Grooms with Honor Series, Books 10-12

by Linda K. Hubalek

  Faye stared at her husband a minute before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close for a kiss, right in front of all of them.

  “Thank you, Rusty. I adore you for thinking of buying the house for me, but I don’t want to move. Our daughter has married, and the boys have moved into the bunkhouse. Now we have a cozy home, just the right size for the two of us.”

  The red flush creeping up Rusty’s face was embarrassing, but Tully knew what the man was feeling. Tully wanted to be alone with his wife too.

  “All right. I’ll send Westin a telegraph right now to say he is not to come here. I don’t need the loan and Violet has already married Tully,” Rusty stood up again with a mission.

  “But we also want to tell you my job before you leave, Rusty,” Tully said as he squeezed Violet’s hand again for reassurance.

  “I’m sorry. I guess in Dan’s passing and my worry, I didn’t ask what church you’d be at. I hope it’s close by so we can see you and Violet often,” Rusty answered, finally calm again.

  “We’re traveling to Wyoming,” Tully announced, cringing at the gasps of all four parents.

  “Why so far away? Surely there’s a church closer than that,” Faye asked, worried she’d never see her grandchildren?

  “Well, I’m surprised, but then we moved from Ireland to Kansas,” his father patted his mother’s knee. “Maybe we can take a train trip to Wyoming next year, Kaitlyn.”

  “I’d like that, Patrick. Now that all our children are grown,” his mother grinned.

  Wait until they hear the rest of my news.

  Tully said a silent prayer first.

  “Except for occasional ceremonies I might do by happenstance, I am not going to serve at a church.”

  Tully could have dropped a sewing pin on the floor, and it would have loudly echoed in the silent room.

  "I’ve been hired by the Chicago Tribune to be their travel writer. My first assignment is to travel to the new hotels in Yellowstone. Later in the year I’ll travel to the national parks in California, explore them, and send articles and photographs back to the newspaper.”

  “Excellent! Congratulations on your job, Tully. It’s perfect for you,” his father beamed, totally knocking Tully off balance.

  “Excuse me? That’s not what I thought you’d say. I’m not following in your profession. Why aren’t you upset?” Tully asked.

  “You weren’t happy training horses at the ranch. Isaac offered you the chance to go to the seminary, to get you away from here. Then you’d either decide to use your training or find something else that really interested you.”

  “You wrote an excellent eulogy, Tully, but I can’t wait to read about your adventures. This job of travel and writing is perfect for you,” his mother added, surprising Tully.

  But maybe not. His parents had always been supportive of all six of their sons, whether they were born to them or adopted.

  “Is this what you want, Violet, to travel with Tully as he explores parks?” Rusty asked.

  Violet laughed. “Between all the Tucker and Brenner kids, I was always the most excited when the Cross C sold cattle to other ranches, and we’d trail the cattle to their new home. I loved camping out, no matter how many days, so I look forward to Tully’s trips.”

  “Will you have a home somewhere or are you going to live out of your tent…and carpet bags all the time?” Faye asked, still in shock from Tully’s news.

  “We thought Clear Creek would be a good place to visit between trips,” Tully explained.

  “Will the job pay enough to support you, especially if you have time off between trips?” Rusty asked, concerned if Tully could provide for his daughter.

  “Yes, the newspaper will pay me a salary besides my living expenses while on assignments. The only expenses we’ll have are Violet’s transportation tickets and any extra clothing we’ll need for our travels.”

  “And when you get tired of traveling, or you start your family and want to settle down?” Rusty still had questions.

  “I have my training as a pastor to fall back on, or I may want to write for a living, be it for a newspaper or a book publisher,” Tully was finally confident he could provide for Violet and their children.

  Rusty turned to his wife. “Faye, any other questions for the newlyweds before I send a telegraph to Mr. Westin?”

  “No questions, but we do owe them an apology for separating them overnight. We pulled the ‘bride’ away from the ‘groom’ yesterday, Rusty. You can imagine how you would have felt if that was us, even if it was nineteen years ago,” Faye said in her blunt way.

  Was his or Rusty’s face redder? Probably Tully’s since their parents didn’t know the real story of their wedding night—or lack of it—given they didn’t know if they were indeed married or not.

  “As an apology, please let me pay for your room at the Paulson Hotel while you are home,” Rusty quickly threw out the suggestion.

  Tully was thrown off balance. They didn’t know if their marriage was valid, so neither he or Violet had mentioned sharing a room at the hotel, or the parsonage while they were home. And there was no way he’d stay in Violet’s childhood cabin with the lack of privacy there.

  “If you’re serious about maintaining a home base here, you might check with Nolan Clancy about the furnished apartment above the café. No one is renting it at the moment. It would be small but inexpensive,” Tully’s father suggested.

  “The apartment would be perfect. At this point in your marriage, you only need a place to stay while you’re visiting, and a little space to store what belongings you won’t take with you on your trips,” Tully’s mother added.

  Tully had been in the apartment multiple times when Cully lived there. It had been improved over the years when it was first an open storage area above the café.

  How had they gone from just talking on the apartment steps about marriage to the place possibly becoming their home?

  Chapter 8

  “What do you think, Da? Are we married or not?” Tully asked his father as Violet and Tully sat in his church office.

  Violet’s parents had finally agreed to travel home, leaving her with Tully after Violet said they’d come out to the ranch for supper to talk more about their surprise announcement.

  But first they needed to figure out if the signed certificate was official.

  Pastor Reagan blew out a breath and rubbed his forehead. “You have a marriage certificate signed by all parties. The state in which a couple is married holds the record of that marriage. After the ceremony, did you, or your friend, go to Chicago’s City Hall to record your marriage?”

  “We didn’t before we left for Clear Creek,” Tully answered his father, “and I doubt Rollie did either.”

  “And I assume it wasn’t recorded at the Chicago church you attended either?”

  “No reason to. Pastor Bonner of the First Methodist Church had nothing to do with the ceremony,” Tully said.

  Pastor Reagan sat up in his chair and looked at Tully, and then at Violet.

  Violet’s heart sank, knowing what the pastor was going to say.

  “Well, your marriage needs to be recorded in Chicago, within the length of time they require, or you need to repeat your vows, with the proper filing this time, be it Kansas or elsewhere.”

  Tully blew out a breath, rubbed his neck, but didn’t reply to his father.

  Oh, dear. Was he rethinking his hasty marriage proposal to her now? If they weren’t married, he could travel without her tagging along.

  “Tully and Violet, you need to start over. Have a serious talk about what you see yourselves doing in a month, a year, ten and twenty years in the future. Think about the wedding vows and how that affects both of you if Tully plans to travel, for a while, or for years.

  “When your children are school age, will you settle in a town for their education or teach them yourselves wherever you’re living, be it in a cabin or tent?

  “Tully, would it be best if you travel alo
ne part, or all of the time? Violet, what would you think of raising your children by yourself while Tully is states away?”

  “Maybe I better get a church job then,” Tully sighed, looking downright deflated, at the thought.

  Although that would be better for their future family if Tully gave up his dream profession, would he eventually resent her?

  “Maybe I should marry Horace instead,” Violet tested Tully.

  Tully rubbed his face and didn’t look at her. Was that his way of agreeing with her?

  Violet quickly stood up, needing to get away from the tension in the room.

  “I’m going back to the ranch, Tully. If you feel like discussing this matter any further, ride out tomorrow and we can talk then,” Violet said, trying not to scream and cry at the same time.

  But Tully stayed in his chair rather than trying to stop her.

  “Violet, I’m sorry. I…don’t know what to do right at this very moment.”

  “It’s been an emotional day with Dan’s funeral and all the other revelations,” Pastor announced. “I think it would be good for you both to spend time with your families for a day or two, and then plan to meet after that. You are making a lifetime decision, so you need to carefully consider what is best for both of you.”

  Violet stood with her hand on the door handle, pausing a second, hoping Tully would jump out of his chair and pull her in his arms, professing his love.

  “I’ll ride out tomorrow,” Tully muttered, with barely a glance at her over his shoulder.

  “If you wish,” Violet said in her best-schooled voice. She straightened her back and left the room with as much dignity as she could. How could things go so wrong with a few questions from Pastor Reagan?

  Because she and Tully hadn’t discussed those important decisions in their silly haste to declare themselves married to their parents and take off for Wyoming.

  Chapter 9

  Tully left the church office shortly after Violet. He wasn’t in the mood to hear additional advice—or lecturing—from his father about the mess he’d made of his and Violet’s return to Clear Creek or their hasty futures.

  He was an adult, but no one thought of him as grown up. Okay, he was feeling like the youngest preacher’s kid again, and right now, all he wanted to do was sulk about it.

  Where could he hide for a while? He didn’t want to go home to hear his mother’s advice—or scolding— depending on her thoughts on his situation’, and he was sure she had several.

  As a kid in trouble, he’d head to the café. Washing dishes for Dan and getting the reward of cookies, and a few words of wisdom from the man, always set the world right again. But Dan was gone now.

  But as Tully mulled his problems, his feet had automatically taken him to the back door of the café. The back door was open, with the screen door in place to let the breeze into the usually hot kitchen. Other than Nolan, the place seemed to be empty now. Nolan was sitting at the table with probably his fourth or fifth cup of coffee for the day, mulling over the rapid events that had happened in less than two days.

  Tully thought about leaving the man in peace, but he felt compelled to give him company. He tapped quietly on the screen to get Nolan’s attention.

  Nolan’s waved his hand to come in.

  “Thought I’d check to see if you needed any dishes washed? I could use a handful of cookies,” Tully joked, which brought a smile on Nolan’s face.

  “I’ve always wondered how many hundreds of dozens of cookies Gramps and Grandma baked over the years for all the kids who sneaked in the back door of the café,” Nolan said, nodding toward the earthenware crock on the edge of the kitchen counter. “The jar can’t hold more than two dozen cookies, but it was always full, no matter what time of day.”

  Tully lifted the lid and peered inside. He was sad and disappointed, it was empty.

  “Even now when… no, before Gramps died...he’d wash one glass or cup, then fill his personal coffee cup, take two cookies from the jar, and then sit down at the work table. I kept the jar filled for him.”

  “Not for kids needing work and food?”

  “Oh, I still keep the jar stocked, but we don’t have kids in the back all the time like when I was young.”

  Tully thought back to when he tagged along with his older brothers. With the six Reagans, Nolan, Gabe, and Tate Shepard, and a few other boys they ran around with, this kitchen was always packed with extra people.

  “How did your grandfather get any work done with all of us kids underfoot in here?”

  Nolan laughed. “He put us to work. Besides washing mounds of dishes, you know how to cook eggs several different ways, right?”

  “Yes, from poached to fried.”

  “And how many pounds of potatoes did you peel sitting in the same seat you’re in now?”

  “Ha! Probably hundreds. I can’t believe how he used us. And how much he taught us too,” Tully finished. “I came home assuming your grandpa would be here as always.”

  “Life can change in an instant,” Nolan said, as he took another sip from his cup, eyeing the cookie jar again.

  “Thanks for doing the service for Gramps. I couldn’t help but think he was watching the whole event from heaven. Sitting in his rocking chair, coffee cup in his hand.”

  “I was humbled and proud he asked, even though I was shaking in my boots until I started. Then, it seemed like the words just came to me, probably because I’ve sat in church for every funeral service my father performed.”

  Tully thought of the funeral services where the church was packed with people, or the Reagan family were the only mourners present. His father said someone always had to be in church to pay respects to the deceased, even if the person had no family of their own. And after the graveside prayers, it would be he and his brothers who filled the grave with soil they’d just removed before the service.

  No wonder Tully hadn’t had any problem performing Dan’s service. His father’s profession extended to his whole family. But would it be enough to continue as his life’s profession? Tully was comfortable with preaching, but the idea of doing something different just pumped up his soul.

  “I hear you’re heading north, Tully, as a travel writer?”

  Tully blew out a breath. “Yeah, but I’m questioning my decision. Maybe I should stick with my schooling and find a church that needs a pastor.”

  “It’s your call. Remember that. It’s your decision. I joined the military for a while. Needed to get away from home, and I’m glad I did.”

  “Even though you eventually had to come home to take care of your grandparents and their café?”

  “That time away made me into a man, and was how I found Holly, my wife,” Nolan smiled, apparently thinking of his spouse.

  In his case, should he take a wife with him? Whether it was to travel, or to a new parish? Tully really couldn’t think of life without Violet by his side.

  “Go with what your gut tells you to do, Tully. That’s what kept me safe while I was a soldier, and why I stepped in to help Holly at a little café when I was snowed in in a little Montana town.”

  The problem was, Tully’s head, and heart had different thoughts than his gut right now.

  One thing for sure, he didn’t want to live in the parsonage anymore.

  “I heard the apartment upstairs the café is available? I’m not sure if I want to rent it a week or long term yet though.”

  “Yes, it is available. How about you use it until you decide what you want to do, and we’ll talk about renting it after that?”

  “Thanks, Nolan. I’d appreciate it. I can’t think of my future while sleeping in my old room in the parsonage.”

  “I can believe that, no offense to your folks,” Nolan said as he stood up and took a key off a hook inside the pantry door.

  “It’s been closed up a few weeks, so I’d suggest you go upstairs now and open the windows to air it out before you settle in.”

  “Again, thanks,” Tully said as he stood to walk
out the back door.

  “The back door is always open to you, Tully,” Nolan answered, but it made Tully pause for a second. Nolan used the same words Dan had always said when Tully left the café kitchen.

  Tully had been in the apartment many times in the past because his brother, Cullen, had lived in it a few years before marrying Rose and moving into a home a few blocks from downtown.

  He hesitated walking up the steps now though, thinking of his recent proposal to Violet and confrontation with his brothers.

  Tully purposefully stepped where Violet had sat, needing to move on from that situation to get upstairs. He took a full breath when he reached the top, slipped the key in the lock, opened the door, and walked in to check the apartment.

  Tully opened the two windows that faced the alley to dispel the stale air, then walked through the three rooms that made up the dwelling.

  The main room was a combination of living, dining, and kitchen areas. Besides the settee and a rocking chair, the room held a drop-leaf table with four chairs, a two-burner wood stove, and open shelves for kitchen dishes and supplies. The one bedroom had a bed, dresser, and wardrobe. A tiny separate washroom was just big enough for a washstand, commode, and a galvanized tin bath tub.

  Yes, this would work for the time being. And what about in the future if he needed a place to stay to write, between assignments? The few windows in the apartment didn’t give abundant light inside, but he could always go down to the library to write if need be. He loved the bright light that radiated from the library windows. Of course, part of the cheerfulness of the library came from the librarian, his sister-in-law, Rose.

  Rose had traveled around the country as a circus performer as a child, whereas his brother, Cullen, had never ventured out of the state. Cullen’s job as a postmaster had connected him to Rose, a mail-order bride. An unusual act of fate pushed Cullen and Rose together.