Brides of Texas

by Hake, Cathy Marie

  “I don’t know if I can get up if I kneel down.”

  Duncan glanced at her middle and silently agreed. “It won’t matter. God is delighted to have you just as you are.”

  “Like that church song last Sunday?”

  “Aye. ‘Just as I Am.’ ”

  “At church, folks have to get down on their knees.”

  She wasn’t being quarrelsome. Duncan saw the sincerity in her eyes. She wanted to do this correctly. It mattered to her. “Since we’ll be praying together, why don’t you sit there, and I’ll kneel.”

  Carmen heard the low hum of conversation and limped around the clothesline. The breath froze in her lungs. Jenny sat on the garden bench, and Duncan knelt at her side.

  I knew it. I knew he had tender feelings for her. Rob married Mercy and—

  “Carmen!” Joy brightened Jenny’s voice.

  Duncan rose. “Carmen, we have the most wonderful news.”

  “Do you?” Her voice sounded strained.

  Jenny beckoned her over. “Duncan just asked me if—” her voice broke.

  “Jenny’s decided to ask Christ into her heart.”

  “Jenny!” Carmen hurried over. Every step made her repent for the jealousy she’d felt.

  “You can help me pray, too. I want to do it right.”

  “Nothing would make me happier than to share this moment with you.”

  Duncan motioned to her. “Why don’t you sit next to Jenny?”

  Carmen sat down and embraced Jenny.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Jenny confessed. “Am I supposed to fold my hands, or are we supposed to hold hands together?”

  “Either way is fine,” Duncan said. “What would you like?”

  Jenny thought about it for a minute. “I think I’ll fold my hands. I’m afraid if I hold your hands, I might crush them.”

  Duncan knelt again. He reached out and held on to the wrought iron arms of the bench, and the action gave a special sense of intimacy to the moment.

  Jenny bowed her head and whispered, “What do I say?”

  “Prayer is talking to God.” Carmen exchanged a look with Duncan, then asked, “Would you like to have one of us say a prayer, and you repeat the words?”

  “That’s a good idea. I’m afraid I’ll forget something important.”

  “All right, then.” Duncan bowed his head. “Lord Jesus, I’m sorry for my sins.”

  “Lord Jesus,” Jenny repeated, “I’m sorry for all my terrible sins. I’ve done a lot of bad things.”

  Duncan patiently waited. “You died on the cross so I could be forgiven.”

  Jenny echoed the sentence.

  “So I’m asking You to forgive me and come live in my heart. Amen.”

  “God, I’m asking You to please forgive me. Since You’re washing all the bad out of my heart, there’s a lot of room in my heart for You to come live there now. Amen.” Jenny looked up. “I feel so…right. Deep down inside, I feel…good.”

  Carmen squeezed her tightly. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “I’m happy for us all.” The corners of Duncan’s eyes crinkled. “You know, Jenny, now you’re our sister in Christ.”

  Jenny smiled, but just as quickly, her smile faltered. “At least till I leave after I have the baby.”

  “Nae, lass. E’en if we’re parted here on earth, we’ll all be together in heaven.”

  “Absolutely! And after you go, we’ll write to one another.” Carmen emphasized her assertion with a passionate nod. “I’m going to insist on it. How will I ever come to visit you if I don’t know where you are?”

  Jenny’s eyes grew huge. “You’d come visit me?”

  “Yes. I’m inviting myself. I know it’s rude, but you’re my sister, so you’ll ignore my bad manners.”

  As he stood, Duncan chuckled. “Carmen’s a strong-willed woman, Jenny. Once she determines something, there’s no dissuading her. She’ll be sure to visit you. Why don’t the two of you go see Mercy? Jenny can give her the grand news.”

  Mercy cried for joy.

  Though Duncan hadn’t accompanied them to the house, he entered a short time later. Carmen’s breath caught as she recognized the item in his left hand. She’d looked at it a few times over at Leonard’s mercantile. “Jenny, lass, this is for you.” He handed her the beautiful cherry wood presentation box.

  “For me?” Jenny opened the box. “A Bible! My very own Bible?”

  “Aye. Read and reflect on the truths. ’Tis how we walk close to God.”

  He hadn’t dashed out and snapped up the cheapest Bible in the store; he’d parted with money at a time when the nation’s finances were strained. The gesture bespoke a deep affection. Until now, the biblical command not to be unequally yoked kept him from courting Jenny. Now that she’d accepted Christ, there wasn’t anything that would preclude him from making her his wife. He’s not wasting any time at all. I suspected he was sweet on her. This proves it.

  Duncan turned and lowered a hatbox onto the table in front of Carmen. “And this is for you, Carmen.”

  “Ohhh.” She looked at him. “Why?”

  He stared back at her. “Because.”

  Tracing her finger over the velvet ribbon, she whispered, “It’s gorgeous. Elegant.”

  “Open it up.”

  “There’s something inside?”

  He chuckled at her surprise. “Aye, there is.”

  Slowly, she opened the lid and looked inside. The sight before her left her speechless.

  “What is it?” Mercy stood on tiptoe and peered inside.

  “A purse made from an armadillo—just like Mercy’s grandmother had.” Pride rang in Duncan’s tone.

  “Hers is the only other one I’ve ever seen,” Carmen said faintly. It was all she could concoct. The thing was hideous.

  “You didna say exactly how your grandma’s was fashioned, so I did the best I could.”

  Carmen gingerly lifted the leather strap. “Oh, look at this strap. Have you ever seen such intricate tooling?”

  Duncan’s chest puffed out. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Mercy reached over and tentatively touched the odd, half-curled hide. “Carmen, something this rare should be used for very special occasions.”

  Grateful for the way Mercy just gave her an excuse for not having to carry the monstrosity with her all the time, Carmen nodded.

  “Grandma only used hers when she paid calls on sick friends. She kept healing herbs and powders in it.”

  “You go see sick folks all the time.” Jenny reached over and fiddled with the creature’s funny ear.

  Carmen found the urge to shiver. “I’ve always loved traditions. Perhaps this is a way for me to keep the tradition.”

  “I’ve noticed how you treasure your traditions.” Duncan folded his arms across his chest. “No matter where we go or what we become, ’tis always important to remember and honor the past.”

  “Like when you wear your kilt,” Carmen said. From the way he beamed, Carmen knew she’d managed to say the right thing and diverted his attention from the revolting purse. But one of these days, he’ll ask me where it is.

  “Where is she?” Duncan took the seat next to Carmen as some of the parishioners met at the parsonage to discuss church projects.

  Carmen froze for a moment. He hadn’t asked about the armadillo purse yet, but he was looking at her hem—possibly to see if she’d carried it with her here. She looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Did Jenny come along with you?”

  Of course he’d ask about her. Just look at the twinkle in his bachelor button–blue eyes. Well, he won’t be a bachelor much longer. Carmen shoved aside her musings and answered. “No, she’s spending the afternoon with Mercy.”

  Mrs. Kunstler sat on Carmen’s other side. “Mercy—she is a good wife for the doctor. Ismelda told me Mercy helped the doctor when he saw her.”

  Carmen stared at Mrs. Kunstler and strove not to let her shock and hurt show. “Ismelda?”

&nb
sp; “I told her to tell you. Well, now you know.” Mrs. Kunstler twitched an embarrassed smile. “She’s trying to spare your feelings since you’re older and—”

  “You’ll be a wonderful aunt,” Duncan said. “Children flock to you. Ismelda probably wanted to get you alone to share her good news. She’s got a kind heart and wouldn’t want to flaunt her joy in front of Jenny, knowing the lass is going to give up her babe.”

  Carmen summoned a smile and nodded.

  “Maybe so.” Mrs. Kunstler shrugged. “But Jenny—she got herself into this fix.”

  Carmen set aside her own hurt and rushed to defend Jenny. “She’s confessed her sins, and God’s forgiven her.”

  “Aye, and we’ve all fallen short of the mark in some way or another.” Duncan bobbed his head. “Forgiveness is ours for the asking—and I admire Jenny for knowing her babe would be better off with a stable married couple. She’s suffering from the consequences of her past, and yet she’s giving someone else a gift beyond words.”

  “I’ve told the doctor it’s only right that my cousin’s cousin should get the baby.” Mrs. Kunstler rubbed her hands together. “Since Carmen is housing the girl and Ismelda is my daughter-in-law, we’ve kept this within the family.”

  “No.” Carmen shook her head. How could she condemn Jenny and then still claim the baby?

  Duncan patted her hand. “You’re in the right of it, Carmen. The adoptions are secret. Only the doctor knows who gives or receives which babe.”

  “Well, he should give this one to Chester,” Mrs. Kunstler grumbled. “Especially after he kept Mercy’s baby for himself.”

  “My brother,” Duncan said in a low, slow tone that dared anyone to challenge him, “cherishes Mercy. We all do, just as we adore Elspeth. You canna be suggesting he acted out of anything but love when he wed her.”

  “No one would ever say such a thing,” the pastor said.

  Carmen shot the pastor a startled look. She’d been so intent, she’d forgotten where they were.

  “Let’s begin,” the pastor said as he motioned to a handful of people to come take seats. They all complied, and he opened the meeting with a prayer. After that, he smiled. “It’s good to see so many of you here. God must be pleased to see so many of His children eager to serve Him with their talents. I’ve started a list of the needs within our congregation and community. Let’s pour out God’s love upon our church family and neighbors.”

  The first needs the parson brought up seemed so urgent, Carmen quickly volunteered.

  When the parson said the church ought to be painted, Duncan signed up for that task.

  Knowing she couldn’t do that kind of work, Carmen thought ahead. In a few weeks, Jenny would have the baby. In less than two months, she would recover and leave. With loneliness looming, Carmen determined to stay busy. She even mentioned a few families who needed help.

  At one point, Duncan scowled at her.

  She frowned right back. He was a strong, healthy man. He didn’t have a wife and children or a widowed mother to support. Surely he could commit to more than just helping paint the church.

  Unless he wants the church to look fresh in time for him to marry Jenny. When Mrs. Kunstler spoke badly of her, he rushed to her defense. A man with a new wife and a baby wouldn’t have much time for projects. Is that why he doesn’t jump in to do more?

  Chapter 11

  As the meeting broke up, Mrs. Kunstler tugged on Carmen’s sleeve. “When Ismelda tells you about her baby, you act surprised.”

  “Why would I lie?”

  “It’s not lying. You were surprised. She deserves to have the delight of seeing that.”

  “Then you should have held what you knew in confidence.” Carmen shook out her skirts. “When I see Ismelda, she’ll know how thrilled I am for her and Otto.”

  Duncan offered, “I’ll walk you home, Carmen.”

  Thankful for the excuse to leave, Carmen nodded. “I’m ready to go.” Carmen didn’t say anything until they were out of earshot from anyone. “I keep reminding myself that she is a good mother-in-law to Ismelda. That’s all that matters.”

  “ ’Tisna all that matters, but I grant you, I’m glad for Ismelda’s sake ’tis the case.”

  “Jenny’s baby—”

  “Dinna fret o’er the bairn. I can say with every confidence the arrangements will be good.”

  Carmen twitched a wry smile. He might as well just announce that he’s going to claim Jenny and the baby as his own.

  “I’m fit to be tied o’er something else, though.” He stopped.

  “What?” Carmen halted, too.

  “Reading to old Mrs. Lintz. Organizing a meal for after the Warner funeral. Helping sew the quilt for the bazaar. Playing the piano every other week at church. Polishing all the wood inside the church…” He continued as if reciting a litany.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my helping out.”

  Duncan looked as if he’d sucked on a lemon.

  Carmen started walking again. He has no right to dictate how I spend my time.

  Duncan strode alongside her and bellowed out a prolonged sigh for her benefit.

  “Maybe you’re reacting this way because you’re convinced that you’re not doing enough.” She shot him a look. “Painting the church is a good start, but there were other things you could have offered to do, too.”

  “I dinna run off and sign up for every last thing. What I’m to do is go where the Lord calls me. In the future, when He leads me toward other projects, I can put my hand to them then. But until He calls me, I’ll wait.”

  His words nettled her. Her skirts swirled about her as she halted. “Are you saying I don’t?”

  “Come along.” He grabbed her elbow and took a step.

  Carmen jerked away. “I can walk just fine. Don’t treat me like I’m a cripple.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’d help any woman o’er these jagged roots. Ne’er once have I treated you like a cripple. Heed me well, Carmen Rodriguez, a special pair of shoes could even out your walk, but ’tisna the insignificant difference in your stroll that hinders ye. No, ’tisna a-tall. ’Tis your heart.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my heart.”

  “Ooch, lass, there is. Let’s go to your veranda where we can discuss this privately.”

  “No one is eavesdropping here. Say what you have to say.”

  Duncan glanced up and down the street. His brow furrowed, but he gave her a curt nod. “You’ve a sickness in your heart of hearts, and ’tis twisting your spirit. I’ve spoken wi’ you on other occasions, but ye’ve not listened. God doesna need you to do the work of a dozen and find an early grave just to enter the kingdom of heaven. Nae, He doesna, for Christ paid the price.”

  “I know that!”

  “Do you?” He stared at her solemnly. “Then all these works you take on—what is the purpose?”

  “To help others.”

  He wagged his head from side to side and let out a profound sigh. “You’re a bonny lass, Carmen Rodriguez. Aye, you are—not only on the outside, but in your heart, as well.”

  She stared at him. No man had ever complimented her, yet this wasn’t exactly a compliment.

  “Anyone who needs you to do labor on their behalf ought to be thankful for all you do. Nevertheless, their caring for you ought ne’er be based on what chore you accomplished but on the fact that you’re a fine woman.”

  Though tempted to respond, Carmen held her tongue.

  Duncan seemed more than intent on speaking his piece. “You dinna hae to earn your way into the hearts of others by exhausting yourself. And if you dinna think that’s what you’re doing, then you need to wonder why ’tis so important for you to fill every last waking hour with rushing about. ’Tis in stillness that we calm our hearts and commune with the Almighty.”

  “You heard the sermon last Sunday, about the gifts God gives and expects us to exercise. The gift of helps—that’s mine. I’m being a faithful follower to go forth and help others.”r />
  “I agree ’tis your gift.”

  “Then there’s no problem.”

  He gave her a long, intent look. “Your gift is not to be a burden that strains your every waking moment. I’m concerned.”

  “Over nothing.” When he’d looked at her, he’d ended at her hem—and it all came back to the same thing. He considered her feeble.

  “Carmen, you’ve gotten so caught up in staying busy on the account of others that you’ve forgotten to listen for the Lord to direct your efforts.”

  “I don’t need thunder to shake the heavens to direct me where the needs are. God gave me eyes to see them and ears to hear the pastor and others mention how someone requires help.”

  “Those people can be His messengers—but had you considered that others present are meant to assume some of those responsibilities?”

  “The Lord loves a cheerful giver.”

  “Aye, He does. But I dinna recall e’er reading in His Word that He loves a frantic giver.”

  “Frantic!”

  Duncan nodded. “Pray, Carmen. You’re so caught up in deeds that you’re losing sight of the One to whom you’re devoted.”

  Carmen reared back. “Did it ever occur to you that some of us wouldn’t have to do so much if others of you would step up and do your share?” She didn’t wait for his reaction. Carmen lifted her skirt and hastened over the tangled roots as fast as her crooked leg would allow.

  Duncan reached over and buffed the toe of a boot. He used buttery soft kidskin and created a pair that would yield ultimate comfort. Though he’d never once heard Carmen complain, Duncan knew her feet and legs had to bother her after she exerted herself. An elastic gusset would make it quicker for Carmen to pull on the boots, but Duncan opted to make the ankle-top boots lace up. They’d give more support.

  At first glance, someone might think one boot was propped up on a small block, but it wasn’t. Fashionable women’s footwear featured heels that narrowed down to a three-quarter-inch circle. Both heels on this custom-made pair measured an inch in diameter, but he’d added a full inch in height to the sole and heel on the left and subtracted half an inch from the heel on the right. The net result was a pair of shoes that would compensate for the difference Carmen’s twisted limb caused. Aye, she’d be able to walk more smoothly and even leave a footprint that wouldn’t tattle on the compensations.