by Virginia Rue
“Enough, Sarah. Do you hear your own bitterness? Can you acknowledge that you are judging her harshly? You may be telling truths, but should you be telling them at all? You know better. That is not our way, Sarah. If you can’t be forbearing because you are different than she, then you can at least be empathetic, as you will both feel much the same.”
‘At least all my layers in this ‘get-up’ will give me something to sit upon,’ Sarah thought to herself, not yet feeling enough humility to give up the resentment she felt.
Isaac didn’t blame his wife for feeling that way. He understood her dislike for Mrs. Green. What he was disciplining her for was the fact that it showed. If Clayton and Alexis were to have happy wedding day memories, both mothers needed an attitude adjustment.
Not wanting to embarrass his wife by having Clayton come in on them, he drove the big black van into the barn at Green Acres. The vehicle was plain and multipurpose. It had the capacity for nine passengers as well ample cargo space behind the last bench. Once parked in the barn, Isaac, always the gentleman, went around and opened his wife’s door. She stepped out and followed him around to the back of the van. He then opened the double doors and invited her to bend over. Standing behind the bumper, she leaned in the van and placed her hands on the floor.
“Elbows to the floor Sarah. Bend over further.”
She obeyed without a peep of protest as he worked up her coat, dress and slips by the dim dome light of the van. Down to her handmade bloomers, he considered leaving them up against the cold. After a brief hesitation he whisked them down. She’d be warm enough in a moment.
Sarah stood there with her knees knocking, and not from the cold, while he took his time removing his belt. She listened as the buckle clinked and then the noise ceased once it was held firmly in his palm. Steeling herself against what was coming, she stilled her trembling legs for a moment until Isaac held the belt with both hands, folding it into shape with a loud crack. Sarah jumped up as if she’d felt it, though he had not even begun.
“Keep both feet on the ground and both elbows on the floor there, Sarah.”
“I will, sir,” came the meek reply from under the layers of clothes now thrown over her head. The smug grin she wore a short while ago was gone from the humbly bowed and tearful face under the sea of up-flung fabric.
Satisfied with her position, he began reinforcement of her new disposition. Quickly he striped her backside from cheek to thigh. She began dancing around, no longer able to keep still. He wasn’t finished with her just yet. Dropping the belt into the van, he wrapped his left arm around her waist, drawing her tightly to him and continued spanking with his right hand. The leather driving gloves protected his palm from the sting while adding to the effect on her end. She was holding still pretty well now, so he spanked her harder. Then she began to struggle, so he admonished her for not keeping still and spanked her harder yet. By the time he had her fully sobbing and holding still again against the worst of it, he felt like his arm might fall off. But, Isaac had particular ideas about how to know when a spanking was sufficiently done. Releasing her and picking up the belt again, he gave a few hard cracks. She remained still.
“Do you think you have proper rein of your tongue now, Mrs. Yoder?”
“Yes, sir I do… I’m sorry I let her upset me so that I acted no better than she… It won’t happen again.” She choked out her tearful admission in between sniffs.
“That’s my bride. You may stand up now.”
Ever so carefully, Sarah stood and stretched her bloomers back over her punished behind. She turned and kissed her husband with a quick peck on the lips, and then with skirts still lifted, she walked out of the barn and sat down in a snow bank.
Epilogue
As Freshly Driven Snow
Church bells rang through the town as big fluffy snowflakes began to fall. By the time the church was full, a fresh coat of white painted the town and countryside. Everything looked brand new. It was a new year. Alexis and Clayton were beginning a new life together. Margo and Sarah had brand-spanking-new attitudes toward one another. Calla and Bruce doted upon one another like newlyweds, remembering their own wedding day not very long ago. Everyone noticed a newly blossoming romance between the grey haired couple in the second row. Bud Spears put a comforting arm around Grace Cowen as she shed bittersweet tears in remembrance of her own wedding day in that very church. So much had changed since Bruce’s dad passed away, but life in Walnut Bottom was continually renewed. Many shared in tears of joy as the old organ began the familiar old wedding ballad, turning all eyes to the new bride, making her way on her father’s arm, down the ancient aisle of matrimony.
Clayton stood at the alter looking like the very picture of the stoic bridegroom, having survived all the pre-wedding struggles and not letting jittery nerves get the best of him. Then, as she came closer, no longer looking from side to side at her guests, and laid that radiant smile upon him, he melted. A few tears escaped the corners of his eyes as he stilled his quivering chin. The sight of her, looking so adoringly into his very heart with those big dark eyes, made it flutter wildly. Knowing the two of them would be on a tropical beach, as husband and wife, by nightfall gave him the encouragement needed not faint.
The ceremony proceeded as they took the timeless vows. When Alexis repeated, “love, honor and obey” one young woman’s “humph” was silenced with Calla’s and Margo’s stony eyes.
“You may kiss the bride.”
The reverend’s voice reverberated through the chapel. Clayton just stood there for a moment holding her at arms’ length, staring into his wife’s loving face, savoring the moment. Finally taking his kiss, tenderly and reservedly at first, he then swept her off her feet and kissed her so deeply that his mother’s face blushed crimson, while the rest of the congregation cheered and clapped.
The wedding party posed for a few photographs while the rest of the crowd gathered on the church steps, poised to throw birdseed at the fleeing newlyweds. A belled and flowered horse drawn carriage took the bride and groom to their reception at the old Brass Lantern Inn. The way the snow was falling they could have ridden a sleigh.
As the realization set upon them that this might be a bigger snow than forecasted, the newlywed McBride couple took leave of their party early. They had a plane to catch. The rest of their newly joined family could spend the next week getting to know each other snowed in at the homestead, without them.
Virginia Rue
She grew up on a farm on the Chesapeake Bay where she developed an affinity for nature and sustainable living. An avid reader, she read her first books atop an old Magnolia Tree in the back yard. Virginia started writing in school and had several pieces published in periodicals for youth, but then pursued a career in healthcare. She is just now returning to her love of writing as an adult with her debut novel, Brass Lantern Inn.
Virginia’s hobbies include herb gardening, hiking and visiting various historical places. She enjoys reading historical fiction and non-fiction, mystery, suspense and romance novels.
Now living in Pennsylvania with her husband and four children, she makes the most of each day by doing a little reading, a little writing, and cooking wholesome and healthy meals for her family. Even though she has an office, most of her writing is done at the kitchen table in between chopping and stirring. Virginia still enjoys her life as a health care professional by working in elder care a few days a week, claiming that the time spent with her clients is worth far more than the pay.
Visit her blog at:
http://virginiarue.wordpress.com/
Stories by Virginia Rue:
The ongoing Walnut Bottom series including
Brass Lantern Inn
Thin Ice
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