Fading Thunder
Page 23
“For the housewarming?”
“The guests will go back to your house after the wedding. You can call it a reception, housewarming — whatever you want.”
I touched my hair, still damp from the shower. “A wedding?” My pulse quickened. “I’m a mess.”
“If you’ll hurry up, I can brush your hair, help with your makeup.”
My hands were shaking as I searched her eyes again. “Are you sure Michael agreed to this?”
“Yes.” She took his shirt from my arms. “Put on the dress. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll come button you up.” She threw the shirt into the suitcase and left.
I ran my hand over the beautiful fabric and began to undress. I had just gotten the dress over my head, when there was a knock on the door.
“Jay? You ready?” The door swung open. It was Laurie.
“Laurie? You knew about this, too?”
Velma brushed past Laurie and went to work buttoning the dress. “I was sure you didn’t have the makeup you need. I bought you everything I could think of.”
Aunt Jenny and Aunt Liza were at the door. “Does the dress fit?” Aunt Liza asked.
Velma nodded. “Perfectly.”
Aunt Jenny looked worried. “Shouldn’t she put on her makeup first?”
“We’ll drape a towel around her. Laurie, will you please find a couple of towels?” Velma asked.
Laurie scurried away. Aunt Liza came to me and placed her hands on my cheeks. “You don’t need any makeup. You are beautiful.”
Velma nodded and grinned. “She is beautiful. We’ll make her gorgeous.”
Velma surprised me by braiding my hair straight down my back. I protested, wanting to gather it in a bun, but she told me to trust her. Then we drove, not to the church like I had thought, but to Cedar Spring. Someone had been busy putting down a small bridge over the ditch and widening the path. A spray of flowers was thrust in my hands. I looked down at snapdragons in pale yellows and oranges, tied together with a beige ribbon.
I walked the path alone, my dress trailing the ground did not allow anyone to walk beside me. My aunts went ahead, and Laurie and Velma, giggling like schoolgirls, came behind.
My heart thudded in my chest as I stepped into the clearing, and the people gathered there let out a collective sound, as if they had sucked in their breaths as one. Uncle Colt waited, holding out his arm. I took it and looked around in amazement. All of our kinfolk were there, and all dressed fit to kill. But not only kinfolk — friends, clients, and neighbors as well as the preacher. Isaac and Elizabeth House were there beside Argos and Coby, who lay side by side under the cedar tree.
Then my eyes turned to my husband in his Dress Blues, who stood near the head of the spring where it bubbled from the ground. The cedar loomed larger than ever, but my gaze was drawn back to my husband. Michael watched me as we walked to him. Uncle Colt handed me to my husband, and I clung to Michael for a minute, my legs weak.
He bent his head to me. “Are you okay?”
I smiled, his strength giving me strength. “Never better.” I straightened, slid my hand into his, and then turned to face the preacher.
After the ceremony, when the crowd had begun to clear away, Michael led me to the rock where we had sat that day so long ago. “Remember?” He took off his hat and laid it to the side.
I nodded, knowing exactly what he spoke of. “Like it was yesterday. Twin fawns came into the clearing.”
“Yeah. That’s not the part I was talking about.” He took a seat and pulled me nearer for a kiss. After a moment, when his kiss deepened, some of the stragglers began whooping and hollering. I giggled as he released me.
“I didn’t remember that we had an audience,” Michael said.
I leaned against him. “Are they going to the housewarming?”
“Yes, but they won’t miss us for a while.” Michael captured my hand and kissed my palm. “I wish I had the words to tell you how beautiful you are. Thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes within thy locks —” He shook his head. “That won’t do. Your eyes are more like the sparkling emerald waters in the Gulf.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you didn’t say my teeth were like a flock of sheep.”
He laughed. I moved back, and he got up from the rock and replaced his hat. The way he looked in his uniform made my heart beat a little faster. He was clean-shaven but needed a haircut, his hair curling around his ears. When he saw me watching him, his eyes darkened.
He tilted his head and smiled. “Maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of the twin fawns tonight.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I slapped his arm. He only laughed and led the way out. I walked alone on the narrow path.
No, not alone. Michael held his hand behind him, and I grasped it, and we walked together.
Epilogue
On the swing in the yard, I curled my legs under me and leaned on Michael, keeping an eye on our five children who played hide-and-seek. If I hadn’t been so bone tired, I would have joined them. Michael and I had a busy day, pulling calves mainly.
J.C., our oldest son, began begging at twelve to help out. And we allowed him. That wasn’t the wisest thing to do for soon all the young’ns were clamoring to go with us. We had to hire an assistant for the sole purpose of keeping the kids under control — no easy feat and more than one worker had quit on us. Fortunately, school and the ensuing homework kept the kids busy most of the year, along with church and after-school events.
Today, they’d been out of school for a holiday and had been with us all day. Still, for all the messiness and stress they’d added to our lives, I wouldn’t have traded them for anything ... except maybe my own private bathroom. The one I’d been so proud of could only be enjoyed in peace when I rose early in the morning or stayed up late at night.
I chuckled. Sharing a bathroom with the five kids and Michael was better than using the outhouse, wasn’t it? And didn’t we use to haul buckets of water from the well to heat on the woodstove for a bath? I had no need to complain.
And that old woodstove! I missed it so ... oh, not the cooking on it in the middle of summer with sweat dripping down my face ... but the way Zeke and I had warmed by it in our childhood. Who would have thought life would be so different now?
Almost everyone had a car, electricity, and running water, even those of us out here in the boondocks.
I counted my blessings — all the comforts God had provided us and, most of all, my family.
Our two youngest ran to me, their cheeks red from the fresh air and exercise.
“Shh ...,” Buddy whispered, as he slipped behind the swing. His little sister followed him, and a moment later, a scuffle broke out.
“Momma! He pushed me,” Rose cried.
“Buddy ...,” Michael warned.
“She’s hiding in my spot,” Buddy grumbled.
“Come here, Rose.” She came around the swing, and I scooped her up. She squeezed behind Michael and me, and I laid my head in Michael’s lap and draped my arms over Rose to hide her small body.
Michael grinned at me. “Want to adopt a few more? One of my army buddies was telling me ...”
I held up a hand. “Michael! If we adopt more, that’ll spoil the old woman’s prediction.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
Rose poked her own little head out from under my arm. “What’s so funny, Daddy?”
J.C. spotted her and streaked toward us. Rose shrieked.
I pushed myself up to a seated position and clapped my hands over my ears until the noise died down.
Rose grabbed my arms to pull them away from my ears. “Momma, will you be It?”
Resisting her pull, I asked, “How about Daddy?”
Michael was up, swinging Rose into the air, the other children hanging on his arms and legs. “Why don’t we both play?” Michael dragged me to my feet, laughing,
“Run and hide!” I yelled.
He set Rose on her feet, and the kids scattered. My husband remained by my si
de, his arms wrapped tightly around me. Before he released me, his warm lips found mine, and I thanked God all the old woman’s predictions had come true
...in the shadow of the cedar.
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A Note from the Abagail Eldan
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Abagail Eldan’s Biography
ABAGAIL HAS LIVED MANY places, none home until she returned to south Alabama. She lives with her husband, three dogs, and two cats near the farms where her ancestors struggled to scratch a living from the ground.
She agrees with Emily Dickinson who said, “I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it until it begins to shine.”
I also write western historical romance, and I’m part of the Brokken Writers.