by Morgan, Kit
“Mercy!” her husband boomed again. “Where’s my speech?”
“Oh, dear!” she said and began to dig through her reticule. “Here it is!” she said, relief in her voice. She handed him a folded piece of paper and quickly scanned the area for Mrs. Brock’s hat.
“Aren’t you coming?” he asked as he stood and prepared to leave the wagon.
“Oh, ah, of course,” she said, her eyes still darting back and forth.
He studied her with one eyebrow raised, but said nothing. Soon they were out of the wagon and seated on a small stage set up for the occasion. It took awhile for the town’s people to gather around, but once done, Mr. Vander stood up and got right to it.
“Citizens of Independence!” he began with a flourish and raised both hands in the air.
Mercy, still seated, peeked around her husband. “Where is that darn hat?” she muttered.
“It is with great pride that we gather here today to celebrate our freedom!”
A cheer went up, followed by several folks laughing as they pointed at the stage. Mr. Vander looked around, until his eyes landed on his wife. Mercy had crept to his side, and, shading her eyes, was peeking out over the crowd from beneath his armpit.
“Mercy!” he hissed. “What are you doing?”
“Oh,” she said as she looked up at him. “Nothing, dear.”
He shook his head in annoyance and, ignoring his wife’s antics, continued his speech.
* * *
Winnie laughed at the mayor’s wife along with Luke, as they watched her slink back to her seat behind him. “What was that about?” she asked.
“I don’t know; and I’m not sure I want to find out.”
“Maybe she’s looking for Mrs. Smythe and Mrs. Tindle. They’re the best of friends, you know.”
He inched his body closer and looked down into her eyes. “Are they now?”
She could feel the heat coming off him, and swallowed hard. “Yes, very much.”
He took another step. “And they don’t believe all those rumors Mrs. Brock started, do they?”
She shook her head, unable to speak, her knees growing weaker by the second.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’d hate to think they fell for them.” He glanced around. “By the way, where is Mrs. Brock? I want to make sure she doesn’t take the stage when Mayor Vander is done with his speech.”
“What? You mean …”
He nodded. “I never got the chance to tell her she couldn’t make one. No time for it. We’ve got to move onto the games right after the mayor is through.”
Winnie glanced around. It gave her a chance to collect herself. “I haven’t seen Mrs. Brock since the parade.”
“Neither have I, but you can’t miss her. Did you see the hat she was wearing?”
Winnie giggled. “Yes, I did. It was monstrous!”
Luke stared down at here. “I … Winnie … I know my actions yesterday may have come as a shock …”
She shook her head. “No, don’t. Let’s not go through this again.”
“You know I meant it when I said I’d court you, how can I not? Good grief, if Mrs. Brock had seen us, she’d have had us before a preacher last night!”
Winnie looked away as Mrs. Brock’s threats of running her out of town came flooding back. “No; I think she might have done something more drastic.”
He took her hand. “She’ll do nothing unless we let her. That type of person always does. Once they know they can’t bully you, they leave you alone.”
“How do you know?”
“I had to deal with a lot of folks like that in Chicago. Men mostly, but she’s no different. She just wears a bigger hat.”
Winnie giggled again, and sighed against him. Catching herself, she stepped away lest anyone think her improper.
He closed the distance between them. “Don’t go; stay next to me.”
“But, it’s hardly …”
“Proper? On the contrary; if we’re to be married, I see nothing wrong with standing close to each other. For Heaven’s sake, we’re not even holding hands.”
“What did you say?”
“I said we’re not even holding hands.”
“Be,be,be,be …oh blast!” She sucked in some air. “Before that.”
He smiled. “You’re beautiful when you stutter.”
She blushed, and looked away.
He tucked a finger under her chin, and brought her around to face him. “Ohhhh; are you asking what I said before the part about holding hands?”
She glared at him through her smile.
He smiled back, that same devilish smile she’d seen before. Without warning, he took both of her hands in his, and got down on one knee.
Winnie gasped, as did several people who were standing nearby. They turned away from the mayor’s booming voice, and watched.
“Winnie Longfellow, you’d make me the happiest man …”
“Quiet!” someone yelled behind him.
Luke turned and arched his brows at the man. It was Mr. Smythe. “Do you mind? I’m trying to propose.”
“I can see that; which is why I’m yelling at the mayor to be quiet. I want to hear this!”
A hush settled over the crowd as the mayor droned on, but soon he noticed that he no longer had everyone’s attention. It had become focused on something going on in the back of the crowd.
A soft murmur rippled its way through the throng of people to the stage, and reached a man standing next to it. He smiled, looked up at the mayor, and winked.
“What’s going on? Is someone hurt?” Mayor Vander asked with concern.
“No, sir; Pastor Luke is proposing!”
“WHAT?” The mayor jumped off the stage and began to make his way through the crowd. Mercy popped up from her seat and, with a squeal of delight, hurried to follow. By the time they reached the focus of everyone’s attention, Winnie was blushing a furious red.
“What’s going on here?” Mayor Vander boomed.
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Mr. Smythe.
“Oh, ah, quite,” the mayor agreed as he stared at the couple.
Luke turned to him. “I didn’t mean for this to interrupt your speech.”
Mayor Vander scratched his chin. “Yes, well …” He glanced out over the crowd, and then gave his attention back to Luke. “Well, don’t just kneel there and not say anything! Get on with it!”
“Yes, sir, Your Honor!” Luke turned, and looked up at Winnie who, by now, had tears in her eyes. “As I was saying; Miss Longfellow … Winnie, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Winnie’s knees gave out, and she began to collapse to the ground, but not before Luke sprang to his feet and caught her. He stood her up and, without relinquishing his hold, looked deep into her eyes. “Well? What do you say?”
She burst into tears. “Yes!”
“Wait a minute!” Someone called from the crowd. It was Mrs. Caulder. “I thought you were courting Eva Brock!”
“No, ma’am,” Luke told her. “I was never courting Eva Brock.”
“But you can’t just up and propose to someone you hardly know; why, it’s indecent!”
“Well, the thing of it is, Mrs. Caulder, Miss Longfellow here just happens to be my mail-order bride.”
The crowd, as one, gasped.
But that was nothing. Mercy Vander let out a high-pitched squeak, and fainted.
“Mercy!” the mayor cried as she slumped to the ground.
Mr. and Mrs. Tindle then came on the scene. “Good heavens!” Mrs. Tindle cried.
Luke looked at the mayor as he fanned his wife’s face, then at the crowd. “It seems my announcement is causing a stir.”
Winnie put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. Before she could say a word, Maude pushed her way into their midst, followed by the Vanders’ maid. “Mercy!”
Betsy took one look at all of them and smiled. “Merrrrrcy!” she laughed, turned on her heel, stepped back into the crowd, and disappeared out of sight.
Mercy Vander’s eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”
“You done swooned!” said Maude with glee. “I tell you, this is so exciting!”
“Since when is my wife fainting exciting?” asked Mr. Vander.
“Not that! Pastor Luke asking his mail-order bride to be his wife!”
Mr. Vander gave her a bemused look. “How would you know she’s a mail-order bride? You just got here.”
Maude and Martha exchanged a quick look. “Ahhh … well …”
“Because they’re the ones who sent for her,” Luke said as he stood.
“WHAT?” boomed Mr. Vander. Mrs. Vander moaned, swooned again, and landed on the ground with a small thud. Mr. Vander, too exasperated and busy staring at Luke and Winnie, didn’t even notice. Martha quickly knelt at her side and took up the fanning. “Are you saying my wife got you a mail-order bride?”
“And mine,” added Mr. Smythe.
Maude turned pale, paler, and once she got to palest, joined Mercy on the ground in a heap. Martha waved her hands faster. Oh no, oh no, oh no!
Mr. Tindle stepped to where the bodies lay. “Well?” he asked his wife as she furiously fanned away. “Are you going to join them?”
Martha looked up at her husband. “How … how did you know?”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” he said and turned to Winnie and Luke. “Was it Pastor?”
Luke shook his head, a huge smile on his face. He pulled Winnie closer. “No, it wasn’t. She would have had to stay with someone, and you three were exceptionally accommodating.”
“Oh,” Martha said in defeat. “But … but what would have happened if you found out she was your mail-order bride when she first got here?”
“Luke laughed. “My dear Mrs. Tindle, of that I have no idea. All I know is that you did me the biggest favor I could ask, and have also given me something I didn’t realize I needed. Thank you.”
Martha’s jaw went slack. “You mean … you’re not upset with us?”
“How can I be upset with you? You’ve brought me a beautiful bride!”
A cheer went up from the townspeople, and some began to slap Luke on the back to congratulate him. “I knew all that talk of Mrs. Brock’s was just gossip and rumors,” called out Mrs. Gelsinger.
Mercy and Maude began to come around, and Martha stopped her fanning. Their husbands helped them to their feet, and brushed grass from their skirts. More laughter erupted at the bewildered looks on their faces, as Mr. Tindle helped Martha to her feet. The three women stared at their husbands. “Well, now; that turned out well,” said Mrs. Vander in a small voice. Mr. Vander glared down at her.
“Yes; didn’t it, though?” added Maude.
“You have to admit,” Martha said as she stared at her husband. “It would be a lot worse to have to listen to Mrs. Brock talk her way through the rest of summer and into harvest time about Eva courting Pastor Luke.”
Mr. Tindle shook his head, smiled, and then took his wife in his arms. “You’re a handful, my dear. But I still love you.”
She smiled in relief, and looked at her counterparts, who still stood, looking very tense.
“You mean to tell me, you three are the cause of this man’s happiness?” Mr. Smythe attempted to scold.
Maude gave him a hint of a smile, and nodded. “Guilty.”
Mr. Smythe laughed. “You silly woman! I would have agreed; it was a fine idea! Wish I’d thought of it!” She sighed in relief and stepped in to his arms.
Mercy stood, her head low, and took a step back. “Oh, no, you don’t!” boomed Mr. Vander. “You’re going to come here and get what’s coming to you!”
She looked up at him, and audibly gulped. “Now Horace, remember what the doctor said!”
“Doctor! I’m remembering what the preacher who married us said! I vowed to love you in sickness and in health, but I’m still trying to recall the part where he said I had to love you whenever you cooked up some crazy scheme!”
She looked at him, a shy smile on her face. “You forgive me?”
“Of course; how can I argue with love? Though, I never did get to the best part of my speech!” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “I figured if I talked long enough, Mrs. Brock wouldn’t take the stage like she did last year.”
Mercy, Martha, and Maude giggled.
“Hey, wait a minute,” said Luke as he looked around, his eyes finally landing on Winnie. “Where is Mrs. Brock?”
She, too, glanced over the crowd. “I don’t know.”
* * *
“The nerve! Why, I’ve never been so humiliated!” Mrs. Brock shouted.
Eva sat behind the pastor’s desk and sighed. “It’s no one’s fault, Mother. I closed the door, but how was I supposed to know it would lock?”
“You should have known! Even now, I can hear …” she snapped her mouth shut. “Oh, no! This is worse than I thought! I don’t hear anything! Mayor Vander must be done with his speech!”
“The mayor was done with his speech over an hour ago,” Eva commented flatly.
“Well, the very idea!” She went to the door leading outside, and banged on it for the thousandth time. “Let us out! How dare anyone lock us in here!”
“Mother, nobody out there locked us in! I told you, I closed the door and it just… locked!”
Mrs. Brock spun to the door on the opposite side of the room, the one leading into the sanctuary, and looked about to charge at it like an angry bull, when the distinct sound of a key being inserted caught her attention. There was a decisive click, and the door opened. “Merrrrrcy! Why Mrs. Brock, Miss Brock, whatever are you two doing in here?” Betsy drawled.
“This idiot locked us in!” Mrs. Brock screeched as she indicated her daughter with a toss of her head. Her hat slid off to one side from the action, and several huge feathers came loose and floated to the floor.
Betsy expelled an exaggerated gasp. “Why, you mean to tell me you’ve been locked up in here all this time? That’s terrible!”
“It certainly is!” Mrs. Brock huffed as she made to shove past.
“Yes, ma’am. You done missed it. Pastor Luke proposed to Miss Longfellow.”
Mrs. Brock stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to Betsy, murder in her eyes, before she aimed it at her daughter. “See what you did? You ruined it! See if I ever try to help you land a man again! You’re hopeless! HOPELESS!” She spun on her heel, and stomped from the room.
Eva let out a weary sigh. “Well, I’m glad that’s over.”
“Mmmhmm,” added Betsy. “Your nerves must be made of iron, child. There’s no way I could have stood being locked in here with that woman. No, sir.”
Eva got out of the chair she occupied, and came around the desk. “That’s the difference between you and me, Betsy. I’ve had a lot of practice.” She reached into her reticule, pulled out a key, and handed it to her. “Here, you’ll need this to unlock the other door.”
Betsy smiled. “Mmm hmm, I’ll do that. If you hurry, you’ll catch the pie-eating contest.”
Eva smiled and glanced at Betsy over one shoulder. “So tell me, was my sacrifice worth it?”
“Oh, yes; it certainly was. “Pastor Luke and Miss Longfellow will be married just as soon as they can find a preacher.”
Eva took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m so glad. She’s going to make a wonderful pastor’s wife.”
“What about you, Miss Brock? Don’t you fancy getting married one day?”
Eva turned to look at her. “To whom? All the men around here are terrified of my mother.”
“Who says it has to be to a man from around here?”
“What are you saying?”
“I done helped get Miss Longfellow out here, maybe I can help you get … somewhere.”
Eva smiled. “Do tell!”
Betsy smiled. “Mmmhmm.”
The End
About the Author :
Kit Morgan, aka Geralyn Beauchamp, has been writing for fun all her life. W
hen writing as Kit Morgan , her books are whimsical, fun, inspirational , sweet stories that depict a strong sense of family and community. When writing as Geralyn Beauchamp, her books are epic, adventurous, romantic fantasy at its very best.
Love in Independence is the sixth installment of the Holiday Mail Mail- Order Bride Series. Be looking for the seventh installment, Love at Harvest Moon, which is coming in August!
