A New Day

by Nancy Hopper

  "Tim, no! It's not right." She protested. "If I prevail, we can get married, then."

  Tim laughed derisively. "That could take years, Tasha. Our marriage is not going to depend on the outcome of some ludicrous lawsuit. He can't win, anyway."

  "Tim, you don't know him." She protested. "He's ruthless."

  "I don't give a damn!" He retorted angrily. "I'm not going to bend over for this! Tasha, if he wins, God will provide for our every need. I'm not afraid of his threats."

  "But Tim, they're afraid for my safety. They want me to go right now."

  "I'm not going to let them. Nobody is going to lay a hand on you, especially with about three hundred people present. Let's get married, and I promise you that I will be much more reasonable afterward. Tasha, will you stand with me in this? Think about this. Two people are suspiciously missing. There is a story that has been heavily aired. In your own way, you have already corroborated your innocence, by telling what happened – on television.”

  "The story came from someplace. Think about it, now. Do you really think they're going to kill you -- the key witness and the woman with the money -- at her wedding? Wouldn't that be a bit much?"

  He sighed, and let the idea sink in. "What did you say about the police files? They've been altered?"

  "They're gone." Tasha reiterated. "Just like nothing ever happened."

  "Then, the risk is even higher for them to do anything more. Everybody knows already that something happened. Your dad can probably prove that Deming paid him money, and he'll have a hard time connecting it to a business transaction that Brent has no record of.”

  “Tasha, it is a bluff!" He argued fervently. "Don't let them rob us! They calculated the timing of this lawsuit, just to hurt you. I'm sure it would give him great pleasure to learn that you had to postpone your marriage indefinitely."

  Brent stuck his head in the door. "Tasha. We are out of time."

  Tim turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Brent, get your lawyer and get in here." He snapped.

  Brent sighed, and threw up his hands. "Tim, I'm sorry, I can't. They are taking her, right now."

  "Over my dead body." Tim offered, setting his jaw and standing with arms folded. "Get your lawyer in here."

  "I was afraid you'd do something like this." Brent grumbled. "John, come in here." John came in, and so did a police officer.

  Tim turned and faced them with calm resolve. "I'm afraid that I'm not convinced that there is sufficient reason for this wedding to be postponed." He told the lawyer, before he could say anything.

  Brent and John exchanged a look.

  "It is imperative that all potential witnesses be taken into protective custody at once." John explained quickly, with a look on his face that implied any simpleton should get this. "If you care about Tasha's life ..."

  "Stop right there." Tim challenged him with blazing eyes. "Don't you even go there. It seems to me that they've already eliminated all the people they can afford to. It would cause no small stir if she were to be harmed at this most notorious wedding." He pointed out with a tinge of sarcasm.

  “They long since made their decisions on such matters. It wouldn't be Tasha, at any rate. If they killed her, all her money could be tied up legally. If they do anything to Tasha now, a settlement wouldn't be reached for years, if ever. They took care of all the people who could give them trouble, before they filed. No idiot would hurt her now." He paused to let them think about it.

  "They certainly are not going to burst into a public place and do anything to her in the middle of our wedding. My stars, the lady at the department store knows about our wedding! She heard it on television, for crying out loud!”

  "The only reason they filed this suit today, is to try to hurt Tasha by spoiling our wedding. In addition to causing her no small amount of personal pain, it would discredit her – yet again."

  "How is that?" John asked incredulously.

  "You're not going to tell the world Deming Smith is suing her, are you? Wouldn't be real smart to advertise it, do you think?"

  "Probably not." John admitted.

  "Then what is the public going to think, if she leaves me standing at the altar? That my fickle little sweetheart just changed her mind?"

  "Timothy, son. We can't take any chances with her life." Brent appealed to him. "Besides, you have so much to lose. Your ranch ..."

  "I couldn't care less about that!" Tim cut him off immediately. "I could never hold up my head, if I allowed a financial threat to keep me from my wife! Tasha is going to get dressed, and we are going to get married today. Then, we are going on our honeymoon. If you insist on our honeymoon being in protective custody, then lock us up. I promise you I won't complain as long as there's a bed, a shower, and complete privacy. But you are not taking her anywhere, until we're legally married. I'll fight to the death for it. If you're not willing to walk her up the aisle, we'll do it without you."

  The policeman looked at Brent with raised eyebrows. Brent sighed and lowered his eyes. When he looked at Tim, he was resigned. "Tim, it's up to the police, but I'll go along with you." He decided.

  John made a sound of outraged protest.

  Tim nodded his satisfaction. "Brent, I'd bet you my ranch that this suit is dropped the minute he finds out we got married. It's going to cost him way too much money to fight us! He's not going to invite the public – and legal – scrutiny this would cost him.”

  “I'll bet there are ten girls like Tasha in his closet. If we have to fight him, we'll find every one of them and convince them to testify. Believe me, he doesn't want the police going through all of his business with a fine tooth comb. He knows he can't come out of a fight smelling like anything but a skunk. He just filed the suit to assert his innocence. Maybe he hoped to convince his wife that he didn't do anything."

  Brent turned to the policeman. "What if we double security inside and out? I'll have Mason and Dwight drive them to police headquarters afterward, in my limo. Tim's right about one thing: the only way not to create a public sensation, is for the wedding to go on as planned.”

  He turned to his daughter. “Tasha, you don't get in the car with anybody but Mason and Dwight in the front seat. Do you understand? After she nodded, he turned to Tim. ”And I want you to know, Tim. If anything happens to her ..."

  "I'll be dead, Brent. They'd have to come through me, to get to her."

  The police officer chuckled, and held out a hand to Tim. "I'll bet on you, Mr. Rain." He offered with respect. "You're quite a guy. Ever think about becoming a lawyer?"

  "No." Tim denied vehemently. “Not this farm boy."

  The three men turned and left the room. When they were alone, Tim and Tasha looked at one another with amazement and humor in their eyes. They both started laughing. He kissed the end of her nose and hugged her close.

  "You get yourself dressed and you come down that aisle as if nothing in the world happened here, today." He coached her gently. "This is all a bunch of garbage, Tasha. A blatant attempt to keep us apart."

  "I hope you're right." She sighed, squeezing him tightly.

  "I am. It would be far too obvious for him to do anything today. He just hoped to scare us into canceling, so he could have a laugh. He's not stupid enough to do anything to anybody in public."

  She smiled, kissed him, and he left her there.

  Brent walked Tim back to his dressing room. "I hope you're right about this, Tim."

  Tim snorted. "I think things will be all right. But thanks for the extra security. It will make Tasha feel more confident."

  Brent shook his head. "If you weren't so damn good for her, I think I'd take a poke at you." He groused harmlessly.

  "Yeah, right. Brent, he's just grandstanding. If we postponed the wedding, he'd just find new ways to terrorize us the next time around. It's all going to come to nothing. We can't let him get away with this. If he thinks he's won this round, it will reinforce his ugly methods. He'll go right on doing rotten things to people, and getting away with them. We
have to take a stand, and let God deal with him. Let's stop him in his tracks, Brent. That's what is really behind this. He doesn't want to be accountable for what he did to Tasha."

  Brent sighed, and shook his head uncertainly. “I sure hope you're right, Tim. Because everything we've got, depends on it.”

  Tim grinned at him. “Brent; nothing depends on it. He can't take anything from us that really matters.”

  Brent looked at Tim as if he'd lost his mind.

  “Money is the least of my worries, Brent. God sees to our every need. He can do it without our financial house of cards.”

  Brent blinked. “What in the world?” he muttered.

  “If by some long shot Smith did win his lawsuit, and we lost all our financial holdings; it would mean that God had something better for us. He would still take care of us, and he would restore whatever Smith managed to steal away. There is absolutely nothing to fear.”

  Tim patted his shoulder, and went to his room to change. Brent just gaped after him. He could not even fathom the level of Tim's faith. He was humbled by it.

  James and Michael immediately jumped on Tim when he walked into their dressing room. They were dressed, and looking very tense.

  "What's going on?" they demanded. "The place is crawling with cops and private security."

  "Yeah. This is what you call a very high profile wedding." Tim teased wryly. "I'll explain later. Just keep your eyes open for any kind of trouble. Brent is afraid that someone is going to try to hurt Tasha. I had to talk like a Dutch uncle to get the wedding to go on. They wanted to take her into protective custody. Just keep quiet about it. It's touchy stuff. But I would like it if you guys would go to the back, and escort Dana and Elaine up the aisle. I don't think it will raise too many eyebrows, and then Brent and Tasha will only be alone for a couple of minutes."

  "No problem." Michael agreed. Tim didn't need to ask James what he thought of the idea. Any reason to be near Dana suited him.

  So, Tim went out front by himself and waited, looking very handsome and dashing in his black tux and crisp, white shirt. He marveled at the fairy tale land that Tasha had created.

  There was much he hadn't noticed the night before; or maybe, more had been added. White roses, netting and wired ribbons of velvet and satin created bows and garlands of impeccable beauty and taste. The string quartet in the corner gave an ambiance that was uniquely special. Forest greens gave a scent that was heavenly.

  The center aisle was covered in a white runner, and strewn with fragrant, white rose petals. Tim had to grin, and stare at his feet. Tasha was so superb that he couldn't believe it. He knew very well that she'd done it all herself, and that she'd done it for him.

  He had no idea how many eyes misted over to see him standing there looking so handsome, waiting patiently for the bride he'd paid so dearly for. If the room looked like something out of a fairy tale or dream, Timothy looked very much like the prince who belonged in it.

  He shot a look at his parents, and grinned broadly enough that his dimples showed. The photographer took a picture, and Tim winced at the light, bringing several chuckles. He felt as though the time of standing there alone, would never end.

  Finally, Dana came up the aisle on Michael's arm, a vision in green velvet, with her hair swept up into a beautiful, curling cascade with white rosebuds and pearls peering out here and there, and dainty ribbons set with twinkling, clear rhinestones to catch and hold the eye. The dress was elegant and svelte. Slender and flaring only below the knees. Dana looked like a movie star in it.

  “I still think you should ha’ given me a chance, Dana.” Michael whispered to her, in his Irish brogue. Dana just smiled, and shook her head.

  They were followed by James and Elaine, who looked equally as elegant in ruby velvet.

  Then, at last, everyone stood, and watched Tasha enter the room on her father's arm. Tim had to close his eyes for a moment to control the tears that came pouring.

  "My Lord, there is none like her." He said softly. He swore he heard a low chuckle, in response.

  She was absolutely stunning. She had to be the slenderest, most stately of brides. Her dress was all satin, but of a consistency that clung ever so softly to her curves, and glimmered like a shimmering mist with every step she took. The bodice plunged in a sweet curve, the straight sleeves formed half-gloves that covered her hands to the knuckle, and buttoned with a row of soft pearls across the back of her hands. Layers of netting slip below the knee caused the skirt to float and ripple around her feet, as if she stirred the still waters of a pool as she walked. A tiara of the finest, tiny rhinestones held her veils. A very short, rounded train followed her. Her bouquet of white Roses, burgundy lilies, pale, trailing Orchids, Lily of the Valley and ferns, was a fragrant armful, cascading nearly two full feet in front of her hands.

  As she came closer and smiled at him, Tim felt his knees go weak. She was too beautiful to be real. He felt James' hand on his back, steadying him a bit. He closed his eyes again briefly, and drew in a deep breath.

  When he opened them, Brent was ready to pass Tasha's hand to him. He reached for it, and drew her to his side. It was like being in a dream.

  Her smoky eyes were riveting, and he felt himself getting lost in them, as he told her with his look, all that he couldn't say. Then they turned, and went up to the altar to be joined in Holy matrimony.

  Tim looked up at his uncle Paul, and managed a smile. Having been with him at a critical moment, Paul understood as no one else did, the depth of hell Tim had gone through in hope of this moment. He was honored to be the one to join Timothy with his greatest treasure on earth -- his wife.

  After the wedding, Tim and Tasha went back to her dressing room to discuss how they would handle the reception, in light of the new issues the day had presented. Brent came into the room unexpectedly, with a woman on his arm. Tim raised his eyebrows, and Tasha went very pale.

  "Oh, my God." She whispered. She clutched Timothy's arm for support.

  "Hello, Tasha." The woman said. "Mr. Rain, I am Lynda Smith. Deming's wife." She added dryly.

  Tim raised his eyebrows higher, and nodded acknowledgment.

  "I am sure you are wondering why I'm here. I won't waste any more of your time than is necessary. I came to let you know that you have nothing to fear from Deming. He has dropped his ridiculous lawsuit, and he is in counseling. He knows if he stops treatment that I will leave him. For reasons I can't fathom, he doesn't want that. I am very sorry for the pain he's caused you. He knows very well that the publicity came from Pattie Danniels, and that you had nothing to do with it."

  Tasha looked like it might be too much, all at once. Tim covered her hand with his, and wrapped his other arm around her.

  "I told him that if he has a mind to sue someone, it ought to be that silly reporter." Lynda Smith went on. "However, my influence with him in business affairs is somewhat limited. I'm sorry about the timing of all this. I only found out about the lawsuit this morning. I immediately met with Deming, and we had a heart to heart.”

  “I am just very sorry that this ugliness re-surfaced; and that any of us had to be hurt by it, again." Tasha managed to say.

  "Well, Tasha; evil doesn't stay hidden. It just finds another time and place to manifest. I'm not so sorry that it's happened again, other than the effect it's had on you. Deming needs help, and now it can be dealt with."

  "He needs Jesus Christ." Tim offered quietly.

  Lynda Smith gave him a sideways look. "Whatever it takes." she answered in a hard, brittle voice.

  "He is 'what it takes'." Tim advised. "Nobody, and nothing else can root out the lusts of a man's flesh. If you will pray for him, Mrs. Smith, you will see him become the man you've always dreamed of, and known that he could be. Only Jesus can do it. The man that you fell in love with and married, is still inside Deming Smith's heart."

  Mrs. Smith looked at Tim with surprise and suspicion. "What do you know about Deming?" she asked with a derisive snort.

  "N
othing. I've never met the man. But I am seeing him, and you, in a 1957 Cadillac, when you were both quite young. And he's making promises to you, he's sharing his vision with you for taking over his father's business, and becoming one of the richest men in America. Only then, there wasn't a speck of malice in his heart. He had no idea of the things he would become willing to do, to make that vision come true. That earnest, honest man that you fell in love with is still within reach, through God.”

  "Pray for his salvation, Mrs. Smith. Jesus has promised me that He will save Deming, if you'll pray for him. While you're at it, pray for your own salvation. You two have the power and opportunity to turn everything around, but it’s going to take some honest soul searching and repentance. Pray, and God will do it all for you."

  Lynda Smith looked up at Tim as though seeing him for the first time. "Why not? We've tried everything else." She said slowly. She shook her head, as though to snap out of it. "I'm proud of you kids for not allowing Deming to mess up your wedding. I like a man who won't be intimidated. Especially, when it comes to money."

  She looked up at Tim with a bright, bold eye. "And you, young man. I wouldn't let Deming get his hands on your ranch for all the tea in China. I am quite certain that I'd be answering to God Almighty, if I did. You take this little girl on a honeymoon that she'll never forget. And don't give Deming another thought. He won't do anything to hurt anybody.”

  “This is a wedding present." She informed Tim sharply, pressing a wad of bills into his hand, and closing his fingers around it. "A personal gift. Don't you claim it on your income taxes, or I'll spank you. You be good to that girl, and I will make many contributions to your ministry." She rolled her eyes. "If Deming gets saved, I'll give you all I've got. I've learned to hate his money. I'd like to see it put to good use for a change. And I hope that … if we need help getting through this, that we can call on you." she said, almost humbly.

  “Of course.” Tim assured her.

  She smiled at Tasha, kissed her cheek, and swept out the door. Tim looked at the money in his hand, and staggered backward, paling.