She arrived at the church earlier than usual and was stunned to find Cassie Bly seated—not next to John Ogilvie—but to Doc Klein. Surely there had been some mix-up in the communication. Belinda drew near the doctor, who was grinning like a schoolboy as he listened to Cassie talk about her plans to build a dress shop. On and on she went, talking about her dress designs, the patterns she planned to sell, and even the types of fabrics. As if the man cared one whit about fabrics. Still, he sat gazing into her eyes as if she’d cast some sort of spell on him.
“Doc?” Belinda gave him a warning look. “Could I have a moment of your time?”
“Perhaps after the service, Belinda,” he said, shooing her away. “I am otherwise occupied at the present.”
“Indeed you are.” She shook her head then took a few steps, looking for Greta. Maybe she would know what to make of this.
Greta was apparently looking for her, as well. She rushed to Belinda’s side and grabbed her by the arm.
“Do you see what’s happened?” she whispered.
“It would be hard to miss.”
“Doc Klein and Cassie met in town yesterday,” Greta added. “You’re not going to believe it, but she took a fancy to him right away. Turns out they both have family in South Carolina. Mutual friends, even.”
“Are you serious?”
“Never more so. And what do you think about this? Cassie is telling Doc Klein all about her plans to make costumes for the new opera house. Before you know it, she’ll be volunteering to make bandages for his practice. Why, he’s absolutely mesmerized by her. Spellbound.”
“What about John?” Belinda asked, looking around to find him. “Is he brokenhearted?”
“To put it mildly. He’s pacing at the back of the church with a pained expression on his face. I’ve never seen him so upset.”
“Oh dear. My heart goes out to him. Oh, what a mess this has turned out to be!”
Belinda went to speak to him, hoping he would hold his temper in check. She took Greta along for safe measure. She arrived to find him pacing and glaring...at Doc Klein.
Belinda drew near, whispering her opening line. “John, I understand there’s been a mix-up of sorts.” She reached to touch his arm, but he pulled away quickly.
“I don’t believe I would call it a mix-up. It’s clear what’s happening here.” He turned to face her with anger emanating from his eyes. “Doc Klein has stolen my woman.”
“Well, stolen is a harsh word,” Belinda said. “I think it’s clear neither of them set out to fancy one another. But sometimes our hearts have a way of tricking us.” She paused to think about what she’d just said. Yes, it was true. Even her own heart had deceived her at times.
“So what am I to do?” John asked. “Become the laughingstock of the town, like Myles Lott? Be known as the man who was ditched by a mail-order bride? Or traded in for an older model?”
“Surely people will see this for what it is,” Belinda said.
“I can see it plain as day,” he said. “And I also see that someone owes me some money. I paid a retainer fee and covered the cost of Cassie’s ticket from Charleston. If she ends up with the doc, he’d better pay me back.”
“Well, that’s where things get tricky,” Belinda said. “He paid for Rebecca to come, after all, so in essence, he paid for one bride and ended up with another. I think that means I’m square with Doc Klein, should he really take a serious interest in Cassie.”
“Well, you’re certainly not square with me. I paid for one bride and got nothing in return.” A sour look crossed John’s face. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Belinda. She wondered if he might take to sparring with her right there in the house of the Lord.
“Come now, John.” Greta intervened, taking him by the arm. “Let’s go outside for a walk. We will try to calm ourselves.” She patted his arm. “I think you can rest easy in the fact that the Lord obviously never intended for you to marry Cassie in the first place. Think of the pain you have been spared by avoiding such a hasty and uneventful marriage. Why, who knows what you might’ve had to endure.”
He exhaled loudly and then gazed at Greta and shrugged. “I suppose. I never thought about it from that angle before. Perhaps I have been spared a greater pain.”
“Well, you’ve never been in this situation before.” She patted his hand. “How are you to know what to do? That’s why you need the counsel of another woman. Come with me, and we will talk this through.”
Belinda could have hugged Greta right then and there. She’d managed to calm the storm before it took the building down.
As soon as Greta and John headed off for their walk and she entered the sanctuary once more, Belinda discovered Adeline sitting with George’s family. Mrs. Kaufman talked nonstop with the young woman. Clearly, she had taken to her. Why that thought bothered Belinda so much, she did not know. She started to walk over there, to say hello, but decided against it. Somehow, it just felt wrong.
The service was just minutes from starting when Myles Lott approached Belinda. She managed to dodge him by ducking behind her mother and slipping into the pew. Once settled, she reached for a hymnal and pretended to be reading it. Surely the man wouldn’t bother her in church with her nose in a hymnal.
He paused at the end of her row and gave her a glance but didn’t say a word. Oh, she knew he wanted to. He’d probably want to know why she hadn’t fetched a second potential bride for him. To be honest, she didn’t feel like it. In fact, she didn’t feel like pairing up anyone these days. She felt rather deflated whenever she thought of it, in fact. The fun had all frittered away. Sure, the town was filled with happy couples, but it seemed there were more discontent than content. She had no idea how to fix this.
A few minutes into the service, the back door of the church opened and Peter Conrad slipped inside. Funny, he was never late. Funnier still, he made his way up the aisle and settled into an empty seat next to Sarah Jo, who beamed like a Cheshire cat.
Belinda swallowed her astonishment and focused on the reverend, who asked the congregation to open their Bibles to the story of Isaac and Rebecca. She hadn’t thought about that story in ages. She listened with interest as he talked about the emotional needs in Isaac’s life after losing his mother and how Rebecca had entered his life at just the right time. Funny, she’d never thought about that before. But God’s timing was always perfect.
Hmm. Perhaps that warranted a bit more thought. If one got ahead of God, did it interrupt His perfect timing? And if one lagged behind, did it throw the Almighty off course? She pondered these things as the message continued, even spending some time in prayer about it as the congregation prepared to sing the final hymn.
Afterward, the reverend got everyone’s attention. “We’ll be having another wedding in a few minutes, as most of you are aware. Samuel Bromstead and Ella Hanson have invited all of you to stay and join them for their nuptials on the church lawn.”
Another wedding. Instead of celebrating the fact, Belinda found herself feeling a bit apathetic. Oh, she was happy for the bride and groom, of course. And happy that she’d somehow played a role in bringing them together, naturally. But every time she thought about weddings, she pictured Adeline and George and wondered what their big day would be like. Would Adeline carry wildflowers or roses? Would she wear a new dress? If so, what would it look like? Would George’s eyes pop as he saw her marching down the aisle?
With a sigh, Belinda focused on Samuel and Ella. There would be plenty of time to think about George and Adeline later. If she chose to think of them at all.
***
George watched the marriage of Samuel Bromstead and the widow Hanson with a smile, wondering what was going through Belinda’s mind. Surely she was responsible for this match. No one else had quite believed it when she suggested the two start courting, but they did indeed seem to be well suited.
And speaking of people being well suited, George looked around for Belinda. He could hardly wait to get her take on the
latest debacle. Cassie and Doc Klein appeared to be interested in each other, much to John Ogilvie’s chagrin.
“Is everything all right?” Adeline slipped her arm through his.
“Oh, yes. I’m just looking for...” He glanced through the crowd. “Looking for someone.”
“Oh?” Adeline stared into his eyes, and he practically melted. What was it about this woman?
Just then, Belinda happened by. She looked his way, but as their eyes met, she shifted her gaze. Strange. George lifted his hand to wave at her, but she quickly ducked through the crowd and headed off to the far side of the lawn. If he didn’t know any better, he would say she was avoiding him. But why? Had he done something to hurt her feelings?
The thought of hurting Belinda struck a deep chord. He could hardly bear the thought of injuring her in any way. “You should sit awhile,” he said to Adeline. “Would you like me to fetch a glass of punch? I hear it’s quite good.”
“Yes, please.” She opened her parasol and held it over her head to block the sun. “I would be grateful, George. And I do believe I will sit. The heat is bothering me.” She looked at him with a warm smile. “Not that I’m opposed to the heat, mind you. It’s just going to take some getting used to. Boston is already facing autumn’s chill, you know.”
“I understand.” After getting her settled into a lawn chair near his mother, George went in search of punch. He went in search of something else, too. He had to find Belinda, had to get to the bottom of this. If he had hurt her, he needed to make it right. Somehow.
Off in the distance, he saw her talking to John and Greta. Perfect. He could slip through the crowd and get to her just in time....
No, just as she saw him coming, she slipped away, heading off to talk to Doc Klein and Cassie. George paused to talk to Greta, hoping she would offer a hint about Belinda’s strange behavior. Unfortunately, he found Greta and John engaged in an eye-to-eye chat about heartbreak. Unwilling to interfere, he backed off and continued his search for Belinda.
“Ah. There she is.” She glanced up and met his gaze. For a moment, he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes. He waved and then took a few steps in her direction. For whatever reason, she hiked her skirt to her ankles and began to sprint in the opposite direction.
George stopped in his tracks. No point in pursuing her if she didn’t want to talk to him. But what had he done to warrant such unusual behavior?
“Everything all right, son?”
George turned when he heard his father’s gentle voice.
“Oh, yes sir. I...” His voice trailed off.
“I understand you’ve gone in search of punch for the ladies.” His father gave him a curious look. “Mighty odd, since the punch bowl is on the opposite side of the church lawn.”
“Oh, yes. Well, I was just trying to...” Again his words failed him. George gave his father a wistful look, hoping he would let it go. Fortunately, his father simply nodded and patted him on the back.
“You know, son, I’ve learned that some things are worth waiting for.”
“Sir?”
“It’s kind of like a cup of cold punch on a hot afternoon. The longer you have to wait for it, the more satisfying it is to finally get it. If you get my meaning.”
Though he wasn’t completely sure, George nodded. It would be better not to ask for a full explanation. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if his father had somehow seen right through his skin into his very heart. How else could he know that George had been waiting not for Adeline, but for Belinda Bauer?
Turning in the direction of the punch bowl, George forced a smile. Suddenly, a cup of cold punch sounded mighty good.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Belinda spent much of Sunday afternoon dodging George Kaufman. If she stopped to talk to him, her heart would surely give her away, and that would never do. Not now, with George and Adeline so happily matched. She managed to chat with everyone in the congregation, bouncing her way from one spot on the church lawn to another. Finally, when exhaustion settled in, she decided to sneak into the church for a few minutes of peace and quiet.
Once inside, she settled into the back pew and reached for a hymnal. As always, the words of the songs brought comfort. She searched from page to page until she found exactly the right one, a hymn by Horatio Spafford—one of her favorites. She hummed as she read the familiar words.
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
A noise at the back door startled her, and she dropped the hymnbook. In that moment, George slipped into the pew beside her.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“O–oh?” She looked his way only for a second and then scrambled to pick up the hymnal, her hands trembling.
“Belinda, I’ve done something to hurt you. You’ve got to tell me what it is so I can make it right.”
“Hurt me?” She lifted the hymnal and put it back into its spot on the back of the pew. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Belinda.” He reached to take her hand. “Please.”
She closed her eyes and squeezed back the tears that threatened to erupt.
“You’re trembling.”
“I am?”
“Yes.” He gazed into her eyes. “Something has happened.”
She managed a nod.
“Something to do with me, or are you just upset about the way things are going with John and Cassie?”
Oh, if only she didn’t have to answer that question! If only she could avoid it altogether. After a lingering pause, she whispered, “Well, I am sorry to hear that Cassie broke John’s heart, to be sure. And I’m concerned about how I can make this right. But, beyond that...” Her heart thumped in her ears as she tried to work up the courage to tell him what was really bothering her.
She never had a chance to finish. The back door of the church swung open and Sarah Jo entered with Adeline on her arm.
“Well, there you are!” Adeline said, as she saw George. “I was getting worried.”
“Poor thing couldn’t find you, so I told her I’d help her look.” Sarah Jo glanced at Belinda, then back at George, clearly unsure of what to do next. “Well, I will leave you to your own devices, then. Er, I’ll leave you alone.” She headed out the door, leaving Adeline standing in the aisle of the church.
“Do—do you need me to leave?” she asked.
“No.” Belinda rose and scooted past George. “We were just finishing up. George and I...” She wasn’t sure what to say next, so instead she darted out the back door and ran toward home as fast as her legs could carry her.
***
George had a hard time sleeping on Sunday night. He rose from his bed around one in the morning and slipped on his shoes, convinced that a walk outside would settle his troubled thoughts. All day long he had wrestled with the Lord over what had happened with Belinda in the church earlier today. She’d started to tell him something, but what?
On top of this, George still found himself struggling over something else, too—his feelings toward Adeline Rose, or lack thereof. She was a remarkable woman, to be sure. And she’d been mighty patient with him these past couple of weeks, likely waiting for him to state his intentions. Oh, if only he knew what they were, then he would voice them. Until then, it made more sense to say nothing, even if his lack of response troubled her.
George grabbed a lantern and headed outside, deep in thought. He went to the one place he always found solace when troubled—the barn. His family didn’t own much of a farm, just a few acres and a couple of dairy cows, but he always managed to find the barn a place to voice his thoughts to the Lord. And the cows. Daisy and Milly didn’t seem to mind. They always heard him out without complaint. Surely tonight would be no different.
George eased his way across the yard, careful not to wake his parents. Unfortunately, Buster, the family’s coonhound, got spo
oked and let out a howl. George quieted him right away then kept walking. “C’mon, boy,” he whispered. “We’ve got some business to do.”
He entered the barn and hung the lantern, his eyes adjusting to the space. Then he began to pace, as always. His mind went several directions at once, but he finally managed to collect his thoughts into a sensible prayer.
“Lord, I don’t want to get ahead of you. You know me, Lord. I’m sensible. Practical. I’m not the sort to jump ahead of the pack. I’m more calculated than that.”
Suddenly the barn door swung open and a voice rang out. “Son, do you mind if I ask what you’re doing out here in the middle of the night?”
Surprised, George turned to face his father, who stood bleary-eyed with a lantern in hand. “I’m sorry I woke you. I’ve just got a lot on my mind and needed to clear my head.”
“Trouble with the ladies?” He father asked, taking a seat on a bale of hay.
“I guess you could call it that.” George sat next to him with a shrug. “Strange how I lived my whole life without giving much thought to women, and now...”
“Now you’re having to give the fairer sex some thought?” His father laughed. “Son, let me tell you something. They’re worth giving thought to. In fact, the more thoughtful you are about any decisions you might make, the better. I’ve known many a man to marry impulsively and then regret it later. I would only ask that you move thoughtfully and carefully.”
“I am. No doubt about that. I just have to wonder if I’m ready to marry at all.”
“Well, I can tell you from experience, having married the best woman in the world, that getting the right one is the key thing. To be mismatched while courting is one thing. To be mismatched for fifty years as husband and wife is another altogether. I’ve known a few of those couples in my day. Not a pretty picture, for any involved.”
Boxed Set: Deep in the Heart of Texas: Hurricane, Mismatched in Texas, Christmas at the Crossroads Page 39