by Verna Clay
Joy gasped and Walker's eyes rounded. Walking toward them with his head sagging and his reins trailing from his neck was Murphy. The horse ignored Walker and went straight to Joy, nuzzling her face. Joy exclaimed, "Murphy, you were worried and came back to find me." She hugged the horse's neck and he blew in the way horses have of acknowledging a friend.
Chapter Twenty-One: Dressed like the Little People
Joy watched Walker lift the handset of the candlestick telephone in his office and wait for a response from the operator. While he waited, he said softly, "It usually doesn't take long for Gretchen to answer. She–"
Over the listening bit Joy could hear a faint voice. Walker said into the mouthpiece, "Hello Gretchen, I'd like to place a call to Two Rivers, Texas. I'm trying to reach Jake Ryder."
Joy sucked a breath. She had forgotten to confide to Walker that her parents were famous artists. Did he recognize her father's name? Because of her very ordinary upbringing, she often forgot that her parents had artwork displayed worldwide and received commissions from famous people. Walker didn't seem to recognize her father's name and she breathed easier; she didn't want him thinking she kept secrets from him. She made a mental note to tell him later.
Joy wasn't certain the call would go through. Her father had often mentioned that when the telephone poles reached his property he was going to have the talking device installed. She wondered if that had happened yet. Walker had suggested they make the call and if it didn't go through, they'd send a telegram announcing their engagement.
Joy reached to touch Walker's forearm just because she loved touching him. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. She was still having a hard time believing they were to be married. It had been one day since their fateful encounter in the woods and Joy thanked the heavens that Murphy had knocked her to the ground. If not, she and Walker might have parted ways. Her Grammy Abby had often said that sometimes a shocking experience was needed to open one's eyes, and obviously, Walker had been shocked.
The sound of a voice coming over the receiver turned Walker's attention back to his phone call. A moment later, he said, "Hello, is this Mr. Jake Ryder, father of Joy Ryder?"
Joy placed a surprised hand over her mouth. Her father had a telephone!
There was a response and Walker said, "Sir, I have your daughter with me and she's anxious to speak with you."
Joy accepted the mouthpiece with one hand and the receiver with her other. She held the receiver to her ear and the transmitter close to her lips. "Daddy!" she exclaimed.
Her father said, "Oh, honey, it's so good to hear from you. Your mother and I were going to surprise you with the telephone when you got home. It's a wonderful invention, and now that we have electricity and a talking device, I can hardly wait to see what this modern era conceives of next. Joy, the whole family is anxious for your return."
Joy was silent and her father said, "You're not coming home, are you?"
"No, Daddy. I'm getting married."
There was another silence and then Ryder said in a choked voice. "I'm so happy for you. Honey, I'm handing the phone to your mother before she grabs it out of my hand."
Joy's mother exclaimed, "What's going on, Joy. Your father is crying. Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes, Mama. I called to let you know I'm getting married."
Jenny was silent and then Joy heard tears in her voice when she burst forth with questions, "Can you come home and be married here? What is your fiancé's name? How did you meet? If you can't come home, then we'll come to Oregon City. Oh, Joy, I want to hear everything!"
Joy's father suddenly came back on the line. "First off, I think we need to get some organization. What is your young man's name?"
Joy grinned at Walker when she answered. "I wrote to you about him and his daughter, Misty, when I first started teaching her. You probably remember his name, Dr. Walker Flemming. Anyway, I've been teaching Misty for several weeks now, and things just, well, happened. I was planning on leaving Monday, but Walker asked me to marry him yesterday."
"How soon is the wedding?"
"We haven't discussed a date for the wedding yet." She glanced at Walker's amused expression and he mouthed, "Soon."
Joy returned her attention to her phone call. "Walker said it will be soon. When I have a date I'll call you again."
Her father said in a commanding voice. "Joy, your mother and I want to be there. And I know Abby will too, as well as all the family. We can travel within a week or two." Her father's authoritative tone disappeared and he almost sounded like he was pleading, when he asked, "Will you wait to marry until we arrive?"
She said, "Just a minute, Daddy," and relayed her father's request to Walker.
Walker said, "Of course we'll wait for your family. In fact, we won't set a date until after they're here."
Joy was overjoyed to relay that information. She spoke again with her mother and then sniffed back tears when she hung up. She really missed her family.
Over the next few days Joy was walking in the clouds. She had never been so happy. She had been nervous about breaking the news to Misty, and when they did, the child had raced across her bedroom to a bookshelf and returned with a catalogue hugged to her chest. Setting it on Joy's lap, she'd started turning pages. When Joy lifted questioning eyes to Walker's, he'd shrugged his confusion.
When Misty stopped turning pages, Joy grinned. "I think she's looking for a wedding dress for me."
Misty said one word, "Pretty."
Walker laughed happily and came to kneel beside Joy and Misty so he could see the dress. It was actually a fairy princess costume. He lifted amused eyes to Joy's and then he patted his daughter's head. "I think that's my cue to leave so you two can discuss this."
Joy said, "I adore that dress. Perhaps the dressmaker can sew one up just like it."
Walker's eyes never left Joy's and blood rushed to her head when she saw the admiration in his gaze.
After he left the room, Joy and Misty continued admiring the dress and Joy asked, "Would you like your dress to be the same as mine, only lavender?"
Suddenly, Misty's eyes clouded and she ran to her stack of dolls, digging through them. At the bottom she retrieved a small doll wearing a lavender dress and ran back to Joy. She held it out to her. Joy gently lifted the doll from Misty's tiny hands.
On a sob, the child cried, "Mama made this dress for my dolly!"
Joy's heart broke and she pulled Misty onto her lap, waiting to see if she would reveal more.
Sobs racks the little girl's body when she said, "Mama give me the dress. Then she went outside. I put the dress on my dolly and ran out to show her. She was on Murphy. She told me to stay on the porch, but I wanted her to see the pretty dress so I run to her. Murphy jumped up and Mama fell off!"
Joy glanced up from kissing Misty's cheek to see Walker standing in the doorway with a stunned expression. In three strides he was across the room.
Misty sobbed, "I kilt Mama!" Tears ran down her cheeks.
Joy said, "Oh, no, honey, you didn't. It was an accident."
Walker reached for his daughter, cradling her to his chest. She lifted her arms to circle his neck and cried against his shoulder like she would never stop. He said, "Misty, my sweet baby, you didn't kill your mother. It was an accident, just like Joy said. I had no idea you blamed yourself. No one is to blame. Your mama would be very sad if she knew you felt like this."
Misty's sobs quieted and she raised her head and hiccupped. "She would?"
Joy stood and tiptoed from the room, giving father and daughter privacy. In the kitchen, she filled the coffeepot and put it on the stove to perk. Sitting at the table, she placed her head in her hands—so much sorrow from such a tiny child.
She lifted her head when she heard the coffee perking and went to the cupboard to retrieve two cups. Several minutes later, Walker entered the kitchen, his face a mask of grief. Joy poured him a cup of coffee.
He said, "She's asleep," and sat at the table, staring at the bre
w in front of him. "I had no idea she blamed herself for her mother's death." He lifted red-rimmed eyes to Joy's. "If anyone is to blame, it's Emily. She was raised in the city and knew practically nothing about horses, but she was enamored with them. I warned her to stay off Murphy until I felt it was safe for her to ride him, but she defied my wishes more than once." He inhaled long and deep. "But I guess the ultimate blame is mine. I should have purchased a more docile horse."
Joy covered Walker's hand with her own. "No, Walker. Like you said, it was an accident. We can't blame ourselves for happenings beyond our control. Murphy is a wonderful horse and even if you'd purchased a docile one, he could have still reared and tossed Emily."
Walker covered Joy's hand with his other one, and nodded.
She continued, "I think Misty's confession explains so many things: the reason she stopped speaking, the reason she's drawn to the color lavender. And I believe the reason she's so neat and tidy is because she's trying to make amends by keeping everything in its place. What mother hasn't told her child to clean her room? I also think she doesn't want to pick flowers because she equates it with death. And in a sense, she's right. She's a very sensitive child."
Walker lifted Joy's hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I think you're very perceptive. Thank you, Joy. I love you."
Chapter Twenty-Two: Aunt Zena Speaks
Joy had been engaged to Walker for over a week and her family would be departing Texas in three days to travel to Oregon City for her wedding. Inside Mrs. Piper's Main Street Dress Shop, the jovial, heavyset proprietress looked at the gown in the catalogue and her eyes rounded. Joy held her breath. She was fearful the woman would chastise her for selecting such an unconventional garment, but suddenly, Mrs. Piper brightened. "It's gorgeous! I shall be honored to sew that dress. I wish more brides would stray from convention and dress how they please."
Joy confided, "It was Misty who selected the dress. I'm sure anything I would have chosen would have paled by comparison." She grinned at the dressmaker. "And we'll need that exact dress sewn for Misty, only in lavender!"
Mrs. Piper clapped her hands to her flabby cheeks. "Thank the Lord in heaven! Oh, I just know you're the perfect mama for that little girl and she'll be talkin' up a storm in no time!"
Joy smiled. Misty was already talking up a storm.
With her heart bubbling with happiness Joy strolled the sidewalks back to Walker's office. He had picked her up that morning at the Jeromes so she could meet with the dressmaker, the bakery owner, and other venders doing things for the wedding. He had told her to choose whatever design of cake she wanted. She thought about her meeting with Mr. Baker, the baker, and giggled at the appropriateness of his name.
Mr. Baker had looked at the drawing she and Misty had done of a cake with pink frosting and lavender flowers streaming down five layers, interspersed with a few mossy green leaves, and said with exuberance, "This is why I became a baker!" The cake's top was a replica of the flower Misty and Joy had discovered, and in the midst of the flower, a fairy princess and a handsome prince held hands.
Now, walking past the many businesses crowding downtown, she smiled and returned greetings. Although her hometown of Two Rivers would be sorely missed, she just knew she was going to love her new community. She had a fleeting thought that perhaps someday she would open an art gallery and academy. What fun it would be to showcase local talent and teach those with a passion for painting. She could follow in her father's footsteps. She would call her studio, Joy Flemming's Academy of Art, taking the cue from her father's famous studio, Jake Ryder's Academy of Art.
Thinking about her studio brought something else to mind, and she frowned. Once again she had forgotten to tell Walker about her famous parents. So far, he hadn't mentioned anything about equating her name with that of the famous Ryders. It wasn't that she was trying to keep it from him; it was just that she had so many things on her mind, explaining her parents' renown wasn't high on her list of priorities.
Unfortunately, more than once when her linage had been discovered, people had eventually gotten around to hinting about the wealth she must have. Some even went so far as to admonish her to stash as many of her parents' paintings as possible so she could cash in on them after their deaths. The audacity of some folks was unbelievable.
As she reached to open the door to Walker's office, she decided now would be a perfect time to tell him about her parents, before she forgot again. She entered his office and paused. Mary, the nurse that assisted him, wasn't at her desk and Joy wondered if she was at lunch.
She heard voices coming from down the hallway and started toward Walker's office. His door was slightly ajar and she paused when she heard Aunt Zena's voice. She didn't intend to eavesdrop, but the woman's hateful tone stopped her in her tracks.
"This may be none of my business, but I intend to have my say. How can you even contemplate marriage to that girl? Why she's barely out of her teens and you're thirty-four. She knows nothing of responsibility and the care of a child and husband. She's flighty and will soon grow bored living here. Has she even told you who her parents are? They're famous artists, wealthy beyond belief. That girl was raised in the lap of luxury. I can only imagine her childhood home. How long do you think she'll be satisfied living in your humble abode? I know you're only marrying her because Misty has taken to her and needs a mother."
The hateful woman paused and Walker said quietly, "What you said is correct."
Joy's heart stopped beating and she backed down the hallway. Walker was still talking but she couldn't decipher his words over the blood rushing to her head. She felt faint, but she had to get away…fast.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Letters
Walker was so angry he had to will his voice into calmness. Seeing the smug satisfaction in Zena's eyes, he repeated and completed his sentence, "What you said is correct…this is none of your business."
His aunt's expression morphed from "I told you so," to shock. Her eyes widened and he continued, "I want there to be no misunderstanding. I love Joy and I intend to marry her. She will become Misty's mother and you will not interfere. As for her parents, I am well aware of who they are. And about her being spoiled, that is rubbish. She is one of the least spoiled women I have ever met. She is kindhearted, sweet, lovely, and if you ever speak anything negative against her again, I will disown you, and you will never see Misty again. Have I made myself clear?"
Walker's gaze never left his aunt's face. He was determined that she understand how serious he was. She opened her mouth to say something and he lifted his eyebrows. She reconsidered and closed her mouth. Finally, she said, "Perfectly clear," and turned on her heel, marching from his office.
Walker leaned back in his office chair, pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head, trying to dislodge his aunt's unreasonable attitude. For the life of him, he hadn't a clue as to why she was acting so terribly. But he'd meant every word. If she so much as looked crosswise at Joy, he'd send her packing. He reconsidered that thought and made a decision to send her back to Portland posthaste, anyway.
He glanced at his pocket watch. Mr. Farmer would be in soon for a follow-up appointment on his hernia condition, and then Mrs. Botkin was bringing her baby in for a routine checkup. There were a few appointments after that and then he would drive Joy back to the Jerome homestead after dining out. His heart quickened just thinking about being with her. Perhaps when he picked Misty up from his sister's, he would invite her and Solomon to join them. Chatting with family over a leisurely meal would prolong his time with Joy. If he had his way, he'd drag her to the courthouse and marry her in front of the Justice of the Peace today, but he knew how important a woman's wedding day was, and how much his daughter was looking forward to dressing in her princess gown.
The day finally ended around five and he was surprised that Joy hadn't arrived back at his office by then. He decided to go search for her downtown. His nurse bid him goodnight and he was locking his office door when Tad, a local youth who wor
ked as a delivery boy for the combined post office and telegraph office, approached him carrying a large envelope. Walker had ordered some medical research papers and wondered if that was what was being delivered.
Tad said, "Howdy, Doc Flemming. I got orders to give you this. Mr. Pike said he had strict instructions not to deliver the envelope 'til you was closin' up. I been waitin' and watchin' from across the street. So since you're lockin' the door, I guess I can give it to you now."
Walker frowned and asked, "Who gave Mr. Pike those orders?"
"Don't know, sir. I never butt in to stuff that ain't my business."
Walker accepted the envelope, reached into his pocket for a coin, and tossed it at Tad. "Thanks, son."
"No, thank you, sir," Tad said appreciatively and ran off down the street.
Walker sat on the bench outside his office and tore open the envelope that had no postage markings, only his name written on it. Inside were three separately folded papers. He opened the one with his name and his heart quickened when he scanned the page and saw the signature. It was from Joy.
My Dearest Walker,
I wrote a letter previous to this one but tore it up because it was written in anger. Upon reflection, I believe I understand your reasoning in wanting to marry me, but it does not dull the hurt in my heart.
Perhaps I should explain. Earlier today, I came to your office and finding no one in reception, started down the hall to find you. I heard your voice and then I heard your Aunt Zena speaking. It was not my intention to listen to your conversation, but the hatred in her voice gave me pause. Her tirade, in some aspects, was unfair, but in others, she was correct. I never divulged the fact that my parents are famous artists, and for that I am truly sorry. It was not my intent to keep it from you; I simply forgot because it was never an issue while I was growing up. To me, my mother and father are simple country folk. But I suppose your aunt is correct in pointing out that I was a spoiled child. As an only child, my parents doted on me, and still do. However, my travels this past year have shown me the poverty and toil others must endure just to make it through a day. So, yes, I am spoiled, and perhaps flighty, and not the best choice of a wife for you. You and Misty both need a mature woman who does not always have her head in the clouds searching for fairies and sprites. There is a balance that I have yet to achieve.