Brides of Iowa

by Stevens, Connie;

  Susan wiggled and pulled back from her mother’s tight hug and pointed at Everett. “Look, Mama. God sended me a angel. His name is Ever.”

  Amid the chuckles, Tessa stepped over to Everett with grateful tears in her eyes. “How can I thank you? You gave me my little girl back. You are an angel.” Susan, now cocooned in the old quilt that had earlier draped Tessa’s shoulders, sent Everett a sleepy smile.

  Someone leaped up the church steps and began pulling on the bell rope, sending peals of jubilation ringing through the town and surrounding hills and calling in the searchers. Each happy clang of the bell resounded with good news. Across the countryside, trios of rifle shots echoed in response, proclaiming to everyone within hearing radius that God had answered their prayers.

  Pastor Witherspoon climbed the steps and called for everyone’s attention. He led the gathering in a prayer of praise and thanksgiving for Susan’s safe return. As soon as everyone whooped, “Amen!” he raised both hands.

  “I think I speak for all of us when I express how grateful we are to Everett Behr, and to all the folks who helped search for little Susan. Everett, you’re a bona fide hero.” More “amens” rose among those gathered, along with shouts of affirmation.

  Tillie couldn’t take her eyes off Everett. Normally he ducked his head or covered his face and fled from the presence of a large group like this. But he was hemmed in by the townsfolk and couldn’t escape even if he wanted to. The public praise brought a flush to his cheeks, but there was something else—something normally absent from his face: a smile. Her heart accelerated. Her hungry eyes took in every plane of his dear countenance.

  Pastor Witherspoon continued, “I think you’ll agree we’re all too tired for a barn dance.” A few murmurs and groans of concurrence resonated. “So if it’s all right with everyone, and if it’s all right with Dan Miller, whose barn we planned to use, we’ll hold the harvest dance next Saturday night.” More nods and hums of agreement rippled through the group.

  A few pairs of searchers came galloping in, among them Gideon Maxwell, who leaped off his horse and ran to embrace his wife and daughter. Tillie wrapped her arms around herself to contain the happy shiver dancing in her chest, and enjoyed the scene as Gideon added his thanks to Everett.

  The feelings that swelled her heart went far beyond admiration. Tillie’s feet itched to run to Everett, and her fingers trembled in anticipation of touching his hand. Still she held back, waiting for people to disperse. What she wished to tell Everett was best said in quiet and privacy.

  Tillie remained off to the side, her gaze locked on the man in the center of the gathering. If she could communicate silently across the space that separated them, she’d already spoken volumes. Finding the words to vocalize her thoughts and feelings to him, however, was a different matter. If only he could simply read her heart.

  Everett turned his head from one side to the other. He appeared to be searching the crowd. At no time since he walked in with Susan in his arms had Tillie seen him attempt to hide his scars, and he wasn’t doing so now. He craned his neck and turned around. The moment his gaze met hers, she felt the impact. A tiny smile hooked the corner of his mouth and stretched the scars on the right side of his face. Her heart thumped out a rhythm she was certain he could hear, even over the celebration taking place around them. Neither of them looked away. Did he know what she was thinking? Could he hear with his heart what her lips couldn’t speak?

  Gradually the people called out their final good nights to each other, patting Susan on the head and shaking Everett’s hand. A few of the ladies began packing the last of their picnic items away in baskets and crates. All but a few had taken their leave. Before the men took the makeshift table apart and carried the sawhorses away, Tillie turned and poured two cups of coffee.

  “Thank you for praying.”

  Tillie turned to find Everett standing behind her. She noticed he’d donned his shirt once again, covering his long johns. Tillie handed him one of the coffee mugs. His fingers lingered on hers for a few extra moments as he accepted the steaming brew. At his touch, her breathing became more rapid. Tillie studied his dark brown eyes, looking into their depths. She was too filled with wonder to speak.

  Weariness etched its mark across his face. “Would you mind if we sat down?” He led the way over to the steps, and it was then Tillie noticed he was limping.

  “Everett, you’re hurt.”

  He shook his head as he lowered himself to the step beside her. “It’s nothing. I twisted my foot a bit. It’ll be fine.” He turned and looked fully into her face. “It won’t leave a scar.”

  His tone held no bitterness. She dropped her gaze to her shoe tops for a moment. “Everett Behr, you are an extraordinary man.” She returned her shy glance to him.

  He shrugged. “There were a lot of men out searching. I was only one of many. God let me find her.”

  Tillie sipped her coffee and then ran her finger around the rim of the mug. “I noticed little Susan didn’t find you repulsive at all. In fact, she clung to you and didn’t want to let go when everyone started shouting.”

  “Tillie, it was amazing.” He reached over and picked up her hand, but he didn’t seem to realize he’d done so. Torchlight flickered off his face, highlighting his scars. Awe filled his expression, as if he was relating a miracle. “The moonlight came and went as the clouds moved, but when I heard her crying, it was as if God flooded the area with light.” He waved his hand, gesturing toward the torches. “The moon was brighter than it had been the entire evening. She looked up at me and climbed right into my arms. She wasn’t afraid at all.”

  “Mm, she thought you were an angel.” The smile that began in the depths of her heart grew and rose to fill her entire being. “Everett, your scars are the result of an entirely selfless, love-filled act. Remember, Jesus bore scars from an ultimate act of love. By His scars, we have the hope of heaven. Scars aren’t ugly, Everett.” She tightened her fingers around his, pulling them toward her. He glanced down at their joined hands and returned the squeeze. When his gaze rose back to meet hers, he lifted his other hand and ran his fingertips over his scars.

  Tillie reached out and gently took his hand, pulling it away from his face. “Your scars are beautiful to me.”

  The warmth permeating Everett’s being wasn’t the result of sipping the hot coffee. Tillie’s nearness quickened his pulse and deepened each breath. The autumn wind sighed through the cedars and flickered the torchlight into ripples across the churchyard. The weariness that had dogged him as he’d made his way through the darkness with little Susan vanished, replaced by revived freshness in Tillie’s company. He wanted to stare at her, to take in every nuance of her image and forever commit this moment to memory. She stole his very breath. There was so much he wanted—no, needed to say to her. Where should he begin?

  “Where’s Ben?” Where’s Ben! He groaned within himself and wanted to yank the words back the instant they escaped. What a stupid thing to say. Where was the comfortable camaraderie they’d enjoyed walking among the willows?

  One of her eyebrows arched slightly. “He went out searching with Fletcher Hamilton. They came back a little while ago, after the bell was rung. I don’t expect you noticed them in all the commotion.”

  He hadn’t. He only had eyes for Tillie. Another wagon pulled out of the churchyard, its occupants calling out their good nights to the men disassembling the tables and the women finishing the cleanup. He raised his hand to wave in response but quickly returned his focus on Tillie and the moment God was allowing them to share.

  Tillie’s soft voice intertwined with the song of the night wind. “Ben told me he could see how I felt about you, and he said I wouldn’t find a finer man than you. And he’s right.”

  “He did? He is?”

  Her laugh reminded him of raindrops falling softly on the fields. Such a sweet sound. But the smile faded from her face, and she lowered her gaze, twisting her fingers into a knot. “I have to ask you something.”<
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  He reached over and disentangled her fingers, holding them gently within his. “You can ask me anything.”

  She took a deep breath, as if the question on her lips needed a push. “Everett, are you planning on leaving?”

  Her inquiry so startled him that he tightened his grip on her hands lest they slip from his grasp. Did she know about the letter? Before he could tell her all the things his heart wanted to say, he needed to begin by being honest.

  “I’ve received an offer of a position back east. How did you know?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “My brother Phillip was at work in your father’s store. He overheard your father and Miss Pearl talking about you moving back to Baltimore. Phillip said he didn’t think your parents knew he was in the storeroom.” A tiny smile pulled a dimple into her cheek. “Even though he’s my younger brother, he thinks he has to protect me. He didn’t mean any harm.” The smile fell away. “He told me he heard your parents praying that God would work it out for you to stay in Willow Creek.” Her green eyes filled with pain, and she repeated her question. “So are you planning on leaving?”

  She pulled one hand away to push back her hair, but Everett held the other one captive. “Honestly? I haven’t decided yet. I only received the letter a week ago, and it caught me by surprise. I will admit that I’ve been thinking about it. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve found it harder than I believed possible to watch you and Ben together.”

  “But you were the one who kept telling me I should accept Ben’s attention.”

  Everett pursed his lips and nodded. “I know. I truly believed I was doing the right thing. These scars…How could I expect…? Tillie, I never meant to hurt you. My only thought was to see you happy. I couldn’t ask you to spend your life with someone who looks like a freak.”

  “You stop right there, Everett Behr.” A stubborn scowl took up residence on her beautiful face. “I never want to hear you utter those words again.” She pulled her hand away from him and plunked both hands on her hips. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “Yes, I did. I said I haven’t decided yet.”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Angels preserve us!” Those crystal-green eyes returned to earth and nailed him where he sat. “Don’t you think it’s high time you do decide? Because I have something I want to say to you, but not until I know if you’re planning on staying or leaving.”

  A bubble of laughter formed in his belly and rose into his chest. He clamped his lips shut. Something told him he’d best hold it in. If the feisty expression on her face was any indication, she might not take it kindly if he laughed.

  He sucked in a breath. “I was seriously considering the offer, but circumstances have changed, and it appears God wants me to stay where I am.”

  The light from the torches burned a bit lower. They’d need to say good night soon. Only two men remained at the church, loading up the last of the sawhorses and planks.

  The stubborn look in her eye waned like the torchlight. “What circumstances have changed?”

  He reached over and hooked the errant lock of hair back behind her ear once again, his fingers grazing the side of her face. Her soft smile invited his hand to linger there as she tipped her head to nestle into his palm. His rib cage prevented his heart from soaring out of his chest. Sorrow pinched him when he removed his hand from her face.

  “God has broken through this thick head of mine and shown me how foolish I’ve been.” How should he explain the dawn of understanding? “For months I told myself the friendship you offered me was simply because of your compassion, and I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. Especially you.”

  She opened her mouth, an expression of protest on her face, but he laid his finger on her lips. Complete honesty demanded he finish his explanation.

  “I couldn’t see myself asking you to be with someone who looked like me. I truly believed I was sparing you from a lifetime of pain.”

  He captured her hand again. “Tillie, God has shown me your heart. He’s allowed me to glimpse the pure, unspoiled love you have to share.” He lifted her fingers to his lips. “Once God pulled the blindfold from my eyes and I understood the depth of your feelings, all those excuses I kept calling reasons fell away.”

  She reached across the space that separated them and touched his scars, a tiny smile tipping the corners of her mouth. “This is the face I want to see every morning for the rest of my life.”

  His heart leaped with a freedom he’d never known before, and he couldn’t keep the grin from stretching across his face. “Why, Tillie O’Dell, are you asking me to marry you?”

  The cockiness he’d come to adore danced in her sparkling eyes. “Unless you ask me first, yes.”

  Laughter rose up from the delight in his heart and spilled over. “Well, in that case, I accept. But just to make it conventional…” He slid off the church step and lowered himself to one knee, taking her hand in his. The flickering light of the torch played over her face and reflected off her eyes. “Tillie, I love you. I’ve loved you for months and didn’t realize it. With God’s help, I plan to love you until the day He takes me home. I believe you are the partner He has ordained for me, and I for you. Will you marry me?”

  Tillie leaned forward and framed his face with her hands. “I’ve always wanted my very own angel, and now God has sent me one…named Ever.”

  Epilogue

  Willow Creek, Iowa, 1887

  Oh Everett, it’s beautiful.” Tillie ran her fingers over the pattern of leaded glass in the front door of the house they were building. Sunlight caught the beveled edges of the intricate design. “But isn’t it too costly?”

  Everett squeezed his wife’s shoulders. “Tillie, my love, you are so easy to please, and you never ask for anything. I wanted you to have a little touch of extravagance.” He took her hand and led her up the newly painted steps to the wide front porch. “Father has ordered some rocking chairs from a furniture maker in Ohio. I thought we could set them here on the porch and watch the sunset in the evenings.”

  Tillie smiled up at him. “Sunset always was your favorite time of day.” She walked to one end of the porch where a willow tree draped its curtain across the corner of the railing, close enough to reach out and weave her fingers through the dangling green withes. When Everett had shown her the parcel of land at the edge of town that he wanted to purchase, she’d immediately fallen in love with the two willow trees that stood silently beckoning an invitation to hide away in their curtained sanctuaries. Everett had agreed their house should be built right in between them—a giant willow at each end of the sprawling porch.

  Tillie smiled and glanced at her husband over her shoulder. “Do you remember how we used to walk in the evenings and watch the fireflies play hide-and-seek through the willow trees?”

  Everett’s teasing chuckle made her heart flutter. “I seem to recall you taking off your shoes and stockings and dangling your feet in the creek.”

  A warm blush filled Tillie’s face despite the fact they’d been married for almost two years. “How scandalous!”

  Everett grinned. “I couldn’t see your ankles. Between the twilight and the shadows from the willow trees, it was too dark.”

  Tillie filled her eyes with the sight of their new house, almost ready for them to move in. “I still can’t believe you’ve had this house built for us. Don’t misunderstand—I love the house. It’s beautiful, but I’d have been happy living in the apartment over your father’s store.”

  “So you’ve told me.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I wanted to give you a house of your own. A place where we could grow and establish our own family traditions and memories, a refuge to come home to and a haven for our children…someday.”

  Tillie dipped her head and smiled a private smile over the secret she shared with the Lord. She laid her hand over her abdomen, awe filling her over the tiny life that grew there in its wondrous hiding place. Perhaps this was a good time to tell Everett her news.<
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  “I saw Tessa and Susan today. Susan wanted to know if Uncle Ever was coming to her birthday party.”

  Everett inspected the framing around the front windows. “She’s having another birthday? She must be…what, four?”

  “She’s going to be five years old this Saturday.”

  “Time sure flies.”

  “Mm. She’s going to be a big sister soon, too. Gideon and Tessa are expecting again.”

  Everett’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful. I’ll remember to congratulate Gideon when I see him.” He laid his hand on the small of her back. “Come on, let’s go see how the new kitchen is coming along. Fred Cummings does excellent cabinetry work.”

  Tillie allowed him to lead her to the front door. “I’m more anxious to see the upstairs.”

  Everett paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I thought we agreed to wait and finish the upstairs later.”

  “I believe we said…as the need arises.”

  “Well, yes, but—” Everett’s eyes widened.

  “Didn’t you say there would be enough room for two large bedrooms upstairs?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Of course, the room doesn’t have to be ready right away. We can wait…five, maybe six months.”

  “But—”

  “Won’t it be fun for Gideon and Tessa’s new baby to have a playmate the same age?”

  Her husband stood with his feet anchored in place as he stared unblinking at her.

  Tillie gave him her sweetest smile and slid her arms around his neck. “You’re going to be a wonderful papa.” She watched an expression of absolute rapture sweep across his face.

  “Oh, my sweet Tillie.” He held her face in both hands and lowered his lips to hers. He pulled his head back and smoothed his fingers over her hair, then raised his eyes to heaven. “Lord, what a marvelous gift You’ve given us. Every gift from You is perfect. Thank You, Father.”