by Linda Ford
Could she hope that meant he regretted his choice?
Harrison came in and joined the conversation.
Birdie excused herself, took her drawing things, and escaped to the river. She could not sit there with the others and pretend life was the same as always. She sat on a rock and pulled out the picture she’d been working on, the one of Clay looking thoughtfully at the water. Seeing him again made her know how she wanted to finish it and took a pencil to draw in the letters. She’d finish them with ink when she went home.
She traced her finger over the shape of Clay. He’d posed in such a way his face was hidden by his hat but she could easily draw his face from memory. Perhaps she’d do that later.
Tears stung her eyes. Perhaps the words would call to another person, be used to heal some other relationship.
“Birdie?” Clay’s voice came from behind her.
“Hi.”
He sat beside her on the rocks.
“I made this for you. It isn’t quite finished. I’ll do another and send it in for a postcard, but I want you to have this one.” She handed it to him.
He studied the drawing of himself. The words read Missing You. Would he understand her desperate plea?
“I like it. I’ll hang it next to the other picture.”
On the wall of a distant cabin?
“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” he said. “In fact, there isn’t much else to do but think.”
She waited.
“I’m a dangerous man to know.”
She chuckled. “Dangerous to my peace of mind.”
He shifted to look at her. “You saw how young bucks want to challenge me. I have to either hide or be ready for them.”
“Or you could take each day as it comes. A person can’t anticipate every danger. You said there is always evil. But there is always good too. Seems one might as well enjoy the good rather than wait for the bad.”
He tipped his head to one side. “But what happens when the bad comes?”
She leaned closer to make certain he understood every word she said. “I will not live in fear any more than I will live in bitterness.”
He ducked his head. “I understand, and I don’t blame you.” He tapped the picture. “Thanks for this.” He started to his feet.
He’d misunderstood. She grabbed his hand. “Sit down and hear what I have to say.”
Too startled to argue, he sat.
“Do you really think I am afraid to face a future with you?”
When his eyes flashed she knew he understood her meaning.
“Do I see you as afraid of challenges? Let’s see. You wanted to put out the prairie fire by yourself.”
“You mean you wouldn’t have helped me?” She pretended shock.
“You probably didn’t need my help.” His smile spoke approval, and her heart began a slow dance.
“You certainly didn’t look afraid when Stu held a gun to your head.”
“I was horribly angry but not afraid.”
He nodded. “A fearless woman. But are you sure you want to face the possibility of encountering such things repeatedly.”
She held his gaze with fierce eyes. “It sure beats being sad and lonely.”
His fingers caught hers. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that.”
“Then I suggest you do something about it.”
“You mean like this?” He pulled her to her feet and circled his arms around her.
“That’s a fair start.” She tipped her head back to look into his dear face. “But only a start.”
“Birdie, are you sure?”
Tired of waiting, tired of teasing, she caught him around the neck and pulled his head down. She pressed her lips to his. At first, he was too surprised to react, and then his arms tightened. His hat tumbled to the ground, but he ignored it and he showed her what a fine kiss he could give.
She broke free. “Does that convince you how sure I am?”
“Yup. No. Wait a minute. I might still have a little doubt.”
She laughed, and they kissed again. Finally she pulled away and broke from his arms. This was all fine and good, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what she truly needed.
He caught her hand and pulled her back. “You better let me finish. Birdie Howe, I love you with my whole heart. If you’re willing to face the dangers of having me, will you marry me?”
Laughing, she threw her arms about him. “Clay Fisher, of course I’ll marry you. Your love is the gold of my heart, forever.”
“We might not have forever.”
She knew a little doubt lingered in his mind. “Whatever time we have is in God’s hands, and I’m willing to trust Him with it.”
“Then I am too.”
Epilogue
“I still think you should get married in the church,” Megan said.
Harrison shook his head. “I prefer to get married in our home.” He turned to Birdie. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Okay? No, I’m ecstatic. Now let’s get it done.”
Brother and sister grinned at each other. Birdie couldn’t think of anything to give her more satisfaction than to see her brother and Helen married the same day as she and Clay wed. “Just think. We can share our anniversaries.”
Harrison hugged her. “God has given us both a lot of joy. Now let’s go.” He held out his elbow, and she placed her hand on his arm. He signaled a cowboy, who played a violin and filled the air with sweet music.
Harrison guided her around one side of the house. Around the other side, Clay led his aunt. They met before the verandah steps, and each man handed his escort to her husband-to-be. The four of them faced the preacher, who’d come out from town. He spoke a few words of exhortation then had them repeat their vows and sign the official papers.
He introduced each new couple to the gathered witnesses. “Mr. and Mrs. Clay Fisher. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison Howe.”
A few townsfolk were present, Morris and his family among them. The cowboys were all dressed in their finest, and a bunch of neighbors had come to help celebrate. A bountiful lunch was served outside on long plank tables. Birdie and Clay. They visited with their guests. They listened to more music. Finally, Clay signaled Birdie.
“Are you ready to go?” He indicated the wagon.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harrison asked for the hundredth time or more. Birdie wanted to spend the rest of the summer in the line shack with Clay. Just the two of them.
“We’ll have a cabin ready for you next Angus and Cosette’s by fall,” Harrison reminded her.
“That’s soon enough for me,” she said.
Clay had warned her the drive across the prairie would be rough. She said she could ride horseback, but he wasn’t in favor of that either.
“I don’t mind so long as we get there.”
Clay helped her to the seat, and amidst well wishes from the assembled friends and neighbors, they drove away.
They reached the cabin in less time than Birdie had expected.
Clay jumped down and raced around to lift her from the wagon. He carried her into the cabin and right to the bed, which was covered in a bright quilt.
“Cosette and Helen made it in secret,” he said at her surprised look. She glanced around the cabin and gasped. Many of her pictures covered the walls, plus a collection of postcards featuring her work and half a dozen mason jars holding branches of wild roses, their fragrance filling the air.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
He pulled her to her feet. “Nothing is more beautiful than my bride and the love we share. I praise God that I found you.”
“I thank Him that He brought us both to this day.”
They kissed. The aroma of roses faded in comparison to the sweetness of their love.
Copyright © 2017 by Linda Ford
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