A Promise to Believe In

by Tracie Peterson

  Rafe put his hand to his chest as if struck. “Now, that hardly seems Christian.” He laughed and gave a mocking bow. “Wyman and I have bets on you, Mr. Bishop. We’re betting you won’t make it to Christmas.”

  Hank shook his head. “At this rate, if I were a betting man, I’d have to say that you’re the only one who may be gone by Christmas. I just guided two new families here who want to set up business in this area. Funny thing, though: none of them are very fond of saloons. First comment they made when they arrived was how they’d love to see you run out of business.”

  “That’ll never happen,” Rafe growled. He shoved past Hank and left the same way he’d come, muttering obscenities and stomping.

  Gwen looked up at Hank and sighed. “I can’t believe you’re finally here. I was so worried.”

  He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I figured you might be. I tried to hurry.” He smiled. “Believe me—no one wanted me back here more than I did.”

  “How’s your mother?”

  Hank sobered. “She’s fine. She’s deeply saddened over the news about Harvey, but as I had suspected, she already believed this would be the outcome. She was happy to have the stocks returned and made me promise I would bring you to see her someday.”

  “She . . . approved . . . of me?” Gwen asked hesitantly.

  “Of course she did. Not only that, but I told her how much you had loved Harvey and how you were there for him right up until the end. That comforted her to know he died being loved and cared for.”

  “I’m glad. It means a great deal to me to know she doesn’t oppose our marriage.”

  Gwen noticed that Beth and Lacy stood silently at the other end of the room. She nodded toward her sisters. “Now you’ll just have to work on getting their approval.”

  Hank laughed. “I brought them both presents from Boston.

  I’m hoping it might persuade them.”

  “Presents?” Beth said, looking at Lacy. “You think you can buy us off?”

  “Not exactly.” Hank grinned. “I just figured my sisters-in-law would like something new to wear. Something befitting a wedding. Then I thought they might enjoy some new reading materials.”

  “Books?” Beth gasped. “You brought books?”

  Lacy rolled her eyes. “Clothes and books. That will hardly win me over, Mr. Bishop.”

  “I didn’t suppose it would,” he admitted. “That’s why I brought a new bay mare with me. She’s young and spirited and kind of reminded me of you, except she’s expecting a foal in the spring.”

  Lacy looked at Beth and then to Hank. “A horse? A spirited horse?”

  “I thought you might want to start your own horse-breeding venture. The stock at the Lassiters could use some new blood.”

  “Now you’ll have them both eating out of your hand,” Gwen said with mock exasperation.

  “Wait,” Beth interjected. “I want to know what you brought Gwen.”

  “Me too,” Lacy admitted. “Horses are great, but my sister’s happiness is more important.”

  “I don’t need anything else,” Gwen declared. “I have Hank, and he’s all I want.”

  “Well, I did bring you something else,” Hank admitted. “In fact, I have several presents for you. But this one is very special.”

  He pulled a small box from his coat pocket and opened it. Inside, Gwen saw a beautiful gold ring with a diamond and several red stones. “This belonged to my grandmother,” he told her. “My mother suggested it might make a good wedding ring.”

  Her sisters rushed forward to see for themselves. They made several comments, but Gwen couldn’t register any of them. Her heart felt as if it might burst from the wonder of the moment.

  Gwen fought back tears as she lifted her face to Hank’s. “It’s beautiful. I have never thought of owning anything half so lovely.”

  “It’s not nearly as beautiful as you. I’ve done nothing but think of you since the day I rode out. You’ve been in my thoughts, my prayers, my every waking and sleeping moment.” He bent down on one knee and took hold of her hand. “Gwen Gallatin, will you marry me?”

  She looked at Beth and Lacy, who to her surprise were both crying. Beth was nodding her approval, while Lacy was more vocal. “Well, tell him yes!”

  Gwen laughed and looked down at Hank. “I thought I already had.”

  “Well, tell him again,” Lacy prompted.

  “Yes,” Beth insisted. “Tell him.”

  Hank smiled, and Gwen thought she would never, ever grow tired of those beautiful blue eyes staring deep into her soul. “Yes, Hank. I will marry you.”

  He laughed and got to his feet. “It’s a good thing. Otherwise, I don’t know what I would have done with my mother’s wedding dress.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The morning of October fourth dawned bright and clear. The air was chilled with the taste of snow that Gwen associated with the new dusting upon the mountaintops. It was a perfect day. A beautiful, perfect day.

  It was her wedding day.

  The circuit rider had come in last night and planned to ride out shortly after the wedding that, by Gwen’s calculations, would take place in a little less than four minutes.

  Beth came hurrying through the door, as if to confirm what Gwen already knew. “Everyone is here. They’re all in place. It’s time.” She was followed in by Lacy, who seemed rather pleased with her new gown and ran to the mirror to take one last look.

  “I never thought I’d like dressing up, but I have to say this gown makes me feel quite special.”

  “And it’s not even your wedding day, Lacy,” Beth declared, joining her sister at the mirror. “But I agree. I love this gown.” She twirled and watched the pale pink silk ripple. “Isn’t it amazing the way the material almost seems to be moving like a waterfall?”

  Lacy touched the bodice of her lavender gown. “I’ve never owned anything so lovely. I hope Dave eats his hat when he sees me in this.”

  “What?” Gwen asked, moving to the mirror to check her hair. “Why would you care what Dave thinks?”

  “Because he’s always telling me I need to dress more ladylike. With the cut of this bodice and all this lace,” she said, turning to cast a teasing grin, “he’ll know very well that I’m a lady.”

  Gwen laughed. “I suppose now would be the perfect time to let you both in on a little secret.”

  “Only if it’s quick. We need to get downstairs,” Beth declared.

  “Had you wondered at all about the color of your gowns?”

  Beth looked at Lacy and then to Gwen. “No.”

  “Not really,” Lacy admitted.

  “Hank told me he chose the colors because they reminded him of the shades of shirts you two graced him with when he first came here.”

  Beth flushed. “I had no idea. Oh dear. That must mean he still holds it against me.”

  “I only hid the blue dye,” Lacy protested. “The lack of proper amounts might have turned the pink shirts purple, but that was hardly my doing.”

  Gwen laughed. “He’s not mad at either of you, and neither does he hold it against you. Rather, it endears you to him. He remembers how defensive you were about me—how you both worked to protect me from him.”

  She touched a hand to her upswept hair. Ringlets of spun gold curled down around her face. Beth had secured a few dried flowers at the top of Gwen’s head and piled curls of hair around them. The effect was of a flowery tiara.

  Stepping back, she smiled. “I’m ready.”

  Her wide, belled gown of white satin was antiquated in its fashion but precious to her because it had once belonged to Hank’s mother, Matilda. The lace sleeves flared out to fall just below her elbows, and the bodice, though revealing of her neck and shoulders, was modestly cut and trimmed in lace.

  “You’re beautiful,” Beth said, coming to hug her sister. “I’m so happy for you. It’s just like a fairy tale. The beautiful princess and her handsome prince.”

  Gwen laughed. “I don’t know abo
ut that, but I am happy, and Hank is a prince among men.”

  “And he’s not half bad at picking out horses.”

  “What?” Gwen and Beth both said in surprise.

  Lacy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that you’re a horse, Gwen.” She giggled and hurried forward to embrace her older sister. “I think Dave is right about one thing. I’d do well to think about my words before letting them fly out of my mouth.”

  The main room of Gallatin House was filled with visitors for the wedding of Aloysius Bishop and his bride, Gwendolyn Gallatin. Hank paced nervously beside the fireplace. He’d chosen Jerry Shepard to stand up with him. Jerry had been faithful to help Hank with questions he had about the Bible, not to mention offering advice on dealing with the local folks and becoming a Montanan. He stood at Hank’s left and offered him a reassuring smile. Major Worthington sat at Hank’s heel and seemed to grant his approval, as well.

  When Lacy first appeared on the stairs, Hank quickly pulled back to stand beside the circuit rider. He heard Dave Shepard draw in a sharp breath and smiled. Lacy certainly had cleaned up well. Her cinnamon hair was worn long in waves of curls and fashionably pinned to drape on either side of her head.

  She looked quite elegant, and Hank pitied Dave Shepard for not taking a little more care in his costume.

  Beth walked down the stairs behind Lacy. She looked radiant and happy, yet Hank couldn’t help but notice that she cautiously held the banister while descending. She glanced behind her, then cast Hank a smile as if to assure him the best was yet to come.

  The white satin material of his mother’s wedding gown draped first one step and then another, until Gwen was finally in view. It was Hank’s turn to suck in his breath rather abruptly. He thought his heart might stop, it was pounding so laboriously. Gwen smiled at him, fixing her gaze on his face and never turning away.

  He couldn’t help but smile. She’s mine. She’s mine forever.

  The girls stood on either side of their sister, and when the preacher asked who was giving the bride, they announced that they both were. Then they surprised Hank by kissing him on the cheek before giving him first Gwen’s right hand and then her left.

  “Guard her well,” Lacy whispered.

  “Love her always,” Beth followed.

  They paused and in unison added, “Or you’ll answer to us.”

  Those close enough to hear chuckled. As they moved away to take their places, Beth met Hank’s eyes and grinned.

  “Nice white shirt, Hank.”

  He barely contained his laughter. “Lovely pink gown; purple’s nice, too.”

  Beth giggled and slipped in beside Lacy.

  The rest of the service was somewhat of a blur to Hank. He knew there were people—friends and neighbors who watched as he spoke a jumble of vows he would never be able to repeat verbatim but would always hold fast in his heart. He was also well aware of the beautiful woman at his side. When the preacher finally announced Hank should kiss his bride, the fog lifted and his new life seemed to dawn before him.

  Gwen lifted her face to him and smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Bishop.”

  “And to you, Mrs. Bishop.”

  Gwen watched as her dear friends cast smiles her way, then turned toward the bounty of food to be shared during the reception. She couldn’t help but wish that her father were here to join in this blessed day. She smiled. He would have been in his element, telling stories and sharing in the revelry. Gwen couldn’t help but believe he’d be pleased with Hank as his son-in-law. She stepped forward to follow the guests, but Hank tugged on her hand and brought her focus back to him. He took hold of her face in his hands. “I love you so very much, my dear Gwen.”

  Gwen smiled, and joy radiated from her eyes. “I love you too, Hank. I never thought I would love again. The wounds of losing Harvey ran so deep . . . but with you and God, I found healing.”

  “Amoris vulnus idem sanat, qui facit,” he whispered against her lips. “Love’s wounds are cured by love itself.” He kissed her long and tenderly.

  Gwen sighed against him and felt all of her fears drift away. Hank had given her a promise to believe in. Love had not only healed her wounds; love had given her the strength to let go of the past and look forward to the days to come.