by Sandra Kopp
I am currently living with Peter and Gilda Rainer, two of the finest people you will ever meet. Please know that I am safe and think of you every day. All my love, Melinda.
She posted another note to Edwin and Emily Greene, thanking them for her bridal chest and Edwin’s offer of support, and affirming her decision to stay in Teptiel.
Having disclosed her location and plans, Melinda felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Her family now knew her fate and need not worry, for Melinda had found work and safety.
Rich aromas of coffee and bacon, along with sounds of laughter and conversation, drifted from a cafe just ahead. Emma Bryant’s bakery sat directly across the street. Melinda paused as a cart rattled past before stepping off the board walk.
“Miss Greene!”
Melinda turned with a gasp. Her heart leapt as Eldor Rand emerged from the cafe.
“Miss Greene. Might I have a word?” Eldor wore the same shirt, breeches, and boots as the night before, and the same smile. Dumbstruck, Melinda could only nod.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
Melinda nodded again.
“Then let’s walk a bit while we talk.”
“I think all can be said right here,” Melinda returned.
Eldor’s smile faded. “You’re angry. I can’t blame you. You really must forgive me. I confess I was a complete boor. I don’t get into town much, and when I do it’s only for something extraordinary—like last night. I came in early and had too much to drink before going to the grange.”
“You did not appear drunk. You must be well acquainted with spirits to have contained their effects so well.”
Eldor sobered and looked down, but Melinda detected impish impudence behind the mask. “I suppose I deserved that,” he conceded. “However, I really do apologize for my hideous behavior. Except for peasants and herdsmen, I’m quite alone and unaccustomed to such lavish attention as was shown me by Marna…er, Miss Glendon. And—” His brows arched—“you weren’t exactly approachable last night. You actually seemed to wish yourself elsewhere.” Eldor stepped closer and offered his arm. “But that’s all behind us now, eh? Come. Let’s talk.”
Melinda hesitated, but as Eldor continued to beckon, shyly laid her fingertips on his elbow. Eldor’s free hand grasped hers and tucked it securely into the crook of his arm, and Melinda could not help but marvel at its strength. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered and led her slowly down the walk.
Several moments passed before Eldor spoke. “My farm lies three miles north—it borders Braun Topyl’s, as a matter of fact—and I recently acquired more land and a sizeable herd of cattle in the foothills.” He sighed and then continued wryly, “I’ve also acquired a sizeable number of Wyar herdsmen, which may or may not be to my benefit. They prove something of a trial.” He looked down at her. The smile returned. “Surely you understand.”
“I don’t know,” Melinda returned. “Why do you consider the Wyars difficult? I’ve met only Braun Topyl, but he seems decent and a hard worker. And you can’t blame them for following a leader who promised to restore the land Liedor took from them.”
“True, and yes, they are hard workers but very set— immovable, in fact—in their ways. Most speak very little of the common language, so I’ve had to learn theirs—not an easy task, I assure you.”
“I see,” Melinda murmured.
“At any rate, I do find you a comely lass—beautiful, in fact. You seem strong and not afraid to work. You could be a great help to me. I mean to take you on. We’ll marry tomorrow.”
Melinda stopped and shook her head. Eldor’s brows shot up. “No?” he queried.
“I feel there should be more thought given to the matter, more time to know one another.”
“You question our matchmaker?”
“I question us.”
Eldor’s face hardened, although he held his smile. “You needn’t fear me. I expect no more of you than what any farmer in these parts expects from his wife. I work hard and expect you shall, too.” His features relaxed as he squeezed her hand. “And I’ll take care of you. You’ll lack nothing.”
Melinda’s throat tightened. “I—I don’t know. As you said, I was quite aloof last night. Still thinking about my former fiancé—”
“Yes, I heard,” Eldor broke in. “Look, the fighting ended a year ago. Ryadok employed beasts capable of incinerating bodies and leaving no trace. If the Arganians found your man alive, they would have healed and floated him back down here long before now. I think you need to accept the fact he’s either dead or with another.”
Melinda sniffed. “How comforting!”
Eldor’s voice softened. “But true, I’m afraid. Look, I’m a practical man who’s worked hard for every scrap I have. I came from nothing. Now I have land and a chance to better myself. I can’t do it alone. I don’t make flowery speeches or sweep young ladies off their feet and ride off with them on a fiery steed. I’m just. . .me.”
Eldor stopped and turned to face her. His radiant smile warmed her to her toes. “I may be nothing like your last fellow, but I’ll do my best. And who knows: I may be even better.” Putting an arm around her then, he guided her across the street. “We’ll work it out as we go along, same as everyone else.”
They walked to the bakery door and stopped. Eldor took her hand. “I would like to stay and get better acquainted but, sadly, must return to my farm now. I’ll see you tomorrow in church.”
Melinda swallowed. “Might I go with you just to see the farm, and then—”
“That would require an extra journey to town and back, and I have too much to do. Never fear, you’ll see the farm tomorrow and every day after. Besides—” Eldor leaned down and kissed her cheek—“with the wedding just hours away you’ve got a few matters to attend to as well.” He squeezed her hand and then released it. “Good-bye, now.”
“Good-bye!” But before the words left Melinda’s mouth, long, swift strides propelled Eldor across the street and around the corner. Elation washed over her and she stood for a moment, mouth agape, hands clasped to her chest, face flushed and radiant.
“I can’t believe it! I’ll have to write Mother again!” Giddy with delight, she opened the bakery door and burst inside.
Emma Bryant was serving a lovely flaxen-haired woman in a long red gown whom Melinda recognized as Felicia Marchant. Emma glanced up as Melinda entered, and her blue eyes sparkled.
“Melinda, I understand you’re to be congratulated after all!” Emma hurriedly arranged some rolls in Felicia’s basket and covered them with a crisp white towel.
“Eldor caught me just across the street!”
“Yes, Peter Rainer saw him at Flanders this morning, visiting with Philip Schiff and that Glendon girl at breakfast,” Emma told her. “Eldor wasn’t eating with them. He just stopped by to apologize to Philip and wish them both well. Such a man! He’s got his quirks but, oh! Were I twenty years younger! You’ve done very well, Miss Greene; very well, indeed! But forgive me.” Emma gestured toward Felicia. “Have you met Felicia Marchant? She and her husband helped host the gathering last evening.”
“We were not formally introduced, but I remember seeing you there.” Melinda dipped her head to Felicia, who returned her nod while regarding her with a mixture of pity and consternation.
“Congratulations, Melinda,” Felicia said.
“Thank you. Eldor’s method didn’t resemble my idea of courtship. He quickly says what he needs to and then just as quickly goes his way.”
“Well.” Emma shrugged. “That’s how he is.” She brightened. “Since you no longer need employment, and you’ve a wedding to prepare for, I’m going to give you some nice strawberry tarts and send you on your way.” By the time she finished the sentence she had placed four delectable tarts into a basket. This she handed to Melinda and then playfully shooed her toward the door. “Off you go now. I’ll see you tomorrow at your wedding!”
“Thank you,” Melinda laughed.
She left the shop, unawar
e that Felicia had followed until Felicia caught her arm a few steps up the street. “Melinda, are you sure about this?” Felicia asked.
“About marrying Eldor? Yes. If you could have heard him this morning you would have seen he is tru—”
“I’ve no doubt he presented himself sincerely,” Felicia interrupted. “It’s just. . .”
Melinda regarded her narrowly. “You don’t like him.”
Felicia glanced away and then back. “I have known Eldor Rand for many years, and my husband has dealt with him, especially concerning Wyars. He has a quick temper and requires little provocation to use his fists. He has beaten several herdsmen.”
“But I like him, even his brusqueness. I perceive he knows what he wants and the means to obtain it.”
“Oh, that he does!” Felicia rolled her eyes. “Melinda, listen. My husband told me your uncle apprised him of your situation and will care for you and your mother without any obligation on your part.”
“I don’t want to go back,” Melinda protested. “I love this land, and I think I truly love Eldor Rand and can make him happy. I look forward to farm life and having children. Later I will send for Mother. She would like it here, too.” Melinda clasped her hands together. “Before Thomas died we spoke of building a life together in Teptiel. I love the mountains and foothills. I love this town. And I already have a friend, Luwanna Frye, who will be living nearby. Felicia—” Melinda slowly shook her head. “I am staying. And I will marry Eldor Rand.”
“Well. . .” Felicia drew a deep breath. “I wish you well.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. The golden sun smiled down from cloudless skies as if bestowing a special blessing on the prospective newlyweds. Peter Rainer’s buggy, bearing Peter, Gilda, Luwanna, and Melinda, turned off the main street onto the hard-packed dirt lane leading to Teptiel’s only church. A soft breeze caressed their faces, wafting the sweet fragrance of spring flowers into their nostrils and whispering promises of good things to come. A pleasant hum soothed their senses as bees gathered nectar for the delicious honey soon to be stocked on Peter’s mercantile shelves.
The white frame church, nestled amid scattered oak and pine, soon came into view. Philip Schiff stood under an oak amid the milling crowd, talking with Taran Lupish and Erik Tanner. Eldor Rand, dressed in black breeches and jacket, stood behind another oak in the farthest corner. His white shirt, ruffled at the throat, made his tanned face look even darker.
How handsome! Melinda sucked in a breath and held it, closing her eyes a moment as she tried to calm her pounding heart. If only Mother could see him! She would agree I made the right choice. I will make things right with her. Once settled, I will speak to Eldor about bringing her here. The mountain air will do her good and she would enjoy fresh wholesome food the rest of her life. She might even remarry.
Peter stopped the buggy under an oak and hopped down to assist Gilda. Melinda and Luwanna alighted. Braun Topyl, wearing a gray suit borrowed for the occasion, stood a short distance away, his hands in his pockets as he regarded Luwanna with unconcealed adoration. Luwanna’s long lashes fluttered and a radiant smile lit her face. Melinda looked for Eldor, but he had disappeared.
They filed into the rustic sanctuary, a long, narrow room with a hardwood floor and four stained-glass windows on each side. The ceiling resembled a ship’s bottom, each side gradually curving inward to form the keel in the middle. At the front hung a large wooden cross, before which was an altar covered with a white linen cloth. Two white candles flanked the thick opened Bible in the middle of the altar. Baskets of flowers had been placed on the floor on each side, one for each of the couples being married that day. On the right side, a lofty pulpit soared high above the pews, a beacon to guide the sin-wearied soul to the safe haven of grace.
Twelve wooden pews, now over half filled, lined each side of the center aisle. Melinda scanned the congregation. On the right side about halfway back, Braun Topyl sat with Taran Lupish. Francis and Della Glendon sat near the front on the left side. She saw no sign of Marna, Philip Schiff or Eldor Rand.
Melinda heard little of the sermon. Her thoughts wandered to her new home: Its size, what it looked like, how she would arrange furniture and decorations, what she would plant in her garden. She tried to picture the fields surrounding the house and the Alpenfels soaring behind it. And she tingled with anticipation and apprehension as she imagined her first night there, alone at last with the man of her dreams.
Luwanna nudged her. The sermon had ended and the congregation stood for the closing prayer. They sang one more hymn and then filed outside where the wedding ceremony would take place.
All about the grounds people clustered around the betrothed couples. The air hummed with introductions, wishes for happiness and good fortune, and offers of help. Several women squeezed Melinda’s hand, bidding her welcome and expressing good wishes. Melinda smiled and thanked them, but the pain of her mother’s absence made her heart ache.
Philip Schiff paced about, nervous and tight-lipped as he searched for his flighty bride. His tension evaporated as Marna Glendon, smiling voluptuously, uncoiled herself from around a pine. Her full red lips mouthed Philip’s name and, like an arrow shot from a marksman’s bow, he flew to her. Eldor Rand emerged around the other side, grinning broadly.
Melinda took a few steps, but hesitated. “Eldor?”
Eldor walked toward her, and the same giddiness Melinda had experienced at the grange the first time she saw him returned. A faint blush crept over her cheeks as she managed a timid smile.
Without so much as a glance in her direction, Eldor strode past, arms open wide to embrace an elderly woman who stepped forward to congratulate him. Foreboding seized Melinda. She turned away and started for Peter’s buggy, determined to hide there until the ceremony ended, but at that moment Eldor released the woman, seized Melinda’s hand, and turned her to him. A broad smile warmed his face as he regarded her kindly. “Hello, Medella.”
For a moment she simply stared; then, “My name is Melinda.”
“Ah, yes. Forgive me. As I told you yesterday I spend so much time around Wyar herdsmen these days that I have picked up much of their manner of speech.” He offered his arm. “Are you ready?”
Melinda’s mouth went dry. “I—don’t—”
“Come now, don’t be shy. As I told you yesterday, we’ll work everything out and build a splendid life together. You want that, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I still—”
“You’re nervous, as is everyone else who is marrying today. Once we’re settled and used to each other we’ll make a fine team. Right?”
Nodding dumbly, Melinda placed her hand in his arm and followed him to the line beside Philip, who put a possessive arm around Marna and edged her away a few steps.
“Ass,” Eldor muttered. He stared ahead as Melinda shot him a surprised glance.
The minister motioned for silence. “With the parties all here, let us begin.” He opened with a short prayer, then lectured them concerning the sanctity of marriage and the relationship between husband, wife, and God. He implored them to stand firm in the face of hardship, temptation, and trial, reminding them that such times would serve to make the times of prosperity and blessing all the more joyous.
“He who finds a wife has found a good thing,” he intoned. “Now let us pledge to one another your love and fidelity for as long as you live upon this earth.”
He did not take the time to go to each couple in turn; rather, the men first recited their vows as a group, and then the women. It seemed to Melinda that Eldor, for the most part, remained silent; yet at the end he presented her with a gold band and the minister pronounced them man and wife.
The celebration lasted but an hour. Most of the newlyweds—Braun and Luwanna Topyl in particular—left almost immediately. Eldor, however, remained to circulate among the crowd.
A tall man with a grizzled white beard and weather-worn face clapped Eldor on the shoulder.
His gray suit, while neat enough, appeared old and fit him awkwardly, and his stiff demeanor indicated discomfort at wearing such attire. “Well done, Eldor! You’re all yoked and respectable and finally worthy of a council seat. Maybe now we’ll get something done around here!”
Melinda stood beside Eldor, one hand resting on his elbow as she awaited an introduction, but Eldor straightened his arm and edged away. Mustering a pleasant smile, Melinda moved back beside him and quietly cleared her throat. Eldor ignored her, and as he became more engrossed in the conversation and totally oblivious to her, she slipped away, almost colliding with Francis Glendon as he emerged from the crowd.
“Melinda!” Francis lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I see you are married after all. Good for you! Now you don’t have to slave over somebody else’s stove.” His eyes twinkled and he laughed. “You can slave over your own!”
In spite of herself, Melinda laughed, too.
Francis sobered. “It was a genuine pleasure meeting you. My heartfelt wishes for a long and happy life!”
“Thank you. I enjoyed meeting you, too.” Melinda paused. “Are you leaving now?”
“In the morning. My family and business await.”
“You are very blessed,” Melinda said. “My best to you and your family. Safe journey.”
“Good-bye, Melinda.” Francis Glendon squeezed her hand, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Feeling very much alone, Melinda blinked back tears. She glanced at Eldor, who smiled and waved at the departing Schiffs. Marna blew him a kiss, flashed Melinda an impudent sneer and then looked ahead, tossing her golden curls. A few steps away Felicia folded tablecloths, refusing to meet Melinda’s gaze.
I should have listened to her. Dejected, Melinda wandered away to join Gilda at a nearby table.
At dusk Eldor came to claim her. Only the Rainers and Davon and Felicia Marchant remained on the emptied church grounds; even the minister had gone. Eldor bade the Rainers a hasty farewell, took Melinda’s arm, and set off for his buggy.
