“Go on.” Mike's eyebrows narrowed.
“Annie and Betsy were looking for a particular-sized quill and Memphis mentioned she had a bag of chicken feathers she was using to stuff her pillows.” John-Mark shook his head. “They were adamant you needed a lucky feather, like Pa’s.”
Mike brushed several feathers off his brother’s back. “I take it they spilled the feathers.”
“You’re taking this better than I would.” John-Mark’s heavy work boots clomped on the front porch. “Try and hold on to that sense of humor of yours.”
Mike opened the door and stepped into the foyer. His mouth dropped open at the sight. Piles of fluff lay across the parlor floor. A breeze from the open door caused a surge of feathers to take flight.
“The girls helped me stuff a bunch in.” John-Mark gestured toward the sofa. “I know the down still needs to be maneuvered into the right spot.”
Mike whistled at the sight of the sagging seat. The back door slammed and the patter of feet announced the arrival of Annie. She appeared in the parlor carrying a large flour sack. “Grandma said to put the rest in here and she’ll help stuff the cushion tomorrow. I’m sorry, Uncle Mike.” Annie sniffed.
Mike stepped closer to the young girl with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s not like you to be destructive. Why would you do something like this?”
Annie dropped her chin to her chest. “When I couldn’t find the bag of chicken feathers, I thought I could just reach in and grab one from the sofa.”
“Looks like you did a lot of grabbing.” Mike lifted her chin gently with his finger.
Annie nodded. “I got carried away.”
She darted toward a pile and picked up a handful. “These are little and cute. Watch what they can do.” She blew and giggled at the cloud of fluff, now floating in the air.
“Annie.” John-Mark wagged a finger at his sister-in-law. “Let’s not make any more work. Why don’t you hold open the bag while we collect the rest of these strays?”
Annie hurriedly complied while John-Mark swept and Mike filled the sack. “Tell me about this lucky feather you’re looking for.”
“Well, since Aunt Memphis is mad at you, I thought it would come in handy. ’Cause we all want her to marry you.” Annie opened and closed the sack. “These are too small. We need a big one.”
Mike straightened. “What makes you think Memphis is mad at me?”
“Hmm.” Annie drew a circle with her foot. “I’m only a little kid. I don’t know exactly, but you’re in trouble.”
***
After dinner, Memphis washed the dishes and Mike dried, which had become their nightly ritual. She gave the last pot a good swipe. Mike’s shoulders shook with laughter. “John-Mark said he heard the girls squealing. When he rounded the corner, he saw they’d pulled most of the fluff out of the cushion and were throwing the feathers up in the air.”
Memphis smiled and found herself once again mesmerized by the sound of his laughter and the flash of his dimples. “Your mother and Carol said they’d help me repair the damage in the morning. This time, I’ll be sure to sew up the seam. I don’t want to tempt Annie to search for lucky feathers in my sofa cushions.”
A soap bubble erupted into flight and traveled toward the evening sky encased in the window. Memphis cleared her throat. “I brought fabric samples for you to choose from for your vest for the wedding.”
“Whatever you want is fine by me.” Mike reached for the last dish.
“Is there a reason why you don’t want to give an opinion?” Memphis raised her chin.
“Nope.” Mike reached for her wet hand and rubbed it with the dishtowel. His eyes darkened. “I’m not partial to any particular pattern or color. I want you to pick whatever makes you happy.”
Memphis sighed. “I would like your input.”
“All right, show me what you got.” Mike pulled the ladderback chair away from the worktable for Memphis and took a seat next to her. “These cookies sure smell good.” He reached for a broken piece of a gingerbread man from the tray. “Ginger, clove and cinnamon create an aroma only rivaled by pound cake fresh from the oven.” Mike waggled his eyebrows.
Memphis’s mouth twitched. “Your mother keeps promising me she’s going to give me her recipe. We keep getting sidetracked.”
“I’m teasing. I inherited my sweet tooth from the woman in question. Whatever treat I’m enjoying is my new favorite.”
“Since your favorite color is orange, I thought you might prefer these.” Memphis reached into her pocket and pulled out garish fabric swatches she’d chosen and laid them on the table. Her lips pursed. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Memphis stared at the green and gold flecks in Mike’s wide eyes.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Annie was correct. You are mad at me.”
“I’m not angry. I wish you had told me yourself.” She crossed her arms. “Thankfully, I found out before I selected curtain fabric or I would have been furious.”
Mike rubbed his chin. “I take it you heard how Moses thought by changing my answers, it would make me more appealing?” He leaned forward and clasped her hands. “He did me a favor. Because honestly, I don’t know if I would’ve completed the application.”
“You were open and honest about your concerns in your letters. Why didn’t you mention Moses’s involvement?” Memphis studied Mike’s tight lip. She fought the urge to run her fingers along the five-o’clock shadow darkening his jaw.
He stood and paced. Memphis was surprised how quickly she missed the presence of his hand. His boots pounded the wooden floor back and forth across the kitchen before reoccupying his seat. “Your first letter set a spark in me I hadn’t felt in years.” Mike placed her hand over his heart. “I found the ability to dream again. I planned on telling you once you arrived, then I couldn’t find the right time or the words.”
“It seems to me when I showed you the sample for the upholstery fabric, that would’ve been an ideal time. Why didn’t you say something?” Memphis raised one eyebrow.
“I thought the cushions were brown?” Mike offered a sheepish grin.
Memphis’s mouth dropped open. “The background is a golden brown with various hues of orange and red.”
He shrugged. “I honestly don’t recall noticing one color over the other.”
“Other than brown?” Memphis’s mouth twitched.
A flush crept up his face. “I don’t have a preference for color. All I care about is sitting down without worrying about breaking or ruining anything. The big chair is already my favorite place to sit.”
“I was careful to select a fabric that would be both comfortable and durable.” Memphis shook her head. “But I never would have considered orange if I didn’t think it was something you wanted.”
“I thought you liked how the parlor furniture turned out.” Mike grimaced.
“It’s a lot like your—or should I say, Moses’s favorite book?” Memphis giggled. “It’s not something I would have chosen on my own, but I’m glad I did. I absolutely love it.”
“Thank goodness.” The rough pad of his thumb caressed her knuckles.
“I have a lot to learn about marriage. From what I’ve seen, I want a relationship like your parents’. Something tells me we won’t have that if we aren’t honest about things.” Memphis offered a half-smile. “No more skirting around the truth, even over simple matters, such as favorite colors and cakes.”
“Agreed.” Mike stood and pulled her close. “There’s one more thing.”
Memphis searched his face. “Moses didn’t help you write your letters, did he?”
“No.” The rough pad of his finger stroked her cheek. “I’d appreciate it if you would disregard the questionnaire. Other than the Pride and Prejudice answer, I don’t have an inkling of what he wrote.”
“Understood.” Memphis stared at his mouth. “Anything else?”
“I don’t know who paid the fee and mailed my application.” Their lips met. “Whoever they are, I’m mighty grateful.”
“Anything else?”
“My preference for color is the shade of your eyes.” He offered a slow grin. “My favorite book is Moby Dick.”
“Excellent choices.” Memphis stood on tiptoes and kissed him again.
Chapter 23
December 25, 1891
“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Memphis sucked in a breath while Mike’s oldest sister, Molly, and Daisy laced the back of her dress. She ran her hand over her silky ivory gown refashioned from her mother’s wedding dress.
Molly’s face appeared in the mirror, a younger version of Mrs. Montgomery. Her green eyes sparkled while she fashioned Memphis’s hair into an updo except for one long curl caressing her neck “You look beautiful.” She beamed.
Memphis twirled in front of the full-length mirror and grinned at the soft swish of the full skirt. She ran her finger along the scooped neckline. “I wonder what my mother would think?”
Tears sprang into Molly’s eyes. “She’d think you look beautiful and would approve of my extremely handsome and wonderful brother.”
“She would love him.” Memphis’s lips quivered.
“Just as we love you.” Molly positioned her lace veil. “No tears now. You’ll cause hysteria in all the expecting mothers waiting for your appearance.” Daisy extended her wedding bouquet of dried lavender and wildflowers tied with an ivory ribbon. “It’s wonderful to see you so happy. If my match turns out to be half as successful as yours, I’ll be thrilled. But I agree with Molly, no crying or your face and neck will get blotchy.”
Memphis giggled and accepted the flowers. “Thank you both for helping me.”
“Let me be the first to officially welcome you into the family.” Molly wrapped her in a warm embrace.
Daisy adjusted her veil and nodded approvingly. “You look perfect for your very anxious groom, who is downstairs waiting impatiently.”
Memphis followed the women out of the bedroom and took the arm of Mr. Montgomery, who waited in the hall. He patted her arm. “You are a welcome and much-needed addition to our household.”
The misty eyes of her future father-in-law triggered her own. “Thank you for welcoming me into your wonderful family.” Her voice cracked.
“As my wife reminds me almost daily, there is always room for more. After the first of the year, I’d like your help in matching more of our sons.” He chuckled and winked. “I’ve already filled out their questionnaires and sent in the applications.”
Notes from the violin interrupted their conversation. Memphis was grateful for the support of Mr. Montgomery’s arm as she stepped forward on shaky knees. Her gaze traveled along the banister to the evergreen branches mingled with magnolia leaves hanging by velvet ribbon. The fresh fruity overtones of pine enveloped the room.
Memphis descended the staircase to the crooning of the violin. The aromas and sounds of Christmas were enhanced by the crackling of the fire. Hot apple cider with cinnamon and the blend of butter and vanilla filled the air from the pound cakes Mike’s mother removed from the oven hours earlier.
Her heart swelled as the violin changed pace and transitioned into the wedding march. With a heightened sense of awareness, Memphis became keenly aware of Annie’s giggle when Molly’s three-year-old twins rushed to retrieve the rose petals she threw along her path.
The rough texture of Mr. Montgomery’s hand was comforting when he patted hers before escorting her between the rows of family and friends assembled in the parlor.
The light from Mike’s eyes gave her the courage to join him. He wore tailored trousers and a sack coat buttoned only at the top to show the textured vest she’d made for him. They’d selected a golden brown pattern with green, blue and russet to remind them of their commitment to communicate and willingness to compromise. His broad smile warmed her heart. Pastor Nelson’s booming voice grew lyrical while he performed the marriage ceremony in front of the Christmas tree. “The ring is a symbol of the love you have for each other. Its unending circle represents the eternal quality of your love. And the gold in these rings symbolizes the purity of your love. Now you may seal your promise to each other by giving and receiving the rings.”
Memphis felt the rumbling from Mike’s chest as he repeated his vows. “I, Michael Patrick Montgomery, take you, Memphis Rose Griffin, to be my wedded wife— To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. To love and cherish ‘til death do us part.” The smoothness of the thin band adorned her finger. “According to God’s holy ordinance, and with this ring, I pledge you my love.”
The warmth from her tears and the now cherished feel of her new husband’s calloused fingers converged when she repeated, “I, Memphis Rose Griffin, take you, Michael Patrick Montgomery, to be my wedded husband— To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health; to love and cherish ‘til death do us part. According to God’s holy ordinance, and with this ring, I pledge you my love.”
The pastor continued. “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.”
The laughter and applause united with the spark from their kiss. Pastor Nelson extended his long arms. “Now, it is my pleasure to present to you, Mr. And Mrs. Michael Patrick Montgomery.”
Memphis and Mike turned toward smiling faces. Annie clapped her hands together and dropped her basket of rose petals. “When will your baby be here, Aunt Memphis?”
Memphis’s eyes widened and her cheeks burned.
Molly’s three-year-old daughter rushed forward to pick up the petals. “Uh oh,” she called.
Annie’s sister Carol struggled to her feet and cried out, “Annie.”
Mike tucked Memphis’s hand in the crook of his arm and grinned at the young girl. “Welcoming new babies is the kind of thing we can’t rush.”
Annie pursed her lips and stared between Carol’s enormous belly to Maggie’s more moderate mound. "It does seem to take a while.”
Memphis let out a sigh of relief amongst laughter and good wishes. She glanced around the room. John-Mark with violin still in hand, patted his wife’s back. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery were beaming. Molly hid her face behind her husband’s arm, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Matt, Moses and Malachi stood grinning like Cheshire cats. The twins sat on the floor happily emptying the rose petals onto the floor. And Maggie and her husband laughed unashamedly.
Mike whispered in her ear. “I tried to warn you. My family’s a lot to handle.”
Memphis faced her new husband and sighed. “I think they’re wonderful.”
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Other Books by Kimberly Grist
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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?
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Emma's Dream
In my first novel Rebecca's Hope, I introduced a western town in the late 19th century filled with colorful characters and innovative young women. Emma's Dream is a continuation of the tale based on Rebecca's best friend. While other young women in the late nineteenth century are reading about proper housekeeping, Emma studies herd improvement and her cooking skills leave a lot to be desired.
Our story begins several months before Rebecca's wedding. Circumstances require Emma to take on the household chores which include taking care of her six-year-old twin cousins. Like a double-edged sword, help arrives in the form of Grandma Tennessee who manages a household with ease but whose colorful stories, old wives’ tales and superstitions flow like a river.
As I researched pioneer life in the late 19th century, I found that superstitions were widely practiced as immigrants migrated and cultures blended. One of my goals as I wrote was to give an accurate account of the period while exposing the inaccuracy of the quotes and beliefs in a humorous way. Hence the birth of the delightful character, Grandma Tennessee.
Emma's Dream is a story of love that's tested by distance and has the perfect combination of history, humor, and romance with an emphasis on faith, friends and good clean fun!
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Lois's Risk
Lois Weaver has been schooled to be polite, lady-like, honest, to clean, cook and sew, so that at the proper age she would marry. As an adult, she surpassed her father’s expectations with her skills and beauty only to shatter them when she opens a dress shop. She risked everything to start her own business.
Now the handsome bank owner has come calling. So why isn’t she happy? And why can’t she forget about a certain farmer with big brown eyes? Daniel Lawrence, former Texas Ranger, gained immense satisfaction when he purchased his farm and livestock. His new way of life is not only a means to make a living but adds a sense of fulfillment. The only thing lacking is a wife and family.
A Fresh Start for Christmas Page 10