by Jenna Brandt
Lucy knew everyone was contemplating the same thing. What if they didn’t recover? Would William be able to leave England if that happened?
To avoid talking about the matter further, Debbey switched the subject. “I’ve meant to ask you, how was family dinner the other night? I’m sorry we couldn’t make it. It seems I ate something that didn’t agree with me, and even though I wanted to be there, I couldn’t get out of bed.”
“I’m sorry you weren’t well, but it would've helped to have you both there.”
“What does that mean?”
Lucy didn’t want to answer as she felt uncomfortable talking about Debbey’s parents in a negative manner. “It doesn’t matter. We got through the dinner.”
With furrowed eyebrows, Debbey probed, “Did something happen?”
“You won't let this go, will you?”
“You might as well just answer me because if you don’t, I’ll just end up bothering Matthew until he tells me.”
Lucy shrugged. “You asked for it.” With a sigh, she said, “Your parents made it clear they don’t trust me and they think I’m a poor match for your brother.”
“What? Are you sure you didn’t just misinterpret something?”
“The confrontation was bad enough that your brother threatened to leave and never return. It didn’t come to that, but barely.” Lucy’s eyes fell to the box in front of her and she twisted the ribbon around in her hands. “I really want your parents to accept me into the family, but I think it’s a lost cause.”
Debbey reached out and wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Don’t think that, Lucy. God can do anything. All we need to do is pray.”
Amelie came to Lucy’s other side and put her arm around her from the other side. “Why don’t we do that now. Dear Lord, we come to you with a petition to ask you to intervene in the situation with the McCoys. Please help them to see the wonderful, loyal and brave woman their son picked to marry. Help them to let go of their preconceived ideas. We ask that you bridge the gap between them and make Lucy’s wedding the best day for everyone. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.”
A tear slipped down Lucy’s cheek as she whispered, “Thank you. I appreciate your love and support so much.”
“I think we should lighten the mood by talking about something more exciting,” Debbey suggested.
Lucy patted away the tears. “Like what?”
“Let’s speculate on what the men are doing tonight for Matthew’s stag night.”
The men were seated at a table inside one of the local Oregon City restaurants. They had just finished the five-course meal. Pierre had telegraphed the manager ahead of time to have this special meal available for the party.
William glanced around the room and rolled his shoulders. “This has to be the tamest stag night I have ever been to.”
“Is that so? What about yours?” Pierre mocked.
“I did not have one, so that does not count. If I had, it would have been written in the annals of history.”
“Come to think of it, I did not have one either,” Pierre mused.
William chuckled. “By that standard, this is the best stag night any of us have attended in years.”
Matthew rolled his eyes as he kicked his legs out under the table and slouched down in his chair. “Give either of you one too many glasses of wine, and you both become the most obnoxious men in the room.”
“I resent that comment,” William declared with a narrowed stare. “Your sister has put me on a strict no drinking restriction and I adhere to it.”
“Except tonight. Tonight, you had a glass with every course, as did Pierre. I’m probably the only sober one among us.”
William shook his finger back and forth. “Not every course, I did not have one with dessert. I absolutely abhor dessert wines.”
“And if you know anything about Europeans, we can drink an entire bottle apiece with no effect,” Pierre added. “Four glasses is nothing.”
“My question is if you cannot go to the local saloon, what do you do for amusement, Matthew?” William inquired.
Sitting up in his chair, Matthew grinned. “Well, there is one activity, but I’m not sure either of you would be up for it.”
William leaned forward in anticipation, jumping at the dangled carrot. “What do you have in mind?”
“Have either of you heard of a snipe hunt?”
Both men shook their heads. “What is it?” William questioned.
“Well, you both are in luck. It’s the perfect season for snipe hunting. It has to be done in the dead of night. The birds are easier to catch in the dark.”
“I thought all birds migrated south for the winter?” Pierre asked skeptically.
“Most do, but the snipe’s a special bird. It stays in North America year round.”
“What do we have to do?” William probed.
“We need to go out into the fields with a sack and stick. They are flightless birds that burrow in the ground. When you crouch down and make snipe noises or hit the ground with a stick, they come up out of their holes, making it possible for you to catch them. They are extremely fast, but if you can do it, you’ll have bragging rights all around West Linn.”
William glanced over at Pierre who looked as if he were contemplating the idea. “We’re in. Take us to the best snipe hunting field.”
With a grin, Matthew stated, “You got it.”
A half-hour later, the three men were trudging through a muddy field. Pierre was hitting a stick against the ground while William made the high, shrill noises Matthew taught them to make.
“This seems highly unusual. I’ve never heard of birds behaving like this,” Pierre accused.
“As I told you, they are special birds, one of a kind.”
“Why aren’t you doing this?” William asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m keeping an eye out for both of you. Besides, I’ve been on my fair share of snipe hunts. I figure, why get in the way? I want to let both of you enjoy all the fun.”
The pair spent an hour looking for snipes while Matthew watched with amusement. William threw his stick down in frustration. “Are you sure this is the right location?”
“It is freezing out here. I am rethinking my decision to go snipe hunting in the first place,” Pierre stated with a shiver.
“It’s where everyone is brought for their first snipe hunt,” Matthew defended.
Pierre poked William and whispered, “I think I hear something.”
William bent down next to the ground. As something scurried along the ground, he quickly placed his bag over it and scooped it up. “I caught one; I caught one!”
A confused look crossed Matthew’s face. “Let me see that sack.” As he took the bag from William, a high-pitched squeak came from the bag. “I don’t think you caught a snipe. There’s something else in this bag.”
William’s eyes grew round with disgust. “What do you think is in there?”
Matthew opened the sack and peeked inside. He chuckled as he flipped the bag over and let a gopher fall out. The gopher looked as startled as they did. After a moment’s hesitation, he took off running across the top of Pierre and William’s feet. Both men jumped back in astonishment.
“Well, I think I have had enough,” Pierre declared. “I want to call it a night.”
“I agree. It does not seem like we will be catching any snipes tonight.”
“All right, why don’t we head over to your house, Pierre, and we can meet up with the women,” Matthew suggested.
Frustrated and muddy, the men arrived at the Girald home a few minutes later. As they made their way inside, the women came into the front entry with shocked looks on their faces.
“What in the world happened to all of you?” Amelie asked with concern.
Pierre frowned. “We just spent an hour on an unsuccessful snipe hunt.”
Amelie turned to Debbey with a surprised look, who returned it. Debbey’s voice was thick with suspicion. “A snipe hun
t, you say?”
“Yes, Matthew said it is a rite of passage for all the West Linn men,” William asserted.
“Oh, it’s a rite of passage all right. When you are ten-years-old and your uncle and father want to make you the butt of their joke,” Lucy stated.
“What does that mean?” Both men asked in unison.
Amelie put her hand through her husband’s arm and lead him over to the sofa. “It means, you both just spent an hour looking for a bird you would never find.”
Irritated, Pierre shook his head. “I do not get it. What’s the point?”
Matthew came up and patted Pierre on the back. “It means you’re finally one of us; once you’ve been introduced to a snipe hunt.”
William took his wife by the arm. “I am not sure what to think of all this, but I will have you explain it while we walk home, dear wife.” As they made their way to the door, he turned back around for a moment with a look of understanding settling on his face. “I am getting an inkling as to what happened, which means you should prepare yourself, Matthew, for my swift retaliation at an unspecified time.”
With the click of the door, Matthew chuckled. “I have to say, the night didn’t start off the way I would've planned, but it sure ended on an entertaining note.”
“You are lucky you soon will be my best friend’s family. Otherwise, I am not sure we would remain friends after this,” Pierre accused.
“Come now; I didn’t mean to upset you, Pierre. Honestly, it’s a harmless trick.”
“Don’t stay mad at him. Matthew has always been bad at jokes,” Amelie informed.
Debbey nodded adamantly. “I can attest to that.”
Matthew feigned mock hurt before he chuckled. “They kind of have a point.”
This time, everyone laughed together.
Chapter 7
The Moore Estate could be seen from the top of the long, winding path as Matthew and Lucy rode in the wagon toward the glowing mansion. As they approached the vast estate, lights flickered from the rows of windows of the two-story villa. Swags of garland twisted around the stack of pillars along the home, and trimmed the doors and windows. The final touch to the outside décor was welcoming wreaths which framed the double doors and each window.
“I’ve seen nothing grander,” Lucy stated with awe as Matthew reached up and helped her down from the wagon. He escorted her up the steps to the front door.
“Are you ready?”
With a nod, she whispered, “As I’ll ever be.”
Matthew rang the doorbell and the door opened. On the other side, the Moore butler greeted them. He ushered them into the entryway adorned with vast bunches of beautiful, red poinsettias. Garland cascaded down the banisters of the stairs leading to the second story.
Standing in the front of the room were the Moores. Mr. Moore greeted them with a welcoming smile and an outstretched hand. “Good evening, Miss Rogers, Mr. McCoy.”
Mrs. Moore gathered Lucy into her arms as she proclaimed, “It’s good to see you, dear. You look wonderful tonight.”
Matthew looked over at his fiancée with admiration. Mrs. Moore was right. Lucy looked fetching in her emerald-green evening gown which hugged her figure flawlessly. The bodice was lined with velvet trim, and the bottom of the full-skirt cascaded down in folds of satin. Her blond curls were piled high on top of her head. Golden drops of opals accented her ears, an early Christmas gift from Matthew.
“I have to agree with you, Mrs. Moore. Lucy is the most stunning woman at the party.”
Lucy elbowed him in the ribs and corrected him. “Besides Mrs. Moore, you mean.”
A reddening crept over Matthew at the oversight. He amended, “Of course. Our hostess looks a vision tonight.”
Mrs. Moore chuckled. “I’m glad you’ve found your match, Matthew. Lucy keeps you on your toes. You need that.” With a wink and a wave behind her, she dismissed them. “Enjoy the evening.”
As they walked away, Matthew heard Mrs. Moore say to her husband, “Ah, the joys of young love. It does me good to see all our young ones finding happiness.”
Matthew marveled at how Mrs. Moore outdid herself every year. A mixture of candle centerpieces, miniature trees and holly were displayed on all the tables surrounding the giant evergreen tree in the middle of the dining room. Countless elaborately wrapped Christmas presents lay under the tree's branches. The mantle of the massive fireplace on the far end of the room donned a red silk cloth with green fringe. It was complemented with a spray of holiday flowers in milk glass vases on each end.
Beside him, Lucy gasped as she leaned towards him and whispered, “You said the Moores’ parties were extravagant, but you didn’t do it justice.”
“You’ve never been to one of their parties before?” he asked with incredulousness.
With an arched eyebrow, Lucy smirked. “You really think I was ever invited to one of these events before I was engaged to you?”
“The whole town is invited every year. It’s a tradition.”
“Really? Do you see any of the other workers from The Trail’s End or the sawmill here?”
Matthew glanced around the room and realized Lucy was astute in her observation. None of the working class was present, besides the town’s business owners, who were part of the wealthy and influential part of West Linn society.
“Well, it must have been an oversight.” Even as he said the words, he knew, despite how generous the Moores were; they socialized with their peers. Before more could be said on the subject, Debbey and William approached them.
“How are both of you faring?” William inquired.
“We are doing well.” He patted William on the back, “How are you recovering from last night’s adventure?”
“Sore and chagrined, but other than that, my pride is mending. I still owe you payback.”
“You can try,” Matthew teased.
With a roll of her eyes, Lucy smiled at her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “You look lovely tonight, Debbey.”
“My gown was a gift from William. He picked it up in Oregon City earlier this week.” Matthew glanced at the dress his sister was wearing. The dark blue gown looked expensive. He noticed Lucy was touching it admiringly. It was a newer fashion than Lucy’s dress with its off the shoulder sleeves and a bustle in the back. Debbey also wore a thick pink velvet ribbon around her neck that tied in a bow and trailed behind with matching wristlet gloves.
“I’ve never had the pleasure of owning a new dress,” Lucy confessed. “I usually buy my dresses second-hand.”
Matthew never knew that. His heart lurched at the pain in her voice. A deep wish to give her as many new dresses as she wanted took hold of Matthew.
“Well, I’ve seen your wedding dress, and it’s almost finished. I have to say, your first new dress will be the most stunning dress in the Oregon Territory.”
“Thank you, Debbey. You’re always so good to me. Gaining you as my new sister is the second best part of marrying your brother.”
“What’s the first?” Matthew asked with fake ignorance, trying to lighten the mood.
Mirth crept into Lucy’s eyes. “You know full well the first reason is you.”
Amelie and Pierre arrived next. “Sorry we were late,” Amelie apologized. “I wasn’t feeling well today, and I took longer than usual to get ready.”
“At least you made it,” Debbey sympathized.
Mr. and Mrs. Moore entered the room, strolling to the center in front of the Christmas tree. “Welcome, dear friends. We’re glad to celebrate with all of you. In two days, it will be the night our Lord sent His Son down to us in the form of baby Jesus. Oh, what a blessed night. This Christmas Day, we have a special event. Our very own West Linn-ers, Matthew McCoy and Lucy Rogers will get married.”
There were scattered claps around the room but Matthew noticed, most of the townsfolk present were responding half-heartedly. When were they going to accept the fact that Lucy was the woman he loved, and with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life?<
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“Everyone has assigned seats, so please find them. The servers will bring out the first course of the meal momentarily.”
Matthew walked amongst the tables and found he and Lucy had been placed at a table with his parents. It would be a long night.
Lucy’s heart sunk when she saw her name next to Mrs. McCoy. She had been looking forward to this evening all week and now it was ruined. How was she going to get through the meal sitting next to a woman who despised her?
Amelie walked up and looked at the place cards. A worried expression crossed her face. “Oh, no, Lucy. I’m so sorry.”
“What? What are you both looking at?” Debbey questioned before her eyes fixed on the names. With a shrug, Debbey picked up both places cards for Lucy and Matthew and exchanged them with the ones at the next table.
“You can’t do that,” Lucy stated with shock.
“I certainly can. I know for certain my parents aren’t here yet and neither are the Waterfords. No one will be the wiser.”
Lucy smiled with gratitude. “Thank you, Debbey. I appreciate you helping me out like that.”
“I think you will have to work things out with my parents; however, tonight is not the night to worry about that.”
Everyone took their places around the tables. The last few guests arrived before the first course was served. Lucy noticed Mrs. Moore glanced at the two tables with a puzzled expression a couple of times, but never made her way over to ask what happened.
“Are both of you excited about your upcoming wedding?” Mrs. Waterford inquired. Her husband was the bank manager, and they often hosted events for the church. Even though Mrs. Waterford socialized with Mrs. McCoy, she had always been nice to Lucy, a welcomed reprieve from her normal treatment by their friends.
“We are indeed,” Matthew stated with a grin. “Two days from now, Lucy will make me the happiest man in the world.”
“I for one, can’t wait to attend your nuptials. After attending your sister’s impressive wedding. I know with her planning it, yours will be equally splendid.”