by Renee Ryan
“Now, shift a little more to your right,” he said.
“Can I open my eyes yet?”
“No.”
She waited a heartbeat. “Now?”
“No. I’m going to let go of you. But whatever you do, don’t move until I tell you. And don’t open your eyes.”
She nodded.
He released her. Without his support, she swayed a little, but caught herself with a jerk. Now that her eyes were shut, her other senses took over. She could hear Pete shuffling around the room. The sound of a match striking was followed by the unmistakable odor of candle wax. He was lighting candles? How…sweet.
There was another scent in the room, not unpleasant but strong. She wrinkled her nose. Glue, perhaps?
Hmm.
Fighting back her impatience, she drew in a breath. “Can I open my eyes yet?”
He chuckled low in his throat. “Have a little patience, my love.”
His love? Did he just call her his love? Surely, she’d heard him wrong.
Disoriented, she flayed her arms out, trying to grasp for a piece of furniture or some other solid object. “What room are we in?”
“The one with the fireplace.”
What could he possibly have for her here?
“All right.” He moved behind her and whispered in her ear. “Open your eyes.”
Feeling suddenly anxious, she blinked, gradually focusing on her surroundings. For a moment, nothing looked out of the ordinary. Same fireplace, same mantel. And then she looked at one of the windows and gasped.
Curtains. Pete had put curtains over all the windows in the room. Not blankets nailed over the casings, but real curtains. And they were made out of the same material she’d ordered from Mr. Johnson.
Pete had done this for her?
Her eyes stung with an onslaught of grateful tears.
Blinking furiously, she held on to her emotions, barely, and turned in a full circle.
Not only had Pete mounted curtains, he’d hung wallpaper on all four walls. The wallpaper she’d ordered last week.
Glory.
“How did you know?” she whispered.
Without waiting for his answer, she rushed to the closest wall and traced the familiar flowered pattern with a shaking fingertip.
“Do you like the changes?”
“They’re…Oh, Pete, they’re wonderful.”
She heard him blow out a relieved breath. “The same day as your picnic, Mr. Johnson delivered the items you’d ordered. I hired Mrs. Morrow and her daughter to make the curtains. After a little convincing, they graciously agreed to make the project their first priority.”
Oh, Pete, you marvelous, glorious man.
“And the wallpaper?”
“Zeb helped me hang it last night. We finished right before sunup this morning.”
He’d worked all night hanging wallpaper? Her head swam with the realization that he’d done this for her. For her!
She pressed her palm against the wall to steady herself. A tear slid down her cheek, followed by another. And another. “I…I don’t know what to say. I—” She swallowed, her hand still flat against the wall. “Thank you so much.”
He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, then pulled her back against his solid chest.
I’m home, she thought, not just in this house, but with this man.
As though sensing the direction of her thoughts, Pete said, “You deserve to live in a home, Rebecca. A real one.” His voice was whisper soft against her ear. “I’m honored to be the one to give it to you.”
Placing her hands over his, she continued staring at the wall, suddenly afraid to turn around and see what was in his eyes. “I was thinking the same of you.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I’ve been making plans, you know.”
“I suspected as much when Mr. Johnson delivered your items. I took it upon myself to order several pieces of furniture, and a new set of bed linens. They’ll arrive in a few weeks.”
She relaxed her head against his shoulder, but then her mind latched onto something he’d said and she straightened. “You only ordered one set of bed linens?”
Sucking in a deep pull of air, he turned her slowly around to face him. “I was hoping we’ll only need one.”
She saw the love in his eyes. The hope. The promise.
Pete was finally asking her to be his wife, in the only way he knew how. Not in words, but in a bold gesture.
It was no wonder she loved the man. He was trying so hard.
But, in this, they had to speak plainly. “Are you asking me to share your bed?”
“Yes.” The intensity in his gaze took her breath away. “But I want to share more than just a bed with you. I want to share your life. I want a real marriage with you, and all that that implies. I should have told you this before now. I’m sorry.”
She’d never heard that many words from him. It must have cost him a great deal to speak his feelings that plainly. She owed him equal candor. “You don’t have to be sorry, Pete. I’m the one who should apologize. I never let you tell me how you felt, not that morning at breakfast or out in the grove after the picnic.”
“Sounds like we’ve both made our share of mistakes.”
She nodded. “I suppose we have. It’s all behind us now.”
“It is. But, Rebecca, I have to warn you.” His lips pressed into a sorrowful line. “I’m not good at making women happy. You’ll have to guide me. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.”
The pain and vulnerability in his gaze was real. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek. “It goes both ways. I don’t want to hurt you, either. So we’ll just have to figure out life and marriage together, with the Lord’s help every step of the way.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she stopped his words with a finger to his lips. He’d taken almost all of the steps so far.
This one was hers.
She lifted on his toes and pressed her lips to his. He stood rigid, his mouth hard and unmoving.
And then, his arms were around her and he was kissing her back. With enthusiasm.
She relaxed into him, sighing contentedly. They had finally destroyed that invisible line standing between them.
Only…
Pete pulled away from her again. His eyes weren’t regretful like the last time they’d kissed. But they were haunted. And filled with unspeakable pain.
“Pete?”
“We can’t go forward until we talk about the past.” He stepped back and raked his fingers through his hair. “I have to tell you about Sarah.”
Dread filled her. “Do you still love her? Is that what you have to tell me?”
“Sarah was my first love. There will always be a special place in my heart for her.”
Rebecca fought back a sick feeling at his words. Of course he would hold Sarah in his heart. It was the kind of man he was, and one of the reasons why she loved him so much. “I think I understand.”
“I’m glad. But, Rebecca, I’m afraid it’s more complicated than whether or not I loved Sarah, or even if I still love her. There’s room in my heart for you both. I know you know that. However…” He turned away, but not before she saw his grief.
She held her breath for the rest.
“There are things about Sarah and our marriage that I never wanted to tell you. But if we’re going to be happy I have to share the whole story, for your sake. And maybe even for my own.”
“Oh, Pete, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”
“I know. I’m not making myself clear.”
She saw the aloofness in him. There, in the way he held his body away from her. He was halfway out the door without moving a muscle.
Refusing to give up on him again, she reached out.
After a slight hesitation, he took her hand.
With her fingers wrapped in his solid grip, she knew whatever he had to say, no matter how horrible his story turned out to be, she wouldn’t stop loving him.
&
nbsp; Perfect love casteth out fear.
Tugging on her hand, he directed her to the lone chair in the room.
Eyes focused on his, she sat, folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to begin.
He knelt in front of her. “I’ll start by telling you what most everyone in town already knows. Sarah was not a healthy woman. She was small and frail. This rough land was hard on her, perhaps too hard.”
Rebecca took his hand and squeezed.
“With Sarah’s physical limitations, she wasn’t strong enough to carry my child.”
She heard the defeat in his voice and her heart bled for him. “Oh, Pete.”
He drew in a ragged breath. “There’s more.”
Rebecca nodded, wishing he didn’t have to suffer through the pain of telling her this story.
“Sarah hated High Plains. She was miserable almost from the start. She begged me to take her back East, back to Belville, but I’d made a promise to this town. I couldn’t return home simply because she wanted to leave. I asked her to give our move a year, hoping she’d grow to love this land as much as I did. But if she didn’t come around, I was willing to leave. I waited too long. I realize that now. I—”
He cut himself off and swallowed, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but here, in this room, telling this painful story. But he was telling the story. Rebecca had never witnessed such inner courage.
“Go on,” she urged.
“I think her unhappiness played a role in her death.” He swallowed. “Maybe that’s why the baby came a full month early. Maybe that’s what killed her.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” she said, desperate to wipe that terrible look of guilt from his eyes.
“That’s what Doc said. But Sarah was in such pain. All I could do was watch her agony. God forgive me, I couldn’t help her. Everything I did made matters worse. Doc couldn’t help her, either. We were both rendered helpless.”
“That must have been terribly frightening,” she said.
He shut his eyes. “You have no idea.”
But Rebecca did have an idea. She knew exactly what he’d witnessed. In that moment, she realized that what had seemed to be nothing more than following her favorite grandmother around as a child, had prepared her for this very moment in time.
God’s providence, along with Rebecca’s personal experiences, had brought her to this opportunity to offer her husband genuine comfort in his time of need. “Pete, listen to me, there was nothing you could have done to help her.”
“I made her miserable. That’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.” He glanced at her sadly. “Maybe if I’d taken her back to Belville she might have survived childbirth. Maybe if I had tried harder with her, talked more.”
“No, Pete.” Urgency made her words come out too fast. She forced herself to slow down. “Your guilt is misplaced. My grandmother was a…a…” What was the English word for jordmor? “She helped women birth their babies. As a young girl, I accompanied her on many of her calls.”
He cocked his head in confusion. “What does that have to do with Sarah?”
“Everything. I saw women die in childbirth, not often, only twice. But both times I was terrified. My grandmother explained that sometimes a mother isn’t strong enough to endure the birth of her child. It’s not something easy to predict.”
“Doc Dempsey said almost the same thing.” He turned his back to her. “But I can’t stop thinking I could have saved her.”
“Oh, Pete, only God has the power of life and death.”
“I can’t accept that.” He swung to face her. Raw panic filled his eyes. “Rebecca, sweet Rebecca, I couldn’t bear to watch you go through what Sarah did.”
She jumped to her feet. “I can’t guarantee I won’t, but I promise you, I’m very strong.”
The panic continued shimmering in his eyes. “I love you too much to lose you.”
“You…you love me?”
“With all my heart.” His words came out strong. Yet, still, the panic remained in his eyes.
“Oh, Pete, I love you, too.” Rebecca walked to him, placed her palms on his chest. “But there are no guarantees in life. We have to trust God. His grace is sufficient. That’s the promise we have as His children.”
Pete stared at her for a long, tense moment, the panic slowly dissipating with each silent breath he took. “Are you saying we have to take each day as it comes and praise the Lord for every blessed moment we have together?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Hope slid into his gaze, closing around the remaining shreds of his despair. “You’re willing to take that chance with me?”
She flexed her fingers into his shirt. “It’s why I came home.”
Smiling at last, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m humbled by your strength.” His smile widened. “I love you, Rebecca.”
Glory. “I love you, too. Very much.”
His lips descended toward hers, but he stopped a whisper short and pulled back once more. “Should we get married again? As an outward sign of our new beginning?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She reached up and fiddled with the wedding ring tied on the leather string around his neck. “I kind of think our first wedding was rather perfect. The hand-picked flowers, you in a suit, Mrs. Jennings’s wedding rings. All of it.” She smiled. “Even the awful organ music.”
“You don’t mind that you were forced to marry me?”
She continued running her fingertip along the gold band. “I have only one thing to say to that.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“God bless Matilda Johnson and her ornery, gossiping soul.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” His head descended again. This time, when his lips were a whisper away, he said, “I love you, Rebecca, I pledge my life to you, always.”
Sliding her hands behind his head, she twined her fingers into the hair just above his collar. “I pledge my life to you, as well. For as long as I live, I’m yours.”
At last, he pressed his lips to hers, giving her the first in a lifetime of happily-married kisses.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing Heartland Wedding. I hope you enjoyed reading Pete and Rebecca’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. One of my biggest pleasures throughout the research phase of this book was learning how to cook some of my favorite Norwegian dishes.
No, I’m not Norwegian. But my darling husband is, all the way down to his blond hair, blue eyes and Nordic good looks. Every time he mentions a new adventure that involves a cross-country trek, I find myself thinking about his Viking ancestors. I must point out, however, that my husband grew up in a fine Christian home under the guidance of loving, godly parents who taught him good values and a strong work ethic.
Since I knew how much my husband enjoyed hearty dishes from the old country, I took it upon myself to make a few of the easier recipes in my own kitchen. An added benefit to this culinary undertaking was a newfound appreciation for my mother-in-law, Dee.
Because of distance, Dee was unable to guide me personally through the cooking process. However, she was gracious enough to send her most treasured recipes to me. I was determined to do each and every one of them justice. Unfortunately, I managed to fail more often than not. I will never master kumla, one of my husband’s favorites, and a very difficult dish to make. I bow to Dee’s expertise on that one.
I continue to attempt some of the easier recipes, with questionable success. For more information about my upcoming releases, or for a Norwegian recipe or two, please contact me at www.reneeryan.com.
Blessings,
Renee Ryan
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Why is Rebecca concerned about her brother prior to the tornado hitting town? Do you think she’s overreacting? Why or why not? Would you put yourself in danger for someone you love? What would the circumstances have to be to do so?
Why do you think Matilda Johnson assumes the w
orst about Rebecca’s time alone with Pete in his storm cellar? Are her assumptions valid? Have you ever been on the receiving end of unfair judgment? How did that make you feel?
Pete’s first proposal manages to fall short. What did he do wrong? What could he have done differently? Do you think Rebecca was right to refuse him?
Do you think Edward was right to fight with the Tully brothers? Do you think Pete should have gone after the brothers once he knew the cause of the fight? Why or why not?
What did Pete do differently during his second proposal? Why do you think Rebecca agreed to marry him this time? What changed for her?
Why do you think Pete sends Rebecca back to the boardinghouse on their wedding night? If you were in Rebecca’s shoes, would you have been relieved or disappointed?
What do you think was in Pete’s mind when he decided to carry the kittens on his shoulders as he closed up the livery for the night? What do you think the kittens represented to him, especially after Clint gave him the locket?
Were you expecting the condition of Pete’s house to be quite that bad? Could you sympathize with Rebecca’s shocked horror? Why do you think Pete lived like that?
Abigail Johnson clearly learned her manners from her mother. How strong do you think we influence our children and others around us with our behavior? What sort of legacy do you want to pass on to future generations?
Why do you think Pete was reluctant to commit to Rebecca throughout most of the book? Have you ever held on to something from the past that hard? Why? What helped you let go? What advice would you give someone experiencing a loss like Pete’s?
Why does Rebecca give up on Pete after the incident with the Kansa Indians? What changes her mind three days later? In this time of disposable marriages, does Rebecca’s decision to stand by Pete seem old-fashioned or courageous?
What did you think of Pete’s grand gesture to win Rebecca back? Did you expect it, especially after he’d been so willing to live in squalor prior to that time? Was it enough to prove his love? Why or why not?
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4868-1
HEARTLAND WEDDING
