Violet wiped her cheeks with her damp handkerchief as she watched Tully walk the three steps up to the pulpit.
Tully scanned the front row to acknowledge Edna and her family, his parents, and then finally locked eyes with Violet a moment before looking down at his notes.
When Tully looked up and started speaking, his voice was loud and clear.
“Daniel Clancy was born December tenth, 1810 in Suffolk County, Massachusetts, to Clarence and Blythe Clancy. He married Edna Ramsey in 1832 and celebrated sixty years together this past February. Although Dan and Edna grieved losing their only son, and their daughter-in-law, they truly treasured raising their grandchildren, Nolan and Daisy.
“Dan is survived by his wife, Edna, grandson Nolan Clancy, his wife, Holly and their three children. And their granddaughter Daisy, her husband, Angus Reagan, and their two children.
“Dan was the son of a fisherman off the coast of the Atlantic Sea, but he steadily moved west cooking for the Army and then for the railroad as it was built across the United States. The Clancy family was one of the first that settled in Clear Creek, opening the Clancy Café, in 1868.”
Violet watched people as Tully talked through his eulogy, now telling stories about the man everyone knew. Many nodded, or chuckled, depending on the tale Tully wove about the departed man’s life.
When Tully finally ended the service with a prayer, Violet realized she, and everyone else knew that Tully was an excellent speaker. So many people expected the trouble-making preacher’s son to fail, but he passed his first funeral with flying colors.
Would this first experience change his mind about being a pastor, or not?
Violet bit her lip when Holly started playing “Amazing Grace” on her violin. How could Holly play when the pallbearers were moving into place around the casket?
Probably just like Tully, because Dan or Edna had requested it.
Violet exchanged her wet handkerchief for a dry one from her reticule after the casket passed her. She, Tully, and Dan’s family still had to get through the burial in the cemetery.
*
Violet listened to the committal with a bowed head, trying to keep her composure as Edna sobbed loudly, almost drowning out Tully’s words.
Tully stopped and handed his closed service book to his mother before moving to stand at the foot of the grave.
“Lord, we praise you as Dan enters his final rest and reaches the promised land. Thank you for each memory of his life on earth as we grieve, heal, and wait to meet Dan again in heaven.”
Tully made the sign of the cross in the air above the grave.
“May the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up the light of His countenance upon you and give you peace, now and evermore. Let there be peace for Dan. Let there be peace for Edna and her family. Let there be peace for all. Amen.”
Violet watched Tully through her tear-stained lashes as he stepped back from the grave, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, probably saying a quick prayer of thanks that he got through the service. Pastor touched his shoulder and nodded toward Edna. Tully walked over to the grieving woman, wrapping his arms around her short, tiny frame. He leaned over to hear what she was saying and then smiled as he stood up to talk to the crowd in the cemetery.
“Attention everyone,” Tully called out, “Edna and her family would like to invite you all to the café for coffee, cookies, and for fellowship time. She knows you won’t all fit in the café, but please stop by for a moment anyway. Thank you.”
Violet visited with family and friends as she waited for Tully to finish talking to the long line of people congratulating him on his new career and how well he’d done for Dan’s service. Tully calmly took it all in stride. Was he pleased with his performance, and what could be his career, or was it his training as a preacher’s son that kept the polite smile on his face?
“I did it!” Tully beamed as he picked up Violet to give her a tight hug. He probably would have whirled her around too, except they were still standing in the cemetery.
“Yes, you did, Tully. I was so proud of you, and Dan would have been too.”
“Da told me I owed it to Dan for all the free cookies I ate in the café kitchen over the years. And I must admit, that logic put everything in perspective and helped me get through the service.”
“Does this mean you want to become a pastor full-time?”
Tully sobered, and Violet hated that she asked the question now. “Never mind, I—”
“No, Violet, that’s a good question to ask. I still want to do my other job, but if I can occasionally preach, perform ceremonies…I think I’d like that too.”
“Have you mentioned your plans to your parents yet?” Violet tentatively asked.
“No. Between getting ready for Dan’s funeral…and being chicken…” Tully shrugged his shoulders and looked around.
“We better walk over to the café. I heard the Paulson girls baked cookies for the fellowship time, using Dan’s favorite recipes.”
“The Paulsons better bring coffee cups over from their dining room too since the café wouldn’t have enough for the number of people who will stop by.”
“Glad I don’t have to wash dishes besides give the service,” Tully said as they walked down the boardwalk. “Dan always had a pile of dishes us boys were supposed to wash before we got our handful of cookies.”
“It is so good to be back in town, even though we didn’t get to see Dan before he…fell off a chair, stupid man.” Violet’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that!”
“Don’t worry, you’re just repeating what Edna said at least a dozen times yesterday when I was with her. It’s a wonder she didn’t bring her frying pan along and throw it at the casket.”
“What! Was she that mad?”
“No, I’m, well, kind of joking, but she did bring it up about wanting to hit him over the head for climbing up on the chair.”
“Can you imagine being married to someone sixty years? Dan and Edna were the only people I know with that long of a marriage.”
Violet knew who she’d love to be married to that long. Tully. And that brought up the telegraph she’d put in the back in her mind until the service was over.
“Tully, once we get our refreshments, can we sneak out somewhere we can talk privately? I need to tell you something before my family, and my ride heads back to the ranch.”
Tully’s face turned pale. “Is this about our supposed vows or my job no one knows about yet?”
“Both, plus something else,” was all Violet told him as they entered the noisy, crowded café.
Chapter 5
There were dozens of people who wanted to talk to Tully and vice versa, but all he could think about as they wove through the crowd to the table laden with cookies was that Violet had terrible news to tell him. He just knew it.
Someone had found out about their fake wedding. Had Violet shown it to her mother or girl cousins? Tully still wasn’t sure if it was legal or not.
But the main thing he worried about?
He’d taken a job his parents wouldn’t approve of. Tully would have to pay back Isaac Connely for the money he’d given him to go to seminary. It was only fair.
What would his parents say when Tully told them he omitted the real reason he was heading north? It wasn’t to be a church’s pastor as they assumed.
But Violet had something else to spring on him? What could it be?
“How about we pick up a cup of coffee, a handful of cookies, and keep walking out the back door of the café?” Tully said low while leaning down so only Violet could hear him.
Gosh, she’d dabbed his favorite Wild Violet Cologne behind her ear. He took in a deep breath, wishing he could follow the scent down her tantalizing throat to—
“Tully, are you sniffing me?” Violet turned to stare at him, annoyed or pleased? He couldn’t really tell.
“Well…I really like y
our cologne, Violet.”
“But this isn’t the place or time to be nibbling on my neck. Let’s go out the back door before anyone sees us leave.”
Leave? He was still thinking about her suggestion of “nibbling.”
After Tully was sure that no one was in the alley, they sat side by side on the outside stairs that led up to the apartment above the café. Tully’s brother, Cullen, had lived up there before he married Rose, but Tully wasn’t sure who lived in the apartment now. But the door and windows were closed, so Tully assumed no one could hear them talking below.
“Ahh. I’ve been looking forward to this cup of coffee for over an hour. My throat is parched from talking.” Tully took a sip of the hot coffee and took a big bite of an oatmeal cookie—Edna’s recipe—not Dan’s, when the back café door opened, and Tully’s five brothers strolled out, all eyes on him.
“Oh Lord, please protect me from the beating of which I’m about to receive…”
“Huh. I haven’t heard you utter that prayer in a long time, little brother,” Cullen said as the five men made a semi-circle around the base of the stairs, cutting off any escape.
“You did a good job with Dan’s service, Tully. We’re all proud of you,” Angus said, and the rest nodded.
Tully looked at his brothers. All their stances mimicked their personalities. Angus and Fergus, the oldest of the two sets of brothers, were in charge of the six and stood upright. Seth was quiet and leaned back on the café wall to let the others speak. Mack, taller and broader than all of them, had his hands in his pocket but was tapping his foot, anxious to start jabbering since he rarely quit talking. And Cullen, the closest in age to Tully, was the fighter of the group but he never revealed a secret. His arms were crossed against his chest.
“But I’m guessing you come out here for another reason too?”
Violet carefully rose from the step, holding the cup of coffee out in front of her, so she didn’t spill it on her dress. “I’ll leave so you boys can have a nice chat.”
“Don’t—” Tully, and Angus said at the same time.
“Please sit back down, Violet. I need some support here,” Tully touched her elbow, and she slowly eased back onto the step.
“Yes, please stay, Violet. I think you know what we’re about to ask anyway.”
“What do you want to know?” Tully asked, resigned he’d have to tell them whatever they cornered him to find out anyway.
“We thought you’d come home, bragging about your new job, but you haven’t said a peep. Don’t you have a church yet? We thought a pastor usually had a placement before they left the seminary,” Angus asked.
Tully finished his cookie and took another sip of coffee to swallow it down.
“I have a job, but it’s not what anyone would expect me to do.”
“When were you going to tell the folks?”
“Soon…or never…”
Cullen snickered, and Tully had the urge to stand up and punch him, just like when they were little, and Cullen had taunted him about something.
“Something other than being a preacher?” Angus was still the mediator.
“I thought that was your calling?” Fergus finally spoke, seriously worried now.
“No, it was not my calling, but I had to follow in Da’s footsteps because the five of you didn’t,” Tully snipped. He’d never told his brothers the reason he went to seminary, but it came out now that they questioned him about it.
The shocked look on his brothers’ faces was priceless. But Tully was worried he couldn’t handle the crushed look on his parents’ faces when they found out though. Da’s father and grandfather had both been preachers. Tully became the fourth generation of clergyman in the Reagan family because he felt he had no choice.
“Tully, I’m sorry, truly I am. I just assumed you wanted to…” Angus said, then rubbed his face. Probably feeling the worst of the five because now he was thinking as the oldest, he should have been the preacher in the family.
“We all chose jobs we liked and had talent at. You loved to sing and read the scriptures at church services, so we just thought you wanted to be a pastor like Da,” Mack tried to make sense of his choice of being a carpenter.
“We all sang and read in church, cleaned the church, and dug graves. But that didn’t mean I wanted to do it for the rest of my life,” Tully argued.
Violet leaned her shoulder into his. “It’s okay to tell them what you are going to do, Tully.”
She was right. Tully needed to tell them, and then his parents.
Soon…or never…
“I didn’t want to use all of Isaac’s money if I didn’t have to, so I worked at the Chicago Tribune part-time. I was a reporter, writing articles for the newspaper.
“They offered me a job as a travel writer, and I took it.”
His brothers looked at him and each other as if they didn’t know what to think.
“A travel writer does…what?” Mack asked.
“Travels where the newspaper wants him to go. Writes stories describing the area or attraction, takes photos and mails it all back to the editor to publish.”
“Ma said you were heading north, but she thought you meant a church somewhere in northern Kansas,” Angus prompted him to confess.
“No, a little further north for my first assignment. I’m going to Wyoming to stay in and write about the new hotels in Yellowstone, the Lake Hotel and the Fountain Hotel.
“After a stop at home, I’m going west to explore the new national parks which opened a few years ago in California, the California Sequoia National Park, the Kings Canyon, and the General Grant National Park.”
“You’ll get to photograph the giant sequoias? I’d love to do that!” Fergus exclaimed, and Tully grinned knowing Fergus was excited for him.
Now for the rest of his family to accept his job.
“I still plan to use my pastoral training as I travel. Preach in remote areas I come across that don’t have churches in town. Conduct weddings, baptisms, and funerals. I like the ceremonies, but I don’t want to be tied down to a congregation, at least not yet. I want to write, but not for a sermon every week.”
“And I hear the passion in your voice and see it in your eyes for this career, that I’ve never seen for anything else,” Seth finally spoke. Seth would know because of all the talks they’d had when living together on the Straight Arrow Ranch training horses. Besides talking to Seth, Tully would confer with the horses he trained too, telling them what he disliked and liked about his life.
Wanting to ride a horse to see what was out there beyond the next hill, the next county, the next state…maybe that had been where he started his dream to explore and write.
But he’d relented to go to seminary. But if he hadn’t gone to school in Chicago, he wouldn’t have worked at the newspaper, which turned into his dream job now.
“Thanks for filling us in on your job. Now tell us about your and Violet’s upcoming wedding on Saturday? Violet’s father got a telegraph about it yesterday, so the cat’s out of the bag.”
Violet dropped her cup, and it rolled down her dress, sloshing coffee as it traveled down on the ground. Good thing her dress was black.
“I…had not had a chance to tell Tully about the telegraph yet, Angus,” Violet confessed as she reached for her cup.
“Telegraph from who? About what?” Tully asked while his heart thumped wildly.
“A Horace Westin sent a telegraph that he’d be at your wedding on Saturday,” Angus gave Tully more information.
“What? Why would he be coming to our wedding?” Tully asked
“No. I thought Horace meant he was coming to marry me,” Violet interrupted Tully.
“How can he marry you when you showed him our wedding certificate?”
Angus coughed.
Oh, Deuteronomy. Tully forgot he and Violet weren’t alone.
Tully looked up to see his five brothers now lined up in front of him, arms crossed, feet spread wide. He better defuse the
situation before it accelerated.
“Okay, here’s what happened,” Tully started in a rush.
“At the reception for our class graduation, someone had a marriage certificate there, just to show everyone what it looks like. Our friend, Rollie, performed the wedding ceremony as a joke, using Violet and me as the bride and groom. We said the vows, kissed, and signed the paper. End of story.” Tully threw up his palms in surrender.
“Anyone else sign the paper?” Angus asked, knowing more people normally signed it.
“Rollie, and two witnesses.”
“And Rollie is a full-fledged minister now?”
“Um…yes.”
“Then you are married. And how does this Westin fit in the picture?” Mack asked.
Violet took a deep breath and looked up at his brothers. “Mr. Westin is an older gentleman we know through church. He wrote to my father, asking permission to court me. We were just acquaintances at church, and I brushed him off. Westin continued to…pursue me, so I showed him our marriage certificate to prove I was not available,” Violet concluded, but she didn’t look up.
“So, you think he’s coming here because…” Angus rolled his index finger, indicating to spill the rest of it.
“When I got home, Papa said Mr. Westin had also written to him to ask for my hand in marriage, and my father wrote back giving his consent. Now, because of the telegraph, I assume Westin thought our wedding certificate was fake and plans to wed me when he arrives here on Saturday.”
“Anybody else confused besides me?” Mack asked the group.
“You know you could clear up one question by showing Da the certificate. If it’s signed by you two, a clergy and two witnesses, it’s probably legal, but he’d know for sure,” Angus continued, ignoring Mack.
“But, do both of you want it to be a legal marriage? The wedding vows are sacred, and they last until one of you dies. Period,” Fergus added.
“Have you consummated your marriage?” Seth asked.
Oh, Geeze.
“Uh…” Violet stuttered, turning beet red. “I might have told Mr. Westin I was with child as another reason he couldn’t marry me.”
Grooms with Honor Series, Books 10-12 Page 8
