“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Perla said.
27
DELILAH AND EMILY ROSE EARLY the day of the wedding to direct Casewell, Robert, George, and Steve in decorating the church. They sent the men out to cut armloads of the prettiest autumn leaves and any flowers they could find. While everything had been dead and dusty just two months earlier, nature seemed intent on making up for lost time with an exceptionally lush and colorful autumn that had lasted well into November. Delilah raided the sewing section of the store for lengths of ribbon and lace to tie bunches of leaves to the pews. Mason jars and vases filled with autumn flowers sat on every available surface. Wreaths with leaves, apples, grapes, and rose hips graced the front doors of the church.
All was ready when Casewell went home to change and then arrive an hour early to pace and fret. He wanted to go to the Thorntons’ house and watch Perla’s every move. He couldn’t bear the thought of her slipping away from him again. Robert arrived about the time Casewell was debating driving by the Thorntons’ to be sure Perla was really there.
“A mite early, aren’t you?”
“I had nothing else to do.” Casewell clasped his hands behind his back and paced between the two front doors of the church. “Shouldn’t the women be here by now? Shouldn’t someone be here by now?” He looked at his watch. “It’s not more than twenty-five minutes until the wedding.”
Robert grinned. “Women take their own sweet time most days. I’ve found they tend to fiddle around even more on wedding days.” The smile slipped a little. “As for everyone else, I’m not sure there will be all that many. Seems like some folks are still a little shy of Perla.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Not everyone thinks Perla is the best choice for you, Casewell.” Robert held up a hand as Casewell began to protest. “I’m not suggesting they’re a bit right. But people are funny, and some of them might stay home today. Of course, those are the ones that aren’t worth having here.”
Delilah and Emily finally arrived with Perla, not long after Frank escorted the Talbot sisters into the church. Frank looked like he was ready to attend his own wedding, dapper in a suit with his white hair slicked back. Angie and Liza wore matching plum-colored, high-necked dresses with lace overlays, lace gloves, and old-fashioned hats with short veils. Angie grumped about wearing matching clothes, something she never cared for among twins. But when Robert bowed low to the ground and said she’d never looked prettier, she smiled, rapped him on the shoulder, and accused him of being a flatterer and a scoundrel.
A handful of other folks from the church were also there, milling around, but it looked like the prediction of a small gathering would come true. Emily leaned over to Delilah and whispered that she was a little bit relieved, seeing as how they had only enough food for those they counted on.
Perla waited for Casewell to disappear inside before she slipped out of the backseat of the car with Sadie, who looked less like an angel than an impish sprite. Her reddish curls had been tamed early that morning, but they were already beginning to escape and fly about her head.
Inside the church, Mavis Sanders, already the church’s primary piano player though only in her early teens, struck up a passable rendition of the wedding march. Perla moved toward the church door closest to her and took a deep breath. But before she could send Sadie down the aisle, she heard the purr of a car coming up the mountain. Or perhaps it was the sound of two cars.
Those still outside turned to see who the latecomer was as a parade of cars began to fill the gravel lot and spill over onto the grass. Perla gaped as people began pouring out of the cars, Cathy in the lead and carrying Travis.
“Hey, there,” Cathy called out. “We’ve come to see the marrying.” She stepped up to Perla and made a face that might have been her attempt at a smile. “That child there,” she said, pointing at Sadie with her chin, “has a heart of gold and showed more kindness to my little ’un than anyone else. I reckon anyone who raises a child up like that is better than some. Seems like the least we can do is come on out and see that this child gets a mama and a daddy.” She looked at the ground, then raised her eyes to meet Perla’s. “I guess I’m right proud to have you marry into our church.”
Cathy moved on inside, and a stream of people, most of whom Perla had helped feed over the long dry summer, walked by her nodding, shaking her hand, and even giving her hugs. When the last person stepped inside the church, it was standing room only.
There was a moment’s quiet; then Mavis started playing again. Delilah sent Sadie down the aisle and then gave Perla a little tug toward the door. Perla shot her a wild look. “It’ll be fine,” hissed Delilah. “I’m going to walk down that aisle, and you’d better be right behind me. Trust me, I’ll come back and get you if you aren’t.”
Twenty minutes later the crowd began spilling out both doors, ready to celebrate.
“What in the world are we going to do?” Casewell heard his mother ask Delilah. “We can never feed this many.”
“We’ll feed them until the food is gone. I can’t see what else there is to do. I guess I could get some stuff in tins from down at the store, but that doesn’t seem right.”
Mom tried to smile and shoved her son away. “Guess we should have let Perla cook after all.”
Delilah laughed. “You know, the Lord has provided before. Who’s to say He won’t do it again?”
Casewell didn’t care if anyone ate—he was married and that was all that mattered.
Perla watched in stunned amazement as the crowd found their way to Robert and Delilah’s house for the reception, where guests crammed into every nook and cranny. The dining room, which could seat twelve, became a buffet, with the chairs pulled out from the table and arranged around the house in the living room, on the porch, and even under a tree in the front yard. Delilah, Emily, and the Talbot sisters set out what food they had. Emily shook her head and allowed as how it wouldn’t go far.
And then the guests began to add their bounty to the feast. Cathy had plates of deviled eggs, as did several other ladies. Perla counted six apple pies and several loaves of light bread with fresh butter and jars of preserves. There was a haunch of venison, braised rabbit, and fried chicken piled high on platters. Bowls of vegetables sat next to cakes of cornbread. Fudge found its place beside bowls of freshly cracked walnuts. And the food just kept coming.
Cathy edged up next to Emily and handed Travis over to be cuddled. “We figured you might not be expecting the lot of us, so we decided to pitch in.” She smiled at Travis, who was resting his head on Emily’s shoulder. “He likes you’uns.” She scuffed a foot and tucked her hands behind her back. “I’m grateful for the cure Sadie done showed me. And I’m sorry for any trouble I caused.”
“No trouble,” Emily said. She rested her cheek on Travis’s curly brown hair. “No trouble at all.”
“It’s a miracle,” Casewell said. He tucked Perla snug against his side as everyone he’d ever known and a few he had yet to meet paraded through the house with full plates and ready words of congratulation.
“The food?” asked Perla.
“No. That you’re my wife. I wasn’t sure it would happen.”
“Neither was I.” Perla gave her husband an impish grin, and he smiled back down at her as if they were the only two people in the overcrowded house. “I think Sadie is the star this evening,” she added as their daughter pranced by with several children following in her wake.
“Sadie is a blessing better than any of us deserves,” Casewell said.
Then he leaned over and kissed his wife, not caring who was watching.
Acknowledgments
HOW MANY PEOPLE DOES IT TAKE to write a book? How many people do I know? I wish I could personally thank every person who has touched my life because, in some way, each of them has contributed to my writing. There are a few, however, I’d like to thank specifically.
My parents, Larry and Nancy Loudin, who each passed on their love-of-words
gene so that I got a double dose. My great-aunt Bess who taught me all about God, sometimes with words. Grandma Burla who taught me you don’t have to be a blood relation to love someone a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. And my brothers, David and Daniel Loudin, who gave me SO much fodder for my stories.
And then there’s my agent, Wendy Lawton, who loved my book just as it was. My editors, David and Sarah Long, as well as Sharon Asmus, who were generous in their praise and delicate in their suggestions for improvement. And all the folks at Bethany House who walked me through this publication process. Thank goodness you know what you’re doing, ’cause I’m still figuring this out.
Thanks to the women of Christian fiction who have walked this road with me—sometimes briefly and sometimes mile after plodding (plotting?) mile. Laura Frantz, Heather Gilbert, Yvonne Lehman, Jennifer Major, Cindy Sproles, Ann Tatlock, and all of the Blue Ridge Writers.
Then there are the friends who don’t necessarily write, but who gather around me to pray, support, and love on me. Meg Barbour, Christy Bennett, Jeannie Burns, Madeline Dillingham, Suzi Gibbs, Lisa McCallister, Carla McLendon, Jessie Ogle, Judy Ross, Rhonda Turpin, Buffy White, and Joan Wilson.
Penultimate thanks (isn’t that the best word?) go to the man who has been there every step of the way. Thanks for being patient—mostly—with the hours of writing, rewriting, social media, conferences, and so on. I literally couldn’t have done this without my husband, Jim Thomas, cheering me on. God knew what He was doing that night He rained out a football game.
Finally, ultimate thanks go to God. I don’t know why He made me a writer, but He did, and I know His plan is perfect. I thank Him for the gift of words and for the patient endurance to write them.
Sarah Loudin Thomas is a fund-raiser for Black Mountain Home for Children, Youth and Families. She has published free-lance writing for Now & Then magazine as well as the Asheville Citizen-Times and the Journey Christian Newspaper. Her poetry has appeared in Now & Then, Appalachian Heritage, and the Pisgah Review. She holds a bachelor’s degree in English from Coastal Carolina University. She and her husband reside in Asheville, North Carolina. Learn more at www.SarahLoudinThomas.com.
Reader Discussion Questions
When Perla shared Sadie’s parentage with Casewell, he judged her. In what ways do you judge other people? Have you ever kept information to yourself because you didn’t want to be judged?
John, Emily, and Casewell each deal with John’s cancer diagnosis differently. How have you handled difficult information in your life?
John assumes people are praying for him but doubts that it will have any effect. What effect do you think prayer has in people’s lives?
Perla says that things always work out—not necessarily the way we expect—but they work out. Do you agree with that statement? Why or why not?
People tried to explain Perla’s gift away by calling it witchcraft. How do we try to explain away the miraculous? Have you ever witnessed something you couldn’t explain?
Perla talks about people’s tendency to place labels on one another. How have you labeled others? How have you been labeled?
The community came together to help one another during the drought. How have you seen people come together in times of need?
Casewell is called upon to preach a sermon at church. If you had to preach a sermon, what topic would you choose? Why?
Casewell thinks he needs a lesson in wooing Perla. In your opinion, what’s the best way to show someone you care about them?
Perla feels unworthy of love—have you ever felt unworthy? What do you think makes people worth loving?
Although Emily has been kind to Perla, she has qualms when it comes to her son marrying a “scarlet woman.” Have you ever caught yourself having double standards?
Ultimately, just about everyone in the novel needed to be forgiven. Who do you need to ask for forgiveness? Who do you need to forgive? What stands in your way?
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Miracle in a Dry Season Page 24