A Veiled Reflection

by Tracie Peterson

  “Oh, he didn’t hurt Hope, did he?” Jillian asked quite anxiously.

  “No. He finally put his anger aside enough to recognize the life of his sister in the baby. We discussed the situation, and we both agreed that Hope would be better off among her own people.”

  “You didn’t think I could do a good job for her, is that it?” Jillian questioned, sniffing back tears.

  Mary patted her hand. “Now, deary, you know that ain’t true. But Hope’s life in the white world would have been difficult at best. Your father and mother’s feelings would only be the start of it. You know how folks would treat her, and no matter how hard she tried to fit in and how nice you dressed her, she’d still be bullied and picked on. At least among the Navajo her appearance won’t be so unusual. She’s going to be dark like her mother, and even though she’s half white, she’ll probably never look it.”

  Jillian began to see the logic in what Mary was saying. “So because people are unwilling to set aside their prejudices and see a child for who she is, instead of her ancestry, Hope is lost to me?”

  Mary’s expression held a great deal of sorrow. “I know this is hard for you. But I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t seemed right. I prayed about my decision, and I think she’ll be better off growin’ up Navajo. She’s going to be raised by some of Little Sister’s extended family.”

  “Will they be less judgmental when considering her white blood?” Jillian questioned. She felt angry and knew her tone betrayed this, but she didn’t care.

  “I hope so,” Mary replied. “Little Sister was greatly loved before Bear told the people that she had betrayed them. Bear set the record straight, and now the Navajo mourn the loss of Little Sister. But with the baby, they can celebrate her life as well. They seemed quite pleased to take her, and before I left, I saw that she was already a part of the family.”

  Jillian got to her feet. Mary’s words made perfect sense, but her heart ached to realize she would not be the one to raise Hope as her own or even to be a part of her everyday life.

  “I know you did what you thought was right, Mary.” She wiped at her tears and looked at Mac. “I suppose I can see the sense in it, but it doesn’t hurt any less, just because I understand it to be the better choice.”

  “Of course it doesn’t,” Mac said, opening his arms to her. Jillian hesitated a moment, then walked into his embrace. “It’s one of those times, Jilly,” he whispered in her ear, “one of those times of having enough faith to trust that God knows what He’s doing.”

  Jillian nodded and looked into Mac’s loving gaze. “I know you’re right, but it hurts so much. I’m going to miss her, Mac.”

  “Me too. But there will be others, I promise you,” he said with a cocky grin. “I intend to have a big family, and I already know you’ll make the perfect mother.”

  Jillian blushed. “And you’ll make the perfect father.” She glanced at Mary, who watched them in silence. “And they’ll need a grandmother nearby,” Jillian finally said, pulling back enough from Mac to extend her arm to Mary. “One who isn’t full of superstitious nonsense and scary stories.”

  Mary came to them and smiled. “I’ve got a few scary stories,” she admitted, “but they’re all true and usually good for teaching a lesson here and there and keeping curious children out of danger.”

  “Just don’t tell them that Spider Woman is going to eat them,” Jillian stated quite seriously. “That one still gives me a queer feeling.”

  Mac and Mary chuckled, causing Jillian to smile. She would survive this sadness. She would find strength in her faith that God knew what was best. Because the alternative was quite unthinkable. For if God didn’t know best, who did?

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  JILLIAN TRIED NOT TO BE DEPRESSED. After all, it was her wedding day—again. She and Gwen agreed to resume plans for the double wedding that had been earlier suggested, and although the issue of Bear and his men had not yet been resolved, Zack agreed.

  Plans for a party of grand proportions took shape at the Harvey House, and a telegram arrived from Mr. Harvey himself issuing the house manager to draw on Harvey House funds to pay for the party. Mr. Harvey might run his restaurants on a tightly organized list of rules, but he loved his girls and had a generous heart. It wasn’t the first time someone had known him to throw a party for an engaged Harvey Girl, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  Gwen, although nervous about the evening’s events, had confided in Jillian that she feared that Zack would forever be off searching for someone and that they might never actually get married. This opened the conversation for Jillian.

  “I don’t mean to meddle, but are you sure you’re up to being married to a lawman? I mean, you’ve fretted and fussed so much over the last few days, and naturally so. But still, it won’t be easy.”

  Gwen’s expression changed to one of concern. “I know you’re right, and it is a worry. But I love him so much. I talked to him about these fears and we prayed about them.” She smiled ever so slightly. “But, Jillian, to not deal with my fears over this would mean to lose him. I can’t do that. I’d rather have him for a short time than no time at all.”

  Jillian hugged Gwen and sniffed back tears. “I know how you feel. I hate it when Mac has to go riding off out there into the wilds of the country. I worry that he’ll encounter a wild animal or poisonous snake. I fret that bandits might come upon him or that his horse will lose its footing. But Mary told me that worrying about it was a sin. She said I might as well say that God can’t do His job and that He isn’t faithful to His Word.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Gwen admitted, wiping at her own tears.

  Jillian smiled. “Now, come on. This is our wedding day and we aren’t supposed to cry, at least not yet.”

  Later in the afternoon, Jillian sat working with her hair while Gretchen fussed around the hotel room. “Your sister should be here any minute. I hope she remembered to bring her mauve silk. I want a photograph of this day, and the silk always reads best in photos.”

  “Where did you find a photographer?” Jillian questioned, securing a curl with a long hairpin.

  “Your father brought him in from Winslow,” Gretchen replied. “Your father really is a good man, Jillian.”

  Jillian stopped in her task and looked at her mother. “I know he is. I regret that he wasn’t very affectionate. I regret, too, that often his business always seemed more important to him than his family.”

  “But that isn’t true,” Gretchen said to her daughter. “He wasn’t raised with much affection. You know, he wasn’t a man of means when he was young. He made himself what he is today. He’s widely respected and held in esteem, something his father never had. You can’t understand how it was for him, but his family suffered greatly when he was a child.”

  “Then why does he have such little compassion for the poor—the Indians? Why does he worry over my social standing in Arizona and desire to see Mac and I live in Kansas City?”

  “He doesn’t want to see you suffer, Jillian. He doesn’t want you to know what it is to do without. He watched his mother shed tears of anguish as she sent her children to bed hungry. He had nightmares for years after we were married, recalling the horror of watching siblings die because there was no money for a doctor. Then, too, he watched his father die at the hands of a physician who bled him to death.”

  “So that’s why he’s never had much use for doctors?”

  Gretchen nodded. “It’s also why he’s never had much use for religion and God. By understanding these things, perhaps you won’t judge him so harshly. Maybe they even explain your grandmother’s strange concerns and superstitions. She had lived a life of misery and suffering until your father managed to make a fortune for himself. I suppose her superstitions were all she had to make sense of the world.”

  “They terrified me,” Jillian said, turning back to the mirror. “I used to lie awake at night and worry that some clumsy mistake of mine had caused the death of someone in t
he family. I worried that she would come back to haunt me and blame me for her own death.”

  Gretchen came up behind Jillian and hugged her. “I had no idea. I thought you knew it was nonsense.”

  “I do now, Mother. I’ve found something real, however.” She turned and gently touched her mother’s shoulder. “I found that God loves me and has given His Son to save me from eternal death. It isn’t at all like those piously spoken words we heard in the church back in Kansas City. God really does love us, Mother. He doesn’t want any of us to go to bed afraid of dying, and He doesn’t want us to hurt one another by showing prejudice and snobbery. Do you know that the Bible says it’s actually a sin to treat someone badly because he’s poor or sick or not dressed as nicely as you are?”

  Gretchen shook her head. “I suppose I didn’t.”

  Jillian nodded. “I didn’t either. But, Mother, it has changed my life—forever.”

  Gretchen looked at her daughter quite seriously. “Yes, I can see that.”

  “Jillian! Mother!” It was Judith calling out at the top of her lungs as she burst into the hotel room.

  Jillian turned to find her twin rushing to her for an embrace. Her blue feathered hat was askew on her rather disheveled hair, and her blue serge traveling suit was smudged here and there from soot, but otherwise, she was just as she had always been.

  “I see you’re still in one piece,” Judith declared as she hugged Jillian. “You didn’t fall off the ends of the earth, which, by the way,” she said, grinning conspiratorially, “is just west of Flagstaff.”

  Jillian laughed. “Neither did I get swallowed up by scorpions or snakes. Although I have seen several of each.”

  Gretchen shook her head. “You girls will be the death of me with your spirit for adventure.”

  Judith put her arm around her mother and kissed her on the cheek. “Well, speaking of adventure, guess who is going to have a baby!”

  Jillian watched her sister’s face light up in evident pleasure. “A baby! Oh, Judith, congratulations!”

  “A baby?” their mother questioned. “I’m going to be a grandmother?”

  Judith nodded. “Yes, and hopefully Jillian won’t be too far behind me. I want our children to be close in age, and I want there to be at least a half dozen of them for each of us.”

  “I’ll tell Mac,” Jillian laughed.

  Just then their father came into the room, directing the hotel bellboy as to where he could deposit Judith’s bags.

  “You’ll tell Mac what?” her father asked rather gruffly.

  Jillian grinned. “You called him Mac.”

  Her father flushed a bit at the collar and looked away. “I was merely repeating you.”

  “Well, Judith just announced that she’s to have a baby, and she figured we should both have at least a half dozen children.”

  “You’ll need them for company, if for no other reason,” her father replied. “This territory seems rather empty.”

  Jillian went to her father and touched his arm, looking at him as if for permission to speak. His expression softened just a bit, and Jillian beamed him a smile. He was changing. He’d considered her words, of this she was sure, and he was changing his mind about her husband and their new life.

  “Some wealthy entrepreneur could always figure out a few new businesses to help boost growth for an empty territory,” she said softly.

  Her father actually smiled at this. “What makes you think I’m not already working on that? After all, I’ve got to have some reason to make frequent trips out here.”

  “You’ll always have a reason to come if I’m here,” she said, putting her arms around his neck. “You will always be welcome in our house.”

  He hugged her close and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Then, as if the intimacy of the moment were too much for his stern nature, he set her aside.

  “Mrs. Danvers, we have a wedding to attend in a few short hours. I would suggest you get our girls prepared.”

  Gretchen smiled. “With pleasure, my dear. With pleasure.”

  * * *

  Mac pulled at his starched collar and wondered why he felt so nervous. It wasn’t like he and Jillian weren’t already married, so what was the fuss?

  He checked his black suitcoat a second time and picked furiously at several pieces of lint.

  “You’re gonna wear a hole in that suit or this floor if you don’t settle down,” Mary chided.

  “I don’t know why I feel so nervous. I mean, she’s already my wife. She can’t back out now,” he said with a stilted laugh.

  Mary chuckled and came to help him on with the coat. “You need to be gettin’ on over to the church. We’ll have just about enough time to walk leisurely.”

  Mac nodded. “I’m glad you’re here, Mary. I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you hadn’t been.”

  “Could I have a word with you?” Colin Danvers called through Mac’s open door.

  Mac straightened and tried his best to look self-assured and confident. “Of course, come in.”

  Mary squeezed his arm. “I’ll be waitin’ for you at the church.” She slipped out the door just as Danvers opened it. “Good to see you, Mr. Danvers,” she said.

  He tipped his bowler hat to the old woman, then turned to Mac. “I’ve come to say something—something important.”

  “If you’re hoping to talk us out of getting married, it’s too late. Remember?” Mac said, trying to sound amused. In fact, he was quite guarded and fearful of what Danvers would try. He didn’t want to see Jillian’s special day ruined, but he knew this was just the man who could do the job.

  Danvers fidgeted with his hat and cast his gaze downward. “I’ve actually come to apologize.”

  Mac stood completely silent, uncertain what he should say. “Apologize?”

  Danvers squared his shoulders and looked Mac straight in the eye. “I was wrong, and when I’m wrong I say so. I shouldn’t have tried to interfere with your life or with Jillian’s. If you and my daughter are happy here, then I should find that satisfactory.”

  “And do you?”

  Danvers smiled. “I’m learning to. It won’t be easy. Jillian and Judith have been the light of my world, along with their mother.”

  “I’m not sure Jillian’s ever known that,” Mac replied. “I’m not sure she has either. I’m not sure any of them know it, but I intend for them to learn. If you can forgive an old fool, I’d like to offer this as a wedding gift.” He handed Mac a bank draft.

  Looking at the generous sum, Mac said, “I don’t know what to say. This seems like an awfully large wedding gift.”

  Danvers laughed. “It’s only money, my boy. I think I can see that now.”

  “And you aren’t trying to buy us in some way? After all, you were the one who said everyone had their price,” Mac said suspiciously.

  Sobering, Colin Danvers nodded. “I said a great many things that I regret. You proved to me that not all men can be bought off. I respect that in you, and I know my daughter is getting a decent man for a husband. I won’t worry that someone else will come along to entice you to leave her. I won’t worry that you’ll put your profession ahead of her well-being.”

  Mac nodded. “I might have been that man at one time, but I’m someone different now. I promise that I love your daughter with all my heart. I’ll never willingly hurt her.”

  “If you do, you’ll answer to me,” Danvers replied gruffly, then with a smile he nodded toward the door. “I think we’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”

  * * *

  Mac watched Jillian come down the aisle of the small church on the arm of her father. A vision in white satin and lace, he smiled proudly at the knowledge that this woman belonged to him. Through the filmy veil that covered her face, he could see her smile at him. It was almost as if she was now reassuring him instead of him reassuring her.

  Next, Gwen came in on the arm of Sam Capper. Gowned in a simple creation of bleached muslin and lace, she looked no
less regal as she took hold of Zack’s arm.

  The ceremony itself was brief but lovely. Mac felt a surge of sheer delight when Reverend Lister pronounced them husbands and wives and allowed for a marital kiss to seal the ceremony.

  “Mrs. MacCallister, I believe,” Mac said, lifting Jillian’s veil.

  “Dr. MacCallister,” she whispered as his lips closed over hers.

  The congregation burst into applause and cheers, and before he knew what was happening, Mac and Jillian were headed out of the church and on their way to the Harvey House for what promised to be an exceptional celebration.

  Catching sight of the prune-faced Mrs. Everhart and her daughter, Davinia, standing in front of the Indian Affairs office, Mac nudged Jillian. “Did someone not get their invitation to the wedding?”

  Jillian giggled. “They were invited but chose not to attend.”

  Mac nodded. “Good. Isn’t there some superstition about having a sour-faced, bitter old woman at the wedding being bad luck?”

  “Oh, Mac,” she laughed. “Behave yourself. You know we don’t believe in those things.”

  Inside the Harvey House, the wedding party went on until nearly midnight. Jillian and Mac danced and ate and laughed until they were both certain they would drop from sheer exhaustion. Mac felt a deep sense of gratitude when Mary pulled them both aside and shoved them toward the back door.

  “Get out of here, you two. You’ve been here long enough.”

  Jillian leaned over and kissed Mary on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Get on with you,” Mary said, waving her off. “You’d do the same for me.”

  Jillian stopped in her tracks and looked at Mac. “Now there’s an idea. We need to find a husband for Mary.”

  The old woman’s laughter threatened to bring down the house. “That’ll be the day!” she declared, slapping her knee in a very unladylike manner.

  “You never know,” Mac said teasingly. “I once said I’d never marry again.” He looked back to Jillian and reached out to touch her cheek. “But I was walking against the wind, and somehow it seemed the better course to change directions and walk with it.”