Hope Rekindled

by Tracie Peterson

  Rob couldn’t help but turn back to Mara. He lowered his voice. “I know I don’t mind.” She blushed, and Rob thought it only added to her beauty.

  After breakfast Rob followed Mara to the summer kitchen and watched in silence as she went to work. He marveled at her ability to create a thing of beauty out of cake and icing. She was skilled in so many things, and it only served to remind Rob of what a good wife she’d make.

  “You’re mighty good at that. ’Course, I haven’t seen much you ain’t good at.”

  Mara looked up and smiled. “I have my flaws same as everyone. I just happen to enjoy baking and decorating cakes.”

  She squeezed some icing in a scalloped pattern. “Say, aren’t you supposed to be helping with the benches?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get out there to help soon enough.”

  The time seemed to fly by and before he knew it, Rob realized she was finishing up. And as she did, he knew it was time for what he’d truly come home for. He’d thought about this moment for a long time—and truth be told, he hadn’t figured it would happen over sugared roses and icing. But his mind was made up. Pulling a ring from his pocket, he took hold of her hand and pulled her away from the cake. Dropping to one knee, he held up the ring like an offering.

  “Mara Shattuck, will you marry me?”

  Her mouth dropped open in stunned amazement. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on her face. “Didn’t you think I meant it when I said I love you?”

  She nodded and tears filled her eyes. “I knew you meant it. It’s just . . . well . . . I wasn’t expecting this. Not today. Certainly not here.”

  He frowned. “I hope I didn’t disappoint you. I just couldn’t wait any longer. I’ve been wantin’ to make it official ever since I came home. It’s the reason I was late gettin’ in. I was buyin’ this ring and missed the train.” He stood and placed the ring on her finger. Drawing her hand to his lips, he kissed the ring in place. “I pray you’ll never take this off.”

  Mara stared at her hand for a moment. Without warning she hugged Rob close. “I’m so happy. Of course I’ll marry you. I’ve always known I would marry you.”

  He laughed and lifted her face to his. “I’m glad God let you in on it first. If He’d told me, I’m sure I would’ve just made a mess of things.” He kissed her ever so gently.

  “I have work to do,” she said, pulling back just a bit. “It’s nearly eight o’clock. I have to finish up here and then change my clothes for the wedding.”

  “What do you mean change? You’re beautiful, and that gown is quite fetching.”

  She laughed. “And dotted with bits of frosting and sugar. I have something else to wear to the wedding. First, however, I need to put the last of the roses in place.”

  With great reluctance, Rob released her with a sigh.

  She gazed down at the ring on her finger. “Leave me. Go help the men. I can’t seem to concentrate while you’re in the same room.”

  Rob laughed, but nevertheless headed for the door. “I reckon that’s only fair. You distract me all the time when you’re not even in the same room. When I’m reading the Bible, I think of you and how blessed I am that God gave you to me. When I’m studying how to help folks, I can only think of how much you’ve helped me. You’re never far from my thoughts—even when we’re in chapel, singing—”

  “Robrecht Vandermark, you need to go . . . now.” She pointed to the door. “This minute.”

  “I’m goin’. Mercy, but you sure can be bossy.” He turned at the door and grinned. “I reckon we’ll need to think about settin’ a date for our weddin’.”

  She glared at him and picked up a wooden spoon and hurled it at him. Rob only laughed and quickly ducked from the room. Yes, sir—this was shaping up to be a fine, fine day.

  Deborah could scarcely breathe as Lizzie finished cinching her corset. “Not too tight,” Mother admonished. “We don’t want her swooning before she says ‘I do.’ ”

  Lizzie let the ties release just a bit, then secured them. “Besides, she doesn’t need much corseting. I think she’s lost weight since this dress was first made,” her friend declared. “Probably just in this last week. I don’t think I’ve seen you take more than a few bites of food at any given meal.” Lizzie brought the bustle and quickly tied it around Deborah’s waist.

  Deborah’s head was spinning with concerns. “Oh, Lizzie, Mother—I pray I’m doing the right thing. I’m so anxious that I won’t be the wife Christopher needs. I don’t know anything about raising children, and Jonah and Emma are still so young.”

  Lizzie continued dressing her while Mother took hold of her shoulders. “Deborah, I want you to listen to me. God has a future—a wonderful future—for you and Christopher. Never doubt it, and don’t bring it grief by worrying about what might or might not be. I had hoped Christopher would mention this to you first, but I think I’d better say something to put your mind at ease.”

  “What?” Deborah asked hesitantly.

  “Arjan and I asked Christopher if we could take over guardianship of the children. He was very positive about the idea. He knows how attached Emma and Jonah have become—especially to me. The older boys are very fond of Arjan, and whether they want to be formally adopted or not, we want to raise them. I’ve even shared letters with your aunt Wilhelmina. She is open to the idea of Jimmy coming to stay with her and attend university. That just leaves Darcy. She’s a mighty independent little miss, much as you were, but I have a soft spot in my heart for her, as well.”

  Deborah looked at her mother in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say. I can hardly . . . well . . . I presumed in marrying Christopher that I would also . . . well, in a fashion, marry his siblings, as well. I figured mothering them was a part of my promise for better or worse.”

  Mother put her hand to Deborah’s cheek. “There will be time enough for you to be a mother. Be a wife first.”

  “If we don’t get her in this dress,” Lizzie said, holding up the wedding gown, “she’s going to have to get married in her undergarments.”

  Both Deborah and Mother giggled at the thought. Deborah savored the release of tension as she imagined walking down the aisle in her petticoat and chemise. That would definitely get tongues wagging for years to come.

  Raising her arms, she let Mother and Lizzie settle the gown over her head. Deborah was surprised by the coolness of the fabric. The morning had dawned bright and beautiful, but the air felt dryer than it had in days and the silk slid against her skin like a breeze. Perhaps the mild temperatures were a wedding gift from the Lord.

  Lizzie did up the thirty-some tiny back buttons and stepped aside when Mother brought the veil and headpiece. There hadn’t been time to get waxed orange blossoms, but Deborah didn’t care. Her mother had fashioned a circular crown of white roses and ribbon, and the dress was perfect even without the extra adornment. After carefully arranging the veil on Deborah’s beautifully styled ebony hair, Mother leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Your father would be so proud. You are a beautiful bride.”

  “I wish he could have seen this day,” Deborah whispered.

  “I do, too. He would have loved Christopher. He’s just the kind of man your father would have hoped for you to have as a husband.”

  Deborah grasped her mother’s hands. “I love him so.”

  Mother smiled and nodded. “I know you do. And I know that he loves you. Just remember that with God, there is nothing you cannot overcome. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger, and always be willing to forgive and try again.”

  “I will do my best,” Deborah replied. “I promise I will.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Lizzie went to open it. “We’re nearly ready,” she told Arjan.

  Deborah looked to her uncle-stepfather. Dressed in his only suit, he looked very dapper. He’d seemed quite honored when she’d asked him, instead of G.W., to give her away.

  “I reckon it’s time,” he told the ladies. “The bridegroom
is gettin’ mighty antsy.”

  “He’s waited this long,” Lizzie chided. “He can cool his heels just a little longer.” She smiled at Deborah. “Best he learn how to wait patiently, eh?”

  Deborah had never known a man with more patience than Christopher. She couldn’t imagine that he was all that concerned with the time. He knew she would be his by the end of the day, and that they would have the rest of their lives together.

  Mother pulled Deborah’s veil in place to cover her face, then Lizzie helped Deborah into delicate white lace gloves. With this accomplished, Lizzie handed Deborah a bouquet of pink and white flowers that Sissy had put together.

  “Sissy said she prayed over each flower as she picked and arranged them,” Lizzie said. “She said to tell you that you should let these flowers remind you never to fret about what you’ll wear or eat. Consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. God doesn’t forget them, and He certainly won’t forget you.”

  Deborah looked at the flowers in a new light. What a precious blessing. Mother pressed a fine white lace handkerchief into Deborah’s gloved palm.

  “This belonged to my mother and her mother before her. We’ve each carried it on our wedding day, and I’m hopeful you will continue the tradition. My mother told me that this handkerchief is for tears of joy and sorrow. The two mixed together represent all that a good life offers—for without the times of struggle, we cannot truly appreciate the times of rest. Without the moments of pain, we do not realize the blessing of its absence.”

  Deborah nodded. She was afraid to speak for fear she might cry. She caught her reflection in the mirror and was startled. She couldn’t help remembering that she’d felt this same way on that day, two months earlier, when they’d been making the final adjustments to the gown. She felt like a queen, all garbed in silk. It was all the more special because this was the gown, albeit remade, that her mother had worn to wed her father. It was more precious to Deborah than she could ever express.

  Arjan came to her side. “You make a beautiful bride, Deborah. I’m right proud to give you away.”

  Deborah tucked the handkerchief around the flower stems and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Thank you. I’m so blessed.” She looked to her mother and then to Lizzie. Drawing a deep breath, she smiled and gave a nod. “I’m ready.”

  They made their way downstairs and out the side door. When she’d dreamed of this day, the wedding service had always been in a church with hundreds of people in attendance. But instead, it was in her mother’s own beautifully cultivated yard with just a few friends and family. Yet Deborah forgot all about that when they rounded the corner and she saw Christopher standing beside Pastor Shattuck.

  She felt light-headed as G.W. nudged him and Christopher caught sight of her for the first time that day. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. He loved her. It was all she could do to keep from running to cross the distance. A nervous giggle escaped her at the thought. What would they all say if she hiked her skirts and dashed for the porch steps?

  “Are you all right?” Arjan whispered.

  “I’m fine. I’m just fine.”

  Deborah caught a whiff of honeysuckle from the bush near the porch. In a flash of blue and white, Emma and Darcy came rushing around the corner of the house. They looked quite dainty and stylish in their new gowns.

  “Is it time?” Darcy asked, looking up expectantly. “Emma and I are all ready.”

  “It’s time,” Lizzie told them.

  Jacob Wythe stood at a distance, obscured from view by the trunks of longleaf pines. He’d told himself he wouldn’t come to the wedding. He’d convinced himself that it wasn’t something he should do—that he would only regret it and cause others pain. And still, he couldn’t help himself.

  He’d very nearly convinced himself to leave when he caught sight of Deborah coming from the side of the house. He couldn’t take his gaze from her.

  She might have been mine, he thought. He watched Lizzie and Mrs. Vandermark fuss with the skirts of Deborah’s wedding gown while Arjan patiently waited until the women finished.

  Two young girls came bounding up as the wedding party reached the front yard. Jake supposed they were the doc’s sisters that he’d heard so much about from Jimmy and Tommy. They danced around Deborah in their excitement.

  He remembered days long past when he had known a family’s joy and celebration. Everything had changed with the drought and his father’s decision to sell the ranch. If he’d only been able to hold on a little while longer, he might have found himself in a good position after the horrendous loss of the previous winter. Many Texas ranchers were making good deals on their cattle because of the thousands of head lost to the blizzards.

  Jake watched Deborah for a few more minutes and realized that his sense of loss wasn’t in her—but in her family. He wanted to be a part of something. When his family headed to California, it was as if he’d lost his history.

  “Why did I stay?” he questioned, shaking his head. He remembered the anger he’d held toward his father. He’d argued with the man for not having the courage to stand fast through the drought. Jake sighed. He’d put up a wall of separation with the only two people he truly needed in his life. Maybe, he thought, it was time to apologize. He could send a telegram to California. The idea encouraged him. He cast one final glance at Deborah and smiled. She was beautiful. Kind and loving. She’d make a good wife—just not his. And for the first time in many, many months, Jake felt that he could accept and live with that fact.

  Do you, Deborah, take this man, Christopher, to be your lawfully wedded husband—” Pastor Shattuck threw her a smile—“to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish?”

  Deborah looked through the fine netting of her veil and nodded. “I do.”

  Christopher, having already agreed to the same, took hold of her hand. He carefully removed the glove and slipped a simple gold band onto her finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.” His gaze rose to meet hers, and he tightened his hold on her hand. “May it be a symbol of all that we’ve pledged today.”

  She fought back tears of joy and managed a nod. Pastor Shattuck closed the Bible. “It is my joy to pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Christopher lifted the veil. He smiled at her. “We finally managed to see it through,” he teased. Then with great tenderness, he drew Deborah into his arms and kissed her.

  Deborah heard the applause and shouts of congratulations, but it was Christopher who held her attention. “I love you,” she whispered as he pulled away.

  “Good thing, too, for I love you with all my heart.”

  “I think this was the perfect setting for your wedding,” Lizzie said, handing Deborah back her bouquet.

  “I agree,” Pastor Shattuck said. “Perhaps my next church will have some lovely gardens in which I can marry folk.”

  “I’m hopin’ your next wedding will be mine and Mara’s,” Rob declared, coming to congratulate Deborah. He looked to Mara’s father. “Thank you for giving us your blessing.”

  “So it’s official now?” Deborah asked.

  Mara held up her hand and revealed the small pearl that adorned a simple gold band. “He asked me this morning.”

  Mother seemed nearly ready to dance at the news. “And have you set the date?”

  Rob and Mara exchanged a glance. “No, but we’ll work on it,” Mara replied. She motioned to the table where Sissy and Mrs. Perkins were already helping to ready the food. “A great deal of work went into this feast, and I suggest we celebrate.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Arjan declared. “I’m very patient, but that roasted pork is hard to ignore. The aroma just about caused me to make a scene.”

  The gathered well-wishers laughed at this comment. Christopher, however, appeared to feel the same way. “Let us lead by example, Wife.” Mara came to Deborah’s side and w
hispered in her ear. Deborah smiled and nodded.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make. Today we are not only celebrating my wedding, we are also celebrating my brother’s birthday.” She looked at Rob and her smile broadened. “Surprise!”

  His expression was one of confusion. Glancing to Mara and his mother, Rob shook his head. “But it isn’t my birthday.”

  “It will be soon enough,” Mara declared. “You’re the one who forced us to move up the date.”

  Deborah crossed to where Rob stood. “And if we’d waited until the actual day, it wouldn’t have been a surprise. Now come along and let us celebrate.”

  Christopher joined his wife and gave her a wink. “I’m gonna waste away if we don’t get to eating soon.”

  Everyone laughed, but Deborah’s expression was serious. “I suppose you only married me for this feast.”

  He chuckled and leaned close to her ear. “If you would allow me some privacy, I’d explain in great detail why I married you.”

  “Dr. Kelleher!” she exclaimed, pulling back. “Mind your manners.”

  He only laughed and took hold of her arm. Deborah allowed him to guide her to the main table. Arjan and the others had put together several tables to accompany the newly made benches. Mother and Lizzie had, in turn, covered those with tablecloths.

  “I’d much prefer privacy . . . with or without food,” Christopher whispered in her ear.

  Deborah felt her face flush. She looked toward the ground to avoid anyone seeing her embarrassment. Christopher hugged her close, then assisted her onto the bench. She worried that her wedding gown would be snagged by the wood, but someone had thoughtfully put a small covering on her seat. Her bustle neatly collapsed as she took her place. Deborah carefully arranged the skirt of her gown to allow Christopher room to sit at her side.

  The party spirit grew as the minutes passed by. Zed Perkins shared stories about his wedding day, including his last-minute stop on the way to the church to shoot a ten-point buck.