by Janette Oke
Belinda managed a smile. “Tell them I’ll be over soon,” she replied. “I’m looking forward to some free time on Saturday. Maybe I can make it then.”
“Fine,” nodded Luke.
“You been busy?” asked Belinda.
But Luke didn’t bother to answer her question. He turned to look at her and said instead, “We just had a visitor.”
“Oh,” responded Belinda, her eyebrows raised. “Who?”
“Drew,” Luke said, watching her face carefully.
She caught her breath in a ragged little gasp and quickly turned away from her brother.
“Is he the reason you came home?” asked Luke.
“Of course not,” denied Belinda. “Why do you ask that? I had planned for months to come home.”
Luke nodded. “He seemed terribly upset,” he continued.
“Why?” asked Belinda.
“Well, for one thing, he had the feeling that you needed an attorney for something . . . but you left his office without getting whatever you needed.”
“I . . . I was just taken completely by surprise,” Belinda confessed. “I’d no idea he was back in town.”
“I didn’t realize that running into old friends was such a—a traumatic experience,” commented Luke.
Belinda flushed. “I guess I did respond . . . rather . . . hastily,” she admitted.
“I thought perhaps there was something more,” Luke prompted.
“Like . . . ?” began Belinda.
“I’ve no idea. Would you like to tell me?”
Belinda lowered her face and shook her head.
“But he isn’t the reason you came home?” Luke asked again.
“No-o,” Belinda replied, then added honestly, “but he . . . he might be the reason I didn’t stay in Boston.”
“I don’t understand,” said her big brother.
Belinda lifted tear-filled eyes. “I didn’t know that . . . that Drew was in Boston until last fall. It was so good to see him. I . . . I thought he felt that way, too. I . . . I even thought that he might care. Well, he maybe did . . . in a way. At least he said he did . . . but he also said that because of . . . the circumstances . . . whatever he saw them to be . . . that we . . . he wouldn’t be seeing me again.”
Luke nodded.
“So I came on home . . . as I had planned. Though I . . . I knew that I’d stay . . . if . . . if he asked me to. But he didn’t, and . . . I didn’t expect to ever see him again . . . and then quite unexpectedly he . . . he . . .”
But Belinda could not go on. She turned her back again as the tears began to flow freely.
“Did you know that Drew thought you intended to stay in Boston to administrate the home you had established?” Luke asked.
Belinda shook her head, her back still to her brother.
“Did you know that it was always his intention to return here to set up practice?”
“No,” she said after a long pause.
“Did you know that he very nearly laid aside his lifelong dream of helping people in his own hometown so he might be free to stay in Boston and marry you?”
Belinda’s shoulders shook. “No.”
“Did you know that he felt that to ask you to marry him would be denying you of all the good things you had learned to appreciate?”
“No,” sobbed Belinda.
Luke moved across the room to place his hands on Belinda’s trembling shoulders. “What in the world did you two talk about all that time, anyway?” he asked in a teasing tone.
“Oh, Luke,” sobbed Belinda, and she turned to Luke’s arms and lowered her head to his shoulder.
He held her, patting her back as she wept.
“You know what I would suggest?” he said softly when the sobs had subsided. Belinda shook her head.
“I would suggest that you start over. And this time really talk.”
“Oh, Luke,” cried Belinda. “I think it’s too late.”
“Then what’s he doing here waiting right outside the door?” Luke asked with a chuckle.
“He . . . he’s here?” Belinda was shocked.
“He’s here. And he’ll be knocking that door down if I don’t soon let him in.”
“Oh my!” cried Belinda, her hand going first to her face and then to her hair. “I must look one awful sight.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to notice,” Luke replied gently, then gave her one more squeeze before he released her and opened the door for Drew.
“Belinda?” Drew entered the room hesitantly. “May I come in?”
Belinda silently nodded.
“I . . . I’ve really messed everything up, haven’t I?” he said with such a tremor in his voice that Belinda wanted to reach out to him, but she stood rooted to the spot.
“I thought you felt your work was in Boston . . . with the elderly. . . .”
Belinda nodded again in understanding.
“I knew . . . I’ve always felt that I was to come back here,” he went on.
Belinda managed a shaky little laugh. “Silly, wasn’t it? We both thought we knew what the other was thinking when . . .”
But Drew had closed the distance between them. He reached his hand to her face and tipped her chin upward. “Is it too late . . . to start again?” he asked softly.
Belinda couldn’t shake her head. He was holding her against him. She knew she’d never squeeze a word past her tight throat. She only looked at him and then she shyly put her hands on his shoulders.
“I love you,” whispered Drew. “I always have. Would . . . will you marry me?”
Belinda looked for a long time at the man she loved. She wanted to answer. She even tried to say the word, but still she was unable to speak. Her arms slipped around his neck and he must have taken that as affirmation, for Belinda found herself being tenderly kissed.
Belinda judged it to be the most glorious spring she had ever experienced, she told Drew as they sat rocking on her parents’ front porch. Each day seemed brighter, cleaner, more perfect than the last. Marty just smiled at both of them. She had watched love bloom before, she told the couple as she refilled their glasses of iced tea.
Drew found a small house on the edge of town and made arrangements to rent it. Belinda spent hours dreaming of how she would fix this and paint that, and Drew proved to be handy with minor repairs.
“It’s going to be just perfect,” Belinda enthused. “I can hardly wait to move in.”
Drew smiled. The place certainly wasn’t perfect, he realized, especially after what Belinda had been used to in Boston. But Drew no longer felt worried about asking her to share his dreams. Love was too evident on her face, and he knew instinctively that they would be happy together.
One day as Belinda was tending her special potted plant, she decided she couldn’t wait until they actually occupied the small cottage. Her rose needed planting. When the sun came up in the springtime sky, spilling its warm promises upon the earth, Belinda carefully lifted her potted rose and headed for the small cottage.
Gently she eased the small bush from its confining container and placed it tenderly, securely into the hole she had dug.
“Grow, little rose,” she whispered as she poured water into the hole and eased the dirt back in place. “I hope you will be happy here. As happy as I intend to be. You are to make our home beautiful on the outside—and I will try to make it beautiful on the inside.”
Belinda rose to her feet, studied her soiled hands, and smiled with inner joy.
“Oh, I hope you bloom,” she told the rose. “I hope you’ll bloom this year.” She was silent for a moment and then continued. “But if you don’t . . . I’ll wait. I feel prepared to wait now. I . . . I finally feel settled . . . ready for life.”
The wedding was set for August at the little church in the country. By then Drew’s law practice was becoming comfortably established. The small cottage was reasonably refurbished and furnished, and Belinda had busied herself with hanging curtains and scattering braided rugs. Though the little house was
simple, Belinda was gloriously happy. It wouldn’t be long before she would be Mrs. Drew Simpson.
Mrs. Simpson and Sid came by train for the wedding. Drew gently chided his mother when he and Belinda met the train.
“When I asked you in Boston concerning Belinda, why didn’t you tell me she had already gone home?” he asked.
“I had me no idea what had happened between you two,” Mrs. Simpson admitted. “I felt that there was something strange going on when two very dear friends suddenly didn’t know each other’s plans.”
“So you told me that Belinda would need to speak for herself?”
Mrs. Simpson shrugged. “What else could I say? I had no intention of intruding on Belinda’s privacy.”
Drew put his arm around Belinda’s waist and pulled her close. “Well, I forgive you, Ma—now that things have worked out,” he laughed.
Belinda just smiled. Tomorrow was to be the happiest day of her life.
“Are you ready?” Clark asked his youngest daughter, and Belinda smiled her answer.
“It’s a shame,” said Clark seriously as he bent to kiss the top of her head.
“What’s a shame?” Belinda asked innocently.
“It’s a shame I have run out of daughters. Each bride jest gets prettier an’ prettier.”
“Oh, Pa,” Belinda laughed, but her cheeks were glowing.
“Happy?”
“I’ve never been happier. I think I’m about to burst,” admitted Belinda.
“Strange,” mused Clark. “After all these years . . . you and Drew.”
“It’s not strange at all,” smiled Belinda dreamily. “I . . . I think that it’s just as God always meant it to be. He . . . He just had to wait for me to grow up.”
Epilogue
Dear Reader,
We are leaving the Davises at this point in their lives for a time. I realize there is much more we could say about their ongoing family—but it has really grown too large and scattered for us to comfortably keep up with all their comings and goings, living and loving.
Many have suggested a reunion to bring all of the western family back to join Marty and Clark at the home farm. It sounds like fun. But it is almost impossible. For one thing, there are now far more characters than a reader—or the writer—can properly keep straight. Secondly, such an event was unlikely in the days that we are reliving in these stories. The distance was too great and the travel too difficult and expensive for all the family to be able to make the trip.
Thank you for traveling with me. I pray as I write each story that something that is told, or even implied, might strike some responsive chord in a heart—somewhere—and that God will speak to you in a special way. He is able to do that, I know—and that is why sharing the stories with you has been so special for me.
God bless!
P.S. It is now some years since I wrote the farewell note above, and I did return to the Davis family for four novels in the PRAIRIE LEGACY series, picking up with Belinda and Drew’s offspring. Look for The Tender Years, A Searching Heart, A Quiet Strength, and Like Gold Refined.
About the Author
Bestselling author Janette Oke is celebrated for her significant contribution to the Christian book industry. Her novels have sold more than thirty million copies, and she is the recipient of the ECPA President’s Award, the CBA Life Impact Award, the Gold Medallion, and the Christy Award. In addition, the Hallmark Channel has made numerous films based on her books. Janette and her husband, Edward, live in Alberta, Canada.
Books by Janette Oke
Return to Harmony • Another Homecoming
Tomorrow’s Dream • Dana’s Valley**
ACTS OF FAITH*
The Centurion’s Wife • The Hidden Flame • The Damascus Way
CANADIAN WEST
When Calls the Heart • When Comes the Spring
When Breaks the Dawn • When Hope Springs New
Beyond the Gathering Storm • When Tomorrow Comes
RETURN TO THE CANADIAN WEST
Where Courage Calls**
Where Trust Lies**
Where Hope Prevails**
LOVE COMES SOFTLY
Love Comes Softly • Love’s Enduring Promise
Love’s Long Journey • Love’s Abiding Joy
Love’s Unending Legacy • Love’s Unfolding Dream
Love Takes Wing • Love Finds a Home
Love Comes Softly 1–4 • Love Comes Softly 5–8
A PRAIRIE LEGACY
The Tender Years • A Searching Heart
A Quiet Strength • Like Gold Refined
SEASONS OF THE HEART
Once Upon a Summer • The Winds of Autumn
Winter Is Not Forever • Spring’s Gentle Promise
SONG OF ACADIA*
The Meeting Place • The Sacred Shore • The Birthright
The Distant Beacon • The Beloved Land
WOMEN OF THE WEST
The Calling of Emily Evans • Julia’s Last Hope
Roses for Mama • A Woman Named Damaris
They Called Her Mrs. Doc • The Measure of a Heart
A Bride for Donnigan • Heart of the Wilderness
Too Long a Stranger • The Bluebird and the Sparrow
A Gown of Spanish Lace • Drums of Change
www.janetteoke.com
*with Davis Bunn
**with Laurel Oke Logan
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook Website: www.bethanyhouse.com
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