by Karen Kirst
His mind spun. “That’s insane.”
The music ceased. Ellie turned her attention to the groom, who was now waiting beneath the bower of mums and greenery, his hands locked behind his back. Stragglers rushed to find seats.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“She’s saying that the baby and I will be making our home with Nadine and Ralph. That we’re one big happy family.” She splayed her hand across her bulging belly. “Gladys is scripting my life and that of my baby without my consent. Their possible plans for us keep me up at night.”
Scrutinizing her profile, Alexander worked to keep his expression pleasant. They were in full view of the crowd. Anyone looking would assume they were sharing sweet nothings typical of an engaged couple.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he scraped out, frustration pounding at his temples. “I could’ve—”
“Could’ve what?” Turning her head, her gaze delved into his. “There’s nothing you or anyone can do. They’re twisted, Alex. No amount of reasoning will fix things.” She huffed out a breath that fanned his cheek. “I was wrong to think being engaged to you would ward them off.”
The defeat blanketing her floored Alexander. He floundered for a solution, anything to restore her hope.
“Come to Texas with me,” he blurted louder than he’d intended.
The woman sitting in front of them turned to stare. Margaret leaned in so their shoulders were touching.
“What did you say?”
Lips parting, Ellie’s throat worked. “You don’t mean that.”
“I...” He stalled, as stunned as the women on either side of him.
“The Wilson and Rogers families would like to welcome you to the marriage of their offspring, Tabitha and Jimmy.” Reverend Munroe’s voice boomed over the crowd, causing a hush to descend.
Alexander couldn’t concentrate on the reverend’s speech. Texas was the last place he wanted to be, especially with Ellie. But she’d be far from those trying to control her. What was more important? His state of mind or her safety?
Chapter Twenty-One
The ceremony was difficult in many ways. It was poignant and inspirational. Listening to the young couple’s story made Ellie’s heart ache for what she couldn’t have. Seated beside the man she loved, she listened as the reverend introduced the young bride and groom, launching into their personal history before the vows were spoken. Flo’s niece, Tabitha, had lost her first husband to illness within the first year of marriage. Their only child, a boy, died three days after birth. At this point, Tabitha assumed the telling, the sheen of tears mingling with a bittersweet smile as she regarded her captive audience.
Beside her, Alexander shifted in his chair. He hadn’t dared look at her since blurting out the offer he clearly regretted. She’d witnessed the warring emotions in his intense blue eyes the moment his mind caught up with his mouth. He wasn’t going to Texas, and neither was she.
“My heart was broken,” Tabitha said. “I resigned myself to a lifetime of loneliness. I lived in a cloud of despair for months, until one day I discovered a lost little girl on my property.”
At this point, the bride turned her full attention to her groom and the three small children holding hands beside him.
“That was me!” The shortest one piped up, earning chuckles from the crowd.
Alexander leaned forward and propped his elbows on his thighs, intent on the story.
The groom, Jimmy, patted his daughter on the head. “If you hadn’t gone wandering off, I might not be standing here today.”
Angling toward the guests, Jimmy told how he came in from the fields one day to find a note. His wife had abandoned him and their kids. Furious and hurting, he hadn’t known what to do. It had taken many nights on his knees in prayer to forgive her. And longer still to resolve the fact she wasn’t coming home. Embarrassed by his divorce, he sank into a pit of self-pity.
“Until you met me.” Tabitha reached out and took his hand.
“Until I met you.”
The love on their shining faces was something to behold.
Reverend Munroe broke the silence. “Anything is possible with God, isn’t it, folks? Sometimes in our darkest hours, we can’t see how He’ll turn tragedy into triumph.”
Throughout the reciting of the vows, Alexander remained unmoving. Try as she might, she couldn’t discern his thoughts. On his other side, Margaret dashed tears from her cheeks, no doubt dreaming about her own wedding. When the reverend pronounced them husband and wife, Jimmy whooped and twirled Tabitha in a circle. The children ambushed the pair and, amid claps and whistles, the newly-formed family walked up the aisle.
A yearning took root in Ellie’s being to have the same ending to her own tragic circumstances. Margaret’s talk of a second wedding inspired thoughts of her grandmother’s dress, which was safely stored in her room at June’s. She wouldn’t have an occasion to wear it. Now that she knew what genuine love was, she couldn’t pledge her life to any other man besides Alexander.
The guests started toward the refreshment tables situated beneath the trees. It wasn’t five minutes before she and Alexander were approached with some teasing, some not so teasing questions about their own wedding plans.
“When are you two going to tie the knot?” Claude Jenkins, the banker, addressed Alexander. “Your sister’s in town. Perfect time.”
Claude’s wife, Merilee, stared pointedly at Ellie’s stomach. “I’d say the sooner, the better.”
Alexander’s hand came to rest low on her back. “We appreciate your interest, but we haven’t yet decided. We’ll make an announcement as soon as we do.”
They moved off to join the line of well-wishers. Margaret watched them in obvious disapproval. “Well, that was rude.”
Ellie shook her head. “They’re simply expressing what everyone else in attendance is thinking.”
Turning back, Margaret grasped Alexander’s arm, her blue gaze searching. “Tell me, brother, were you serious about Texas? Because Thomas misses you. He doesn’t express his feelings to me, of course, but I can tell. And Rosa would dearly love to ply you with empanadas and tamales and see for herself that you’re hale and hearty. Then there’s the small matter of your only sister’s wedding...”
His mouth twisted with regret. “I spoke without thinking. I have the café to run. Perhaps in the future I could make the trip.”
“What about Ellie? Seems to me she’d benefit from putting space between her and those horrid people.”
“She’s in no condition to undergo such a lengthy journey.”
“I’m the one who should make that determination,” Ellie said. “Be honest, Alexander. The real reason you don’t want to go has nothing to do with me or the Plum.”
He finally looked at her, his mood inscrutable. A vein ticked at his temple. He was displeased with her for speaking plainly about his circumstances and for keeping mum about her own. Of course her first instinct had been to tell him about the letter, but what good would worrying him further have done?
“I need cake.”
Ellie left the siblings, her gait not as graceful or quick as before. At the table laden with Mason jars full of raspberry shrub, Caroline approached her.
Pleasantries dispensed, she got straight to the point. “With Thanksgiving a couple of weeks away, the society is planning our yearly food basket ministry. I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping?”
“I’d love to.”
Caroline beamed. “Wonderful. We’re having a meeting on Monday afternoon. My house.” She named the time.
“That’s perfect.” Alexander had encouraged her to get involved. He wouldn’t mind. “I’ll check with Sally to see if she can help Flo prepare the supper meal.”
The sophisticated blonde lowered
her voice. “How are things with you and Alexander?”
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
Her concern didn’t smack of nosiness like the others’. “I can imagine an arrangement like yours might prove difficult in some aspects. Spending an increased amount of time in each other’s company. Putting on a show of affection.” She sipped her own drink. “Did you know that Duncan and I were forced to marry?”
Ellie’s jaw sagged. “I had no idea. You seem perfectly suited.” And very much in love.
She smiled. “We didn’t know that in the beginning. We’re both stubborn, you see.”
Intrigued, she said, “I’d love to hear your story.”
“I’ll be happy to tell it.” Caroline’s gaze scanned the crowd, and she inclined her head to indicate Duncan’s approach. “Another time.”
“Mine and Alexander’s situation is far different than yours,” she felt compelled to point out. “This is temporary.”
At the knowing glint in the other woman’s eyes, Ellie shifted uncomfortably. Were her feelings for Alexander obvious?
“There are pitfalls, all the same. The human heart is unpredictable. Just know that if you have need of a friend, I’m here.”
Duncan arrived then and, pulling his wife close, planted a quick kiss on her temple. Ellie forced her gaze elsewhere, only to land squarely on her temporary fiancé. He looked uncomfortable and miserable as if he was wishing he could seek refuge in his office.
* * *
“Were you ever planning to come and see us?” Margaret demanded quietly. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but it’s been three years since we lost Sarah and Levi.”
Taking her arm, he led Margaret to the outer edge of the gathering where they wouldn’t be overheard. “You’re not being insensitive. You’re being your usual frank self, and you deserve the same honesty from me. I’m not sure I’ll ever set foot in Texas again.”
She winced. “But it’s your home, Alex. Your heritage. Pa left the ranch to you. Thomas is filling in for you until you return.”
Alexander battled mixed emotions. Before the fire, he hadn’t questioned his future. It had been mapped out for him since birth. There’d been no question he’d follow in his ancestors’ footsteps. In those days, he hadn’t given Tennessee a fleeting thought. He certainly hadn’t imagined himself living above a café and serving an endless round of meals to hard-to-please customers.
“This is my life now, Margaret. Thomas has to understand that the ranch is his responsibility.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “All this time, we thought you were simply grieving and that time and distance would heal your wounds. We’ve been patient and understanding, despite the fact you basically abandoned us without a goodbye.”
“I’m sorry, sis. I truly am. I should’ve handled the fire and its aftermath differently, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. And when I almost killed Cyrus, I knew I had to leave right away, before I did something I couldn’t take back.”
Her eyes went round. “What are you talking about?”
“Surely you heard.” Alexander searched her face. “I knew there’d be talk. Beating a man to within an inch of his life isn’t news easily suppressed.”
“Alex, I have no inkling of what you speak.”
He gazed at the happy guests enjoying the refreshments. Memories crowded in, haunting memories of the night he lost everything—his wife and son, his home, and nearly his freedom.
Crazed with grief and rage, he’d ridden hard and fast to the Pollard spread. He’d hollered for Cyrus to come out and face him. The ranch hands had emerged from the bunk house, unsettled by the sight of a crazed man on the property and prepared to defend their boss. But the arrogant ranch owner hadn’t been afraid of a much younger, slighter Alexander.
Cyrus had underestimated his drive for revenge.
“I confronted him,” he told Margaret, his voice gruff. “I leaped on him like a savage beast and nearly pummeled him to death.”
Her complexion pale, she lifted trembling hands to her mouth. “What stopped you from...?”
“Ending him? I’d like to say I regained my self-control, but it was the ranch hands who put a stop to it. They pulled me off and threatened me with a gunshot to the chest if I didn’t skedaddle. At that point, I didn’t care whether I lived or died.” He hadn’t cared for a long time. Until Ellie. Rubbing the spot above his heart, he said, “I just wanted the pain to stop.”
His solution had been to flee the only home he’d ever known. Only, it hadn’t worked. The pain had traveled with him, hatred and bitterness poisoning his soul.
“Oh, Alex.” Margaret hugged him tight. “I wish I’d been able to do something. I’ve felt so helpless. Truth be told, I still do.”
“There’s nothing you could’ve done.” He eased away and gazed deeply into her troubled eyes. “I’m glad you came to Gatlinburg. I’ve missed you. I didn’t know how much until I saw you standing in my dining room.”
Her smile was tremulous. “I didn’t exactly give you a choice. I was afraid if I warned you ahead of time, you’d find an excuse for me not to come.”
“My intentions were never to hurt you or Thomas.”
“I know.” She flicked a leaf from his shoulder. “After you left, weren’t you afraid Cyrus would set the law after you?”
“I considered that. Soon after my arrival, I wrote the sheriff and informed him of my whereabouts. Told him if he decided I deserved jail to come and get me. About two months passed before I received a response. Cyrus hadn’t breathed a word to anyone. He certainly didn’t bring it to the sheriff’s attention.”
“He wasn’t the kind of man to turn the other cheek.”
“No, he wasn’t. But he was guilty of murder. Some, if not all, of his employees must’ve known and that’s why they kept quiet.”
His gaze drifted to the bride and groom and their small brood, the lot of them radiating happiness. He felt Margaret’s fleeting touch.
“You could have that again.”
“I don’t know.”
His attention shifted to the right to where his beautiful, purehearted cook stood conversing with Flo.
“Don’t you think it’s time to release the burdens you’ve been carrying around all these years? Forgiving those who wronged you—forgiving yourself—would free you to live again.”
“I know what I’m supposed to do,” he said. “I’m not sure it’s possible, though.”
“Remember Ma’s favorite verse?”
“How could I not? She hung the stitched sampler beside the door so we’d see it every time we left the house.”
“‘For with God nothing shall be impossible.’”
“Luke 1:37.”
Alexander recognized that holding on to this anger wasn’t hurting anyone other than himself. Getting his heart to release it, however, was the problem. To do so would feel like he was failing Sarah and Levi, as if their deaths didn’t matter.
I need Your help, God.
The spontaneous prayer felt right. And sort of freeing.
I’m done running from my problems, but I can’t work through them alone.
“Do me a favor?”
Margaret’s brows collided. “Anything.”
“Pray for me.”
Her lips curved. “I’ve been doing that all along.”
“And pray for Ellie. Pray her enemies leave her alone to enjoy what’s left of her pregnancy. She deserves that.”
“I will. Of course I will. But you have to do something for me.”
“What?”
“Ask yourself why you agreed to this charade and what exactly Ellie has come to mean to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
She was getting bigger every day. Ellie tugged on the snug skirt and wrinkled her
nose in distaste. “I adjusted this skirt two weeks ago.”
“Stop fretting,” Margaret admonished good-naturedly. “You’re gorgeous.”
Together, they climbed the stairs of the stately two-story home belonging to Caroline and Duncan. Slightly nervous about the society meeting, Ellie was grateful for the other woman’s company.
“I know Alexander thinks so, too.”
Ellie’s fingers hovered over the knocker. “Nonsense.”
“I know my brother.” Margaret tossed her head. “I’ve seen how his gaze tracks your every move.”
“Because I’m too large to miss.”
“No, because he’s smitten.” Her bubbly laughter wrapped around Ellie. “You’re perfectly proportioned. Believe me, I’ve seen some women in your condition blow up like hot air balloons.” She inflated her cheeks with air, making Ellie laugh.
The door opened then, and they were greeted by Caroline, who showed them into a spacious dining room done in elegant hues of blue and silver. The long walnut table was littered with baskets, ribbons and mounds of material. Several other women had arrived before them. They welcomed her and Margaret with warm smiles and immediately drew them into the activity.
The group worked for more than an hour, conversation flowing like pan-heated honey as they decorated the baskets that would eventually be filled with preserves, fresh bread and baked goods, canned vegetables, and smoked hams. When Caroline decreed it was time for a break, her cook served a delicious assortment of bite-size cakes and cookies. As Ellie had feared, the focus eventually landed on her wedding plans. The other ladies’ interest was to be expected, she reminded herself, and aimed for a pleasant yet concise response.
“Mr. Copeland is dragging his feet, isn’t he?” A young mother named Laura studied her with compassion. “Some men are frightened silly by the idea of marriage.”
“Or commitment in general,” another woman commented. “Our debonair deputy is a prime example.”
“But he asked her to marry him,” Angela Tate intervened. “That shows he’s willing and eager. Are you the one with reservations, Ellie? No one would blame you, seeing as you so recently lost your husband.”
