Maggie's Strength

by Kimberly Grist

  B.J. lifted his bowler hat and smoothed his hair. “Your brother hates me.”

  “Don’t be silly. My brothers are protective of me is all.” Maggie’s face flushed. “It must seem strange to you especially since you were raised an only child. I know my family can be a lot to handle. It’s certainly more peaceful when we eat at your family’s house.”

  “Your family is boisterous, but I enjoy their company. They love you and being with them makes you happy.”

  “Between all the noise and Mama’s stories, I’m surprised you returned for dinner at all.” Maggie glanced up at B.J. “But you don’t act as though it bothers you.”

  “Your mother is captivating.” He patted her hand.” I enjoy hearing her tales, especially when they contain details about you. She creates such a beautiful word picture I can envision you with your blond hair in pigtails chasing after your brothers.”

  “I had a wonderful childhood.” Maggie studied the slight lift in his lips. “But I hope my brothers don’t make you too uncomfortable.”

  “Anytime I can be with you I’m happy. Even if it means having six men the size of grizzly bears staring at me through dinner.” The dimple appeared on the side of his mouth.

  To think I used to think of him as stoic. Maggie laughed. “They’re all show and no bite and as sweet as kittens”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” He shook his head. “But I sure don’t plan on doing anything to test your theory.”

  Chapter 18

  The following week, B.J. steered the buggy around the bend close to the area where the creek met the river. “My father and I used to come here about once a month to do a little fishing. My mother would set up a picnic under the oak trees. There are several boulders flat enough to use as a table.”

  Maggie stared at the flow of the crystal water. “Mama said I’ve been here before when I was younger, but I don’t remember. It’s even more beautiful than you described.”

  He clucked at the horses and stopped in a flat area underneath a group of massive trees and descended from the buggy. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

  Maggie’s skirts swooshed as he placed his hands on her waist and swung her down from the buggy. B.J. retrieved the picnic basket and reached for her hand. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I hope this will be the first of many visits you and I will make.”

  Maggie glanced at her feet. Her dark eyelashes presented a stark contrast to her blond hair, and her cheeks, sprinkled with tiny freckles, gave her a playful look. “I’d like that too.”

  B.J. unfolded a checkered tablecloth and laid it on a boulder while Maggie unloaded the basket. “It’s like a small icebox.” Maggie lifted the lid of the container to find it lined with tin.

  “That’s the way it’s advertised as well. My mother ordered it several years back for my father to take with him when he made his rounds out in the country. She said it was her way of making sure he had a hot meal.” B.J. chuckled. “But it keeps things fairly cold as well.”

  “What will they think of next?” Maggie unloaded ham sandwiches, potato salad and pickles, tin cups and a container of lemonade.

  After eating their lunch, B.J. laid the checkered cloth on two massive branches of an oak tree that formed a perfect bench and reached over the river. He lifted Maggie onto the perch. A soft breeze blew and the water babbled a melodious sound beneath her feet. She sighed, “what a perfect spot.”

  B.J. handed her a package covered in brown paper.

  “What’s this?” Maggie pulled on the string that covered the bundle.

  “Well, why don’t you try and guess. Better yet, why don’t we play twenty questions?” B.J. sat next to her. His legs touched hers as he leaned back against the tree.

  “Well, the first question one might ask I can already answer. It is most definitely not an animal.” She ran her finger along the package. “As a matter of fact, I feel certain it is manufactured.”

  “Quite right.” B.J. positioned his arm around Maggie.

  Her eyes widened, but she relaxed against him. “Is it a book?”

  “Right again.” B.J. leaned closer. A faint aroma of roses surrounded her.

  Maggie’s smile reached her eyes. “Is it a book we’ve discussed?”

  “Not exactly,” B.J’s offered his best Cheshire-cat smile as she tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips.

  “What kind of answer is that?” Maggie’s eyebrows drew together.

  He touched her mouth with his finger. “I can’t stand to see you look miffed. Therefore, I will give you a big hint. This book was discussed by many this past winter.”

  “A Christmas Carol?’ Maggie’s eyes sparkled.

  B.J.’s mouth opened, then closed. “No.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “I thought for certain that was it.” She rested her hand on his arm. “Can you give me another clue?”

  He cleared his throat. “The book you’re holding inspired a recent event that we all took great interest in this past winter.” He held up one finger. “And it has nothing to do with Christmas.”

  Maggie rested her hand on the package and repeated. “Something we all took an interest in this winter?”

  B.J. responded with a big gusty laugh. “I thought for sure that would give it away. I see I need to give you even more information. But I warn you if you don’t guess this time, I will be highly offended.”

  Maggie’s cheeks turned pink. “I’m terrible at this game.”

  “Nonsense.” He grinned. “The recent event had to do with an investigative reporter who, among other things, tried to reenact the trip described in this novel.”

  “Nellie Bly?” Maggie covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I knew how much you enjoyed discussing her articles. Not only her asylum exposé but her excursion around the world. I thought it would be fun to read Jules Verne’s book.”

  “Around the World in Eighty Days?” Maggie threw her arms around B.J.’s neck.

  He held her close and spoke into her ear. “If I’d thought this would be your reaction, I would have bought this weeks ago. My mother suggested Pride and Prejudice.”

  She pulled back and wrinkled her nose. “This is much better. I’ve wanted to read this for ages.”

  “Now you can. I was hoping you and I could do so together?” He reached for a lock of hair that framed her cheek and wrapped it around his finger. “That is, if you think you would like to?”

  “I would enjoy it very much.” She smiled coyly.

  Their lips met. “I love you so much, Maggie.”

  “I love you too.” She gave him a watery smile.

  B.J. ran his finger along her cheek. “As much as I enjoy holding you in my arms, there’s something I want to ask you. And I intend to do it properly.” He jumped from their perch, put his hands on her waist and placed her next to the tree. “Magdalene Elizabeth Montgomery, will you make me a happy man?” He knelt on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

  "Yes.” Maggie whispered.

  B.J. slipped a heart-shaped ring set with a ruby surrounded by a cluster of split pearls onto her finger. "I noticed how so many of your designs include hearts. And since you have stolen mine, it seemed the perfect way to seal my promise to love you the rest of my life.”

  Chapter 19

  Six weeks later

  “Keep your eyes closed. Mama and Lois are coming with the veil.” Maggie’s sister, Molly, sniffed. “I can’t believe my baby sister is old enough to be married.”

  “And I can’t believe how nervous I feel. I’d like to peek before we put on the veil.” Maggie’s heart pounded and her hand went to her stomach

  “Go ahead then.” Molly swiveled her around to face the full-length mirror. “You look beautiful.”

  Maggie swallowed hard and ran her hand along the pink gown covered with a lace overlay. Her skirt swirled as she spun around and glanced at her reflection over her shoulder. Thanks to Lois’s alterations, the dress fit perfectly. “It seems unbelievable, this dr
ess once belonged to my birth mother. I wish I could remember her.”

  “Your parents would have been so proud of you. Just like me and Papa. We consider ourselves blessed to be the parents God allowed to raise you.” Tennessee stepped forward carrying a lace veil. Her green eyes filled with unshed tears.

  “You all had best stop or we’ll look like a bunch of watering pots and scare the men to death.” Emma entered the room carrying Maggie’s bridal bouquet fashioned from her birth mother’s Bible wrapped in lace. In the center a white ribbon surrounded a cluster of silk roses.

  Emma rested a hand over her rounded belly. “They’re already as jumpy as a bunch of white-tailed jackrabbits. “I’m not sure if it’s because Maggie’s marrying today or the fact they are surrounded by her friends, who look as though they could deliver at any moment.”

  “Papa and every one of my brothers told me they’re happy with my choice and that we’ll be living so close.” Maggie laughed when Lois sank onto an upholstered chair. “So if they’re nervous, I believe y’all are the culprits.”

  “As long as this baby holds out until the wedding is over, I’ll be happy.” Lois grinned.

  Tennessee draped the veil carefully on Maggie’s head. “To think both my daughters will be married and still live in such close proximity. Now if I could just find wives for those boys of mine, I would be content.”

  Molly positioned the headpiece, fashioned from white satin, and secured the veil. She slipped a lace handkerchief stitched with tiny flowers in her sister's hand. “This will be your something blue and borrowed. I carried it at my wedding.”

  “That’s it then. I think we have everything covered. Something old is my mother’s dress and veil, the something new is my slippers.” Maggie pulled up her skirt to display her pink pumps. “And there’s a penny in my shoe.”

  “Yes, and you know what they say, ‘Mondays are for wealth and Tuesdays for health. Wednesday the best day of all. So even the day of the week is perfect.’" Tennessee’s eyes grew misty.

  A knock sounded. “If that daughter of mine is still determined to get married, we’d best get going.” Her father’s voice was rougher than usual.

  The church was packed. Molly entered first, then Maggie and her father followed as Daniel played the “Bridal Chorus” on his violin, accompanied by the pianist. B.J. was handsome in a dark suit and herringbone-patterned vest in dark plum. Leo grinned from ear to ear as he stood proudly next to him as best man.

  Pastor Nelson extended his long arms. “We are gathered today in the sight of God and in the presence of this fine company to witness the union of Dr. Benjamin James Barton, Jr. and Magdalene Elizabeth McCollough Montgomery in Christian marriage. May our Heavenly Father look down upon this event with His smile of approval. May the Lord Jesus Christ be present and add His blessing. May the Holy Spirit attend and seal these vows in love

  “Proverbs 27:17 says, ‘Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.’” The corner of the pastor’s eyes crinkled. “Although not the typical verse one reads at a wedding, I thought this certainly an appropriate one for this young couple.”

  The pastor chuckled and the congregation joined in. “Brother Montgomery here shapes iron by first heating the metal over coals, then fashions it with hammers and his strong arm. Marriage is like the work of a blacksmith. As we go through life, we’ll have both good and bad times. God often uses our spouses to encourage us and to help shape us into the unique individuals He wants us to be.”

  “Who then presents Magdalene to be married to Benjamin?” Pastor Nelson wiped his eyes with his handkerchief.

  “I do.” Michael Montgomery’s voice cracked. He placed her hand in B.J.’s.

  Maggie swallowed, then matched his grin with a watery smile.

  “The Lord knows that not one of us is complete in ourselves. He has been sanctioning marriages since Adam and Eve.” The pastor continued, “As a symbol of your union, will you now join hands? Benjamin, in taking Magdalene to be your wife, I require you to promise to love and cherish her, to honor and sustain her, in sickness as in health, in poverty as in wealth, in the bad that may darken your days, in the good that may brighten your ways, and to be true to her until death alone shall part you. Do you promise?”

  B.J.’s baritone answered, “I do.” He squeezed Maggie’s hand. She sighed as the pastor continued.

  “Magdalene, do you promise?”

  “I do.” She answered.

  After slipping a gold band on her finger, B.J. brought her hand to his lips.

  “Now hold on, I haven’t gotten to that part yet.” Pastor Nelson joked as he extended his arms, “B.J. and Maggie, in these moments I have heard you pledge your love and faith to each other. Your friends and family members assembled here have heard you seal your solemn vows of marriage by giving and receiving the rings. Now it is my joy and personal privilege to declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  Their lips met in their first kiss as man and wife.

  Pastor Nelson shook B.J.’s hand and patted Maggie’s shoulder. “Friends and family of the bride and groom, the family would like you to join them in celebrating in the fellowship hall next door for cake and punch. And now it is my pleasure to present to you, Dr. And Mrs. Benjamin Benton.”

  They left the church to applause and smiling faces. B.J. paused in front of the fellowship hall and lifted Maggie’s chin. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I love you too.” Maggie stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

  B.J. pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “This may sound selfish, but I can’t wait to have you all to myself.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “In just two hours and forty-five minutes, we’ll need to be at the train station.”

  Maggie tapped her finger on her cheek. “Now maybe you’ll let me in on this surprise of yours. Where are we going?”

  “I think I’ll keep you in suspense just a bit longer.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you’d like to play twenty questions.”

  “You know I’m terrible at that game.” Maggie swatted his arm playfully.

  B.J. chuckled. “That’s all right. I figure we’ve got another fifty years or more for you to practice.”

  In my first novel, Rebecca’s Hope, I introduced colorful characters and innovative women in a western town in the late 19th century. Maggie’s Strength is a continuation of the story about a pint-sized blacksmith. As I was researching her trade a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow came to mind. The Village Blacksmith was first published in 1840 and describes the daily life of a local tradesman who balances his life, work, and family in a beautiful way. Just like the spreading chestnut tree, the smithy’s physical strength is secondary to his character.

  In today’s world men are often portrayed inaccurately as weak and silly. I enjoy the character that Longfellow portrays much better. He exemplifies the good life as a compassionate teacher, loving father and provider.

  The Village Blacksmith

  By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Under a spreading chestnut-tree

  The village smithy stands;

  The smith, a mighty man is he,

  With large and sinewy hands;

  And the muscles of his brawny arms

  Are strong as iron bands.

  His hair is crisp, and black, and long,

  His face is like the tan;

  His brow is wet with honest sweat,

  He earns whate’er he can,

  And looks the whole world in the face,

  For he owes not any man.

  Week in, week out, from morn till night,

  You can hear his bellows blow;

  You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,

  With measured beat and slow,

  Like a sexton ringing the village bell,

  When the evening sun is low.

  And children coming home from school

  Look in at the open door;

  They love to see the flaming forge
,

  And near the bellows roar,

  And catch the burning sparks that fly

  Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

  He goes on Sunday to the church,

  And sits among his boys;

  He hears the parson pray and preach,

  He hears his daughter’s voice,

  Singing in the village choir,

  And it makes his heart rejoice.

  It sounds to him like her mother’s voice,

  Singing in Paradise!

  He needs must think of her once more,

  How in the grave she lies;

  And with his haul, rough hand he wipes

  A tear out of his eyes.

  https://www.lumoslearning.com/llwp/resources/passage-listings.html?id=1764656

  Continue reading for samples of work by other authors

  Other Books by Kimberly Grist

  ~o0o~

  Rebecca's Hope

  Raised by her guardian and influenced by the mostly male population of Carrie Town Texas, Rebecca benefited from a forward-thinking, unorthodox education not typical for a young woman in the late Nineteenth century.

  As an adult, she is armed with skills that most would covet, yet she lives in a boarding house, works as a waitress and struggles financially. Most single women in the area didn’t stay single long. Most, but not her. The one man she had said yes to was dragging his feet. The townspeople all agree she needs a husband. Even the young girls in her Sunday School Class have taken action by writing an ad for the paper.

  Wanted: Husband for Rebecca Mueller. **Must be handsome, nice, like children, and live within walking distance of Carrie Town School.

  Will her circumstances change and allow her to hold out for true love?