She smiled. “Thanks, Murray.”
They walked outside. The sun was just beginning its descent in the early evening sky. Lane drew in a deep breath. “Oh, Callie, it’s great to be free. Liberty is not praised enough.”
She dug in her purse. “I can’t believe you had to go through all that.” Pulling out his car keys, she handed them to him. “It’s sad that you had to suffer because of Chance’s hot temper.”
“I’m glad it happened.”
She stared at him, her eyes wide. “You’re glad you ended up in jail?”
“Sure.” He threw his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the car, and she looped her arm around his waist. “I can get some good book material out of this experience. Maybe I’ll write a book about the history of jails in America.”
“Oh, Lane.” She laughed. “That’s worse than the Gunfights book.”
He grinned as they stopped at the car. “Maybe I could interview every inmate in America who’s been incarcerated on false charges.” He drew his brows together. “You know, all those men who claim to be innocent?”
“There are probably a million of them.” She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy about you.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. The sweet scent of her hair wafted under his nose. “Ah, Callie. I’m so glad God brought you into my life.”
She looked up at him. “Me, too.”
He kissed her lightly before opening the car door for her. In such a short time, God had changed his entire life. But there was one more thing he needed to discuss with Callie.
Chapter 21
Callie sat on the passenger’s seat in Lane’s Mazda, thankful he was once again behind the wheel. They had eaten a good Italian dinner at Mama’s Kitchen in Lusk—since Lane had not been particularly fond of jail food—and lingered at the table, discussing the entire arrest episode and talking about their childhoods. Now they were on their way back to Fort Lob. The sun had slipped below the horizon an hour ago, and the stars were out. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat with a contented sigh.
“You’re not falling asleep, are you?”
She opened her eyes and gazed at him. The dials on the dashboard softly illuminated his face. “I’m just happy with how everything turned out. The Lord is so good.”
“He certainly is.” Lane grinned. “And better things are ahead, Callie. In fact, I want to discuss something with you.”
Her heart leaped in her throat. She wondered how long she would have to wait before Lane proposed marriage. A few days? A few weeks? Or maybe only a few minutes. She gave a happy sigh. It didn’t matter; it was in God’s hands, and He had given her perfect peace about marrying Lane.
“I want to talk about the museum.”
Callie’s heart sank. “The museum?” Was that the better thing ahead? Maybe he wasn’t even thinking about marriage.
He nodded. “I hope you don’t mind if we make it a joint project. I’m really excited about displaying all those artifacts, all that history, to the public.”
“I’d love to work with you, Lane. After all, I kind of … well, I really need … your money.”
Lane threw back his head and laughed. The sound filled the car. “No problem there. Money is no object.”
Callie sighed. “Must be nice when you have plenty of money to do what you want.”
“True, although I’ve never had anything to spend my money on before.” He glanced at her. “I’ve just been saving it and investing some of it. That’s why I can afford to pay for the renovations at the library and build you a new museum building.”
“Wow, that’s so amazing.” She closed her eyes again.
“There’s another thing I want to discuss with you.”
Her eyes flew open. “Yes?”
“Tomorrow I’m going to call Mr. Porterfield.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve been talking to a book agent I met a few years ago. He didn’t know I was writing as Herbert Dreyfuss back then, which is a good thing.”
“Why would that be good?”
“He liked my writing and wanted to represent me when I was a nobody.”
“So you trust him.”
“Right you are, Callie.” He grinned at her. “Along those lines, I have a book idea I’d like to bounce off you.” He grew serious. “I’ve never had anyone I could bounce ideas off before. I usually e-mail Mr. Porterfield and tell him what I want to write for my next book, and he okays it.” Lane looked at her. “If I wanted to write about the history of garbage, he would tell me to go ahead.”
Callie held her nose. “That’s a smelly idea.”
He laughed. “See? I need someone to tell me when my ideas stink.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “So what’s your new book idea?”
“It would be a type of autobiography about Uncle Herb and me, with lots of photos of our family and all the things that happened in my childhood and how I started writing for him.”
“Oh, I like that.”
He nodded. “I’m going to title it The Herbert Dreyfuss Story.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Not The Lane Hutchins Story?”
“I’ll be the author.” He shrugged. “My name is not even recognized in America right now. After this book gets published, I hope it is.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “It will be. I have a feeling you’re going to be a very famous man someday.”
Twenty minutes later, they drove under THE ROCKING B archway and down the long driveway.
Callie spotted Tonya’s car parked beside the house. “Oh good. Mom and Tonya are back from Casper.”
Lane pulled up behind Tonya’s car and parked. “Your mom’s been in Casper all these weeks?”
“Yep.” Callie shrugged. “Grandma can’t get around with a broken hip. Someone has to help her. My aunt is taking over for the next few weeks.”
He pushed the button to roll down the front windows before turning off the ignition. “It’s nice to have such a big family.”
“It is.” She opened the car door, and the inside light came on. “I love this summer weather. Want to sit on the porch and talk?”
“Nope.” He leaned over the console between the two seats and pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want to sit there because we might get interrupted like we did before, and I think we’ve talked enough this evening.” As he said the words, he drew closer until his lips touched hers.
That kiss made Callie’s toes curl in her shoes.
This was where she belonged, right here in Lane’s arms. She hoped he didn’t have a commitment phobia like her brother.
When they parted, he gazed at her in the twilight. “You’ve helped me so much, Callie. I can’t begin to repay you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “But you are repaying me. Remember? The library and the museum?”
“That’s kid stuff. Actually, I can’t imagine my life without you now.”
Callie felt like her heart would burst. “Oh, neither can I, Lane.” A warm breeze blew through the open door, lifting her hair across her face.
Lane brushed it back and drew in a deep breath. “I can’t get on my knees in the car, and I don’t have a ring—but will you marry me, Callie?”
Yes! “Oh, Lane.” Unexpected tears filled her eyes. “I wanted to marry you the first day I met you at the library.”
He lifted his brows. “Really?”
“I know now that I couldn’t marry just anybody who walked in off the street, but God planted that desire for you in my heart.” She gazed into his eyes. “Yes, Lane, I want to marry you.”
He leaned over and kissed her again then lifted his head. “You know, this would be a lot easier if we weren’t sitting in the car.”
She laughed and grabbed his hand. “Come in the house. Mom and Dad think you’re still in jail.” She gave a happy sigh. “We have so much to tell them.”
Epilogue
Oh, Callie!” Agatha Collingsworth stood by the big plate glass window
s of the Beauty Spot and looked out on Elk Road. “It’s snowing, sugar. Ya’ll are gonna have a white wedding.”
“It’s snowing?” Callie swiveled in the beautician’s chair to look outside. “Wow! It’s really coming down. And I can see those snowflakes.”
Tonya pulled a curl from the top of her sister’s head. “Callie, turn back and face the mirror.”
“Sorry.” Callie gazed back at her reflection. Tonya stood behind her, piling her hair on top of her head and pinning it, one curl at a time. “I still can’t believe how well I can see without my glasses.”
Watching Tonya work, Aggie plopped down in the other beautician’s chair. “That was so nice of Lane to give ya that laser eye surgery as a wedding present.”
“Isn’t the Lord good?” Callie gave a wistful sigh. “I always wanted to have laser surgery but never thought it would be a reality.” She frowned. “Now I feel bad. All I gave him for a wedding gift was a tie clasp.”
Aggie cackled out a laugh. “Hon, he could buy himself a hundred tie clasps, but this one was from you. He’ll treasure it always.”
“It’s the thought that counts.” Tonya pinned another curl.
“I guess so.”
Aggie stood, frowning. “Now, sugar, look at your lips. They need some color.” She opened a drawer beneath the mirror. “Here, try this one. Radiant Sunset.”
“But I haven’t even put on my makeup yet.”
“Won’t hurt to test it.” Aggie handed her the lipstick tube.
Callie dutifully opened the tube and painted her lips. Aggie had already given her a free manicure and had applied two coats of Dusty Rose polish to her nails. Now she’s going to work on my face.
Callie looked in the mirror. Her lips were orange. “I don’t think this is my color.”
Tonya’s hands stilled as she glanced at Callie’s reflection. “It’s too orange, Aggie. She needs something lighter and more pink.”
“Looks good to me,” Aggie muttered. She rummaged in the drawer.
“A lot lighter.” Callie sighed under her breath. Aggie was being a little too helpful.
The bell over the door jangled, and all three women turned. A blast of cold air accompanied Cheyenne as she entered the small waiting area.
“Hi, girls!” She removed her coat and shook off the snow. “We were praying for snow for your wedding day, and look how God answered prayer.”
Callie smiled. Her wedding day. She liked the sound of those words.
Cheyenne sat down in the other chair. “Wow, Callie, you are going to be one beautiful bride.”
“Except for her orange lips.” Tonya laughed.
“Here, hon.” Aggie handed Callie a tissue. “Blot that one off and try this.
It’s called Blushing Rose.”
Aggie turned back to the drawer, and Callie rolled her eyes.
Cheyenne grinned. “Are you nervous, girlfriend?”
“Not too much. I still have so much to do before tonight. Mom and I are picking up the cake at three—Alice is making it—and the flowers are supposed to arrive at the church at five.”
“I hope this snow doesn’t turn into a blizzard.” Tonya pulled on Callie’s hair. “That would be terrible if the florist couldn’t get over to the church from Douglas.”
No flowers! “That would be terrible.” Callie sent up a silent prayer for the florist deliveryman.
“It’ll be something to tell your grandchildren someday.” Cheyenne crossed her legs, and her jeans were wet on the bottom edges. “Fifty years ago on December 5, we had a huge blizzard! Why, the snow just swirled and whirled around the florist’s delivery van. We never thought he’d make it.”
Callie groaned. “Save the theatrics, Cheyenne.”
Tonya laughed. “The weather can change fast in Wyoming. Last night it was so clear, even though it was cold.”
“Yeah, cold and clear.” Aggie handed Callie another lipstick tube. “Try this, sugar. Pink Carnation.”
Thinking back to the clear skies last night, Callie couldn’t help but smile as she applied the lipstick. When Lane had kissed her good night, he said, “This is the last night I’m going to leave you.” Tonight they planned to spend their wedding night in a fancy hotel in Douglas. In a few days, they would drive to Yellowstone National Park for their honeymoon. Lane had rented a cozy cabin for them, and Callie couldn’t wait.
Aggie peered at her. “That’s your color, sugar.” She grinned. “You’ll be a beautiful bride, hon, just like Cheyenne said.”
Tonya sighed. “I wish I was getting married. You’re so lucky, Callie.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it.” Callie met her sister’s eyes in the mirror. “God brought us together.”
“Now Tonya …” Aggie cackled. “Don’t you worry none. God will bring your man along soon enough.”
Cheyenne folded her arms. “At least you have guys who ask you out, Tonya. Look at me.” She stood. “Almost six feet tall and pudgy all over. Who would want to date an Amazon?”
“Don’t say that, Chey.” Callie bit her lip, wishing she could wipe the lipstick off. “We’re still praying about you and Derek.”
Cheyenne took her seat. “I’ve given up on Derek.”
“What?” In unison, Callie and Tonya stared at her.
“It’s impossible. He’s never going to marry me.”
“Yes, he is.” Callie glanced back at her reflection. “If God could give me Lane, He can give you Derek. You need to have faith.” She smiled. “Besides, I’ve always wanted you to be my sister-in-law.”
“All finished.” Tonya twirled Callie’s chair around so she faced Cheyenne and Aggie. “What do you think?”
“Cool ‘do.” Cheyenne smiled. “You did a great job, Tonya. I wish I could fix hair like that.”
Aggie frowned, tapping a lipstick tube against her double chin. “That color is still not right.” She thrust the tube under Callie’s nose. “Try this one. Light Fuchsia.”
At exactly seven o’clock that evening, Lane followed Pastor Reilly from a side room to the front of the church auditorium. Derek and his brother, Ryan, plus two cousins whom Lane had just met yesterday, followed behind him.
The men stood at the front of the church, waiting. The strains of the organ played in the background, but Lane barely heard the music. The church was filled with hundreds of lit candles—the only light in the room—and an abundance of red and white roses surrounded the altar. A few stragglers were seated in the back row of the packed auditorium.
Lane looked over the congregation. There was Vern Snyder and his wife. The man was actually civil now, but Lane was still surprised he had come. It was probably one of those situations where the Snyders were friends of the Brandt family and had been for years. Weddings and funerals seemed to draw people together, especially in small towns.
Near the front, Lane spotted Lucille Penwell. She had awoken from her comatose state five days after the shooting and made a rapid recovery. While she was still in the hospital, Callie talked to her several times about her eternal destiny, and Miss Penwell accepted Christ as her Savior. God had totally changed that woman. Now she actually liked Lane.
Bruce MacKinnon sat a few rows behind Miss Penwell, and Lane couldn’t stop the rush of gratitude that flowed through him. In the last three months, Bruce had convinced the town council to give Lane and Callie ten acres of property on the outskirts of Fort Lob for the museum. They also voted—unanimously—to donate everything from the library’s third floor. Plans were on the drawing board for the building. Lane planned to supervise the construction, and he had already purchased a house in town on Little Deer Road for himself and his bride. They had spent the past three weeks buying furniture, and Callie had a blast decorating the house.
As far as telling the world that he was Herbert Dreyfuss, Lane finally confessed it in his newspaper column a month ago. He had given his e-mail address and had been flooded with thousands of letters supporting him. God had worked everything out for good.
Lane pulled his wandering thoughts back to his wedding and glanced down at the front row. Yvette Brandt, his future mother-in-law, sat by an empty space reserved for Jake. Callie’s grandmother, healed from her broken hip, sat beside Yvette. A host of relatives filled the first seven pews, and Lane was still trying to keep everyone straight.
Yvette caught his eye and gave a little wave. Lane smiled back. He finally belonged to a family.
The organ music changed, and Melissa, Callie’s oldest sister, started down the aisle. The audience turned in their pews, craning their necks to watch her. She wore a deep-red velvet dress with a white fur collar and carried a small bouquet of red and white roses.
Lane watched Melissa ascend the platform, then he turned to wait for Molly, her twin. He thought the twins looked just like their dad, Jake. Callie and Tonya looked more like their mom, and of course, Callie was the most beautiful of the sisters.
She’s the most beautiful woman in this church—no, in the world.
Cheyenne walked down the aisle next, and she winked at Lane as she ascended the steps. He grinned, knowing that Cheyenne had wanted him to marry Callie from the beginning.
Tonya, the maid of honor, followed Cheyenne down the aisle. Then the music changed to “Here Comes the Bride.” Lane didn’t recognize any of the other music, but he knew that song. He could see Callie and her dad standing at the entrance of the auditorium. She looked beautiful in her white bridal gown, which Lane had helped her pick out. Even now he remembered how bored he was, waiting for Callie to pop out of the dressing room in yet another wedding gown. As far as he was concerned, she could have worn a gunnysack and she would be beautiful. But now he gazed at her, drinking in her beauty in yards of white satin with a shiny tiara nestled in her hair.
Callie’s eyes met his—those beautiful eyes, unshackled from her glasses. In a few minutes, she and her dad were at the front, and Jake was giving his daughter away—to him.
Lane drew a deep breath, hardly able to believe this was happening. He was getting married!
Callie stood beside Lane, pledging her life to him. Her flowers quivered a little, and she hoped she wouldn’t cry. She had dreamed of this day for years but didn’t think it would ever happen. She always figured she would end up like Miss Penwell, still single in her seventies, working in the library.
Tumbleweed Weddings Page 15
