Holidays with the Weavers

by Kit Morgan

  “I didn’t know he was here.”

  Olivia glanced at her, then George. “So … he’s here because …”

  “Because of you,” Bernice finished.

  Everyone seemed to fade away the closer George got. When he reached her he looked into her eyes and smiled. “Hello.”

  “Hello,” she managed, her eyes roaming over him. “What are you doing here?”

  A weak laugh escaped. “You’re not going to believe this, but …”

  “Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Olivia glanced at the corner where Grandpa Johnson stood, a silly grin on his face. “Albert.”

  “Albert? Why do you say that?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind. You were saying?”

  “I got a letter from Grandpa telling me you were no longer married, and you got your memory back. He said to come right away.”

  “But … how did he know? I only got it back a few minutes ago.”

  Grandpa cackled, eyes full of mischief.

  “I have no idea,” George said. “All I know is, well …” He took her hand in his and dropped to one knee. “… I love you, Olivia. I have from the first time I saw you. I know some may think what I’m about to do is foolhardy. But I don’t want to go on without you.”

  “George!” she gasped.

  “Marry me, Olivia. Be my wife. Forever and ever.”

  “Olivia …,” Jonathan began.

  Olivia cut him off. “Not now, Jonathan. Oh, George, yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

  “Hallelujah,” Ma muttered. “I thought he’d never be able to ask.”

  Arlan smiled at George. “Yer gettin’ yerself one heck of a woman.”

  George smiled back. “I knew that all along, Arlan.”

  Jonathan glanced between them. “George?”

  “George Johnson.” George stood and offered his hand to Jonathan, who shook it. He turned back to Olivia, put his arms around her and kissed her.

  Warren walked over to Jonathan. “He’s my cousin. Has his own carpentry and furniture business in Oregon City. He’ll do right by her, don’t worry.”

  Jonathan could only stare at his sister and nod. He looked at his wife. “Well, I guess we won’t be bringing Olivia home with us.”

  “I guess not.”

  “I knew everything would work out!” Grandpa said as he joined them. “Albert said so.”

  “Seriously, who’s Albert?” Jonathan asked.

  Olivia broke the kiss, smiled at George, then looked at her brother. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Jonathan shrugged. “Okay. Olivia, are you …?”

  “I’m fine, Jonathan. In fact, I’ve never been better.”

  George smiled. “I knew you would be.” He looked at his grandfather. “Thanks, Grandpa. From the bottom of my heart.”

  “Think nothing of it, sonny boy. Just take good care of her. And congratulations on your upcoming wedding!”

  Aunt Betsy clapped her hands together. “Wedding? Oh goodness! Leonaaaaaa!”

  That got Olivia’s attention. “What’s gotten into her?”

  Matthew, who’d been quietly standing off to one side with Charlotte, pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you’re smart, you’ll run now. My mother and Leona Riley love to take over a bride’s wedding – and I do mean take over.”

  Everyone around them laughed. Olivia smiled. “I’m too happy to worry about it right now. Even if it is my wedding.”

  “We’ll work out the details, later, darling,” George said. “Right now I just want to look at you. I prayed everything would work out.”

  “And the good Lord heard you,” Ma said. “You can’t ask for more.”

  “No,” Olivia gazed into George’s eyes. “I certainly can’t.” She kissed him then, not caring about anything else. He was her rock, her support, her knight in shining armor that had rescued her – right along with the Weavers, the Johnsons, and, well, Albert and his rooster friend Bob. Real or imagined …

  * * *

  “… And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the preacher asked Olivia.

  She smiled up at George. “I do.”

  The last two weeks had flown by – and best of all, she’d hardly had to lift a finger. Betsy Quinn and Leona Riley saw to all the wedding details. It was like a dream come true. She wondered if she should pinch herself.

  “Then by the power vested in me by Almighty God and the Washington Territory I now pronounce you man and wife.” The preacher smiled at George. “You may kiss the bride.”

  George lifted Olivia’s veil, leaned toward her and looked into her eyes. “I thank God for you.” He kissed her, longer than he should have, but she didn’t mind a bit.

  A loud “whoopee!” came from the front pew of the church, and George broke the kiss. “Grandpa …”

  “Don’t scold him,” Olivia said. “After all, if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be standing here.”

  “Oh, I’d have had you here eventually, but better sooner than later.” George looked at the church packed with weddings guests. The whole town had come out, as had George’s son Clarence and some friends from Oregon City, Sheriff Tom Turner and his wife Rose from Clear Creek, and Jonathan and Maisie from Montana Territory. They stood and waited with the other guests as George and Olivia made their way down the aisle amidst cheers and shouts of congratulations.

  Outside they shook hands and shared hugs with well-wishers. “Well, ain’t this a sight,” Tom said as he and Rose approached. “I have to say, I was mighty surprised when I got Harlan’s letter.”

  Olivia blushed to her toes. “You’re no more surprised than I am, Sheriff.”

  He smiled. “Yer a changed woman, Mrs. Johnson. And George is a lucky man.”

  “Olivia just needed someone to cherish her,” George replied. “Love can do that.”

  Tom looked at his wife. “I’ll agree with that.” He kissed her and moved on.

  Harlan and Ma were next. “Congratulations!” Harlan said. “I guess this means you won’t need to come to Clear Creek with us,” he told Olivia with a smile.

  “I suppose not.”

  “When are you going?” George asked.

  “Summer is usually best,” Harlan said. “I’m still working out the details.”

  “Details … what details?” Olivia asked.

  “Calvin and Benjamin.”

  “What’s that, Harlan?” Calvin said from behind him.

  “I said I’m working out details. Farm has to be taken care of proper if you and Benjamin are gonna come with me and your ma to Clear Creek.”

  Calvin and Benjamin exchanged a look. “What did ya say?” Benjamin asked.

  “I said …”

  “He done said we’re goin’ to Clear Creek!” Calvin yelped with glee. “Whoopee!”

  Tom turned and laughed. “Well, at least I’ll have plenty of time to warn folks.”

  Benjamin laughed. “Good thing, too, ‘cause we ain’t gonna leave our kids behind.”

  “We’ll work out the details later,” Harlan said pointedly. “This is George and Olivia’s big day.” He turned to the newly married couple with a huge smile. “Olivia, it’s been a pleasure. You’ve restored hope and faith in me that people really can change.”

  “When they want to,” she tacked on. “I couldn’t have done it without your loving kindness.”

  Ma hugged and kissed her. “We love you, Olivia. You’re part of the family now. Please tell us you’ll visit as often as you can.”

  “We will.”

  Ma and Harlan moved on as more people got in line to congratulate the couple, including Jonathan. He kissed his sister on the cheek and shook George’s hand. “So, sis, are you ever going to tell me who this Albert is?”

  She smiled. “I’m not sure who he is. Though I have my suspicions.”

  “Suspicions?” George said. He sighed and looked at her brother. “My grandpa talks to folks that aren’t there. Albert and Bob.”

  Jonathan’s eyes f
licked between them. “I see.”

  “No, you don’t.” Olivia took a deep breath. “Do you remember the man you found sleeping in the livery stable you worked in back in Cutter’s Creek when we were young?”

  Jonathan thought a moment before his eyes popped wide. “You mean Albert Dunst?”

  “Yes. Can you tell George what he looked like?”

  “Ah, well, he was short and kinda pudgy, thinning brown hair, dark eyes. Always needed a shave.”

  George’s eyes grew round. “That’s how Ottilie described Grandpa’s imaginary friend. How … how did you know that?”

  “We both saw him,” Olivia said. “Years ago.”

  “What? I don’t understand …” George went pale. “You don’t think … nah, it couldn’t be.”

  “Trust me,” Jonathan said. “I wouldn’t believe it either, except Rev. Latsch back home recalled the man while we were talking about the town’s past Christmas pageants. This Albert whipped into town, was there a few weeks or months, I can’t remember, then poof, just disappeared. Mary, the reverend’s wife, said she thought he was an angel.”

  George laughed nervously, looked at Olivia, then Jonathan and Maisie. “You don’t believe that … do you?”

  Jonathan smiled. “Well, Olivia did win the best dessert contest at the pageant that year. That was a miracle.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes, then scanned the crowd for Grandpa. She spotted him and sure enough, he was off to one side of the church talking to someone that wasn’t there. Or at least, someone she couldn’t see … “I wonder what they talk about.”

  The rest followed her gaze. “I don’t think I’d want to know,” Jonathan said.

  “So long as it doesn’t hurt anyone,” Maisie added, “what’s the harm?”

  George took Olivia’s hand. “We should invite them for a visit.”

  “Them?”

  He smiled. “Grandpa, Albert and … what’s the other one’s name?”

  “Bob,” she said. “The rooster. I guess I’d better not make chicken and dumplings that night.”

  They all laughed. “We’d better move on,” Jonathan said. He took Maisie’s hand and left the couple to the other well-wishers.

  * * *

  “Well, what do you say, Albert?” Grandpa said, leaning against the side of the church. “Everything turned out just as planned. So who’s next?” He stared at the space in front of him before turning. “Oh, Ottilie. There you are. Did you enjoy the wedding?”

  “Yes, very much.” She peered behind him.

  Grandpa turned. “Oh yes, Albert, Bob, you remember Ottilie?”

  Ottilie smiled at the stocky man holding a rooster. “Hello. It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all ours, young lady.” He turned to Grandpa. “We must be going. Lots to do.”

  “Aw, all right,” Grandpa said in disappointment. “When will you be back?”

  “I couldn’t say,” Albert said. “But we’ll be in touch.”

  Ottilie continued to stare. Was she really seeing this? “Are you … visiting?”

  Albert smiled. “No, working. But our work here’s done for now. Perhaps we’ll see you again.”

  She swallowed hard. “Perhaps.”

  “Well, it’s been a pleasure, Albert,” Grandpa said. “You too, Bob.”

  The rooster stared at him with one beady eye and crowed.

  The sound made Ottilie jump and shut her eyes. When she opened them, they were gone. “Oh my!”

  “Yeah, they do that,” Grandpa said. “Now, how about we head over to Hank’s for some cake? Poor Hank could use some cheering up. He just lost his new cook, you know.”

  Ottilie stood frozen to the spot, eyes still glued to where Albert and the rooster had been. “Mr. Johnson?” she said shakily.

  Grandpa sighed. “Best not mention this to anyone, girl. They might not believe ya.”

  She shook her head. “No, I dare say they won’t. Was that an … an …?”

  “Don’t the good Lord let angels walk among us now and then? Help out? Guide? Make sure some of us don’t do something stupid?”

  “I … I suppose.”

  “Then let’s get some cake.”

  Ottilie looked at him. “But Mr. Johnson … how can I see …?”

  “We’ll talk later. Right now I wanna eat cake and watch my grandson make a lovesick fool of himself. That and dance with the bride.”

  “But Mr. Johnson …”

  He took her hand and headed for the crowd already walking toward Hank’s. “Later, girl, later. Don’t you know love is in the air? Ah, there’s nothing like wedded bliss. My grandsons are now both happily married. An answer to prayer.”

  “Prayer?”

  “Yes. Have you been praying for something?”

  She looked away as her cheeks reddened.

  Grandpa laughed. “Whatever it is, just keep praying, girl. The good Lord hears you. Just look at George and Olivia up there – their union’s a plumb miracle. Love can do a lot.” He winked at her, then started to whistle a happy tune.

  Ottilie looked down the street at the newly married couple, smiled and began to whistle herself.

  The End

  (That is, until the Weavers go to Clear Creek)

  About the Author

  Kit Morgan lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. She grew up playing cowboys and Indians and has always loved Westerns! She and her father watched many Western shows and movies together and, though not a western, also enjoyed the quirky characters of Green Acres. No wonder Kit’s books have been described as Green Acres meets Gunsmoke and have brought joy and entertainment to thousands of readers around the globe.