Wendy Klopfenstein
Look for a pink dress. If you find me too plain, disappear and I’ll pretend you didn’t show. It’d be easier that way.
The words from Victoria’s last letter echoed in Leon Griggs’s ears as he stood with the other disembarking passengers. His palms slicked with sweat, gripping the tie of his duffel bag. With everything in him, he resisted the urge to scan the crowd through the windows.
The man who’d sat next to Leon tipped his hat. “Thank you for your service, Sailor.”
Leon nodded and smiled, the awkwardness of appreciation washing over him. He’d signed up to see new places, experience adventure, and most importantly of all, receive regular pay. When the Spanish-American War started his second year in, he’d groaned. He’d not expected a war on his watch. Later, he’d rushed headlong into the fray, winning himself a medal.
But a tinge of guilt still panged, no matter the number of men he’d worked to save.
How many had been lost when that ship went down?
He shook his head to clear the images of men bobbing in the dark waters. A shiver ran down his spine, feeling the exhaustion of fighting the waves. He and Patrick had made it out, along with the men they’d managed to save.
Patrick had told him over and over, “You’ve been given a gift, use it wisely.”
Leon hoped that’s what he’d do today. Use it wisely.
“Welcome to Wyoming.” The conductor greeted each departing passenger.
Leon’s legs wobbled a mite on the stairs as he descended, his sea legs still adjusting to dry land. Or was it nerves? The love of his life waited for him somewhere on that platform. The woman he aimed to propose to.
He’d answered her ad for a husband while stationed in port. It’d been a lark. Too much liquor had passed among the men. Their laughter was raucous as he’d read his letter aloud. Five guys gathered around to fold it, stuff it in an envelope, and mail it. Guilt niggled at him the next morning, along with a headache. But he’d placated himself with the thought she’d never take the letter seriously.
Until he sailed back into port. Not one letter had arrived, but three. All from Victoria. All full of kindness and hopes and dreams. The others thought it a joke. He went along with it, writing her back. Secretly, he treasured every letter. Then, every word.
Sunlight warmed his face, its brightness making it hard to see. The cool of April still nipped at his nose. A faint whiff of cattle manure told him ranchers were loading up cattle. A woman with a crying baby bumped into him.
“Pardon me.” He shielded his eyes with his hand as the woman rushed on. The knot in his stomach grew. Was he wrong to have agreed to this? Released from the Navy, then off to get married. Payback for every prank he’d ever played on another? He’d made peace with the Lord over that. Started reading his Bible after Victoria included her favorite verses in every letter.
Look for a pink dress.
“All aboard.”
The rush of movement at the call forced Leon to push away from the crowd, far from the boarding area. He spied a woman, off to the left of the station.
Blonde tresses pulled into a bun, with curls framing the face of an angel. His eyes locked with hers, drawing him nearer. Eyes of…green. Under a hat trimmed with pink ribbon. He broke the stare and let his gaze wander to her dress, plain and neat.
And pink. Like the blush rising in her cheeks.
“Leon Griggs?” The melodic voice warbled.
“Victoria.” His own voice held an awkward tremor.
She bit her bottom lip, then nodded her head. Her eyes never left him.
He watched her gulp. Such a fine, delicate neck.
“You aren’t disappointed, then?” She’d written to him about her old beau’s betrayal and her sister’s celebrated beauty.
“Disappointed?” He let out a snort. He’d not be the reason Victoria wept into her pillow tonight. “I’ve never seen anyone more lovely in my life.”
A small gasp escaped her. She brought a hand to her mouth then let it drop. A tear escaped. “I was so afraid you’d think me too plain.”
Leon took the duffel bag from his shoulder. He opened it and pulled the bundle of letters from the top. When he rose to face her again, he took a step closer.
“These weren’t written by anyone plain.”
Victoria blinked, a smile forming. “Words are different than looks.”
“I saw more than your words when I read these. There was hope and beauty and light.” He reached out to take one of her hands in his. “Your letters helped lift me from a dark place. They filled me. And I dreamed of the woman behind them.”
“You truly aren’t disappointed?”
He grinned the smile that he’d once used to swoon the ladies. The one he had every intent of saving only for Victoria now. “The real question isn’t whether I’m disappointed, but are you?”
“A thousand times no!” She started forward as if to fling her arms around him, then stepped back again.
Seizing the opportunity, Leon dropped to his knee, pulling the small band he’d bought for her from his pocket.
“Victoria, will you marry me?”
With a tear-streaked face and a smile as big as the Wyoming mountains in the background, Victoria grabbed his hand. She tugged for him to stand.
He leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Yes?”
“Yes, my love.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in closer for a kiss. The salt of her tears melded with the sweetness of her lips. She sighed when he deepened the kiss.
Pulling away, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’d better lead the way to the preacher’s house.”
The biggest smile he’d ever seen filled her face. A face he’d never call plain. “Follow me, Sailor.”
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Spark Flash Fiction 