He went inside and I waited.
Fifteen minutes later he came back out, without the saddlebags. His face was wearing a look I wish I could describe, but I could write for two pages and not get it right. I’ll have to be satisfied to remember it in my mind.
He didn’t say a word. As he was getting on the horse, I saw Mrs. Parrish come to one of the windows and pull aside the curtain and look out, just like the banker had done.
I smiled and gave a little wave. But she didn’t seem to notice. I guess she wanted to make sure Pa got on his horse okay. When I glanced over again a moment later, she was no longer there.
As we rode back through town again, word must’ve spread around that Pa was there because now all sorts of folks were out on the streets. Riding there beside him, I felt like we were in the kind of parade I’ve read about in New York City! Everyone was shouting and calling out things to Pa as if he was some kind of town hero. And this time he was laughing and returning the greetings and waving back. I guess whatever had been on his mind before was taken care of now.
I couldn’t help but think it seemed a mite strange. Here all these folks came out to see Pa, treating him like he’d saved the town from destruction. And back home where we were headed a houseful of folks were celebrating Becky’s rescue, and there was food and good smells and lively talk, and everybody was feeling happy. And yet back in town Mrs. Parrish was all alone, and nobody even seemed to know that she’d been the real hero of the day. It didn’t seem just fair that she wasn’t part of the celebrating.
Just then we saw the minister walking down the sidewalk. He waved, and we waved back. But Pa had stopped to talk to the sheriff for a minute, so Rev. Rutledge kept going without pausing for a chat. He was walking in the direction of Mrs. Parrish’s. I was glad. Maybe she wouldn’t have to spend the evening alone after all.
As we continued on our way a couple of minutes later, I glanced back for one last look at Mrs. Parrish’s house before we turned up the street that led out of town. She was on the porch with Rev. Rutledge. It looked like she was explaining that she was just leaving, because he turned around and walked away.
Mrs. Parrish went out toward the little stable beside her house where Marcus Weber was standing waiting for her, holding the reins of a saddled horse. She was carrying the saddlebags Pa had brought her.
Mr. Weber helped her up, then she dug in her heels and went flying away out of town to the south. I turned back, and Pa and I rode north past the last of the buildings, and up the hill toward our place.
The rest of that night was spent in celebrating, waiting on the two invalids in the cabin, and hearing all the stories there were to tell—starting with Becky’s version of events, then Zack’s and Little Wolf’s, then Pa’s.
“But I’ll tell you something,” said Pa as he finished his account of the gunfight at Deadman’s Flat, “when I crawled to my feet and stumbled down the hill to see if Zack was safe, and I saw Buck Krebbs lying in the dirt, there wasn’t any joy in my heart.”
It was a somber way to end a day that had turned out better than we might have hoped the night before.
“No sir, a dead face is an awful thing to see, especially when I knew it was my hand that took his life. God forgive me, I had to do it, else he’d have killed Zack for sure. But don’t any of you kids ever think killin’s a right thing. It’s a dreadful thing, I’m tellin’ you! Buck was our enemy, but I’ll never forget that look on his dead face, and I pray God can do somethin’ better with him now than he was able to down here. He was a bad man, but that don’t make killin’ him a pleasant thing.”
We all went to bed late that night with plenty to be thankful for, and also a lot to think about.
I didn’t know if it was a right thing to do or not, but I couldn’t help praying for Buck Krebbs one last time. I remembered the Bible verse that said we were to pray for our enemies.
Maybe it was too late, but I figured I ought to do what the Book said. So I did.
Chapter 40
Preparations
The next day was Sunday.
Little Wolf felt much better and went home. I figured we’d all stay home, but Pa insisted on going to church. His leg was still swollen, and there wasn’t any way he was going to do much walking, crutch or no crutch. Four of us together carried him to the wagon, where he lay down in the back on some blankets. Uncle Nick drove the wagon, and the rest of us gathered in back around Pa. Even Katie went with us, sitting up front beside Uncle Nick.
It was a fun ride to town, although Pa didn’t say much. Buck Krebbs was still on his mind, I could tell. Maybe he felt he needed to make peace with God and himself over the killing, and he figured church was the best place to do it.
But the service hardly fit Pa’s mood. Everybody cheered when they saw us pulling into the meadow in our wagon, and they all ran toward us, hugging and shaking hands and showing their happiness that everybody was safe. During the service Rev. Rutledge thanked the Lord for his protecting hand over Becky and Zack and Pa and everyone else that had been involved.
When church was over, after the last song and prayer, Rev. Rutledge stood up in front and said, “I have one final announcement. I realize it is probably unnecessary, but in case there are any persons present who do not already know—next Sunday, one week from today, after the morning service, at one o’clock in the afternoon, you are all invited to attend the wedding of our own Drummond Hollister to Miss Kathryn Morgan, newly arrived from Virginia.”
Several of the men whooped and turned around to give Pa a wink or a few words. Katie smiled pleasantly at the women who glanced at her. But if anything, the minister’s announcement seemed to dampen Pa’s mood all the more.
Pa stayed in bed the rest of Sunday and all the next day. Doc came out again on Tuesday and pronounced the swelling reduced.
Pa hobbled around a little Tuesday afternoon, then went back to bed. His spirits were depressed, I could tell—probably from not being able to get up and be about and working. He never was one for sitting still doing nothing.
On Wednesday Mrs. Parrish rode out in her buggy to fetch Katie and me. From the very first word of the wedding several weeks ago, Mrs. Parrish had taken it upon herself to see that Katie had a new wedding dress for the occasion. Now it was time for the final fitting and last minute alterations, and she asked me to come along to Mrs. Gianini’s. “Women get together, and men get together,” she told me, “before weddings. And this is our chance!”
Mrs. Gianini was all business, fussing with pins and her tape, and muttering this and that about the hem and sleeves and lace and veil and ribbon. The dress was of light blue, with a high neck, and wide, loose shoulders and upper arms. The bodice was close-fitting, and below the waist the dress filled out with several petticoats underneath. The buttons and lace were of pale yellow, as was the cummerbund around the waist and the bow tied in back.
“It’s beautiful, Mrs. Gianini,” said Katie after she had put on the dress for the final time and stood in front of the mirror. “So beautiful! I never expected anything like this out here. I don’t know how you did it, but this style you and Almeda chose doesn’t make me look so round.”
“We wouldn’t have our Drummond Hollister’s bride with anything less,” said Mrs. Parrish, smiling at Katie, a smile that seemed to have a hint of sadness in it, though her voice never betrayed it. “He’s a ‘leading citizen,’ remember.”
As she gazed over the bride-to-be, the look on Mrs. Parrish’s face reminded me of how she looked at me sometimes. Her eyes were so full of love, almost motherly, but not without that look of pain that I never quite understood either. She had done so much for me—and for Pa. And now she was having this dress made, probably at her own expense, for Pa’s new wife whom she barely knew. I couldn’t help thinking what a selfless woman she was.
“You look lovely, my dear,” Mrs. Parrish added, standing back and regarding Katie as Mrs. Gianini took in a last tuck about the waist, then pinned it in place. “I know Corrie’s
father will be proud when he sees you coming down the aisle on Sunday.”
“Won’t he already have seen her in the dress after we get ready and drive in?” I asked innocently.
All three of the women laughed together.
“Oh no, Corrie!” said Mrs. Parrish. “Don’t you know, a bride and groom must never see one another on their wedding day until the moment when she starts down the aisle.” They laughed again.
“My ma always told me I wasn’t the marrying kind,” I said. “I reckon she was right. But how will Katie and Pa not see each other?”
“Oh, Katie will spend Saturday night with me, of course,” replied Mrs. Parrish. “We’ll get her all ready right here. You and Becky and Emily shall help me! And we’ll have to get you three all dressed up too. Your pa will be so proud to see all his women looking so beautiful!”
As always, Mrs. Parrish’s enthusiasm was catching. Pretty soon all four of us were laughing like little girls. I was so happy that Katie and Mrs. Parrish looked like they were going to be friends! I couldn’t have stood it if Mrs. Parrish couldn’t be at least a little bit like part of our family!
When Mrs. Parrish and I happened to be alone in another room for a few minutes, I asked her about the papers and Mr. Royce and the money. She opened her mouth as if she was about to reply, then thought better of it and stopped herself. A strange look came into her eye.
Then she said, “Corrie, what happened with the money is between your father and me. I know you and I haven’t kept secrets from one another. But this time I’m going to have to do just that. It is not that I don’t want you to know. But if the story’s to be told, I want your father to be the one to tell you. You see, it’s his secret now, not mine. So that means it’s his to share or his to hold on to, as he sees fit.”
By Thursday Pa was a lot better, although he was still acting quiet. His leg still hurt a lot, but he was able to hobble around pretty well.
Friday morning came, and Uncle Nick didn’t show up for breakfast.
“Zack, run up to the mine and fetch him, will you?” said Pa.
But Zack came back alone a couple of minutes later. “He ain’t up there, Pa.”
“Anybody seen Nick today?” Pa asked the rest of us.
No one had.
Still nobody had seen him by the time afternoon came. By evening Pa was getting fidgety, and starting to mutter. Uncle Nick didn’t come home that night.
Saturday Pa was furious.
Here it was the day before the wedding, and Katie and I had lots of things to do. Mrs. Parrish was out twice to our place, and Katie and I went into town with her for an hour in the afternoon. Through it all Pa was ranting about Uncle Nick’s disappearance.
“The hare-brained idiot’s gone off again!” he kept saying. “Probably drunk someplace, losin’ away every dime he’s got to some gambling shyster!”
Saturday night came. Still no sign of Uncle Nick.
“That numskull!” Pa said over and over. “His sense o’ timing’s about as lame as his smarts with cards!”
“What are we gonna do, Pa?” I asked.
“What do you mean what are we gonna do? There ain’t nothin’ we can do! We don’t know where he is. The loco fool is gonna miss the wedding!”
Mrs. Parrish rode out one last time, this time to get Katie and take her to town for the night.
“You all sleep well tonight!” Mrs. Parrish said as they got ready to leave. “Tomorrow’s going to be an exciting day!”
Then she turned to Pa and said in a more serious tone. “Mr. Hollister, do you need anything? Any help with, you know, with your brother-in-law—”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, ma’am,” Pa replied. “But I’ll be fine.” It was the gentlest I’d heard Pa talk in two days. “Alkali’s comin’ out in the mornin’. He’ll help me get dressed and all.”
“And don’t you worry a thing about the younger children, Mr. Hollister,” she said. “You just get everybody to town, and I’ll make sure everybody knows what to do. You’ll be very proud of your family, Mr. Hollister.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Pa.
They each gave a little wave, then Mrs. Parrish and Katie were off toward Miracle.
The rest of us went back inside and got ready for bed, everyone listening, I think, for the sounds of Uncle Nick’s horse riding up.
But we all fell asleep without hearing it.
Chapter 41
The Big Day
Most of the town showed up for the wedding.
Just the fact that Pa’d written for a mail-order bride was curious enough, so lots of folks were interested. And I don’t suppose it’s all that usual for a man to get married with five of his own children sitting in the front row watching!
But most of all, Pa was a highly respected man around Miracle Springs. It wasn’t just that he had friends. It was more than that. I suppose Pa represented what a lot of folks wished for themselves. Here was a man who’d come to town running from the law, using an alias, with nothing to his name. Now Miracle Springs was celebrating its first wedding with him! At least with Sheriff Rafferty he’d been cleared. He had a family, a good claim, and a chance to settle down.
Maybe they were proud of Pa. Maybe some envied him a little. But whatever their reasons, almost everyone piled into that little church that Sunday afternoon. They’d brought in extra chairs from the Gold Nugget, but some of the men still had to stand up in back.
Even with all the people, there was one less than there should have been. My mind kept turning over the question, just like Pa had said as he glanced around at the cabin and up toward the barn and mine one last time: “Where in tarnation’s Nick?” And now we were sitting silently in the church, thinking the same thing.
At last Pa and Rev. Rutledge stood up in front. Pa looked so handsome in his black suit. The music started to play—it was Miss Stansberry at the piano in the back of the church.
I turned around to look.
There stood Katie in the gorgeous dress. Slowly, an inch at a time, she began to walk up the aisle between the chairs.
Softly the music played, the only other sound the faint rustle of Katie’s dress as it moved along the floor.
My eyes scanned so many faces in that second. Half the town’s saloon girls were here, dabbing their eyes with pink and white handkerchiefs, as if “ol’ Drum gettin’ hitched” spelled the end of all the wild nightlife of Miracle Springs.
Katie was about a third of the way down the aisle now. I suppose she looked pretty. People say that brides always do. I didn’t really notice her face.
I turned back to the front. Rev. Rutledge stood tall, with a nice minister-looking smile on his face. Pa beside him was just staring, not smiling at all.
Miss Stansberry started through the processional song again.
You could hear the sounds now of people starting to turn around and watch as Katie approached Pa. She was almost beside me now, still walking slowly. More handkerchiefs came out of hiding. Right behind me I saw that Mrs. Parrish was holding one too. I caught her eye and she tried to smile, but I saw a look of sadness in her face.
All heads turned with Katie, back toward the front of the church, where she had just about reached Pa’s outstretched hand. But amid the noise of turning and looking and the piano’s tones there now came another sound—faint at first, then steadily louder.
It was a horse galloping up. Louder it came, until it was right next to the church building.
But instead of gradually fading away in the other direction, the skidding hoofbeats and whinnying of the horse caught us all by surprise. Glances began to scatter about the church at the sound of a rider dismounting and the loud booted clomping of footsteps coming up the church stairs two at a time.
The music stopped. Katie turned around.
Suddenly the door flew open and crashed against the back wall.
There in the open doorway stood Uncle Nick!
His face wore three days’ growth of whiskers. His cl
othes were filthy, he still had on his hat, and the dust from his hasty approach seemed to billow into the room on his heels.
He stood there a split second, taking in the scene. Then he ran forward halfway up the aisle, and shouted: “Drum, you blamed fool . . . you’re marryin’ the wrong woman!”
Instantly the church was in an uproar.
Katie’s mouth was hanging open. Rev. Rutledge stood stock-still in consternation, not knowing what to do. Pa stared at Uncle Nick for just a second, his face growing red with fury.
Then he strode forward toward him as fast as his bad leg would let him hobble. He looked as if he was fixing to knock Uncle Nick’s block off!
“Just a dadburn minute!” cried Uncle Nick. “Hear me out, Drum. After what I got to say, well, then you can do what you like! Don’t you know by now, you ol’ goat . . .” and as he said it, he ran the rest of the way up the aisle and stopped just beside where Mrs. Parrish was sitting, “ . . . this here’s the woman you oughta be marryin’!” He grabbed her hand and held it in Pa’s direction before the shocked Mrs. Parrish could think to withdraw it.
“She’s the woman who loves you, you idiot! You’re so blind you can’t see the nose on the front of your face!”
Uncle Nick dropped Mrs. Parrish’s hand, went the rest of the way down the aisle, took Katie’s hand, and added—as if to end the discussion—“Don’t you know Katie’s the woman I got my eye on?”
Now the commotion really erupted!
Everyone was half out of their chairs and balking and stirring about. Pa was still standing there where Uncle Nick had left him, speechless. I glanced behind me quickly. Mrs. Parrish was staring down into her lap and quietly weeping. She was still holding her handkerchief and not even bothering to use it.
Realizing what a stir he’d caused, and maybe embarrassed at his outburst, Uncle Nick by this time had run back outside. Katie went after him. Rev. Rutledge was scurrying about trying to restore some semblance of order, but he wasn’t succeeding too well.
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