by Linda Tillis
Garth let the poor boy squirm for a moment before he took pity on him and answered, “I know exactly what you mean, son. It’s how it was for Ruth and me. She had never been involved with a man. I had been interested in a few women, but I had never known the kind of magic she created. I’ve always believed, and Ruth always said, it was God who directed our love, and He knew us better than we knew ourselves.” Garth could tell from the look on Edward’s face that this answer was not satisfactory.
“Son, do you believe in God?”
“Mae asked me the very same question. I don’t disbelieve. In my line of work, we see things that cannot be explained. And simple folks usually attribute these things to Him.”
Garth smiled sadly. “Well, son, simple folks have no trouble believing in God, because it’s usually about all they have to rely on.”
Edward had the grace to be embarrassed. “I meant no disrespect, sir.”
“It’s all right, none taken. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that we all come to the Lord in our own time. And if you build a life with Mae, your time will come, son, because she is as close to the Lord as cane is to sugar. Now, you say you want to marry my daughter, but have you spoken with her about this?”
“Well, I have not actually spoken the words, but I did tell her I loved her and I want her waiting for me when I get back.”
Garth grinned. “Word to the wise, son, ask her before you leave. Her anticipation will make the homecoming all the sweeter.” Garth stood and stuck out his hand.
Edward stood also, and the two men looked into each other’s eyes. Garth took Edward’s hand in both of his with a smile. “Welcome to the family, son.”
****
The day broke clear and cold. Mae stood at her window and looked out across the meadow. Her papa was going to drive her to the station to say goodbye to Edward. She was glad Papa would be there. She was aware she needed to be strong and not put a burden on poor Edward. She must not let him know how painful it would be to see him leave. It was only for nine months, she told herself. Why, it was a drop in a bucket compared to the years they would have together. That thought helped…a little.
She hadn’t been able to sleep last night or eat a thing this morning, and she was afraid she did not look her best. This morning, of all mornings, she needed to be beautiful. Mae stared at herself in the mirror. She wanted to be so beautiful that Edward would hold her image in his mind the whole time he was gone. She chose a forest green suit and a white blouse with a fountain of lace ruffles at the neck. She kept her hair simple, with a small braid around the crown and the rest hanging in ringlets down her back. She took one last look in the mirror. It was the best she could do.
Garth stood at the bottom of the staircase, watching his baby girl glide down the stairs. The wonderful thing about Mae was that she had no idea how the world saw her. Her mother had been the same way. These strong-willed, intelligent, beautiful women moved through life handling whatever calamity was put in their path. They couldn’t see themselves as being any stronger or more resilient than anyone else. They couldn’t see how they inspired others, and their blindness to their own worth was most endearing.
Mae moved to her papa’s side and took his hand in hers. “Thank you, Papa, for going with me.” He squeezed her hand and opened the front door.
****
Garth leaned against the motorcar and watched the couple on the platform. The Finches had already made their goodbyes and were standing with Garth.
Mrs. Finch was dabbing at her eyes with a small handkerchief. “They make such a beautiful couple,” she whimpered.
“All right, Mother, I’m taking you home for some hot chocolate and a good cry. The boy will be back before you know it. And it looks like you have found a good anchor to keep him here, once he gets back.” Mr. Finch put his arm around her and directed her to the carriage. He nodded at Garth as they passed, and Garth gave a sympathetic smile in return.
Meanwhile, Edward was saying, “Sweetheart, I had a long talk with your father last night, and he gave me a piece of advice I think was very sound.”
Mae smiled up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yes, dear, did he tell you to wear extra socks this winter? Or use camphor if you developed a cough?” she teased.
Edward threw back his head and laughed out loud. “Mae, stop that. I’m trying to be serious here. Now, I’ve never done this before, but I believe there is a standard formula involved. So…Mae Hinton, will you marry me? Will you make me the happiest and luckiest man on this earth? Will you let me spend the rest of my life being this happy?”
Mae took his face in both her gloved hands and pulled his mouth down to hers. She kissed him as she had never kissed a man before, with all the passion she could put into one meeting of their lips. After several long seconds their mouths parted.
Edward was trying to catch his breath when Mae said, “The sooner you get home, the sooner we’ll continue to explore just how many ways there are to say I love you. And, yes, I’ll marry you.”
Edward lifted her and swung her in a circle, yelling, “Yes,” at the top of his lungs.
Garth smiled and said, to no one in particular, “I’m guessin’ that was a yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mae woke to the sound of birds. Their singing and chirping put a smile on her face. Christmas Eve and a wedding, all in one day—what more could a body ask for? Her smile saddened just a little. If only Edward were here, then the day would be perfect. Well, she was not going to mope and ruin Papa and Eleanor’s day. She laughed out loud, thinking she had better get moving, as she had a full day ahead of her.
A quick wash and some comfortable clothes later, she was bouncing down the stairs, following the smell of bacon to the kitchen. Mrs. Patrick and Cook turned to the door as Mae practically skipped into the kitchen. Mrs. Patrick smiled as she said, “You’re up and about early, missy. Could it be you’re just a wee bit excited?”
Mae grinned and popped an orange slice into her mouth. “That and I have a dozen things to see to before this afternoon.”
Samuel entered through the back door and stopped as all three women turned to him. “Somethin’ sure smells good. It called to me, clear out to the barn.” He grinned.
Garth burst through the door right behind him and stopped short to avoid a collision. There was a long silence, all of them looking at him and grinning like he had grown a second nose.
“What?” he asked. “What are you all looking at?”
Mae took pity on him and crossed the kitchen to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Why, just the most handsome soon-to-be groom we’ve ever seen.” She laughed.
Garth reddened, then grinned. “I don’t know about the handsome part, but surely the happiest,” he replied. “May I suggest we all sit down together and have a nice, peaceful breakfast, because tomorrow Patrick will be here, and it will be Christmas morning, and there will be nothing peaceful around here for some time to come.”
Once their peaceful breakfast was done, Mae stood and advised them all they had better be clean, dressed, and ready to go at four o’clock this afternoon, or heads would roll. The men all laughed as she left the room, then looked at each other and decided they’d better get moving. No one wanted to be the reason this day would be less than perfect.
****
Mae sat in her bedroom, looking out over the property. It was still hard to believe sometimes. She had much to be grateful for. Here she was about to have a second mother and another little brother. Those would be enough, but to have her papa so happy again was just more than she had ever expected. For this, she was truly thankful to the Lord.
She had spent the day making sure all was in readiness, including that the rooms Eleanor and Papa had chosen were in the best of order. The suite was at the end of the west hallway, separated from the other bedrooms by an open sitting room. The large bedroom had a good-sized dressing room and private bath.
Mae made sure the newest sheets
were ironed and the bed coverlet freshly aired. Every surface was dusted, and there were bouquets of fresh flowers on all the tables. There was a fireplace on the outer wall of the bedroom, directly above the one in the library, and she made certain the wood basket was full. The bride and groom were spending their first night together in the bridal suite of the Leon Hotel, but Mae wanted everything ready for their return home tomorrow. Cyrus would be sharing his room with Patrick until the apartments in the carriage house were complete.
She stood and looked in the mirror one last time. Eleanor would be wearing a powder-blue lace dress, so she had chosen a royal blue one. The long sleeves had lace overlays, but the rest of the dress was unadorned. Only the bride should be beautifully dressed today. She would have all eyes on her, as it should be. Mae braided her hair loosely and wound the braid around her crown with only one small blue silk flower to dress it. With a nod to herself, Mae picked up her reticule and headed for the foyer, to make sure everyone was on time.
As Mae observed Samuel and Cyrus sitting there, she thought how handsome they must appear to the world.
But it was not just their outward appearance that made them so. She looked into their faces as she came down the staircase. Samuel was steadfast and honorable, possessed of a fierce sense of responsibility to safeguard his family; it was almost as if someone had put him in charge of the wellbeing of all of them. And Cyrus, well, Cyrus had the most loving, joyful heart of them all. Because of his young age, he had been the closest to Mama before she passed. It was almost as if she had never left him. He would often say things that led you to believe he had just spoken with her.
Mae loved them both with all her heart, and at this moment was very proud of them. They were both wearing the black serge suits she herself had made for them. Of course, they were both still growing, and next year those suits would go to the church for distribution. For today, they were a perfect fit. Cyrus had cut a small camellia blossom for each of their lapels, and was holding one for Papa. Mae was about to speak when both boys stood and looked to the top of the stairs. Mae turned and saw her papa start down.
****
Three faces smiled as Garth stepped closer. Garth looked at those upturned faces and his heart swelled with love. No man could ask for a finer family than the one he was blessed with. His sons were growing strong and honorable, and his daughter was blessed with an incomparable inner beauty.
Now he was about to give them another brother and a woman who would love them as if they were her own. Cyrus solemnly handed the flower to Mae, who then pinned it to Garth’s suit. Her eyes were shining.
He was afraid if she cried now they would all be undone, so he said, “No long faces, you three. Today is Christmas Eve, and we’re all being given a couple of beautiful presents, so let’s get this show on the road.” Samuel got the door, and Garth shooed them all out to the motorcar.
****
Mrs. Finch had outdone herself. The large front parlor was decked with greenery and shining in the light of dozens of candles. It was fragrant with the scents of pine and vanilla. They were all assembled and waiting for Mr. Finch and Eleanor to enter. They turned at the sound of footsteps. There stood Patrick. His freckled face was split with a toothy grin. He was holding a powder-blue satin pillow. Tied to the pillow were two plain gold circles.
Patrick walked forward, his head held high. He had been given a very important job, and he was determined to complete it with all the grownup dignity he could muster. He stopped when he got to Garth and looked up at his soon-to-be father.
Mae’s eyes filled as Garth placed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder, signaling a job well done. And then the doorway was filled with Eleanor and Mr. Finch.
Mae looked at Eleanor and then turned her attention to Papa. She gave a deep sigh. If Edward looked at her one day with half the love she could see in her papa’s eyes, she would die a happy woman. She turned back to Eleanor. No wonder Garth’s eyes were shining. The woman was always beautiful, but today, well, she was angelic. Her red hair was softened by the candlelight, and her complexion took on a peachy glow. The dress was designed to be demure and enticing at the same time, which was no mean trick. It accentuated Eleanor’s full bosom, clung to her neat waist, and then belled gently over her hips to swish against the floor when she moved. The top of her bosom was covered in an opaque, chiffon ruffle, with similar ruffles at the ends of her sleeves. While all this was beautiful, nothing compared with the look of love on her face.
They stopped in front of the minister; Mr. Finch placed a kiss on her right hand, which he then gave to Garth. When their hands met, Eleanor began to melt. She had resigned herself to her widowhood. Then the Lord had given her a totally unexpected gift. He had wrapped it up in this handsome, virile man, this man who made her feel young and special and womanly. This man who made her want things she’d long forgotten.
The service was simple and short. In no time, the minister was saying, “You may kiss the bride.” As their lips met, Eleanor could hear the clapping, but when his mouth took hers she lost all sense of others. They were suspended in time.
Garth became aware the room had gone silent. He lifted his head and took a deep breath, then turned to face the room. “Thank you, all of you, for sharing this celebration with us.”
Eleanor knew he was giving her time to collect herself. She now turned to face this group of wonderful people she held so dear.
She smiled at them as she turned a becoming shade of pink. “My thanks, as well. Having you all here to share this moment means so much to us.”
****
Mrs. Finch had champagne for the adults and apple cider for the young ones.
Toasts were made amid much laughter. Mrs. Finch was very proud of her cook, Louise, especially tonight, and with just cause. The wedding party and guests dined on delicious roast pork with candied yams, followed by a beautiful three-tiered cake with sugared violets sprinkled over it.
They gathered in the parlor later, for the gift giving. Hansu presented Eleanor with a bolt of purple silk from China. Cyrus gave her a bottle of lavender water he had infused himself. And then there was Samuel’s gift. He presented her with an eight-inch by eight-inch square box. It was made of cherry wood and intricately carved. Each side showed a pair of clasped hands displaying a wedding ring on each.
“Oh, Samuel, this is beautiful, and I will treasure it always,” Eleanor said with tears in her eyes.
There was much hugging, and good wishes given, as they prepared to leave for the hotel. Finally, there was the tossing of the flower petals.
Mr. Finch had made arrangements for a driver to take them to the Leon, and Samuel would pick them up tomorrow after lunch.
Mae thanked the Finches again for helping to make the ceremony a wonderful memory for all of them. Samuel rounded up the boys, and soon they were on the way home. Patrick and Cyrus kept up a constant stream of chatter, allowing Mae’s mind to wander. How would she feel when it was her time to be a bride? But, before that time arrived, there would be a huge hurdle to cross. She would need to tell Edward about the event. She would need to know, in her heart, that he had no misgivings. She would need to hear him say the words, tell her he loved her no matter what her past held. She would not dwell on that now, though. Today was the beginning of a new family. Next week was the beginning of her project. It would be a new year, and she would not mar it with old memories.
****
Garth was aware of the soft pace of Eleanor’s breath as she drifted off to sleep. Her head was on his shoulder, and she was wrapped in his arms. He could feel the beat of her heart against his chest. It was slower now, but a short time ago, it had pounded with the strength of their passion. Each of them had been surprised by their response to one another. Surprised, but very happy. The instant ignition had climbed to a blinding blaze before they had surrendered to the heat. As they lay there looking into each other’s eyes, Garth had kissed her softly and said, “I am truly a blessed man.”
She had st
roked his face and smiled. “No more blessed than I, sweetheart, for you have helped me remember what it feels like to be a well-loved woman.”
Now, as he lay listening to the slow in and out of her breath, his mind was filled with the abundance of good in his life. He knew he’d done nothing to deserve the many blessings he’d been given, and so he vowed he would try to live his life in a manner of thanks to his Lord.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hardwick woke with a start. His heart was pounding, and he found his legs damn near tied to the bed by the twisted sheets. Awareness seeped in slowly. He’d been dreaming. The dream was hanging on to the edge of his awareness like a spider refusing to let go of his web even as it gets torn down. Ah, there it was. He’d been dreaming about the old bird. She was giving him the same lecture she had given him in life. He was smart. He was educated. He was even charming. He should try to find a legitimate occupation to which he could dedicate his life.
Hardwick stretched, jerked his legs free of the sheets, and stood. The smell of coffee finally worked its way into his mind. The old Cuban housekeeper must have brought it in. He poured a cup and moved to the window. It had to be near noon. The sun was blazing in a cloudless sky. It was the end of March, with the temperature staying a balmy eighty degrees, cooled only by the sea breeze sweeping in off the Atlantic. He tried to clear his head as he sipped the strong brew, but the old bird would not leave him alone.
He remembered clearly the first time they’d met. He had been a defiant sixteen-year-old orphan. She had been a shrewd, rich, old widow. Hardwick had been forced to stand by while his father squandered the family fortune and then took the cowardly way out, with a pistol. His mother had written him a letter of introduction on her deathbed. Alone and angry, he’d made his way from England. The letter had been sealed, so he’d never known exactly what pleas for help were enclosed. He’d practically dared the old bird to have sympathy for him. He’d had all the pity he could stand from those looking to collect on his father’s debts. They had descended like buzzards, when his mother finally succumbed to her own weakness.