Chapter 4
It was an impulsive thing to do, but Daisy had to do it. She couldn’t stop herself. Before she left for California, she wrote Rhett a letter. All she wrote was “Sonora, California.” She didn’t sign her name or greet him in any way. Just those two words. She sent the letter away hoping those two words would strike Rhett hard into his chest.
On the train, she thought of that letter wondering if it reached him yet. The letter was ambiguous enough that if Mrs. Calhoun found it, she wouldn’t know who it was from. Mrs. Calhoun found Daisy unfit for her son. She preferred their first born son to marry a girl not of Huguenot heritage believing a Southern Baptist girl would be better suited for their family.
“Laisse tomber, elle ne sait rien faire de ses dix doigts, celui-là,” Daisy thought to herself about Mrs. Calhoun. (Forget her, she is completely useless.) The rumor was the Calhouns were looking for a more profitable marriage to dig themselves out of bad investments. Daisy never asked Rhett about his family’s affairs. They had plans to elope and live out West without either of their families to stop them from being together, but those plans never came true. Daisy knew that another girl, Nelly Hampton, vied for Rhett’s affections and had her family’s wealth to back her.
At Sonora station, Daisy disembarked from the train. Her stomach was in cramped knots as she searched the crowd for Henry. The porter graciously unloaded her things. Daisy’s anxiety quelled into disappointment when the crowd thinned leaving her standing alone with her trunks and bags. Fear of humiliation all the way out here hundreds of miles away from home erupted inside of her. She thought of Rhett, his family, her family, Charleston, and even Ms. Beechtree, who Daisy feared would somehow find her and force her to work in the brothel if Henry never came for her.
Henry gave Silas a little description of Daisy, but he didn’t need it. Silas easily found Daisy standing forlornly on the platform surrounded by a pile of luggage. The woman was dressed strangely in a bright lavender skirt that ballooned out around her. He’d never seen a woman dressed so impractically. He approached her and said, “I'm here to take you to the ranch."
Daisy’s face washed over in relief, but asked “Where is Henry?”
“At the ranch.” Silas answered her as he struggled with her trunks.
On the bumpy wagon ride over, Silas was silent. Unsure of who this man was, Daisy also kept to herself. Silas, from Mexico, was equally confused to how Henry ordered himself a wife through the mail. He decided to keep these thoughts to himself until he further understood this strange custom.
Henry’s stream of young women amazed Silas. One after the other, but none of them stayed. Henry’s little girls were like their mother, sharp like a quill and sweet like nectar. Their mother was always one or the other. The girls took after her, poking and prodding each young woman until they left. Lilah, especially, was relentless and cold. Her will could not be broken. Silas couldn’t speak French, but he could tell when Lilah was out for blood.
When Silas and Daisy arrived, the fence was adorned with white ribbons and bows fluttering in the breeze. Daisy felt flush with delightful surprise at the small embellishment for her arrival. She patted her hair as best she could without a mirror present, suddenly conscious that in moments she would meet Henry. Silas helped Daisy down from the wagon remaining silent and in his wandering thoughts.
Daisy’s eyes were as big as tea saucers taking in the grand house. It looked just like it did in the photograph with the majestic mountains off in the distance. The horses purred welcoming her. Daisy dawdled taking it all in, stopping to touch the ribbons on the fence with her fingertips.
“Follow me, ma’am.” Silas broke his silence and said to Daisy.
They walked around to the other side of the house where she saw Henry standing before a beautiful wooden trellis. An older man with white beard and cowboy hat nodded at her. Henry beckoned Daisy to him. Daisy slowly walked to Henry in a daze. The mountains framed behind the trellis was a sight to see. When she got to Henry, he took her hands into his.
Daisy never imagined her wedding day would be like this, but it was romantic in a strange way. The abrupt swiftness of it all exhilarated Daisy. It felt like she was stepping off a plank and plunging into the unknown. Most of her life had been structured for her, and if she stayed in Charleston the predictableness of it all would persist.
Judge Conner, also an owner of busy saloon, needed to get back to tending bar before the evening rush. He kept the ceremony short and succinct.
“Do you Henry Baker take…” he paused, and then asked, “What is your name, darlin’?”
“Daisy Manigault,” Daisy responded.
“Right,” Judge Conner nodded. “Do you Henry Baker take Daisy Manigault to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Henry looked into Daisy’s eyes and smiled. “Yes. I do.”
Judge Conner turned to Daisy. “Do you Daisy Manigault take Henry Baker to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Daisy felt that sensation of looking down from the top of a building and said, “Yes. I do.” She felt the rush of the plunge as Henry kissed her on the lips. The mustache she feared would feel strange on her face gently brushed against her lips.
Judge Conner shook Henry’s hand in congratulations. Suddenly, two little girls ran up to Henry. Judge Conner’s wife, Betsy, trailed behind them out of breath, “Henry, I tried to keep them away,” she said. “But, they just got away from me.”
The girls wrapped their arms around Henry’s legs. “Qui est-ce?” the older girl said staring menacingly at Daisy.
The little one waved at Daisy with her face half buried in Henry’s pant leg. “Bonjour,” she whispered softly. The older girl shot an irritated look. The little one covered her mouth with both hands instantly remorseful for her slipup.
Daisy answered, “Je suis Daisy. Et vous?”
The little one quickly chirped, “Je suis Tallulah. Elle est Lilah.”
Lilah was unimpressed with Daisy’s French. She warily asked her father in English, “Is this our new teacher?”
Henry crouched down to the girls and said, “No. This is my new wife.” He gathered the girls into a hug and said, “She is your stepmother.”
Lilah darted off into a run. Tallulah stared at Daisy a bit more before she caught up with her big sister. Henry ran after his daughters to comfort them and explain. Daisy yelled after him, “You never said anything about having children!” Daisy was left under the trellis with Judge Conner and his wife who smiled at her gingerly.
Betsy placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Come inside. I’ll put on some tea.”
Daisy composed herself and said, “Thank you,” Walking to the house, Daisy marveled at the expanse of her new home. “How long has Henry lived here?” she inquired.
Betsy turned to her stunned. “No, dear. Henry doesn’t live here. He’s a few miles down. The Judge and I have lived here for six years.”
Daisy felt the plunge again she felt a few moments before only now she was drowning. Who is Henry Baker? What have I done?
Qui vivra verra. (She who lives shall see.)