Bossy Bridegroom

by Mary Connealy

  “I’m starving, Dad.” Cody or Colt, Jeanie could never tell them apart, tugged on Wyatt’s arm.

  “So if we could get a few people to maybe open up their homes, like a bed and breakfast, just for the weekend—”

  “Well, I don’t know about that.” The mayor shrugged off his suit coat. “I mean, strangers in your house? Not too many folks will want that.”

  “Jeanie and I just bought a house. We’ve moved in, and we’ve only got a few pieces of furniture. But it’s a neat old place. We could furnish a few more bedrooms, even move back to her apartment for the weekend.”

  “We’ve got to go, Buff. The kids are starving.” Wyatt came over, Audra in one arm, both twins nagging that they were starving.

  Buffy shook her head in defeat. “Okay.” She glared at Michael, who glanced up and caught the look. The mayor was talking to Pastor Bert.

  “We’ll talk later, Buffy. I promise.” Michael jerked his head at Sally as if that was what prevented him from saying more.

  Buffy’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t lost on Jeanie, nor Buffy, that Michael could easily promise to sign Buffy’s papers without Sally understanding.

  “I promise right back.” Buffy made it a threat as she laid her hand on Sally’s shoulder. “Let’s go, honey. Mommy’s got dinner in the oven, and the boys are starving.”

  “I’ve been thinking I might put up some A-frame buildings. Something really simple. A row of ten maybe. I could build them myself. There’s a nice spot along Cold Creek right on the edge of town. I think it’s part of the city’s right-of-way, so the town council would have to approve it or sell it to me or whatever. And we could rent them out. I might be able to get a couple up by Memorial Day.”

  Jeanie stood watching Sally be driven away in a cloud of dust.

  Watching Michael wheel and deal.

  Watching her life slip completely out of her control.

  And the worst part of Michael being back was Jeanie didn’t want to be in control. She wanted to take orders and be obedient. It was easy and wrong. God didn’t want her to give the reins of her life over to anyone but Him.

  She stared at the group of movers and shakers, the biggest one of all in the very center of the action. Yes, the Peaceful Mountain Church was in the country. Yes, it was a five-mile walk home up and down a mountain pass and along a narrow country highway. Yes, she’d ridden here in Michael’s new pickup. None of that mattered.

  She needed to get out of here. He’d come for her before she got home. A new home she’d been moved into with precious little consultation. He’d pick her up whenever he came. It would be all too soon.

  She wondered if Pastor Bert would allow her to bring her bat to church.

  eleven

  The Memorial Day celebration got way out of hand for a normal human being.

  Jeanie had never accused Michael of being normal.

  Shaking her head, she watched her husband plot and plan with the city fathers about making it a real tourist event.

  The media was involved.

  Cold Creek was buzzing.

  Michael was in his element. He bought what looked to everyone else in the world like wasteland along the steep banks of Cold Creek. Michael’s sharp eyes saw a gold mine. He was single-handedly building a motel. A row of simple, rustic A-frames with roofs slanting all the way to the ground. He did the planning, the buying, the bulldozing, the sawing, and the nailing himself.

  Except Jeanie knew him too well. He didn’t do it himself. He just started it alone. Before the end of the first day, everyone in town was helping.

  Jeanie remembered the story “Stone Soup.” Michael started out with a stone and a dream, and everyone else threw in.

  Two retired plumbers offered to help. The proud owner of a bulldozer had been bulldozed into volunteering his time and machine. The women were sewing curtains, the businesses were donating material, and the excitement only grew as Michael announced, one by one, that the little cabins were rented out … before they were built.

  “You want me to what?” Jeanie had taken two weeks off from the nursing home and her other part-time jobs to help with the project. Some of the other nurse’s aides put in longer hours to cover for her.

  “Open a restaurant. The old gas station would make a great café and gift shop. I bought it this morning for just a few hundred dollars.”

  The decrepit stone building so close at hand had been abandoned for years. But as Michael did that magical thing with words and the force of his will, Jeanie completely saw his vision.

  “We could clean it out in a few days. We can’t bring it up to specs for a restaurant in time, but we could have food catered in. I’ve already mentioned it to Glynna Harder. You know what a great cook she is. We could offer sandwiches and soup and a few other things. All we need is a clean building and tables. I’ve already asked around town and found a few people who have tables in their garages and basements that they’d like to get rid of. And the used junk store has several they’ll sell us cheap.”

  Jeanie went to work and found herself with a lot of help. The women of Cold Creek had been itching to get more involved, and the heavy work of the construction was beyond most of them.

  The week ticked away, and Jeanie found herself too busy during the day and too tired at night to spend any time on her marriage or to pin Michael down about Sally’s adoption papers. She didn’t even have the energy to bat him.

  They dragged home hours after dark and were up before the sun. Michael had ordered two sets of bedroom furniture and had it delivered. Jeanie slept in one corner of the huge upstairs, and Michael slept three rooms down and across the hall. He hadn’t even tried to weasel his way into Jeanie’s room.

  He’d turned one downstairs room into an office with phone lines, a computer, Internet access, and a desk and filing cabinet. Another phone call. The man had no time to browse; he just phoned, ordered top of the line, and had it delivered and installed.

  Jeanie still worked at Golden Days Senior Center through the morning, and Pastor Bert came into the center early, as he had that first day, and met with them weekly. A lot of Jeanie’s volunteer work was suspended because so many of the people were working with Michael.

  As Memorial Day crept closer, a party atmosphere grew in town until the community of Cold Creek became as close as family.

  Michael had set out to build ten cabins, hoping to have three or four done in two weeks. He finished all ten. They were livable, and they’d all been rented. Michael had plans for ten more by the Fourth of July.

  The gas station had become Jeanie’s Café and was clean and shining inside. The mismatched tables and chairs were charming. The dinnerware was foraged from several auctions and junk stores in the area, and it lent the place a homey atmosphere. There was a lot more she could do with it, but it was useable for this one weekend.

  When they finished for the night on the Thursday before the big weekend, Michael slung his arm around Jeanie, and they walked home, exhausted as usual. When they pushed their way through the sticking door of their new house, Michael smiled at her. “I’ve got all those buildings up, and I haven’t done a thing to make this house more livable. ‘The cobbler’s children have no shoes.’ Isn’t that the saying?”

  Jeanie smiled back. “It’s okay. I love the work we’re doing.”

  “I’m so proud of all you’ve accomplished with that gas station.” Michael hugged her neck closer as he turned to close the door behind them. He dragged her just a bit, and she giggled and jabbed him in the ribs.

  Flinching and laughing, he turned to her. “I didn’t dare to hope it would look that good this fast.”

  “It’s wonderful, isn’t it? And I’ve got a lot of women lined up to bring in some crafts for the weekend. And there are more who want to be involved by Independence Day. And we’ve got fresh jelly, and there’s a man bringing in honey to sell. It’s your energy that’s made it all happened, Mike.”

  “Maybe I started it, but it’s a team effort. What’
s been accomplished is about everyone pulling together.”

  Jeanie wrapped her arms around his middle, since he wasn’t letting go of her anyway. “I’m glad you came. I’ve loved having you back. I love—” Jeanie found herself caught by Michael’s warm eyes.

  Michael’s smile faded as they stood. “We’re together aren’t we? Together in this marriage for the first time and forever.”

  “Yes.” Jeanie’s answer was a whisper.

  Pulling back, Michael asked, “Were you going to say it?”

  Jeanie knew what he meant. She still had doubts. Not doubts their marriage would work—she believed that was possible now—but doubts that they were ready for what she saw, right now, in Michael’s eyes. But he was wonderful, and his arms felt so good.

  “I was going to say, I love you.” Jeanie hugged him. “And in the middle of all this, I remembered why I fell in love with you to begin with. I remembered the good things.”

  “Were there any good things?”

  Jeanie sobered. “I fell so hard for you so fast. I was so proud of you. You’re a leader, but you’re generous, too. The way you’ve helped this town is just your nature. You have great vision and enthusiasm. I saw that in you when you were nineteen years old, and it’s still there … that charm, the work ethic, the joy for life.”

  Brow furrowed, Michael said, “Our life together wasn’t joyful. I don’t want you to forget that. I’m almost afraid to let you love me. I want it so desperately.” He hugged her again, lifting her to her toes. Then he set her down. “But I’m afraid I’ll forget what a jerk I can be, and it’ll happen all over again.”

  “I won’t let you forget.”

  “Good girl.” Michael lowered his head. “I love you, Jeanie. And this time I really know what that means.”

  Jeanie set aside her doubts and stretched up to meet her husband’s lips.

  Moments passed, long wonderful moments.

  Then, his heart in his eyes, Michael asked, “We’re together again, aren’t we?” He ran one finger down her cheek, outlining her lips, tracing her jaw.

  “Yes.” Jeanie turned her head and kissed his palm, but a niggling of fear wouldn’t let her give in to what Michael was obviously asking. “Yes, we’re really together. And this time it’s forever. But I don’t think we’re ready—at least I’m not.”

  Jeanie could see Michael fight the urge to push his wants on her, pressure her into accepting their marriage in all its fullness. But he won that fight. “I’ll wait as long as you need. Hearing you say you love me is enough for now. It’s what I’ve been praying for.”

  Relieved, Jeanie kissed him again.

  Then they separated for their private rooms.

  Michael sang while he worked the next day.

  Only finishing touches to ten proud little triangles of unfinished wood along the creek. Inside, each cabin was one main room with bare stud walls, no insulation or dry wall, twenty-four by twenty-four feet square at the base, rising to a peaked roof. A cement floor covered with cheap linoleum. A tiny bathroom—each cabin’s only amenity besides a bed and electric lights—was partitioned out of each main room.

  He’d rented these out so fast he knew he could build fifty more and keep them full. Line the whole creek bank on both sides. Maybe build a swinging footbridge and create some hiking trails. It was a beautiful, rustic spot. He had plans to polish the cabins up a bit, make them tight for winter and add heating and a tiny kitchen area. Rent them to tourists in the summer, ice fishermen in the winter, and hunters in the spring and fall. The smell of fresh wood and the outdoors was like the finest perfume. He was sure the customers would love them.

  And speaking of love …

  He pressed his hand flat to massage his heart. He’d glanced behind him a hundred times all through the morning, waiting for Jeanie to finish at the senior center and come to him. He could barely breathe when he thought of how madly in love he was.

  God, forgive me for that awful excuse for love we shared before. Thank You, thank You, thank You for blessing me with my wife back. I didn’t deserve it.

  His eyes welled with tears as he remembered and cherished the new beginning.

  God, thank You, thank You, thank You.

  He couldn’t say it enough times. He couldn’t say it humbly enough. He couldn’t ever begin to be worthy of this blessing.

  He felt her and turned. Of course he’d turned around a hundred times before, thinking that he’d felt her those times, too.

  She walked toward him, her hair pulled back in its no-nonsense ponytail, dressed in the jeans and T-shirt she wore to work. He dropped the broom he’d been using to sweep wood chips away from the front doors of his cabins and ran toward her. She was already nearly jogging, but when he ran, she raced to meet him.

  Michael swept her into his arms in front of the refurbished gas station. When the kiss ended, Michael swung her in a circle. “I’ve been watching for you all morning.”

  They were alone. The rest of the town was sprucing up their homes and streets to welcome the holiday crowds.

  Jeanie laughed. “I set a new record cleaning up after dinner.”

  Michael set her feet back on the ground, and they just held each other. Michael cherished every breath, every moment, every touch.

  Thank You, God. Thank You. Thank You.

  “Are we going to stand here holding each other all day?” Jeanie asked.

  “How about until we die of old age?” Michael kissed the top of her head, her temple, her eyes.

  “I want to hold on to you for that long, Michael.”

  He kissed her soundly. “Good. Then we’re in total agreement.” He squeezed until her feet lifted off the ground and she squeaked. He set her down, laughing. “Now, what have we got left to do before the first renter arrives?”

  They worked companionably together for several hours, having fun making the cabins perfect.

  Then their first guest arrived. The day got hectic as Jeanie took the vacationers into the café to register and Michael helped with the luggage.

  Glynna arrived with her neat foil containers of hot savory roast beef and side dishes. The guests ate as fast as Glynna and Jeanie spooned the food, and the rustic cash register they had found abandoned in the building rang up sale after sale.

  It was early evening by the time there was a letup. The Buffalo Bus was ready, and rides had been scheduled for the morning. The cabins were full, Jeanie’s café-in-training was cleaned and set up for breakfast, and Jeanie and Michael made their way home, tired but overjoyed with the success of the day.

  They were a couple, Michael knew, in a way they’d never been before. Married in their hearts and souls and minds.

  Married in the way God intended.

  Jeanie ran nonstop the whole weekend.

  The activity was laced with joy as she watched Michael shine. He had a knack for bringing everyone along with him when he was enthusiastic.

  Glynna’s food sold out every meal. The Buffalo Bus was a huge hit, with people driving in for the day to ride it along with the people staying in the cabins.

  The senior citizens had a fund-raising dinner Saturday at noon that had Jeanie running back and forth between that building and her café. But with all the extra hands helping in both places, she kept up and had fun.

  On Sunday they had a community worship service in the park, and Monday morning featured the traditional Memorial Day program at the city auditorium. When the veterans marched in with the American flag, an army band Michael had arranged struck up The Star-Spangled Banner. Pride nearly vibrated the building.

  By the time everyone checked out of the cabins on Monday and the Buffalo Bus had made its last run, Jeanie was ready to collapse; but it was a good kind of exhaustion.

  Michael helped her lock up the café. “You’re a fantastic cook, Jeanie. Glynna did a great job, but I’d love some of your homemade bread on the menu. Do you think Glynna would maybe partner with you when we get the building up to specs? You’ll need waitress
es and at least one more cook. By Independence Day I’d like to …”

  Jeanie listened with tired amusement as they walked through the darkened streets, trees sighing overhead in the cool May breeze. Nightingales setting their walk to music. The homes were mostly darkened, though an occasional window glowed with light.

  Michael drew energy from people and plans, and she remembered, years ago, that she’d been a social butterfly, too.

  “You keep planning and arranging, but tomorrow I go back to my normal life. I’ve got to work morning and afternoon. They let me off at the nursing home for the last two weeks, and I took time off from my other jobs, too. But people have been taking extra shifts to fill in.”

  Michael stopped so suddenly that Jeanie stumbled. He turned. “What other jobs?”

  “I help out at the library on Thursday nights and at the mini-mart two Saturdays a month.”

  “You haven’t done that since I’ve been back, not even those first two weeks.”

  “You knew I went to the library on Thursdays.”

  “That was a job? I thought you were volunteering.”

  “No, I get paid. And I only work two Saturdays a month at the mini-mart, and you came on an off week. Then I asked for a break because of all this activity, but—”

  Michael pulled her so tight against him that she couldn’t finish making her point. But she suspected he got the gist.

  “What do you think about quitting the extra jobs? Maybe the senior center, too? I’ve got five of the cabins rented out for next week. Not just a couple of weekend nights—the whole week. We’re going to want to keep Jeanie’s Café open. It’s not like the little bit of money you bring in from these part-time jobs is important. I can support us.”

  Jeanie worried her bottom lip as she considered it. “I like the work I do. There’s a real need, Michael.”

  “I agree. You can’t quit unless there’s someone to fill the void.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve done so much for this town.”

  Jeanie shook her head with a smile. “You’ve done more in, what—a month?—than I did in a year.”