A Place Called Home (A Place Called Home 1)

by Lori Wick

  “Come here, Christie, come and kiss me.”

  “You’d better kiss him, Christine, or Silas is going to end up feeding all those horses by himself.” Grandma Em spoke matter-of-factly as she brought up jars of fruit from the basement.

  Luke looked barely patient at the interruption but Christine was highly amused. She sauntered out from the kitchen to the parlor. “I’ll walk you to the door.” Her eyes told Luke she felt victorious.

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  “Bye, Gram.”

  “Bye, Luke.”

  “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?” They were at the front door and Luke was buttoning his coat.

  “Pretty and clever, both,” was Christine’s sassy reply.

  Luke threw back his head and roared with laughter. Christine never failed to delight him. Long after he kissed her goodbye and headed home, he was still laughing.

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  “Do you have the ring?”

  “Yes, Luke. For the third time, I have the ring.” Silas was calm as always, a steady rock in the storm.

  “Did Julia get all of Christine’s things moved in?”

  “Last night. Christine will bring the last of her things after the ceremony.”

  “Does the house look okay?”

  “It looks fine.”

  “Listen, Si. I’ve been thinking, and I just don’t feel good about you staying with Grandma Em. This is your home. I don’t want to do anything that will make you feel unwelcome. I know Christine feels the same…”

  “Luke!” Silas’ raised voice stopped Luke’s tirade. He never shouted and Luke stood speechless.

  “I do not feel that you and Christine are kicking me out of the house. It was my idea and it will only be for two nights. I’ll be back Monday. Luke, you are bringing your bride home tonight and it’s her I’m thinking of. The two of you need time alone together, if only for a few days, to start off your marriage on the right foot.” Silas’ voice was more firm than Luke had ever heard it.

  Luke was grateful for Silas’ words and nodded his agreement.

  “Besides,” Silas spoke as they headed out of the house, “you’re only going to have her until Monday. Come Tuesday morning, she’ll get one look at my hairy face and go screaming from the house.” The men laughed at the long-standing joke and the tension evaporated.

  The 2:00 o’clock sun was shining brightly overhead as Silas mounted his horse and Luke climbed into the cutter. They had a wedding to attend.

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  “How does it look?”

  “You look beautiful,” Julia said earnestly.

  “I look ten feet tall in all white,” Christine replied with dismay. Julia and Susanne dissolved into giggles; both women agreed they had never seen a more radiant bride.

  The women were in Grandma Em’s room, and with less than an hour to the 3:00 o’clock ceremony Christine looked about to come unglued.

  “She needs to see Luke,” Julia said softly.

  “I need my grandfather.” Tears filled Christine’s eyes as she spoke. “He should be here, to give me away. And Paul-Paul wasn’t able to come, and that’s not right.” She was becoming frantic.

  Christine did not notice Sue leave the room. But she was back momentarily, and with Grandma Em. She and Julia left them alone.

  Upon seeing Grandma Em, Christine burst into tears. Grandma Em, drawing wisdom from every one of her 70 years, said nothing-not a word about teardrops on her wedding dress or how close it was to 3:00.

  She knew Christine had slept poorly last night and had eaten nothing today. She also remembered how her own father had been too ill to walk her down the aisle and how devastated she had felt over this.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Christine finally choked out. “I love Luke and I want to marry him. I just don’t know what’s wrong.”

  Grandma Em gently pulled Christine to the desk chair. She then moved the rocker close and began to pray. “Dear Father, help Christine. Please draw her near to Your throne, where she can find comfort and rest for emotions she herself may not even understand. You know of the love she and Luke have for each other. Calm her nerves and give her a peaceful heart to go down and marry the man she loves. If, Lord, there has been blindness, and Luke and Christine are not to be wed, please put Your hand down and prevent

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  this marriage. Speak to Christine’s heart so she will know Your will. We give this day and its glory to You. Amen.”

  Grandma Em sat quietly as Christine dried her face. “Would you like me to go get Luke? You know he’ll come in an instant if you ask him.”

  Christine looked at the clock. 3:10. “Do you think he’s upset with me?”

  “No. Probably worried, but not upset.”

  Christine took a deep breath. “Will you please send Silas up in about five minutes?”

  “I most certainly will. Do you want help with anything? Maybe Julia should come back up.”

  “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Gram.” Grandma Em didn’t miss the use of the nickname that her grandchildren used. She hugged Christine and nearly glowed with happiness as she left the room.

  Christine stepped before the full-length mirror. Her hair was still in place, swept up in curls atop her head.

  Her dress was snow-white satin. The skirt was full and gathered at the waist. Puffed sleeves at the shoulder fit snugly along Christine’s arms and buttoned tightly at the wrist. The satin on the bodice was overlayed with handmade lace that ran in a V from the nipped-in waist to a high, stand-up collar. The same pearl buttons that buttoned at the wrist ran full length down Christine’s back.

  Luke loved Christine’s hair and had asked her not to cover it. Christine was taking a close-up check for signs of tears when Silas knocked.

  Silas kissed her cheek before offering his left arm. They paused at the top of the stairs. “Are you okay?”

  Christine nodded. “Thanks, Si.”

  Luke stood in the parlor awaiting his bride. The urge to go to her had been nearly overpowering, but Grandma Em had told him that all was fine and that Christine would be down in about five minutes. He didn’t care that the ceremony hadn’t started on time or that the kids were getting

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  squirmy; he just wanted to see Christine and know she was all right.

  The relief he felt upon hearing the rustle of her dress on the stairs just before she came into view was poignantly sweet.

  Nothing could have prepared Luke for the vision of Christine in her wedding dress. He could only stare. Christine’s eyes searched his out and the rest of the room faded from view.

  Christine remembered little of the ceremony. She would always cherish Luke’s eyes as he said “I do,” the pressure of his hand holding hers, watching his hand slip the ring onto her finger, and their first kiss as man and wife, tender and warm.

  Mark and Julia had stood up with them. Pastor Nolan performed the ceremony while Mrs. Nolan played the piano. The parlor was filled with family and friends from church.

  The reception was well under way. Gram, Julia, and Sue had prepared a feast. When Luke and Christine were finally seated, their plates full, Luke asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Just an attack of nerves. Are you angry?”

  “Furious,” Luke stated with a smile.

  The time flew by, and before long everyone was at the front door waving and shouting blessings and good wishes to the newlyweds as the cutter bore them away.

  The horse’s fast pace and the gusty wind made conversation nearly impossible. Christine was starting to feel chilled as they reached the house.

  Christine was picked up and carried into the front room of the ranch house, then set down and a lamp lit before either person uttered a word.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Cameron.”

  Christine’s face glowed with happiness. “I like the sound of that.”

  Luke handed Christine the lamp. “Go get warmed up while I take care of the horse.”

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  Christine stood still a few moments after the door closed behind Luke, smiling at her surroundings.

  With the lamp in one hand and a small suitcase in the other, Christine headed toward the hallway that led off the dining area.

  Luke’s room, and now hers, was halfway down the hall and at the back of the house. It was a huge room with a massive four-poster bed, a matched set of wardrobes, and the largest bureau that Christine had ever seen. In one corner, having been stoked that afternoon, burned a wood stove, making the room comfortably warm.

  Julia had shown Christine through the bedrooms the week before. She ran her hand over the beautiful quilt on the bed. Luke’s mother had made it-a mother-in-law that Christine would not know personally, but only through Luke’s words and her handiwork here and there in the house.

  Christine opened the wardrobe door. Seeing her things hanging beside Luke’s gave her a feeling of contentment. She heard a door close and knew that Luke was back.

  Luke followed the light from Christine’s lamp and found her in his bedroom, their bedroom. Upon entering, Luke closed the door and leaned against it.

  Christine was still in her wedding dress, her hair coming loose around her face. Luke was in his dark suit and crisp white shirt, so tall and handsome. Husband and wife stood in silence regarding each other. Luke spoke from his place at the door.

  “Christine, it’s been a long day. I know you’re tired, and if you’d rather…” Luke halted as Christine moved toward him, her heart swelling with love at how thoughtful he was of her well-being.

  When she stood directly in front of him, all she could think to say was, “I love you, Luke.”

  Luke understood and drew Christine to him, hardly able to believe that a man could be so happy and blessed.

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  Theirs was a love sprung deep from within, willing and able to stand the test of time, come what may, with Christ at the head of their home.

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  Never would Luke or Silas have believed they could be so spoiled so quickly: baked goods in abundance, hot meals served, coffee always waiting on the stove, the house spotless, and clothes always clean-all brought on by Christine’s presence.

  Christine was a morning person, and Luke’s only complaint was that the warm person beside him all night was not there most mornings when he awoke. But the warm kitchen and hot coffee could not be faulted.

  For nearly two weeks Christine laughed at the sight of her new brother-in-law first thing in the morning. Silas would try to act as grumpy as he looked, but Christine only laughed harder and he gave up.

  Every Thursday Christine spent the day at Grandma Em’s. Christine insisted upon coming back once a week to help out. There had been a battle, but Christine won.

  “You’d think I was 100 years old the way you’re acting.”

  “I do not think you are 100 years old. I know very well you’ll be 71 next month, but that’s beside the point.”

  “But, Christine, you have your own house to take care of now!” Grandma Em said as she tried a new approach.

  “My house is not going to suffer the one day I come to see you. Now, what day shall we make it?” Grandma Em was stubbornly silent.

  “All right! I’ll pick a day myself. Thursday. I’ll be here Thursday morning at 8:00.”

  “Less than a month you’ve been married, and she sounds just like you,” Grandma Em said accusingly to Luke, who was sitting quietly on the couch, watching his wife in battle.

  Luke opened his mouth to defend himself, but Christine broke in. “Luke has nothing to do with this. It was my idea, and I will not change my mind.”

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  Grandma Em could see she was not going to win this battle, but she was not about to give in gracefully. “Is your salary to be the same as before?” Grandma Em asked innocently.

  Christine was out of her chair in a flash and standing, arms akimbo before her husband. “Talk to her! Tell your grandmother I will be here on Thursdays to give her a hand and if she gives me one cent, I’ll burn it!” This said, Christine stomped into the kitchen. Luke and Grandma Em listened a minute as she banged and slammed around preparing some coffee.

  “How do you really feel about Christine coming?”

  “I’m delighted to have her.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Luke said, his eyes twinkling. “You really shouldn’t have teased her. You got me in trouble.”

  “That was the best part!” Grandma Em replied as she headed to the kitchen to make her peace with Christine.

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  Using the back of her hand, Mrs. Hall brushed a fallen strand of hair from her face. Her eyes fell on a small slip of paper sticking out of a stack she was reading through. 284539. She contemplated the odd set of numbers for a time before setting the paper aside.

  Sunday was no time to be going through the study at the Bennett residence, but she was drawing close to the end and was anxious to be done. Her fingers went to her temples and she rubbed gently. 284539. What an odd combination of numbers. Combination! The safe! Mrs. Hall reached quickly for the paper. She had nearly forgotten the safe.

  Mrs. Hall went to a small wood cabinet that sat inconspicuously behind the desk below the two windows. The door opened easily to reveal the black safe within.

  Mrs. Hall looked again at the numbers in her hand and then knelt on the floor. The first two tries with the dial were unsuccessful, but on the third attempt she heard a click. Reaching carefully for the handle, she turned it and pulled.

  Her heart was pounding as she swung the door open. She rose quickly and moved the desk lamp close. A musty smell hit her nose when she resumed her place on the floor.

  For a moment she touched nothing, but she held the lamp high and peered within the small cavern of the safe. A large, yellowish bundle of papers caught her eye and she reached for it.

  Mrs. Hall recognized Joshua Bennett’s own handwriting on the first page. It took the weary housekeeper some minutes to realize she was reading a will-Joshua Bennett’s last will and testament written in his own hand.

  With sudden clarity Mrs. Hall was transported back through time: “… she will receive the house and stables along with the rest of my holdings. In the event of her

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  death, the inheritance will go to my partner, Vince Jeffers.” Carl Maxwell had read those words in a quiet, almost apologetic voice.

  What a blind fool she had been! To be sure of her theory, she quickly scanned the pages in her hand. There was not a word about Vince Jeffers. Nearly everything was left unconditionally to Christine.

  Mrs. Hall struggled up from her cramped position on the floor. Donning her coat and hat, she quickly grabbed up the incriminating papers and rushed for the front door.

  “I think we should eat at 7:00. How is that for your families?”

  “Sounds fine,” Julia answered.

  “No problem that I can think of,” Susanne said, then added, “Pending as always Mark’s work. We’ll just bring Grandma Em with us.”

  “Julia, are you going to do the pies?” Christine asked.

  “I’d planned on it. I put up jars and jars of peaches, and that’s her favorite.”

  “Okay, Sue’s doing a chocolate cake and I’m covering supper, so I think we’re all set.” Christine would have said more, but the moment Grandma entered the kitchen, the three women stopped talking.

  When the silence lengthened through Grandma Em washing a spot on her dress, she became suspicious. “Why do I get the distinct feeling I was being discussed?” Grandma Em asked while approaching the table.

  The women knew she had to be told, but they hated to spoil her Sunday. In their hesitation, she figured it out for herself.

  “Oh, you girls! You’re planning something for Friday, aren’t you? I told you last year there would be no more parties, but you didn’t listen. You need to be spanked and I’m going to go get your husbands.”

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  Christine looked a bit thunderstruck, but Julia
and Susanne had heard all this before.

  Within minutes Mac, Luke, and Mark entered the kitchen. Julia stood and gave Mac her chair. As she expected, she was pulled down into his lap as soon as he was settled. Mark stood behind Susanne, his hands resting on her shoulders. Luke took the chair next to Christine after moving it close beside hers.

  “Where are the children?” Sue asked. “Emily is out for the count on the sofa and the boys went out to play with Silas,” her husband answered.

  “And Gram?”

  “She headed upstairs after telling us you three were in plot against her.”

  “You must have been discussing Friday,” Luke guessed, since he and Christine had already talked it over.

  “Is it true she says no more parties every year?” Christine wanted to know.

  “Just about, but she loves them and always has more fun than anyone else.”

  “By March, when the cold weather feels like it’s never going to end, everyone is in need of a party.”

  The six adults talked around the table for awhile. When Christine heard one of the boys run by outside and Silas call to him, she commented absently and to no one in particular, “I wish Silas were in here with his wife.”

  It was a subject that had crossed everyone’s mind at one time or another.

  “Has Si said anything to you, Christine? About wanting a wife, I mean?”

  “No, not directly, or even indirectly, for that matter. It’s just that at times he looks a bit lost and lonely. I didn’t mean to make you cry, Julia.” Christine felt bad.

  Julia shook her head in mute apology over the display of tears and Mac said, “It’s not your fault, Christine. Some people are born with an overabundance of tears. Julia has

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  enough for six people.” Everyone laughed at this, and the spell was broken.

  They continued to talk and make plans until Elizabeth began to complain about an empty stomach from the cradle in the parlor.

  Soon everyone broke up to return to their own homes, the prospect of a party on Friday buoying everyone’s mood.

  “I need to see Mr. Jeffers.” The sheriff in Spooner spoke as soon as the housekeeper allowed him into the entryway.