Bill was in a ebullient mood as he maneuvered Bobo’s borrowed truck off the blacktop onto the dusty red dirt road into Cuthand, Texas. His dainty bride squealed irresistibly as he centered a deep pothole, thrilling him to see her little girl reaction.

“Bill, slow down! You’re going to wreck us!” she implored.

“Hang on! I’ve driven in lots worse places than this!” He knew what he was doing.

“Bill! This dust is ruining my new dress!”Dust was fogging in the open truck windows. He looked down to see dust settling on the cuffs of the white shirt he’d just opened from the laundry.

“Oh Lordy! We can’t go to your your folks looking like this.” Enjoying her reaction, he’d not noticed the effect of the dust on their clothes. He pulled over. She took off her headscarf and they dusted each other and the truck seat. Satisfied with their appearance, he took her in his arms to kiss her.

She pushed him away. “Not here, Bill. She turned away as a car passed. “I don’t want people talking about me. I’m not that kind of girl!”

“You’re not any kind of girl,” he laughed. “You’re my wife and I want everybody to know it.”

“You’re so bad.” she giggled as her smacked her bottom, as she climbed in the truck. She felt delightfully wicked.

“You better get used to it.” he assured her.

Kathleen had butterflies in her stomach as they neared her parents home. She and Bill had been so caught up in each other they had barely touched on their families. She only knew Bill’s mother was a widow living in Louisiana with a couple of girl left at home. Her family was poor. She assumed from his looks and demeanor, she was marrying up. His family might look down on her.

Though she’d only been gone a month, she saw her home through Bill’s eyes as they pulled in. It was shabbier than she remembered. Her anxiety rose at surprising them with a husband unannounced. Mama was in the front yard working in her flowers. The hollyhocks towered over the paling fence. Rows of proud zinnias claimed dominance over the front yard. Bees buzzed around the bee balm and the sweet peas climbing the porch rails. The four o’clocks were just starting to open. Tall sunflowers nodded in the backyard. The scent of her childhood was heavenly. Daddy sat in a straight chair on the front porch, smoking and reading his Ranch Romance Magazine, just like he did every Saturday afternoon. Her throat drew tight with emotion.

Bill took her arm as he opened the gate. Mama dropped her shovel as Daddy walked down the steps to greet them. “Mama, Daddy, I want you to meet my husband, Bill Swain.” She flushed with sudden emotion, hoping they wouldn’t think she’d had to get married.