The Diary of Mattie Spenser - By Sandra Dallas Page 0,4

form is too thin, my face too square, and my forehead broad. Being somewhat over five feet eight inches in height, I am too tall ever to be considered a looker. Handsome is the best I might be, and then only on special occasions, and in poor light.

My plainness does not bother Luke. He says it is an asset, since we will be living in a Godless land, where men become crazed where women are concerned. I would not want to cause him vexation by attracting admiring glances, so it seems that neither one of us has to worry about me on that score. Well, it’s the first time I ever was glad to be plain.

“You are a suitable cook and well made for work, and you’ll have plenty of that where we’re going. You are a strong-minded woman and not given to foolish ways. I’m glad you’re not the kind to attract men like bees around the honey,” he said when he proposed. “I’m bound for Colorado, and if you’re agreeable, you may come, too. I’m clean in my ways and a Christian, and I promise to be the best husband I know how. So if you’ll agree, Mattie, I’d be proud to take you as my wife. I require a yes or no right away.”

It wasn’t a pretty speech. Surprised and pleased though I was, I wished there had been a little less common sense, and more passion to his proposal. I suppose a prudent man (and Luke is that) should choose a wife with the same expert eye he turns on a cow. Still, I chided him a little before giving my answer. “You didn’t say a word about love, Luke Spenser,” said I.

He rebuked me, and rightly so. “I thought you to be a practical girl. If it’s words you want, you ought to wait for Abner. He’ll be along directly,” replied he. Then he blushed and added, “I’m not much for that kind of talk, but do you think I would be here if I did not have feelings for you?”

Well, having studied mathematics to discipline the mind during the two years I spent at Oberlin College, I think I am a practical girl—practical enough to know Luke might find another if I did not reply at once. And perhaps it was best he spoke his mind in such a direct way, giving me a clear view of our future together instead of sugarcoating it with silly speeches. I believe Carrie is right in saying that strong men are not given to declarations of love, anyway.

So I meditated on it for a few moments. Marriage is life’s most serious step for a woman, and the proposal, catching me unaware as it had, seemed to call for contemplation. Still, at that instant, I knew he had won my heart and should have my hand, as well. I replied promptly, in the manner of his proposal, “You suit me, Luke, and so does your proposal.”

What does not suit me so well is this business of the matrimonial bed. I’ve never seen a man stark before, and it was an odd thing, though not so much of a surprise. (He has six toes on each foot, which I have not mentioned to him, as Luke does not care to be teased. Nor did I laugh at his skinny legs when first I saw them sticking out from under his nightshirt.) But it was the act itself that disappointed. Carrie had told me not to expect too much, but still, I had hoped for more. There must be a reason the cows crowd the bull, and the sows the boar. I wonder what a pig knows that I don’t.

The first night, Luke did not touch me at all, which I blamed on the excitement of the day and his respect for my feelings, since I was not only ignorant of what would happen in bed but also frightened.

The second night, he thrashed about, hurting me a little. Then it was over. I’d judge it took a minute, no more than two, at most. So it is not a serious loss of time. Carrie promised I’d get used to it and even grow to like it, but I doubt that. I shall be happy to dispense with it when we have as many children as we want. I thought there would be kissing and hugging, but except for a peck on the cheek at our wedding, which embarrassed me so