From Mourning to Joy
Page 10
Bernie offered a weak smile. “Maybe if you’d lived under the same roof with my father in Texas, you might think differently.”
“You had a rough childhood, Bernie?”
“Not as rough as some. Won’t hear me complaining.” Bernie looked at Davey. “Now this here boy of yours is going to get a better start even if I have to fight his mother tooth-and-nail to give me half a chance.”
“Mr. B is teaching me lots of stuff about animals and building, Ma,” said Davey his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm.
“We both appreciate it, Bernie. A season of growth for all of us.” She stood and went to a side table where she’d gathered her sewing supplies. She hugged the material close to her. “I can’t believe I received yardage for a new dress on my twenty-fifth birthday.”
Bernie pushed away from table. “Reckon that’s our signal to skedaddle out of the lady’s way. She’s on a mission.”
“Charlie and Stan will be at the schoolhouse on Saturday night. They’re bringing allies for us to play.” He looked at Bernie. “Did you play allies when you were a boy, Mr. B?”
“Certainly did. The King of Alley Road was my nickname. Might be persuaded to pass on a few tips, just so you can show them town boys that farmer Davey Rimes is a serious contender to beat them at their own game.”
Davey squealed. “Did you hear that, Ma?” He raced over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t never run Mr. B off with your gun. I like him.” Hurrying into his boots, he yelled over his shoulder before the door slammed, “Beat you to the barn, Mr. B.”
Bernie honed his gaze in on Janelle. “The boy likes me. I’m hoping his mother warms up to the idea of keeping me around.”
“Is that what you want – to work yourself to death on this pint-sized farm with no promise of riches?”
“Don’t recall saying I was searching for riches. A successful life means sharing the good and bad times with people you care about.”
“And you care about us,” Janelle stammered. “I mean, for the long-term?”
“Thought I made that pretty clear. Just waiting for you to cozy up to the idea.” Bernie tipped his hat and opened the door.
At lunch, Bernie broke the silence around the table as the hungry crew slurped down pea soup. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to town and help the fellas build some props to decorate the hotel for Saturday night. Figure if I’m going to stomp around the dance floor, I should offer a hand in setting the scene.”
“That’s very generous of you, Bernie,” said Janelle.
“Or selfish, depending on what side of the coin you’re tossing.” He winked and she turned a pale shade of red.
“Ah, a romantic gent hides under all that manly exterior. Why am I not surprised?” Janelle grinned when he cast an innocent glance her way. “Well, the town of Belle and I both thank you for your contribution. Organizing events in the West that bring folks together is important to keep loneliness at bay. I never appreciated them at home, Far too many. But here I can see where solitude might get the best of a person without an occasional fun time.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Bernie jumping to his feet. “I’ll be heading out. Missing anything for that dress?”
“Nothing. By tonight I will be well underway with the garment. My chores will be slacking but I’ll get Davey to help me.”
“Ah, Ma, I’d rather go to town.”
“No, boy. You stay and help your Ma. Work on all fronts need to be done before Saturday night. He dressed in his winter wear and waved as he closed the door behind him and headed to saddle Blaze for the trip to town.
Chapter 13
When Bernie reached Belle, he stopped to gaze upon the middle green that faced Main Street. The large pine stood unadorned as Christmas celebrations were long over. The full-grown evergreen, Belle Creek, and Wynter’s Mountain overshadowed the scene with frosty-awe. The landscape seemed to enclose Belle within a cocoon protecting it against the world beyond. Peace reached out and wrapped its arms around his heart. As Bernie drew near, he felt more at home here in this strange land than he had his entire life in Chute, Texas.
One evening, while sitting around the fire, Janelle had described to him every wonderful moment of that festive event and how it had served as a brief interruption in her dark winter of mourning. The Stewarts had driven her and Davey both ways in their sleigh and managed to ignite a glimmer of hope in mother and son for the first time since Jacob’s death. Bernie hoped the upcoming February dance would help push her mourning into joy, at least long enough for her to acknowledge the longing of his heart.
Bernie cast aside his musing and focused his attention on the feverish hammering coming from inside the carpenter shop. Dismounting, he tied Blaze to the hitching post and then jumped onto the boarded platform.
Stepping inside the entrance, he spotted Henry down on his knees pounding nails into one side of a lattice. He tapped him on the back. “I’ll take my turn down there, if you like?”
Henry struggled to his feet. “Would I like? That’s like asking a thirsty man if he needs a drink. My legs are getting too old for this nonsense.” He passed Bernie the hammer. “What brings you to town?”
“Itching to come dancing on Saturday and knew folks were still finishing up the last of the decorations.”
“The women gave strict orders for all the pieces to be done today. They have ideas about trimming the hotel with the sweetheart theme and the management has given them the go-ahead. Seems to be a woman thing but if it gets them in the party mood, I’m all for it. Most fellas I know are just happy for an excuse to hold their gals tight while twirling them around the dance floor.” He grinned at Bernie. “You wanting to hold Janelle close, Mr. Drysdale?”
“I am, and not ashamed to admit it. Janelle is busy sewing her dress and I brought my only set of decent clothes to get washed so I don’t embarrass her.” He held up a cloth bag. “Do you know where I might find a woman willing to do wash for pay in town?”
Henry snatched the bag. “Livvy is the answer to your problem and she don’t want no pay. Tomorrow is washday anyway. She’ll have it ready for pickup Saturday morning, bright and early.”
“I have a favor to ask, Henry.” He leaned over and whispered into his friend’s ear. The man roared laughing. “Great idea! It’s yours. Pick it up when you come for your outfit. He was still chuckling as he threw the bag over his shoulder and waved. “Thanks for taking over here, lad. Got work waiting for me at the store.”
Saturday finally arrived. Bernie had gone to town and hid his surprise at the back of the barn. He hadn’t set foot in the cabin since lunch and by five o’clock when Janelle called Davey into the house, Bernie’s nerves had worked into a frenzy. The boy talked of nothing all afternoon except the fun he planned with the children in town. Bernie hoped his evening would be as equally filled with good times and memories as his and Janelle’s.
Now, with chores done, Bernie began to prepare for the dance. He added hot water from the kettle on his pot-belly stove into the cold liquid on the bottom of his wash basin. He took off his shirt and with a cloth, scrubbed his hair, face, skin and chest until it shone and smelled of manly pine – thanks to a bar of fragrant soap he’d purchased last summer.
From the bag Olivia Stewart had given him this morning, he withdrew his perfectly folded clothes and whistled. They hadn’t been this clean in a long time. The slightly faded jeans fit perfectly and he tucked the red checkered shirt inside at the waist and the look resulted in a sleek appearance he knew the ladies liked. He removed the wool suit jacket from the bag and immediately smelled the fresh soap. Not the same fragrance as the bar he’d purchased it on impulse last fall when he’d been invited to a church function by the pastor’s wife in the town of Lorenzo, Wyoming. That event had proven to be a collaboration to marry him off to a spinster whom he was not the least bit attracted to. Truth was, there’d never been anyone cross his path in all these years that had produced thoughts of settling down – until Janelle. He o
ffered a prayer heavenward, hoping the sweetheart’s dance would quiet his drifting heart and lead him home.
With his hair combed, Bernie pulled on his shiny black boots and popped his felt hat on his head. He smiled and withdrew it again, placing it over his heart and bowing ever so slightly, in practice for when she answered the door. He laughed at his attempts at gallantry. Janelle had seen him at his filthiest after a hard day’s work, but tonight he hoped she’d like the cleaner version waiting to escort her to the dance. He donned his heavy coat and headed to prepare Blaze. He was part of the surprise.
When he pulled the borrowed sleigh up to the front door, and Janelle answered his knock on the door, her excitement made all the planning worthwhile. She didn’t seem to know where to put her eyes – on him or the chariot that awaited her. Davey took control over her dilemma by bolting from the house and crawling onto the passenger seat in the back while Janelle and Bernie watched.
Once settled in the back, the boy looked back at them and yelled, “Come on, you two. The party will start without us.”
Bernie relieved Janelle of her cape and his full smile beamed down on her like a ray of sunshine.
“You look beautiful tonight, Janelle. Your bruises have healed nicely and I love the dress.”
“Oh, thank you, Bernie. I was so nervous. Didn’t want it to appear homemade. I’m far from a professional seamstress.”
“I beg to differ.” He backed off and examined her closely. “It is both stylish and modest. Perfect, just like you.”
Janelle felt the blood rushing into her face and turned quickly so he could place the woolen cape over her shoulders. In this position, she voiced her praise of him.
“And you sir, clean up very well.”
She fumbled with the fasteners, and Bernie gripped her shoulders and spun her back around to face him. He clasped her cape closed then squeezed her hand. Bernie’s gaze penetrated her depths and when he saw her lips tremble, he smiled.
“Don’t look so worried, Janelle. Tonight, is about fun, you and me, and whatever the Good Lord has in store for us.”
Janelle glanced down nervously and pushed her hands inside her furry-muff. She walked onto the front porch ahead of him and he closed the door firmly behind them. When Blaze pulled the sleigh down the lane and out onto the roadway, Janelle’s face lit up with the excitement of a child.
“I’ve missed riding in a sleigh. My family has a summer place in Maine, which usually gets opened at Christmas for a family gathering. Every time the sleigh came out, I was on it. Something magical about sliding through the snow, especially at night when the stars are out.”
“You mean like tonight?” Bernie asked, hoping for a little of that childhood magic.
Janelle peered toward the sky and a huge smile transformed her face. “Yes, like tonight, Bernie Drysdale.”
Bernie urged Blaze forward, afraid that if his attention lingered on Janelle’s enthusiasm a moment longer, he’d lose control and take her into his arms. By the time they arrived at the schoolhouse, Davey’s feet danced on the floorboards of the sleigh unable to contain his excitement. Matilda Pettigrew greeted them at the door, a resigned spinster from New York who enjoyed other people’s children but had no intention of burdening herself with any of her own. Davey sped into the room, nearly tripping over his other caregiver, Mavis. She was Matilda’s sister, and just as determined to reach the age of thirty unattached. Davey muttered, “sorry,” in passing and headed straight for the corner where a couple boys beckoned to him.
Bernie grinned. “Appears Davey has settled in. Shall we go dancing, Janelle?”
She took the arm he offered and returned to the sleigh. A few minutes later, they pulled up to the Paradise Hotel and parked with the others. Even Blaze looked around at the four-legged female prospects with interest. Seemed romance was in the air and Bernie couldn’t wait to escort Janelle inside.
Festive music flowed into the street every time the double doors swung open to welcome another guest. Memories of North Carolina, flooded Janelle’s mind. She smiled. Belle was nothing like the home she’d left behind. Except this place – the new hotel was exquisite – every bit ‘The Paradise’ that the name suggested. Lit lanterns hung around the full terrace where comfy chairs and small tables were provided for the star gazers. Black shutters highlighted the windows of the white-washed, two-story hotel, and Bernie felt like a king escorting his queen to a grand event.
As they climbed onto the full-length verandah, she continued to drink the scene into her spirit. Large, colored paper hearts hung from the rafters like waves of love dancing in the evening breeze.
They leaned against the railing. “It’s a beautiful sky, Bernie.” Janelle breathed in the crispness of the frosty air, and Bernie could not take his eyes off her. She became aware of his staring. “You’re not even looking at the full moon.”
“Suppose not. Got sidetracked by another great beauty.”
Janelle blushed and blamed it on the cold air assaulting her face. “We best get inside before we freeze.”
The couple moved toward the doors. “The building looks festive and alive.”
“It’s the community gathered inside that outshine all the splendor a man can build. Belle is a growing town and you should be honored to call it home.”
Janelle caught the proud bounce in his voice. “Sounds like you may enjoy your winter with us after all.”
“I’m hoping for beyond. You know that, right?”
“I had my suspicions.”
Bernie roared laughing. “Janelle Rimes, has anyone ever told you that you’re a tease?”
“Never my intention, sir. Just pining for that dance you promised me.”
They stepped inside the foyer and Janelle gasped. Overhead, a glass chandelier hung, and the glow from its prisms reflected on the walls providing its own light-show. Ahead of them a central stairway wound to the second floor. As they passed the open doors to the drawing room, she saw couples mingling. The room was homey in appearance, the oriental rugs and the rich-costly furniture creating a number of small visiting areas.
Bernie led Janelle to the right and the polished wood floors continued into an oversized dining room. An abundance of crimson hearts, all varying in size and height, hung from the ceiling over the stage where the band played. To the right stood the wide archway that Bernie had helped build, decorated with streams of thin paper and green sprigs taken from evergreen. It had been accurately labelled, The Gateway for Sweethearts, and a young couple passing through stopped for a brief kiss. To the left two lengthy tables stretched out, covered with red tablecloths and filled with finger pastries, meat and heart-shaped sandwiches. Pickles, cheese, fancy breads, and an assortment of drinks sat at the far end. Out on the dance floor, men twirled women in time with an upbeat tune while others munched on a plate of food and talked.
Olivia Stewart came rushing over. “Good evening, Bernie and Janelle.” She stopped for a second as her words registered. “Now don’t those names sound poetic when linked together?” She cleared her throat and grinned. “Don’t mind me. I’m part of the welcoming committee. Follow me.” She led them to a small space under the steps and grinned. “The hotel has a cloak room to hang your winter wear.”
“Thank you, Livvy,” said Bernie as he slid Janelle’s cape from her shoulders. He passed it to the patient woman who appeared to take her job seriously.
“You can put muff, gloves and hat on the shelf, next to your coat hooks for safe keeping.” She grinned. “I am enjoying my job.” Never stopping the flow, Livvy rambled on. “Help yourself to the food – compliments of the hotel - and rest assured, the drinks are not spiked. Need to keep all you cowboys acting like gentlemen tonight.” She noticed newcomers at the door. She wiggled her fingers toward Bernie. “You got some money for me?” He passed her the admission price and she threw the coins into her handbag. “Duty calls. Have fun you two.”
Bernie looked at Janelle. “What will it be first; food or a dance?”
Bernie motioned toward the tables. “A woman after my own heart.”
“My mother always said that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I gather you agree?”
“It helps, but I’d choose you even if you couldn’t boil water without burning it.”
“You’re just a sweet talker, Bernie Drysdale.”
“Not me. Heard it from a good source you didn’t care for those kinds of men. But you do inspire a man to take risks and therefore surrender to the art of groveling.”
After they filled plates with sandwiches, cheese, cakes and tarts, Janelle introduced Bernie to some of the folks gathered close by and the couple spent some time mingling. It felt natural to Bernie to think of he and Janelle as a couple, even though she’d never officially declared it to be true, his heart was smitten.
“The music slowed and Bernie put his plate down. “May I have this dance, Janelle?”
He led her into the center of the floor as the fiddler introduced the tune. The instrument created a dreamy atmosphere and couples crowded the space, each lost in their own aura of love and romance. Bernie pulled Janelle in closer and as their fingers laced, he noticed the absence of the ring on her left hand.
“I see you’ve removed your safety net.” Her brows puckered and he squeezed her left ring finger to emphasize his point. She bit her lip as if torn by loyalties in moving forward.
“It was time.” She nervously changed her focus to the musicians and Bernie twirled her around, forcing her eyes to fix back on him.
“Pleased to hear that. Plenty tired of beating around the bush. I’d like to believe I’m an easy-going fella, but keeping my distance from you is proving rather difficult.”
“Is tonight too soon to confess I’ve fallen in love with you, Bernie Drysdale?” said Janelle.
Bernie swooped her under the decorative foliage of the archway and pulled her to him. “Before I lose my nerve – will you be my sweetheart forever Janelle Rimes?”