“They’re here!” James hollered at the top of his lungs.
Starting forward, Nate felt his brawny brother’s hand staying him. “No you don’t. I’ll go help the women. You two go stand up front. You ain’t allowed to see yer brides till they come traipsin’ up the aisle.”
Nate swapped a wry glance with Bob as Jonah and his carrottops hurried outside.
It seemed to take forever for the door to open again. But soon enough, it swung wide, and Jonah’s dark-haired younger sons, Norman and Nathan, burst in with the exuberance possessed only by seven- and five-year-olds. Both were in their Sunday best, rumpled from play. “We’re here!”
Little white-haired Pastor Reynolds, bespectacled and attired in somber black, followed the boys. He shook a bony finger at them. “You boys need to settle down and be quiet. Sit over there.” He nodded to Nate and Bob as he joined them down front.
The waiting was getting to Nate. He swiped his damp palms down the fancy maroon frock coat he’d borrowed from his brother then grinned at Bob, who wore a gold-trimmed brown outfit he’d left at home and looked as anxious as Nate felt. “Sure are a couple’a dandies, ain’t we?”
Bob, in a cravat of ruffles up to his chin, grunted and kept staring at the door.
Finally it opened again, admitting Ma and Margaret in their finery, carrying Jenny and three-year-old Gracie. Reaching the front pew, Ma handed the baby to Maggie then ambled up to Nate and Bob. She fussed with their frilly cravats and tugged down the backs of their frock coats. “There.” She stood back and looked them both up and down. “You’ll do.” Turning around, she spotted James in the back of the room. “Tell the gals they can come in now. Then you an’ Evan come sit with us.”
Hand in hand with Shining Star, Rose stepped in, looking like a princess in a frilly lavender frock of Margaret’s. A garland of holly wove through her upswept hair, while wisps of soft ringlets around her face added an exquisite fragile quality to her delicate features. Nate could hardly draw breath at her incredible beauty.
Beside her, Shining Star looked equally stunning in another of Margaret’s dresses, this one in ivory taffeta with ecru lace, a combination that accented her tanned skin. A wreath of holly adorned her glossy black hair that hung straight to her waist.
Nate heard Bob’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of his beloved, and he wondered how he and Bob could have gotten so lucky. Thank You, Lord.
But his brother was right. How could someone like Rose want to marry him? Was she coming to him merely out of gratitude? He had to know. Ignoring her solemn expression as she drew nearer, he shook his head. “Reverend, would you be kind enough to excuse us a minute?”
Grabbing Rose’s hand, he all but dragged her to the back of the church, leaving behind a chorus of gasps. There he turned to her, positioning himself as a shield to hide her confusion from the family. He took her by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “I’m givin’ you one last chance to back out, Rose. You’re much too fine a lady for a backwoods fella like me. You don’t have to go through with this weddin’. I’ll still take you anywhere you want to go, get you an’ your sisters set up however you—”
She put a finger to his lips and stared up at him a moment. “Could it be that you’re the one who’s getting cold feet?”
He stood his ground. “Your last chance. Once we’re married, that’s it. I ain’t ever lettin’ you go.”
“I’ll hold you to that, my loose-footed frontiersman. I told you I love you, Nate Kinyon, and I do. More than I can ever express. So let’s go get married.”
A huge grin spread across his face. He hauled her into his arms and gave her the kind of kiss he’d wanted so long to give her.
“Nate. Nate.” Jonah tapped his shoulder. “Don’t you know nothin’? The kiss comes after, not before.”
Nate gazed down at his Rose. “Yeah. After, too.”
“And every day after that,” Rose whispered, her eyes on him alone. “Every day after that.”
Epilogue
Drinking in the fragile beauty of spring, Rose walked up the knoll that soon would be theirs. Nate trotted ahead with giggly Jenny Ann on his shoulders. Watching after them, Rose noticed that the snow was gone from all but the highest hills, and the meadows overflowed with wildflowers in a rainbow of hues.
“Come on, slowpoke.” Nate motioned her forward. “Let’s eat in the kitchen.”
Smiling to herself, she grasped the food basket tighter and hurried to catch up. Today was finally warm enough to have a picnic …on the very spot where Nate would build their home. Robert had so wanted them to live nearby he’d deeded half his father’s farm to Nate.
“Our kitchen’ll have milled boards.” Nate swung the toddler to the ground. “An’ as many windows as you want. We’ll paint the place any color you fancy.”
Rose reveled in the joy in his eyes. Her husband had insisted on spending the savings his mother had socked away for him to build her a proper house, as he called it. “I’m partial to yellow, I think, with black shutters and a front porch. Yellow will always remind me of Jenny Ann after she goes to live with her grandparents.” At the thought, some of her joy faded.
Nate tugged her close and kissed her cheek. “Today, sweetheart, Jenny’s ours. And today me and our little angel are hungry. Ain’t that right, firefly?”
The little curly-top looked up from where she squatted to pull at a violet.
“Lunch it is, then.” Rose lowered the basket to the ground. “Where exactly did you say the kitchen would be?”
Before he answered, Nate spied their two friends coming up the road in the farm wagon and waved at them with both arms. “Here come Bob an’ Star. Do we have enough to share with them?”
Rose laughed. “By all means. They shall be our first guests in our new home. Help me spread the cloth, sweetheart.”
While Robert parked his wagon in front of the barn and started across the meadow with Shining Star, Rose got out the platter of fried chicken and the loaf of fresh-baked bread and set it on the tablecloth with the not-so-welcome help of Jenny Ann.
“You two are just in time.” Nate gestured toward the food. “As Rose said, our first guests.”
Happy and relaxed even after a trip to the settlement, Star smiled at Rose. With a toss of her long hair, she pulled a bunch of colorful ribbons from the pocket of her sage chambray skirt. “Ribbons. For you and me and Jenny.”
“Wonderful.” Appreciating the thoughtful gift as much as Star’s advancement in learning English, she patted the spot beside her. “Sit down. I want to hear about your day.”
Once everyone was busy eating, Nate turned to Bob. “Any word in town about what the French are up to these days? Now that the rivers are thawed good, we should be hearin’ somethin’.”
“Aye.” Robert wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Remember that Washington fella what was headed to Logstown an’ Venanga with them letters? You know, from Governor Dinwiddie, askin’ the Frenchies to leave? Well, hear tell he managed to escape by the skin of his teeth—an’ we know how that feels. Folks along the seaboard have made him a big hero. The governor’s sendin’ him up to Frederick County on the Virginia side of the Delaware to raise a militia. An’ he sent Bill Trent, Washington’s tracker, farther south to Augusta County to raise another one.”
Noticing Nate’s keen interest in the news made Rose uneasy, but she kept quiet, waiting to hear what he had to say.
“Augusta County. Ain’t that down where the Shenandoah splits off? Sounds like the governor’s finally takin’ things serious.”
“That ain’t all.” Robert smirked. “He sent letters to every other governor, lettin’ ‘em know his plans, an’ letters to all the tribes to take up the hatchet against the French.”
“Good.” Nate gave a thoughtful nod. “Insist they take one side or the other, not desert us like the Shawnees did.”
“Frederick County ain’t but ten miles away, across the river. What say we go give them boys a hand?”
&
nbsp; The thing Rose feared most Bob had put into words. She turned troubled eyes to Nate.
He pulled her into a hug. “It’s all right, honey-pie. I ain’t goin’ nowheres till we have the house all built, the crops planted, an’ a garden in, just like we talked about. An’ not till after we see your sisters an’—” His gaze shifted to Jenny, sitting in the middle of the tablecloth, chewing on a crust of bread in her little yellow dress.
Rose knew what he’d left unsaid. And till we take Jenny up north to her relatives.
“Right.” Bob cut a glance to Star. “The war ain’t goin’ away anytime soon. We can always join up later. Oh. Speakin’ of Rose’s sisters, I brung back letters. The post rider come through last week.”
Letters! Rose could hardly wait for Robert to pull them out of his linsey-woolsey shirt.
“This one’s for you, Nate.” Robert handed the first to him. “An’ Rose, these’re for you.”
She quickly scanned the outside to see who they were from. Two were from England! She hadn’t heard from her father since she’d left Bath. The others were from her sisters. “Would you excuse me for a few minutes?” Without waiting for an answer, she strolled away from her friends and walked down the hill. She knew she’d cry and didn’t want them to see her tears.
She opened her father’s first, and her eyes swam at the greeting penned in his familiar hand: Dearly beloved daughter. Blinking to clear her vision, she breathed with relief as she read of arrangements he’d made with his debtors to pay off the remainder of his debt.
Do not worry.. Your brothers and I are working hard to become solvent again. Then every pence will go toward retrieving my darling girls. I will not rest until I see each of you happily situated once more.
His second missive brought even more hope:
I have sought out a solicitor who was able to retrieve thirty of the fifty brooches Lord Ridgeway absconded with. Once I sell them, I should have funds enough to send for you girls within the year, the good Lord willing….
Rose hugged the stationery to her breast. Perhaps she’d done the right thing for Papa and the family after all. She herself would not return to England, but hopefully Mariah and Lily would be able to go home.
Next she unfolded Lily’s letter:
Dearest Rose,
I must send my deepest congratulations on your marriage. It filled my heart with joy to hear that you are happy and have a life of your own with a loving husband. That is my dream, as well, as I suppose it is for most girls. Perhaps someday I will find similar happiness.
I miss you so much, Rose. I long for your visit this spring. I know I shall love your Nate. After all, how could I not love the brave hunter who has made my dear sister so happy? We shall
have so much to talk about. I shall count the days until I can hug you to my heart. Until then, do take care, and keep me in your prayers, as I keep you always in mine….
Rose’s heart crimped. Sweet, priceless Lily. How grand it would be to show off big, handsome Nate, the husband she never would have had she stayed in England.
With a happy sigh, she unfolded Mariah’s missive:
Dear Rose,
I was glad to hear from you. I assumed I would have wonderful news to relate by now, that Colin and I had pledged our love for one another. I know he cares for me as I do him, but alas, we get only the smallest snatches of time together, a mere moment here and there.
If Papa ever forwards money as he promised me, I shall buy back my papers and room with another family nearby. Then Colin will be able to visit me without the watchful eye of his mother. I am sure he will propose then. Of course, an elopement would be ever so romantic, do you not agree?
Mariah, Mariah. Rose shook her head. It was imperative to get to the girl soon and have a serious talk with her, if it wasn’t already too late. She read on:
Speaking of romantic, I could hardly believe that you, the ever-so-serious older sister, actually got married. You and not me. Who would ever believe that?
Rose rolled her eyes. Would that girl ever grow up? As disturbing as it had been to see Mariah sold to a plantation owner, at least she’d been placed in the home of a virtuous matron. Rose shot a prayer of thanks heavenward. When she and Nate reached the plantation, she’d thank the woman profusely.
“Rose! Rose!”
Glancing up from Mariah’s closing words, she saw Nate hurrying toward her with Jenny riding high in the crook of his arm. He sported a grin from ear to ear while tears streamed down his face.
“What is it?” Alarm clutched Rose’s stomach. Nate never cried.
“You’re not gonna believe this.” He held out a letter in his free hand. “It’s from Jenny’s grandparents. Seems old Mr. Wright got caught in a blizzard an’ got frostbite. His lungs ain’t so good now. He an’ the missus had to move in with their son, who’s already got a bunch of young’uns, an’ the wife’s with child. Mr. Wright says they’re not able to take in another mouth to feed. He says if we’re willin’, they’d be pleased to have papers drawed up so’s we can keep Jenny. Can you believe it? Jenny’s ours. Ours!”
It was too good to be true. “Let me see that letter.” Snatching it from his fingers, Rose scanned the words. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes, and she grabbed her two loves in a big hug, smothering them with kisses.
Finally able to gain control enough to speak, she dried her face on her apron. “This has to be the crowning moment of my life. To think I get you and Jenny. God is marvelous!” She held up all the letters. “And everyone in my family is doing fine—except maybe Mariah. Gorgeous, willful Mariah.”
“Don’t worry about her.” Nate wrapped Rose in his free arm and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll be goin’ to see her soon enough. An’ if God can make everything turn out this good for us, I’m sure He can whip that sister of yours into shape, too.”
Rose looked up into the hazel eyes she so loved and laughed. “Quite right. Our God can do anything.” Taking Jenny Ann out of Nate’s arm, she twirled the little girl around, making her giggle. Then, getting misty-eyed again, she gazed up at her beloved, stalwart husband. “God has given me more happiness than I ever dreamed possible. No one can ask for more than that.” Raising to tiptoe, she planted a kiss on his lips, just knowing it would bring out that mischievous smile of his.
She could never get enough of that.
Sally Laity has successfully written several novels, including a coauthored series for Tyndale, three Barbour novellas, and six Heartsongs romance novels. Her favorite thing these days is counseling new authors via the Internet. Sally always loved to write, and after her four children were grown, she took college writing courses and attended Christian writing conferences. She has written both historical and contemporary romances and considers it a joy to know that the Lord can touch other hearts through her stories. She makes her home in Bakersfield, California, with her husband and enjoys being a grandma.
Dianna Crawford is a California native. She has been published since the early 1990s and writes full-time. Her first inspirational novel was the premier of a six-book series for Tyndale that she coauthored with Sally Laity. Dianna is married and has four daughters and seven grandkids.
IF YOU ENJOYED
ROSE’S PLEDGE
BE SURE TO READ
MARIAH’S QUEST
A HARWOOD HOUSE SERIES
Book Two
Coming Summer 2012
Rose's Pledge Page 31