Western Winter Wedding Bells

by Cheryl St. John, Jenna Kernan

  “We’re not obligated to each other in that way,” she said.

  He looked puzzled by that remark. “What do you mean by obligated?”

  “You know what obligated means.”

  “Yes, I do, and I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

  “What do you think I’m saying?”

  “That maybe I expect my financial investment repaid in a more—” a muscle flexed in his jaw “—intimate manner. You’re not obligated to me in any way, and I don’t expect anything from you.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant—”

  “I’ll be making pews.” He turned and loped down the stairs.

  “That wasn’t what I meant!” she called after him. “It came out wrong.”

  Ignoring her, he untied the horse’s reins from the gate, swung up onto the saddle, turned the animal’s head away and rode off.

  Disappointment sank in her chest. He’d completely misunderstood her concern, but maybe it was for the best this way. If he was mad at her, she wouldn’t have to risk hurting him or being hurt when things didn’t work out.

  That mid-December week was one of the longest of her life.

  Chapter Nine

  By the following week, snow had settled several inches deep and still more fell from the sky. The wind kicked up, and drifts piled against homes and fences, and reports came of ranchers searching for stranded cattle. The nights were wrapped in the insulated silence of winter, and Chloe had trouble sleeping. Antoinette’s purr was loud as the feline lay curled at the foot of Chloe’s bed. The moon reflecting off the snow made her room brighter than normal, and one night Chloe got up to hang a blanket over the window nearest her bed.

  The following day, she took down the curtains and replaced them with heavier drapes that pulled closed, and still she lay awake at night. Ernie Paulson dropped by midweek to tell her he and Owen would be delivering the new pews and fastening them down within the next few days. Owen wanted her input on alignment and had asked her to meet them the next morning.

  After bundling in her warm coat and boots, she trudged the distance to the church.

  At the sound of the door opening, Owen waited expectantly to see who would enter from the vestibule. Chloe’s cheeks were reddened from the cold, and tresses of her hair tumbled loose when she removed her scarf. Seeing her brightened his day. His heart did a two-step in his chest, but he forced himself to tuck away those unwanted feelings.

  “Good morning,” he said. He’d made certain that Ernie was present when they came face-to-face this time.

  “Mornin’, Miss Hanley,” Ernie called.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.” Entering, she surveyed the wooden seating he’d labored over for the past nine days. After running her palm along the back and down the arm of one like a caress, she lifted her gaze. The sheen of tears in her blue eyes startled him.

  “They’re so beautiful, Owen.” Emotion choked her voice, and she pressed a hand to her breast. “They look just like the others. In fact…” She took a moment to move from one bench to another all the way to the front of the sanctuary and back. “They all look the same.”

  “I refinished the old ones so the new would match. You can tell the difference if you get underneath or if you look hard and find the deep nicks I repaired.”

  “They’re beautiful. They look just like I remember.”

  He remembered, too. That’s why he’d worked so hard to achieve the original color and finish.

  “I still have to affix holders to the backs of a few. For the hymnals.”

  “I have two boxes of hymnals in the coatroom that were in our attic. We only took a few to the school, and I stored the rest.”

  “The pews aren’t fastened down yet,” he told her. “I wanted to make sure I had the spacing right. I can tell by the marks on the old floor where most of them go, but I waited to see how you wanted to work in the old with the new.”

  “What if you use a new one in every other row?” she asked.

  “That’s sounds good to me.”

  She looked upward, where he’d used scaffolding to stand and replace the wood panels on the ceiling. “It’s really coming together.” Her tone revealed her awe and pleasure. Her gaze fell back to him. “This wouldn’t have happened without you.” She quickly turned to Ernie. “Without all of you.”

  “I wanted to do it,” Owen replied. His hide was still chapped about her insinuation that he’d done the work with an ulterior motive.

  He’d pretty much laid bare his feelings for her, and she’d let him know she felt no obligation to return them. That was fine with him. At least he knew where he stood.

  “Four days until Christmas Eve,” she said. “We’ve almost made it—except for the window.” She glanced to where wood covered the opening to hold out the weather. “I got a telegram saying it had been put on a train, but Jim Gold says the trains are delayed because of drifting.”

  “I was thinking,” he told her. “I can go cut down a couple of fairly good-sized conifers. If I set one right outside, it will block that boarded-up window from view. And if I put one in here, it’ll be covered from this side, too. You can gather the ladies and decorate it before the first service.”

  “That’s a good idea,” she said. “I’d thought about hanging a tapestry over it. We might need to do both.”

  “That one window won’t prevent us from holding Christmas Eve service,” he told her.

  “No,” she agreed. “It’s just that all along I had a vision of showing Richard he was wrong.”

  “He is wrong. The outside probably never even looked this good when the church was new.”

  “I had an idea, too,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I thought about going up the mountainside a ways and gathering enough evergreen boughs to make wreaths and then placing them on the grave stones closest to the churchyard and the street.”

  He wanted to offer to help her, but held his tongue.

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice echoed in the empty room. “Oh, my!” Marcella Bell appeared in the doorway, wearing her coat and holding a fox muff. Her sister Jenetta Sparks was close on her heels.

  “Just look at this!” Marcella said, her voice reflecting her surprise and appreciation. “My stars, Jenetta, will you take a look at this place!”

  Her sister nodded her silver head while admiring the new interior.

  “Chloe, dear,” Marcella called, “we came looking for you, because we have the food baskets ready to deliver. I hired a driver and a buggy, and we really wanted you to accompany us before the snow gets any worse.”

  “I’m finished here,” Chloe replied. “I’ll leave you to this,” she said to Owen. “I don’t want to be underfoot.”

  She joined the sisters and they left the church.

  Owen gathered his tools and got to work.

  On Thursday, Owen took a wagon up the wooded mountainside and cut down two trees. He made a stand for both and positioned one outside the boarded-over window, then stood back and watched flakes falling on its branches. By the next day, snow would fill his tracks and make the tree look like part of the landscape.

  The other tree he carried in and set up directly in front of the missing window. The following day was Christmas Eve. The more he looked at those boards, the more it bothered him that Chloe wouldn’t have her window in time for the following evening’s service. A quick inspection showed hymnals on the back of each pew. He picked one up and flipped through the well-worn pages, then settled it back in place. Before leaving, he mopped up the snow he’d dragged in with the trees, then locked the door on his way out.

  After taking the wagon back to the livery, he stopped by the telegraph office. Jim spotted him and waved a piece of paper. “Telegram came for you or Miss Hanley. I couldn’t leave the place unattended and the boy never showed up today.”

  Owen scanned the message. “The window glass is in Bullhead City, and nobody’s coming this way until the weather clears.�
� He crumpled the paper in disgust. “Even the trains are waiting for the snow to stop drifting.”

  “Reckon that’s to be expected this time of year,” the other man said.

  Owen thanked him and headed back out. It bothered him beyond reason that Chloe was going to be disappointed.

  Chapter Ten

  She’d slept better the night before, but Chloe woke early, thoughts of trimming the Christmas tree already swimming in her head.

  The day before she’d asked Miss Sarah to give her a hand carrying boxes down from the attic. Chloe’s German grandmother, whom she couldn’t remember, had saved glass ornaments brought to this country from her homeland. Chloe had used them a few times while her grandfather had still been alive because they brought him pleasure, but the past few years she’d only placed a small feather tree on a table in the parlor.

  The night before, the two women had wiped dust from the cartons and stacked them in the front hallway before bathing and washing their hair. This morning they were transporting the ornaments to church.

  Surprisingly, Miss Sarah had started breakfast, soft-boiled eggs and cooked meal. Chloe brewed a pot of tea and they ate.

  “Mr. Tate asked me to sit with him at the service this evening,” Sarah said, her eyes downcast.

  “That sounds nice,” Chloe told her.

  “I’ve been trying to decide what to wear.” Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

  “Would you like me to help you select something?”

  Sarah nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  “We’ll do it as soon as we finish the tree and get back,” Chloe promised. “I haven’t decided what I’m wearing yet, either.”

  “I think you should consider your jade skirt and jacket with the black velvet trim,” the older woman said, surprising Chloe. Today was the first time they’d ever had a conversation like this one.

  “It’s a lovely festive shade and it complements your hair,” Sarah added.

  “That’s a good suggestion. Thank you.”

  They finished, washed their dishes and prepared to leave the house. “I was thinking ahead,” Chloe told her as she stepped onto the porch and pointed to a long sled. “I remembered this was in the carriage house, so I found it yesterday and set it here so we can load the crates on it.”

  Willa and Annie were waiting when they arrived at the church, and Chloe unlocked the doors. Agnes and Melvina joined them, both carrying bags. “I brought red ribbons for the ends of the pews,” Agnes said.

  “And I made strands of cranberries last night,” Melvina told them.

  The six of them made quick work of decorating the tree and the sanctuary, but before they had finished, the door opened and Zeb carried in fragrant boughs of evergreens he’d cut and trimmed and shaped into wreaths and swags. The fresh-cut boughs combined with the scent of the tree to fill the church with holiday smells.

  Zeb helped Miss Sarah arrange a bough and watched her add a velvet bow. His unmistakable infatuation with Miss Sarah had become evident to everyone. The rest of the ladies left them alone with their task and stole sly glances, then looked at each other and grinned.

  Seeing Miss Sarah’s shy reactions and the way she looked at Zeb when he didn’t know made Chloe’s chest ache. His attention was completely uncommon for the introverted woman, but Chloe could tell she was growing more and more receptive. A romance was blooming right before her eyes, and Chloe was happy for both of them.

  Chloe hadn’t seen Owen yet that day, but his work there was done for now, and he did have his own jobs to do. Being unable to share these last accomplishments with him dimmed her satisfaction, but she had only herself to blame for his withdrawal. If she hadn’t confused her feelings for his family with an attraction to him, things wouldn’t have gotten so uncomfortable between them and they’d still be friends.

  She’d let him think there was more to her feelings than just…She stopped her thoughts, because she didn’t know how their relationship had begun. They were partners in a job that both of them felt strongly about. The restoration had gone smoothly, even with his brother’s animosity toward them, until those kisses.

  Chloe blinked to clear her thoughts because she didn’t want to think about kissing Owen anymore.

  She draped the last greenery over the top of the piano Frank Garrison had donated. He’d said it had been his mother’s and that he didn’t need it. It was a shiny baby grand he’d even had tuned after it had been moved.

  Miss Sarah approached Chloe. “Do you think I might play a few notes to see how the piano sounds?”

  “Certainly,” Chloe answered with a smile. “The committee didn’t make any plans for accompaniment, because the organ was ruined and removed, and we had no instruments.”

  “Did you select songs?”

  Chloe called to Melvina. “Mrs. Pierce, have you chosen the music for tonight’s service?”

  Melvina hurried to her handbag and took out a few papers. “I have lists for tonight and tomorrow morning right here. Willa and Agnes helped me.”

  Miss Sarah looked over the song list. “I’d be happy to play the piano. Of course I’m not a member of the First Church, so I don’t know if I’d be allowed.”

  “Doesn’t matter a whit,” Melvina told her. “The Good Lord doesn’t check a membership list at the door.”

  Miss Sarah carried the note over to the piano and positioned the bench, then flipped through a hymnal. She opened the wooden lid and played the opening measures of “Silent Night.”

  One at a time, the other women finished what they were doing until all of them stood around the piano. Annie White sang the words to the last verse, and the rest of them joined in.

  When Miss Sarah played “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” Chloe picked out harmony, and their voices blended in the resounding space. Goose bumps rose on Chloe’s arms at the beautiful sounds they made. As the last notes faded away, she looked around, noting the emotion each woman showed at that moment.

  “This is an exciting day.” Agnes’s voice quivered. “Having the church back is going to mean so much to the people of Red Willow. I’ve missed coming here. I’ve missed the sense of belonging and solidarity we used to know when we met inside these walls. It’s a good thing you’ve done here, Chloe.”

  Chloe found her voice. “Owen did so much. Everyone worked hard, but he gave the most.”

  “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t stood up to Richard Reardon and enlisted Owen and the rest of us.” Willa reached for Chloe’s hand. “Your grandfather would be so pleased and proud.”

  Chloe couldn’t answer around the lump in her throat. She smiled and hugged each of the other ladies before they cleaned up their messes and headed their separate ways.

  That afternoon, she helped Miss Sarah select a dress from her armoire for the evening. They decided on a gown of Oriental sapphire-blue lampas, with a velvet bodice and sea otter trim at the hem and collar. The graceful lines of the dress accentuated Miss Sarah’s trim figure, and the soft and fully gathered front frill that spilled from the neck opening added femininity.

  When Miss Sarah showed her a hat of blue plush felt that matched, Chloe stared. “Why haven’t I seen any of these clothes before?”

  “I haven’t had anywhere to wear them,” she replied. “I have dresses made, and then they just hang on the rod. It’s a waste really.”

  “I dare say you’ll have occasion to wear them this winter,” Chloe told her.

  “What do you think of Zebulon?” Sarah asked.

  “I think he likes you a lot,” Chloe answered.

  The woman blushed.

  “Owen says he’s a good man who works hard,” she added.

  “Is it foolish of me to enter into something like this at my age?” Sarah asked.

  Chloe used a soft brush to freshen the nap of the velvet bodice of Sarah’s gown. She considered the woman’s question. “Are we ever too old to want someone to love us?”

  Miss Sarah’s fingers stilled on the hat pin she’d
been twirling. “It’s not foolish, is it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  After Sarah chose an underskirt and petticoat, Chloe left her and went downstairs to bake cookies. There were still a few hours remaining, and she wanted to add to the refreshments they’d be serving later. Once they’d baked and cooled, she layered them in a basket and headed to her room.

  She wore the jade lampas skirt with a soft bustle and a quarter train Miss Sarah had suggested. The matching jacket had a pleated black satin belt and black trim in diamond shapes at the shoulders and cuffs.

  The bell rang, and when Chloe went to the door, Zeb Tate stood on the porch in a long brown coat and a Stetson. The sky behind him had turned dark. He touched the brim of his hat.

  “Miss Chloe. I thought you two ladies might like to ride to church tonight.” He gestured to the buggy and single horse at the curb.

  “That’s thoughtful of you,” she told him. “You have saved us from wet feet and soggy skirt hems.” She turned and called up the stairs. “Miss Sarah. We have transportation to the church.”

  Sarah appeared at the top of the stairs and made her way down. The closer she got, the wider Zeb opened his eyes. He doffed his hat. “You’re the prettiest sight this sorry cowboy has seen in a month of Sundays, Miss Sarah.”

  He carried the basket of cookies for Chloe and escorted both women to the buggy and then to the meeting.

  They were among the first to get there, and she thanked Zeb for thoughtfully coming early. Tables had been set up along the back wall for the cookies and coffee that would be served after the service. The whole place smelled like evergreen and tallow. Candles burned in the wall sconces and across the entire front of the sanctuary.

  As townspeople arrived two and three at a time—some with entire families—each person’s surprise showed on their face, and nearly everyone had something to say about the amazing transformation.