by Danni Roan
“Is it wrong of me to be a little sad that we never found out what the problem was between them?” Sara asked, spinning gracefully under his hand.
“No, they still haven’t told us what the disagreement was about, but at least they are friends again and have given us their blessing.”
The music stopped and together they stood on the floor applauding the players. Old Byron, the livery hostler tapped his boot three times, as he lifted his fiddle bow and started into a sweet waltz.
Rafe pulled Sara close and together they started to sway to the music. “I wish this night never had to end,” Sara said, resting her head on his shoulder as they moved to the music with the other couples.
On the far side of the floor, she noticed Janine showing an awkward Bruno the steps of the dance, catching the spark in the young man’s eye as he watched Janine.
“It doesn’t have to,” Rafe whispered low.
Sara Adams looked up into the soft brown eyes she had gazed into so many times before, but saw no laughter in them.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked, still moving effortlessly around the floor.
“Yes.”
“But how?”
“Pastor Dalton’s right over there,” Rafe said, tipping his head in the direction of the preacher.
“But what about our folks?” Sara asked her eyes full of hope.
“I don’t think we can do anything more for them,” Rafe said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Sara turned her head to look at her mother, biting her lip as her emotions bubbled in her chest.
“Rafe.”
The young cowboy gripped her hand tight, pulling it close to his chest. “I don’t want to go home without you, Sara.” His voice was husky, his words full of love.
A slow smile spread across Sara’s face. “We’ll talk to Pastor,” she agreed, letting Rafe dance her toward the far wall.
***
“You learn fast,” Janine said to Bruno as he quickly took the lead, twirling her joyfully through the steps.
“My pa taught me to dance a little, but he danced kinda different.” Bruno ginned.
“You miss him, don’t you?”
“Every day.”
Janine leaned into him, liking the way he felt next to her, remembering how warm and comforting he had been on their ride down the mountain.
“Bruno,” she spoke tentatively, “you don’t mind that I’m not very good at things, do you?”
“What?” He pulled back, looking at her more closely.
“With all that happened I realized how useless I’ve been,” she said, not meeting his eyes, “I’m trying to learn now, but…” her voice trailed off.
Bruno did the one thing he had wanted to do all his life, he pulled Janine close, resting his cheek against her head. She smelled sweet, the way she always did, and fit his arms perfectly.
“Darlin’ you’re always special to me and whatever you want to do, I’ll help you.”
He could feel her grin against his shirt.
The last song came to a stop and the couples broke apart, clapping while Old Byron announced a break for refreshments, but no one moved toward the tables as they waited for Pastor Dalton to bless the food.
A general buzz erupted as the pastor, deeply engrossed a conversation with Rafe and Sara, did not answer to his cue.
Bruno and Janine watched as the portly preacher nodded emphatically at the young couple then turned to blink at the assembled town, looking startled at the attention.
“You’re s’posed ta bless the grub,” Byron called in a stage whisper.
Pastor Dalton smiled, his eyes sparkling brightly. “Now you all just hold on a minute.” He began, “We have something important goin’ on here.”
Men, women and children gazed at each other expectantly.
“Our Sara and Rafe here, they’re eloping.”
Startled gasps echoed across the barn.
“Ya can’t elope if you’re tellin’ folks,” a rowdy cowboy called from the back of the crowd, garnering laughs from the others.
Pastor Dalton waved a pudgy hand to quiet his usually cooperative congregation.
“Well that’s what we’re callin’ it, just the same. Sara and Rafe are eloping publicly.”
“Sara what are you doing?” Maud Adams called as she hobbled toward the preacher.
Sara looked at Rafe and swallowed, her bright green eyes worried.
“Mrs. Adams.” Rafe spoke, his voice polite but firm, “Sara and I love each other.” He looked around those gathered. “Most of you know by now that Sara and I have been courtin’ quietly since Christmas more than a year ago,” he said, his face flushing slightly.
Many of the men and women smiled and nodded at each other knowingly.
“Rafe, what are you gettin’ at?” Harlan moved to stand beside Maud.
“Pa, what I’m trying to say is that we’ve courted long enough to know we’re right for each other and we want to be married tonight.”
A collective gasp spread across the crowd.
Taking Harlan’s arm for support, Maud made her way to where the young couple stood, arms twined around each other.
“Mama, I’m sorry,” Sara said tears springing to her eyes, “I don’t mean to upset anyone but…” she sniffed looking up at Rafe, her heart in her throat.
Maud Adams placed her hand on her daughter’s face, brushing away a tear as it trickled down her cheek and smiled sadly.
“I understand, honey,” she said, her eyes soft.
Rafe looked at his father, who stood shaking his head. “I guess we’re having a Valentine’s Dance Wedding,” he said, making his son smile with relief.
“By gum, it’s a wedding, then,” Pastor Dalton called, raising his hand and garnering a cheer from the crowd.
“Well git on with it, then,” Byron grumped from his place on the little stage, “I’m getting hungry.”
Another round of laughter rocked the sturdy structure as a bustle of activity ensued.
“Sara, have you lost your mind?” Aquila hissed as she made her way to her little sister.
“No Quil, I’m haven’t lost my mind, I’m in love,” Sara bridled, staring her sister down. “I believe you know what that is like.”
Aquila Adams blushed. “Well, I guess if Mama says it’s alright,” she faltered.
Cameron reached across his wife, offering his hand. “Welcome to the family,” he grinned, shaking Rafe’s hand enthusiastically. “It’ll be nice not to be quite so outnumbered,” the dark-haired cowboy teased. “Quil, I think your mother needs you,” he added, pulling her along with him.
“What’s going on?” Priscilla asked, joining Sara and Rafe as the men behind them shifted things around, preparing for the ceremony.
“I’m getting married.” Sara said, smiling brightly.
“What, when did that happen?” Prissy asked. She had a tiny spot of jam on her chin. “Rupert wanted me to try a jam tart, then the next thing I know everyone started laughing and now you’re getting married.”
Sara pulled her sister close. “Never change Pris, you’re perfect just the way you are.”
Priscilla shrugged, looking at Rafe. “You take good care of her,” she chided, “and don’t keep all the baked goods for yourself. I need fudge, you know.”
“Dearly beloved,” Pastor Dalton intoned a few minutes later, his voice not quite able to penetrate the hubbub in the barn.
Clearing his throat, he tried again, this time his voice booming out, “Dearly beloved!”
Silence fell over the crowd, who turned back to their pastor.
“Now folks,” he said in a more normal voice. “Gather around and let’s have a wedding.”
George Olson seemed to appear out of nowhere to offer Sara his arm, helping her step up onto the little platform where the musicians had been playing only a short time ago.
“Wait, wait,” Mrs. Bently rushed in, a soft pink veil, the perfect color to complement Sara’s,
rose blush dress, fluttering in her hands. “Just let me fix this, Pastor,” she said, bustling around the young bride.
“There,” she gushed, “the perfect bride.”
“Where ever did you get a pink veil?” Maud whispered to the shopkeeper’s wife.
“I accidently washed it with Mr. Bently’s red long-johns,” the other woman blushed nearly as pink as the veil.
As if knowing she wanted them there, Aquila and Priscilla moved to stand behind Sara, as Cam joined Rafe and Harlan.
“Who gives this woman to be joined to this man in wedded bliss?” Pastor Dalton called jovially.
“I do.” Maud’s voice was strong and clear.
The ceremony flew by as the pastor’s familiar words were greeted with soft sighs, and romantic oohs and aahs.
Sara held to Rafe’s hand, her world focused on his eyes as she replied to her prompts and ques. When the pastor finally said the words she had been straining to hear, she threw herself into Rafe’s arms, kissing him soundly.
Raucous laughter and heartfelt cheers filled the barn as the pastor pronounced them man and wife.
***
“Well, that sure was something,” Mr. Williams said, his arms crossed over his protruding belly.
“Yes, sir,” Bruno agreed, holding a plate in one hand as he watched his friends and neighbors enjoying a delightful meal.
“Rafe got himself a right fine girl, I’d say,” the banker continued. “Yes sir-ee, a good, capable and easy-going girl.”
“I’m happy for both of them,” Bruno agreed.
“Any fella who marries my Janine better be prepared to deal with her temper,” Jasper said, turning his eyes on his daughter, where she was busy congratulating her old friend.
“I don’t know, sir,” Bruno postulated, “I think Janine’s a right sensible girl when she gets a chance to think about it.”
The older man laughed. “You think so, do you?” he chortled mockingly. “I beg to differ.”
Bronwyn Sparak had been raised to be quiet, unassuming and polite, but his ire rose at Mr. Williams disparaging of his own daughter.
“Janine’s a strong, young woman,” Bruno said softly. “She has a mind of her own; all she needs is to believe in herself.”
This time Mr. Williams outright laughed. “A mind of her own,” his belly shook with his laugh, “that she does and no man will bend her to his will.”
“Why would he want to?” Bruno felt the heat rising along his neck and he tugged at his collar. “She should be able to make her own decisions.”
“Son, Janine needs someone to guide her. She’s not prepared to deal with this world like other women are.” He shook his head, placing a thick-fingered hand on Bruno’s shoulder. “I tell you now son, if you were to call her over, here she wouldn’t come.” Again, he shook his head.
“Why would I expect her to?” Bruno mused.
“I’d bet you a thousand dollars she’d give you a scathing look at best, and an earful of grief more likely, if you called her. She’s willful that way.”
“I think Janine has a mind of her own and can decide what she wants to do. I also think she trusts me enough to come over if I call.”
The older man shook his head again and laughed.
Bruno stood up tall, brushing the older man’s hand away. “I’ll take that bet, Mr. Williams. I don’t think you give Janine enough credit for having sense. You want her to stay your little girl so badly you can’t see the woman she’s become.”
Mr. William’s eyes glinted, the hard banker shining through. “I’ll wager you one thousand dollars,” he said, raking Bruno with hostile eyes, “against you never bothering my daughter again.”
Bruno turned, looking across the room to where Janine stood talking to Sara’s family, a bright smile on her face. She turned, catching him looking at her, and fluttered her fingers in a little wave.
“I don’t hold to bossing women around,” Bruno said, “but I’ll take your wager just to prove to you that Janine can think for herself.” He jabbed his hand at Mr. Williams who took it, giving it a hard shake.
Bruno sucked in a deep breath and held it as he cast his eyes to the ceiling, seeking God’s grace. “Let her trust me enough to come over when I call,” he prayed, then called across the room loudly.
“Janine!” Heads all over turned to him. “Come here, please.”
Several of the partygoers smirked as they heard his words and waited expectantly for the girl’s familiar outburst; already her brows had furrowed dangerously.
Mr. Williams began to chuckle as he rocked back on his heels, but his toes slapped noisily to the earth again as the red-haired vixen turned and made her way toward them.
He snapped his head to Bruno, who smiled encouragingly at Janine, evoking a soft smile on her shapely lips.
“Bruno,” she chided, getting closer, “that wasn’t very polite.” Her father began to grin again. “What do you need, anyways?” she finished, looking at him curiously.
Bruno reached out a work-roughened hand, caressing the smooth alabaster of her cheek. “I just wanted to ask you something,” his words were a soft purr.
“Yes?”
“Why did you come when I called?”
Janine looked at him seriously. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Please just answer the question,” he said, his heart was pounding so loudly he thought it could be heard across the room.
Janine reached up, laying her hand over his where it rested on her cheek. “Because you asked me to, Bruno. You’ve never done anything that wasn’t for my own good and you believe in me even when I don’t believe in myself.”
Bruno closed his eyes, his hand pulsing like a solar flare against her face. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“It’s alright,” Janine said. “I’m happy to help you the way you help me. That’s what people do when they care for each other.” Her eyes dropped, but Bruno’s opened wide.
“Are you saying you care for me?” Bruno asked, hope and joy making him shiver.
“Yes,” Janine said, her voice soft but her eyes steady as she smiled shyly.
“Would you do one more thing for me?” His voice was a strangled whisper.
“How can I help?” she said meeting his eyes confidently.
“Kiss me.”
This time Bruno was sure that Janine would refuse. There were too many people and her father was standing right beside them. He could see a thousand thoughts racing through her mind as she blinked at him for one, two, three eternal seconds.
Janine leaned forward, resting her hand on his cheek in a mirrored pose of his own, and then brushed her lips against his.
Soft gasps echoed behind her and she heard her father spluttering, but she didn’t care. She wanted to kiss Bruno. She had never wanted to do anything so much in her whole life. His question was like permission to throw open the doors and windows of her heart.
She settled back on her heels, blinking up at him. His midnight blue eyes were hooded, but also full of love. She knew, in her heart, he would explain everything to her if she just waited.
“Mr. Williams,” Bruno turned to her father as he wound a warm strong arm around Janine. “You can keep your money. I have something more valuable, I have the trust of a woman who knows her own mind.”
A delicious shiver ran down Janine’s spine as she snuggled close to Bruno, at the words of confidence that poured from his mouth.
“Baby,” Mr. Williams said, noting the spark in his daughter’s eyes.
“Pa? You waged on if I’d come over or not?” Her voice held hurt and she wrapped her arm around Bruno’s waist against the pain.
“Now baby,” the banker began. “You know you aren’t any good at making decisions for yourself. I thought that this would put an end to all this independence nonsense,” he held out pleadingly.
“Daddy, I don’t think that was very nice,” the girl said, advancing on him. “All my life I thought the only thing I was good for was looking
pretty and shopping. I felt empty inside, useless.” She stopped, standing before him, her voice calm.
Jasper Williams stared at his daughter as if he had never seen her before. “I only wanted you to have the best of everything,” he said, his face sagging.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me Daddy,” Janine said softly, “but we all need to be able to do things, to be part of something.”
“Aren’t you going to yell at me?” her father asked, still waiting for her tantrum.
“No,” Janine said, “I don’t need to.” She turned and smiled at Bruno. “I know I can be who I want to be now, that I’m important and can do what I want.”
Bruno reached a hand toward her, his heart full of pride.
“I’m sorry if you don’t understand, Daddy,” Janine said over her shoulder, her eyes still on Bruno’s handsome face. “Bruno helps me be better.” She took his hand. “I’m afraid if you want me, you’re going to have to accept him as well.”
Jasper Williams gaped as together the two-young people moved into a lively dance with the other guests. It had been a confusing night, with an unexpected wedding, and a completely new revelation about his daughter.
“Don’t worry,” George Olson said, walking up to him and offering him a glass of punch. “If you give ‘em their heads now and again, they’ll find their way back home.”
“You think so?”
“Yep, but I’d start plannin’ a big wedding soon if’n I was you,” the old man chuckled.
Chapter 10
Spring rolled slowly into Biders Clump. New lambs rollicked in the high grasslands, while white-faced calves skittered across the lower fields.
Green returned to the rolling hills that reached like upstretched hands toward the tall peaks of the towering mountains.
“Weather’s right nice, isn’t it?” George asked as his chair creaked softly on the front porch, where it sat bathed in an afternoon glow.
“Yep,” Polly agreed. “It’ll be a nice day for a wedding.”
“You all ready for the wedding supper?” George continued, pushing his chair back and forth.
“When did you ever know me not to be ready for a wedding supper?”
