Canyon Weddings

by Julie Jarnagin

  Even when everyone else had rejected her, even when she had failed, He had still been there with her.

  Laura’s knees hit the unpolished floor, her head in her hands. She had some things to work out with God.

  Chapter 21

  Connor opened the glass door to the hardware store. This morning he was functioning on almost no sleep. He hadn’t had a full night’s rest since Laura had left town. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He tried to concentrate on work, but instead his mind would wander back to the house on Canyon Crossing and everything he and Laura had planned for it. The thought of it sitting abandoned made him angry. Even if he couldn’t be with Laura, she deserved to be happy. She deserved to move on without the house holding her back.

  Laura wouldn’t return any of his calls. Connor was ready to buy a plane ticket and do anything he could to win her heart, but he knew the truth. Until she could accept Christ’s love and acceptance in her life, her heart wouldn’t be open to Connor’s love either.

  No matter how raw his heart felt, he had to get back to work. Connor leaned on the counter and waited for the employee to finish with another customer so he could place an order for materials for a new project they were building.

  Connor turned to see Herschel walking out between aisles. When their eyes met, Herschel turned and darted back between the shelves.

  As long as Connor had known Herschel, he had never turned down a chance for a conversation. Connor followed him between the rows of hardware. “Herschel, hang on.”

  Herschel stopped and faced him. “Hiya, Connor,” he said with a smile plastered on his face.

  Connor narrowed his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you were avoiding me back there.”

  “Avoiding you? No. I just forgot to grab”—Herschel looked around the shelves and picked up a pair of floral-print gardening gloves—“gloves. I almost walked out without them.”

  Herschel was up to something. Connor rubbed his hand across the hair on the back of his head. The plastic shopping basket Herschel held was filled with paintbrushes, tubes of oil paints, and a small canvas. Connor’s heart pounded with a steady thump. “What’s all that?”

  Herschel swung the basket behind his back. “That’s nothing. Just some things I’m picking up.”

  The hair stood up on Connor’s neck. “I didn’t realize you painted, Herschel.”

  A stilted laugh escaped Herschel’s mouth. “Oh, you know me. It’s never too late to try something new.”

  Connor examined Herschel’s eyes.

  Herschel’s face turned solemn. “Boy, don’t go causing me to break any promises,” he said in a whisper. “You know I’m not the best man for keeping secrets.”

  Connor’s fatigue was replaced by boundless energy. He clasped a hand on Herschel’s shoulder. “You don’t have to say another word.” Connor headed for the door but stopped and turned back to Herschel. “Thank you.”

  Connor practically ran out of the store. He had to see it for himself.

  A few minutes later, Connor knocked on the front door of the house at Canyon Crossing. His heart dipped when there was no answer. He tried twisting the doorknob on the wooden door, and it clicked open.

  Connor stepped inside and took a deep breath through his nose. It still smelled like paint mixed with the sweet smell of lavender, like Laura. He needed to move on, but instead he stood in an empty entryway.

  His boots stood on shining wood floors under him. Connor hadn’t helped her refinish the floors.

  He stopped, holding his breath to make out a faint noise in the background. Footsteps.

  Frozen, he said, “Hello?” which came out as a low rumble. He cleared his throat. “Hello?” he said louder.

  The sound of the screen door at the back of the house slammed. A few seconds later Laura walked through the dining room. He blinked. She stood before him as beautiful as ever in oversized denim overalls, a falling ponytail, and a smudge of yellow paint across her cheek. A paintbrush, still wet with paint, stuck up toward the sky.

  She looked surprised with her mouth slightly open, but it crept into a smile. “Connor,” she said in a whisper.

  Without thinking, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her. Until this moment, he hadn’t let himself admit he feared he would never see her again.

  Laura didn’t stiffen as Connor hugged her. Still holding her wet paintbrush in the air, she pressed into him and breathed in the familiar scent of soap and sawdust on his shirt. With all the work God had done in her heart during the past two weeks, she hadn’t known what it would feel like to see Connor again. Although the sting of rejection still lingered, it didn’t consume her as it once had.

  When he loosened his grip, she stepped away from him.

  “Did you do all of this?” he asked, motioning to the floors and the walls.

  She shrugged. “With some help from Herschel.” The work had been arduous, and every house payment would be a struggle for a while, but she had put enough sweat and tears into the house that it was worth saving. “Did Herschel tell you I was still here?”

  Connor shook his head. “Not exactly, but I figured it out. I thought you had gone back to Florida.”

  She pursed her lips together and then took a deep breath. “I was going to go back.” She looked up at the ceiling and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “But when I accepted Jesus, everything changed.”

  Connor closed his eyes, and when they opened, the edges glistened. “I prayed so many prayers that you’d be able to trust Him.”

  Somehow Laura knew that Connor had been praying for her. She knew he had never given up on her. “I don’t belong in Florida anymore, Connor.”

  Connor tipped his chin down and rubbed his hand across it. He slanted his eyes up at hers. “Does that mean you belong in Wyatt Bend?”

  She shrugged. “I’m going to teach some art classes at the retirement center, and I’ve gotten a few more jobs around town.”

  “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

  Laura’s heart hadn’t been ready for what Connor had to say to her. “I needed some time to think about things.”

  Connor stood before her with a mixture of strength and vulnerability. “Where does that leave us?”

  “I don’t know.” Staying in Wyatt Bend was as far as she had figured things out, and for the first time, that was okay. She didn’t need to know all the answers. She simply needed to believe there was a greater plan. A smile spread across her face. “But I can’t wait to find out. I’ve missed you.”

  He slowly took the paintbrush from her hand and set it on a drop cloth on the dining room floor. He took both of her hands in his. She tried to control her trembling. She had missed his steadiness. “I’ve had some time to think about things, too.” She forced herself to look into his eyes as he spoke.

  “I cherished you from the moment I met you.” His eyes were full of tenderness. “I should have done a better job of showing you that. I made so many mistakes. I should have been honest with you. If only I could redo everything, take away all your pain.”

  Warmth rushed through her, and she shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

  Connor closed his eyes. “What are you talking about? What about all the tears?”

  She squeezed his hands. “I understand now. It was all part of a bigger story.”

  Connor put his hands on her head and pressed his lips against her forehead.

  Laura looked up into his warm eyes. “It all led to this moment with you.”

  Epilogue

  Laura had spent months planning every detail of the winter wedding. Clear Christmas lights and fresh evergreen garland wove in and out of the porch railing of Laura’s home at Canyon Crossing. Once guests walked inside, the scent of the pine mixed with the sweet scent of bouquets of calla lilies. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

  Laura knocked softly on the wooden door of the upstairs guest bedroom to check on the bride who faced the floor-length mirror in the corner
of the room.

  “You look absolutely beautiful,” Laura said to Bonnie.

  Even through her signature glasses, her eyes sparkled. The neat curls crowning Bonnie’s head were accented by the rosebud behind her ear that matched her pale-pink suit.

  Laura leaned against the wall beside the mirror. “How do you feel?”

  Bonnie beamed a toothy smile and lifted her shoulders to her ears. “Overjoyed. I can’t believe I’m about to be Mrs. Herschel Long.”

  Laura leaned down to give Bonnie a hug. “I couldn’t be happier for you two.”

  Bonnie squeezed her shoulders. “It will soon be your turn.”

  Laura stepped back and twisted the diamond engagement ring on her finger. Her own wedding dress, which Rachel had redesigned from the dress in the attic, hung in the closet downstairs.

  Bonnie looked around the room. “Mr. and Mrs. McCormick would be so proud of what you and Connor have done with this home. It looks as beautiful as it did when they lived here.”

  Laura smoothed the shoulders of Bonnie’s jacket and handed her the bouquet of lilies. “We couldn’t have done it without Herschel’s help.”

  After another hug from Bonnie, Laura walked down the refinished stairs and through the crowd gathering in the entry. She searched through the ground floor for Connor. Surely he and Herschel weren’t out in the barn getting sawdust on their wedding attire.

  She pulled back the curtains to see Connor on the porch swing, looking handsome in his dark suit with the flower she had pinned to his lapel. She slipped out the front door into the cold December air.

  Even his eyes smiled as she walked toward him. Laura said a quick prayer thanking God for Connor and their future together in Wyatt Bend.

  She was in awe of what God had given her. She no longer lived in fear of God leaving her or rejecting her. He was faithful.

  Laura had given up on striving to be perfect, and instead she had found a perfect peace from God.

  Without a word, Connor slipped his suit jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. She nestled up against his warmth and intertwined her fingers in his.

  CANYON CAFÉ

  Dedication

  For Amy:

  I’m blessed to go through life with a big sister like you.

  Chapter 1

  A gray haze filled the kitchen of the diner. Beth Kearn reached through the cloud billowing from the oven. The smoke pricked at her throat, and she coughed into her sleeve. She dumped the lemon meringue pie with the black crust into the trash can. The meringue tips of the coconut pie had turned to ash. The pie and its disposable aluminum tin landed on top of the lemon pie with a splat. Beth flung the pot holders onto the counter. They knocked into the plastic kitchen timer, which she’d failed to set. She rubbed her fingers across her tired eyes.

  Fat raindrops slapped against the small window at the back of the kitchen, ticking against the glass like a countdown. Time was running out. It would take her hours to finish two more pies for the grand reopening. When she was a teenager, Beth had spent every summer living with her grandmother and working in this kitchen, and she missed having Nana here working beside her. In the morning Beth would flip the sign to OPEN, and the residents of Wyatt Bend would decide whether she could live up to the legacy her grandmother had set for her at Canyon Café.

  Thankful she’d let her fifteen-year-old brother spend the night at a friend’s house, Beth opened the refrigerator door. She sighed as she pulled out the ingredients for two new pie crusts. An engine outside the restaurant revved over the wail of the storm. Beth recognized the distinct rumble of a motorcycle. This pouring rain made for dangerous riding conditions for whoever was out there.

  Beth tilted her head to her shoulder, stretching her stiff neck. She could do this. Everything would be fine.

  The front door banged, and she jumped, dropping a stick of butter. She peeked through the pass-through window to the darkness of the glass front door. The Oklahoma wind howled.

  Beth took a deep breath, but the air was thick from the burned pies. She closed her eyes. It was simply her frazzled nerves playing with her imagination. If she ruined the pies again, she wouldn’t get any sleep before her big day.

  The rumble of the motor roared from the alley behind the restaurant. Beth froze. Someone cut the engine, and Beth struggled to discern the sound of footsteps through the raindrops.

  Her heart thudded as she took her cell phone from the stainless-steel table in the center of the kitchen. Her fingers shook as she scrolled through the numbers on the phone. Jimmy would be on duty at the sheriff’s office. Her old friend would come check it out for her.

  He answered his cell phone after one ring.

  “Sorry to call so late,” she said, forcing the tremble from her voice.

  “No problem,” Jimmy said. “It’s been slow here tonight. What’s up?”

  Beth stared at the back door. “Maybe the storm has me spooked, but I’m hearing things in the alley behind the restaurant.”

  “You don’t have to say another word,” Jimmy said. “I’ll be right there.”

  The line went silent before she could say anything else. Living in such a small town had its benefits, including calling the deputy sheriff’s cell phone.

  Thunder boomed, sending Beth’s heart into her throat. She squeezed her eyes closed, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. The metal door leading to the alley rattled. She opened her eyes in time to see the doorknob twist.

  In an instant, Beth wrapped her fingers around the handle of her favorite chopping knife and crouched behind the table. Her thoughts flew in every direction, but she stayed glued to the rubber mat on the floor, hidden behind the stacks of mixing bowls on the bottom shelf.

  She flinched when the door swung open. Why had she decided she was too busy to stop and lock the door behind her brother when he left? The rain beat a loud rhythm against the cement outside the restaurant. A figure moved out of the sheet of rain into the kitchen and pushed the door shut behind him.

  Beth held her breath. Every muscle in her body tensed. Through the stacks of mixing bowls, she caught a glimpse of a man in a black motorcycle helmet. Droplets of rain beaded on his leather jacket and obscured the clear shield covering his face.

  Adrenaline raced as quickly as her thoughts. If he planned to rob her, the only thing in the register was enough cash to make change the following day. She hadn’t even had enough money to replace the old appliances.

  As his boots stepped closer, a thick lump blocked her throat. He turned away from her and reached his hands to the helmet. A groan echoed through the kitchen as he pulled the helmet from his head.

  Beth gripped the handle of the knife tighter, muscles poised for flight. Slowly he circled the table. Beth’s eyes darted toward the kitchen door in case she needed to make a run for it. Just as he came around the corner, she looked up, and the breath rushed from her lungs. The wavy blond hair and strong features brought back a flood of memories and forced a slight gasp between her lips. “Brendan?”

  His face jerked down to her, and he stumbled back, almost slipping on the puddle that had formed from the rainwater dripping off his clothes. When their eyes locked, his widened like he’d seen a ghost—the ghost of his past.

  Beth didn’t know which was worse, an intruder or her ex-boyfriend?

  The cold reality of Brendan’s past had slammed against him with more force than the thunderstorm outside. Cold raindrops dripped from his hair and rolled down the side of his face. He had returned to Wyatt Bend to face his past, and God certainly hadn’t wasted any time.

  Beth scrambled to her feet. “What on earth are you doing breaking in here in the middle of the night?”

  The summer after Brendan’s senior year of high school, he’d spent almost every day in this kitchen. Seeing the lights shining through the pouring rain had appeared like a lighthouse leading him home. “I didn’t break in. I needed a place to get out of the rain.”

  She glared at him, but all he could do was
smile. Even more beautiful than he remembered, Beth wore jeans and a white T-shirt. The ends of her short golden hair flipped in toward her heart-shaped face. He would have hugged her, but judging by the suspicion on her face, she might have slugged him.

  She threw her arms out toward the door. “So you snuck in the back door?” Beth asked, her voice building.

  Brendan hadn’t expected to arrive in Wyatt Bend so late, but he’d spent three hours fixing his motorcycle on the side of the interstate. “I tried banging on the front door.”

  Beth’s mouth pursed. She rested her hand under her throat. “I thought it was the storm.”

  Brendan’s gaze fell on the long knife in her hand. He laughed. “So your plan was to stab me with that thing if I was a burglar?”

  Beth set the knife on the counter. “If I needed to.”

  She still had the same spunk she’d had fifteen years ago. He laughed and ran his hand across the old flat-top grill. Walking through the door of the kitchen felt like stepping back in time. The place sure hadn’t changed much. “So you still work here?”

  Her hands sprang to her hips. “I own the place.”

  When he walked in the restaurant, he’d expected to see Ethel baking pies, just like she had when he was a teenager. He could use some of Ethel’s advice right now. “You bought it from your grandmother?”

  The corner of her lips turned down. “I inherited it.”

  His heart felt like an anchor in his chest. He had loved Beth’s grandmother like his own. She’d doled out wisdom he had desperately needed as a teen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Beth’s eyes narrowed. “How could you have known?”

  The weight of the words lingered over them. When Brendan left Wyatt Bend without any warning, he’d never looked back. “When did she pass away?” The emotion vibrated through his voice.

  Her eyes moved down to her red Converse sneakers. “Almost a year ago, but she had been sick on and off for a while. The restaurant hasn’t been open since they found the cancer.”