The Preacher's Lady

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The Preacher's Lady Page 13

by Lori Copeland


  “Just passing by. Mrs. Pettit thought her time to pass had come. She sent Doc to get me.”

  Elly sat up straighter. “Mrs. Pettit passed?” Why, they’d worked on a quilt together earlier in the week. No one could beat Imogene’s stitching.

  “No, she’s fine. By the time I got there she was playing checkers with the doc. Turned out she ate too much cabbage at supper.” He brushed a patch of dead needles aside and sat down on the ground.

  “Please, make yourself comfortable,” she said, hoping he noticed the sarcasm in her voice. When he didn’t move, she left the window to wrap a quilt around her. When she returned, she was hit in the face with a cranberry.

  “Bo!”

  “Shush. You’ll wake up your pa.” Bo flashed a grin.

  She rolled her eyes. What happened to the men in her life? They were acting like schoolboys. First Gideon’s silliness with the Canada geese and now Bo with cranberries. She’d long left behind any enchantment caused by such pranks. If Bo had stayed around, he would have known that.

  “I’m not keeping you up, am I?”

  She shook the berry from her hair and chose an adult topic. “I want your father to oversee the vows.” She’d been worrying about how to tell him, and a straightforward declaration seemed easiest.

  Bo sat up straighter. “Pa? He’s not a minister.”

  “No, but he’s one of the finest men I’ve met. He’s been like a second father to me, and I sincerely hope he will agree to marry me to Gideon.”

  Light from the lantern revealed something akin to pain in Bo’s face. The teasing was gone. “He will be honored, Elly. He’s always loved you.” He cleared his throat. “What does Holt think about your choice?”

  “I haven’t told Pa yet, but he’ll be fine with the choice—once he cools down from the election.” Elly hoped that would happen sooner rather than later. “Pa will be happy to walk me down the aisle. I’m going to be married here at the house.”

  He frowned. “Not the church?”

  “In this house. That’s my plan. Adele isn’t happy about the choice. She believes the church is best, but I can’t think of a better place than where I grew up. I wrote Ma about my plans. I know she’ll agree. The vows will still be taken before God.”

  “This is yours and Gideon’s choice to make.” Finally, he said, “I like the intimacy of a home wedding.”

  A long quiet stretched between them.

  It was Bo’s turn to redirect the conversation. His words made cloudy puffs in the air. Elly tugged the quilt tighter. “I take it your pa is still worked up about Grover Cleveland.”

  “He’s been on a steady dose of bicarbonate since the election. I’ve seen him like this before, almost every election cycle. He’ll come around, eventually.” She laughed. “Can you imagine if we’d married?” She couldn’t believe she’d spoken the thought aloud. She quickly clarified the observation. “Every family supper, every social, and every chance encounter between Pa and Milt would mean hysterics. That kind of drama would get very tiresome.”

  He offered a knowing smile. “Their political disagreements never bothered me when I was young. Both are stubborn know-it-alls.” He added softly, “I’m going to miss that ornery old cuss.”

  Bo must have been uncomfortable showing his emotion over his pa’s health, so he changed the subject yet again.

  “Do you remember the time we got in Pa’s cabbage patch and painted faces on six or seven heads? We left the things on Richardson’s front porch.”

  Snickering, she nodded. “Adeline Richardson stormed out of the house in her robe intent on finding the culprits.”

  “She came to our house first,” he noted. “Madder than a wet hen.”

  “Ours second.”

  “Did you fess up?”

  “Me? I faked temporary amnesia,” she said. “And you know, that could have been real when you shoved me out of that cherry tree.”

  “I didn’t shove you out of anything. You lost your grip trying to kick me out of that branch. You couldn’t stand it that I made it to the top first.”

  She lifted her right arm and pulled up the sleeve of her gown. “See this scar?”

  Bo lifted the lantern. “No, I don’t see anything.”

  Of course he couldn’t see from such a distance, but she had a five-inch scar to prove her words. She tucked her arm back into the quilt. “That scar is as good as a signed note from you and that cherry branch.”

  “Speaking of signed notes, Miss Sullivan, you seem to overlook the times I took a switching for your pranks. I, however, have a perfect memory of being dragged into your root cellar to destroy jars and jars of beets, all because you didn’t like their taste. When your ma came to investigate the noise, you hid in an empty crate, leaving me to take the blame. I didn’t sit for a week.”

  Elly remembered the incident well. Gratitude still lingered in her heart toward Bo for all the times he’d taken the blame for her silliness. She knew she could always trust him to look after her. “But you didn’t tell on me.”

  “I didn’t. I wanted to, but I didn’t.” He met her eyes as he stood up to brush snow and dirt off his pants. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t have performed the ceremony unless the Almighty came down and ordered me to.”

  Cold bit her cheeks. She was determined, this once, to speak her heart. “Just so you know, if you had agreed you would have broken my heart.”

  “I’ve already broken your heart… and mine. I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.”

  Lying in bed later, Elly wondered why Bo really stopped by. So far he’d kept a reasonable distance. They’d been able to talk like old friends.

  Comfortable old friends.

  Chapter 14

  You have to choose red, Elly. New Year’s Eve is still officially the Christmas season and having a wedding at that time of year means you use red and green.”

  “I like blue. What’s wrong with blue? You look lovely in blue and I know Gideon likes blue.”

  “Red, Elly.” Adele jumped back when Rosie and Quint darted around the two young women who stood chatting in front of the mercantile.

  Elly bit her lower lip at the couple’s exuberance. Once she and Bo had performed the same crazy antics.

  “Have you ever heard of blue flowers this time of year?”

  “We’ll use greenery. I much prefer greenery.”

  Dodging Rosie, Elly restrained her tongue. The two were acting like children. Thinking childhood crushes would blossom into soulmates.

  “Got ya!” Bo yelled.

  “Did not!”

  Quint made a beeline between Adele and Elly and latched onto the hem of Rosie’s skirt. The young woman squealed, her cheeks flushing a rosy red.

  Her head filled with utter nonsense.

  “There’s still time to consider red.” Adele shifted packages. “I’m thinking red with white trim?”

  “What about baby blue—with white trim?”

  “No, red is perfect. You’ll see.”

  Whirling, Elly shouted at the couple playing tag. “Stop this instantly!”

  Feet skidded to a halt. Rosie’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  “Quint, go home,” Elly snapped. “Adele, we’ll talk colors later.” Taking Rosie by the hand, she led the bewildered girl toward her house.

  “But… but… ” Rosie sputtered. “What’s wrong, Miss Elly? We were only playing tag.”

  “You’re far too old to be acting like a child.” Elly marched the girl off the planked sidewalk and across the street. By then her temper had subdued. She had no call to be so curt with the young couple, but the two chasing each other, their laughter… The sight brought back too many uninvited memories. Still, she should be more in control of her emotions. Her footsteps slowed. “I’m sorry, Rosie. I’m afraid I’ve taken my bad mood out on you.”

  “Oh that’s all right, Miss Elly. I don’t blame you. If Quint ever does to me what Bo did to you—well, I’ll die. I’ll simply curl up in a little ball and die.”


  Was her and Bo’s separation the only news in Berrytop?

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  Rosie glanced up. “How can you say that? I would die if Quint grew up and rode away. Nobody wants to be a spinster.”

  Spinster! Elly held back a gasp. That’s what the community thought, that she was doomed to be a spinster?

  “That’s ridiculous. I don’t intend to be a spinster because I didn’t marry Bo.”

  “But you don’t want to marry anyone else—and I understand. I would never marry anyone but Quint.”

  “Life gets complicated, Rosie. Just don’t pin all your hopes and dreams on one man.”

  “You did.”

  “And you see how that’s worked out?” She hadn’t meant to be that blunt, but Rosie should know that hopes didn’t always come true.

  “Is it because he’s a pastor now? I heard you’d made him promise he would never be one, and now he is.”

  Was nothing sacred? “He made me a childish promise. It isn’t his occupation that concerns me.”

  “You could be a pastor’s wife?”

  She could be a groundhog if it meant she’d have Bo back.

  “You ask too many questions, young lady.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “You may.”

  “If you ask me, I think he’s still in love with you. Quint mentioned the fact the other day. You should see the way the pastor looks at you when you’re not looking.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “It’s true. He doesn’t look at other women like he looks at you.”

  “He’s a pastor. He can’t look at other women disrespectfully.”

  “He’s still a man, and he doesn’t look at you disrespectfully. Just kind of sad like.”

  “You’re mistaking friendship for love. Bo and I are still good friends.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, I happened to know so. Now run along and tell your mother I said hello. I hope to see her at sewing circle next week.”

  Rosie walked off and Elly studied the child—flying hair, rumpled dress, soon to be a woman. God, I pray that what she and Quint share lasts a lifetime.

  Spinster. The very nerve…

  Shaking her head, she walked on.

  Elly cringed when her bare toes touched the icy wood floor the next morning. Her breath made white puffs in the bedroom air. She knew without looking outside the first measureable snow had fallen. The house was bright with the light reflected by the sky’s deposit. A quick look out the window revealed only a few inches on the ground, enough to outline the branches and fence tops in white.

  So involved was she with the play of light in her room that she nearly missed the scent of cinnamon and yeast wafting up from the kitchen. She hurriedly pulled on warm britches and a wool shirt. If Pa awakened early and was putting his hand to cooking, she needed to step in before he burned the house down.

  She breezed into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks. Her ma sat at the kitchen table. “Ma!” Flying into Irene’s arms, she hugged her fiercely. “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”

  “I couldn’t stay away another minute.” Her hand cupped Elly’s cheek. “I figured I’d beat any letter. When your aunt saw how anxious I was to get home, Milly insisted on sending me home on the train. Mercy, I thought the trip would never end. I arrived very late last night and didn’t see the need to disturb you.”

  Elly renewed her embrace. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Coming home is the sweetest kind of goodness.” She motioned to the opposite chair. “Sit. Tell me everything that’s happened while I’ve been gone.”

  Holt wandered in with the scent of shaving cream in the air. When he bent to give Irene a kiss, Elly spotted a couple of remaining white spots behind his ears. “How’re my two favorite ladies?”

  Irene gave him a smile that warmed Elly’s heart. Pa put on a gruff exterior for the outside world, but he loved her mother. Theirs was the kind of love she wanted, warm and enduring. They weathered bad harvests—sometimes two in a row—but never took their misfortune out on the other. Holt would spend the winter studying catalogues. By early March, his resilient spirit and unshakable faith sent him back into the bogs, eager for a new season, and Ma would be right beside him.

  He looked to Elly. “I’m leaving it up to you to tell your ma about the wedding date.”

  “A wedding date?” Irene’s eyes lit. “You didn’t say a thing in your letters, but I should have guessed when you said Bo was back.”

  Elly fingered the lace tablecloth. “Not Bo, Ma. I’m marrying Gideon.”

  “Gideon?” Irene turned to look at Holt. “I’m a little confused.”

  “Bo is back, Irene, but Elly… I’ll let your daughter tell you the details. Besides, this weather could take a turn for the worse, and I don’t want to be caught empty-handed. I’m hitching up the wagon and heading to the feed store.”

  “Bundle up tightly,” Irene called as he left the room. His voice echoed from the front closet. “Good heavens, woman, do you think I’ve gone daft in your absence? You think I’m going outside bare chested?”

  After the door clicked shut, Elly filled her ma in on the particulars of the wedding. Ma took it all in, nodding her ascent to Milt’s officiating. “And when is the date?”

  “Maybe New Year’s Eve. I want to marry in the parlor, wearing your dress. Gideon’s an upright gentleman, Ma. I’m incredibly fortunate to have attracted his attention.”

  “Absolutely! He’s a fine, fine man.” Ma smiled, but a question in her eyes begged to be answered.

  Elly knew exactly what she wanted to hear. She listed off all the reasons she wasn’t marrying Bo, the ones she recited to herself daily. “He wants to be friends. He’s a pastor, for heaven’s sake. Too many years have passed. We’ve simply become different people with diverse hopes for the future.”

  Nodding, Irene’s smile remained in place. “And you no longer are in love with him?”

  Elly sighed. She couldn’t hide the truth from Ma’s searching eyes. “I’ll always love him, Ma.” Saying the words brought a deep ache to her chest. “But marrying Gideon is the right choice.”

  “Your pa seems quite impressed with Bo’s new life, so not all the changes are bad, I suppose. For all of her waiting, I’m sure Faye must be very proud.”

  Elly rose to help herself to one of Ma’s spiced cranberry muffins and a cup of coffee, all the breakfast she wanted.

  “Adele’s baby must be getting very near,” Ma noted.

  “After Christmas, about the same time as Anne’s baby.”

  Ma shook her head in amazement. “Isn’t that something? Milt and Faye will have more grandbabies than they know what to do with.”

  “They won’t see much of Anne’s baby. Her husband is moving the family to Oregon, where he’s taken a new position with the railroad. They plan to put down permanent roots there.”

  “That’s too far from family. Knowing Faye, she’s already crying a river of tears over losing her daughter and grandbabies to the West.” Ma seemed lost in thought. Elly prepared herself. Any pause in Ma’s talking meant a difficult topic was about to come up.

  “Let’s go back to the wedding, shall we? There’s always more to a girl’s wedding than what little you’ve told me. I’m so glad I’m back to help. You’ve done a fine job with the house, and Pa says the harvest replenished our bank account. Let’s make your wedding very special. What’s left to be done?”

  “Very little.”

  “That’s interesting.” She lingered over her coffee. Elly fidgeted in her seat. “Now, darling, I am touched that you want to wear my dress, but it’s yellowed something awful. We have time to make a new one, just for you. The girls from the sewing circle have deft hands. I’m sure they would love to be a part of your nuptials.”

  Elly would never turn down a new dress, but all the fuss about a gown to wear one day of her life seemed silly and wasteful.

  �
��I’ve looked at lots of patterns, Ma. They don’t have any significance behind them. I hope Gideon and I can have half the marriage you and Pa have managed. Starting out in your dress will be most meaningful to me.”

  Ma’s eyes welled with tears. “Oh, my. I’m very touched. Your pa will be honored too. Thank you, Elly. Your tribute is most welcome.”

  To lighten the moment, Elly returned to the former subject. “Sally Hawkins has agreed to make the cake. She’ll frost it white and line the edges with pink rosebuds. I’m sure it will be lovely.”

  “Naturally, and Adele will be your matron of honor.”

  “Of course. Adele has been doing most of the planning for me. The harvest has kept me very busy.”

  Ma looked around the kitchen. Her smile faded. “We do have a good amount of cleaning to do before New Year’s.”

  “Yes, the holidays always create extra clutter.”

  “I was referring to your wedding, dear.”

  “Oh. That too—if we decide on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Dear… don’t you think you should be choosing a date soon? The holidays are mere weeks away.”

  “Mmm.”

  The clock struck nine. They’d spent two hours catching up. Elly washed the breakfast dishes; Irene dried. Her ma had grown quiet again. In the weeks of her absence, Elly had forgotten Ma’s ability to disarm her with a question. She scrubbed hard at the baking tin.

  Irene bunched the towel in her hands. “Elly?”

  “Ma.” She knew the question before her ma asked. “We’ve already discussed Bo. I am not going to marry him.”

  “That wasn’t the question. I was about to ask if you were in love with Gideon.”

  Elly took the towel from her to dry a plate. “Didn’t Pa tell you where Bo has been or what he’s been doing all these years?”

  “We’re back to Bo, are we?” She took the towel back. “Your pa only mentioned that Bo was back—that we would talk more about him this morning.”

  Elly filled her in on the sordid details of Bo’s missing seven years. Seemingly shocked, Irene shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like our Bo, not in the least.”

 

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