Wedding Belles

by Janice Hanna

  Winnie sighed. “Guess we have no choice.”

  Together, they made the descent into the dining room, where they found their mother pacing. She pointed her index finger at Lottie. “I blame you for this.”

  Great. Someone else blaming something on me.

  Lottie gazed at her mother and sighed. “What is it, Mama?”

  “You and that—that pie kitchen. You had to go and do it, didn’t you?”

  “Do what?”

  “Enter my recipe.”

  “W–what? Mama, I—”

  Lottie’s father cleared his throat. “Dorothy, before you say another word, you need to know that I did it, not Lottie. She didn’t even know about it.”

  “You—you what?”

  “I entered the strawberry pie in the contest and it won. The Sanders’ Strawberry has received a place of honor behind the glass case at Parker’s Pie Parlor. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Mother looked as if she might burst. “Harold, how could you? You’ve subjected me to shame and ridicule from the other ladies at the league. I’ll never be president now.”

  “Shame? How could it be shameful? Did you not hear what I said, woman? Your pie was chosen. Everyone in town will see our family name on the wall at the pie parlor.”

  “Yes, that’s the problem. Everyone in town will see, and they will all think that I submitted it. I’m going right over to that lodge and demand they remove it at once.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.”

  Lottie gazed back and forth between her parents, wondering how this would end.

  “They have no legal right. I didn’t submit that recipe. It’s been stolen from me.”

  “Dorothy, think carefully about what you’re doing.”

  “I am thinking. I’m thinking that they’ve taken my recipe— a private family recipe—and used it to their own advantage to raise money for that brothel of theirs. What they’ve done is illegal.”

  “No.” He stepped in front of her, a firm look on his face. “What I’ve done is perfectly legal.”

  “We’ll just see what Thad Baker has to say about that.”

  “He will say that you don’t have a leg to stand on.”

  This certainly piqued Lottie’s interest.

  “What do you mean?” Her mother dropped into a chair.

  “I mean, you can fuss and fume all you like, but there will be no lawsuit over that pie. Would you like to know why?” He walked across the room and took his seat at the head of the table. “Because it was never your recipe to begin with. It was my mother’s.”

  Lottie couldn’t help but notice that Mama’s face paled.

  “Merciful heavens. I’d forgotten.”

  “Well, I hadn’t. It’s been my favorite pie since childhood. And the Sanders name is my mother’s name—a name I’d like to see honored, now that she’s no longer with us. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like for folks in town to know that Sanders’ Strawberry Pie is the featured pie of the week at the lodge. And I would appreciate it if you would call off those hounds who might try to ruin my fun.”

  The room grew silent. Well, silent until Winnie knocked over the pitcher of cream and Becky came in to clean up the mess.

  Lottie plopped down in a chair, overwhelmed. With so many other real-life messes to tend to, a glass of spilled milk seemed small in comparison.

  TWENTY

  REVENGE IN THE ROCKIES

  Friends, are you ready to be swept away to worlds yet unknown? Ready to travel to the highest heights? When you attend the upcoming theatrical at Parker Lodge, our set design will transport you to parts of the globe you have only imagined. You’ll be amazed at the intricate handiwork and the exquisite paint colors. Our hats are off to Chauncy James, local woodworker, who designed and crafted most of the set pieces, including the backdrop of mountains. They are so lifelike, you can almost sense the weight of the clouds settling in around them. Speaking of clouds, there’s been a heavy fog over our area of town for some time now. We’re praying it lifts soon. In the meantime, we continue to lift our eyes unto the hills. —Your friends at Parker Lodge

  JUST TWO WEEKS BEFORE the debut of the melodrama—which Lottie had taken to calling Revenge in the Rockies—she made a decision to take the ladies back to the mountains for the day. They could all use a break from their labors, and she felt sure the beauty of their surroundings would invigorate them and put things into perspective. It would provide the necessary respite from their heavy load and get them away from the men for a while.

  Well, all the men but Gil. She needed him to get them there, after all. This time the journey up the mountain on the trailer was made in near silence. Traveling without Jeb and the other fellas wasn’t as much fun, but Lottie didn’t mind. Keeping their distance from the men would serve the ladies well, at least for now.

  They arrived midmorning at Longs Peak, and she felt herself breathing more evenly. Hopefully the ladies would sense the peacefulness of the place and begin to let go of some of their bitterness toward the men.

  They quickly set up a picnic spot. Cornelia turned around in circles, her eyes wide as she gazed at the mountains in the distance.

  “This scenery. It’s…magnificent.” Grace’s eyes misted over. “The colors here are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I’m not sure why they move me like they do, but the blue sky, the green grass, the white snow on the sandy-colored mountains—it’s breathtaking. Makes me wish I could paint. Only, I’m not sure I could recreate the colors. And I certainly couldn’t capture the majesty of all of this. The mountains are…” She shook her head. “There really are no words to describe them.”

  Lottie stared at the clouds, which hung low over the mountain peaks. “I know, because I’ve tried for years. You should read my journal. I’ve tried to write poems about the mountains, but they fall short every time.”

  “I’d love to see them anyway. I’ll bet they’re much better than you think.” Grace gave Lottie an admiring look. “Don’t sell yourself short, Lottie. Promise me?”

  “I—I won’t.” She hardly knew what to say next, so instead of speaking she turned her gaze to the mountain and fought to hold back the tears that threatened to erupt.

  “I said it that first day we came to the mountains for a picnic… .” Cornelia’s voice trailed off to a whisper. “I can almost feel God when I’m here.” She turned to face Lottie, tears covering her lashes. “Isn’t that odd? I mean, there’s no church, no steeple, no stained-glass windows. But God is as close—maybe closer—than ever.” She brushed away a tear and shrugged.

  “That’s not silly at all.” Lottie placed her hand on Cornelia’s arm. “We’re always drawn to things of beauty, and what’s better than God’s creation? It’s grander than any man-made building. And I think the reason we sense His nearness in the mountains is because they’re so majestic. When we look at them, we realize that only God could have created something so—so…”

  “Incredible?” Cornelia said.

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Incredible. I like to think that God reached down with His fingertip and created the canyons and valleys then folded His palm to pull the mountains into place.”

  “What a fascinating image.” Cornelia’s eyes misted over. “I guess I never took the time to think about where the mountains came from.”

  A familiar Scripture flitted through Lottie’s mind, one she’d memorized as a child. She spoke the words aloud: “ ‘For, lo, he that formeth the mountains, and createth the wind, and declareth unto man what is his thought, that maketh the morning darkness, and treadeth upon the high places of the earth, the Lord, the God of hosts, is his name.’ ”

  “Lottie, that’s beautiful.” Grace whispered the last few words then turned her gaze back to the hills.

  Lottie’s thoughts drifted to her childhood, to the many times she’d quoted that Scripture. “It’s a verse from the book of Amos, in the Old Testament. It’s always been dear to me.”

  “It’s perfect.” Cornelia’s damp ey
es now sparkled. “It makes me wonder what took me so long to consider the fact that there is a God…at all.”

  “He’s there all right. And He’s a magnificent Creator, isn’t He?” Lottie sighed. “That’s how we know we can trust Him. If He took the time to create such a lovely backdrop for our lives, I have to believe He cares about the very details of our lives as well.”

  Cornelia sighed. “I’ve tried so hard to create a good life for myself and yet…” She shrugged. “Things don’t always work out like I hope they will. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten my hopes up and then had them dashed. It happens all the time in theater. And in love too.” She gave a little shrug.

  “That’s where trust comes in, I suppose.”

  “I guess.” Cornelia took a few steps across the field, holding up her hem as she stepped across a tiny stream of water. “Until I came here, the only mountains in my life were the obstacles…the things that got in my way. Seemed like I faced them at every turn.”

  “The Bible says you can speak to those mountains and they have to move.”

  Cornelia gave her a funny look. “Speak to the mountains? What does that mean?”

  “It means those obstacles in your life don’t have to be obstacles. If you have enough faith, you can speak to them and they will move.”

  “Interesting.” Cornelia turned to face the nearest peak and hollered, “Get out of my way, mountain!” which brought a handful of the other ladies running.

  “What’s all the ruckus over here?” Fanny asked. “Thought maybe someone fell in the creek.”

  “No.” Cornelia smiled. “Just yelling at mountains.”

  “Hollering at the mountains, eh?” Fanny grinned. “Are they echoing back?” She slapped herself on the knee and laughed.

  Lottie did her best not to roll her eyes. Instead, she focused on the group and smiled. “Ladies, before we have lunch, I want to show you something. I’m going to take you for a walk to the edge of Longs Peak so we can look down on the most beautiful sight in the world.”

  Prudy shook her head. “You ladies go on without me. I’ll just stay here and set up.”

  “But why?” Lottie asked. “It won’t be the same without you.”

  Prudy busied herself setting up a picnic area. She opened the basket and pulled out the quilt, which she unfolded and placed on the ground. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t make myself do it.”

  “Whyever not?” Lottie put her hand on Prudy’s arm.

  “Because I’ve always been terrified of heights.” Prudy visibly trembled. “In fact, I’ve always been terrified…period.”

  “Where does that fear come from?” Fanny asked.

  Prudy settled onto the blanket then put her hand over her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked up at them. “I think…” She paused and her gaze shifted downward. “I think it goes back to my childhood. I was raised in such a poor home. My father died when I was three, and my poor mama…” Prudy dabbed at her eyes and grew silent.

  Grace settled onto the quilt next to her.

  “You’ve never a met a woman more gripped with fear,” Prudy whispered. “She always anticipated the worst, and in the end, well…”

  “What happened?” Grace asked, her voice filled with tenderness.

  “In the end she took her own life.”

  Lottie gasped. She dropped to her knees next to her friend. “Oh, Prudy. You poor thing.” She threw her arms around the young woman’s neck, unable to hold back her tears. In spite of everything she’d been through with Mama, she couldn’t imagine losing her. Not for a moment. Why, the very idea made her heart feel as heavy as lead. How ever had Prudy endured such a devastating blow?

  “You precious girl.” Fanny eased her way down and joined the circle. Before long, all the ladies sat together on the quilt.

  Prudy gazed off in the distance, her eyes still brimming with tears. “Because I was the oldest, I had to care for my little brothers and sisters. Only…” She shook her head, tears now tumbling down her pink cheeks. “Only, I failed. And the one thing that scared me most—losing them—actually happened. They were taken to the children’s home, away from me, away from the only family they’d ever known.” She cried in earnest now.

  Lottie tried to think of something to say but couldn’t. Oh, how her heart broke at this revelation. Finally, when Prudy’s sobs slowed, she knew just what to say. “Estes Park is a place of healing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you might not know this, but when Mr. Freelan Stanley, the man who owns the Stanley Hotel, came to town, he had consumption. The doctors didn’t give him much hope. After being in Estes Park for a short time, he recovered. The Lord healed him. He used the town to accomplish it. Well, the town and the mountains.” She gestured to the beautiful peaks nearby. “But this isn’t just a place for the healing of bodies. It’s a place for the healing of souls.”

  “W–what do you mean?” Prudy swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “The kind of healing I’m talking about is spiritual in nature.”

  A couple of the women shifted their position and looked elsewhere. Clearly they didn’t wish to discuss this. Oh, but she must forge ahead. Hadn’t the Lord opened the door for this conversation? Surely He had a plan.

  “Please hear me out.” Lottie glanced from woman to woman. “I know the ladies at the church didn’t make the best first impression, but I hope you can put that behind you.”

  “They left a bitter taste in my mouth, to be sure.” Prudy’s shoulders slumped forward.

  “We need to forgive them and move on, for only in doing so will we all receive the kind of healing we seek.” Fanny rose and took Prudy by the hand. “I know it’s going to be hard, but I want you to come with me to the edge of the mountain and look down.”

  “I—I can’t.”

  “We won’t let anything happen to you,” Fanny said.

  “That’s right.” Lottie nodded and extended her hand. “We just want you to see that you can let go of your fears. God can heal you of that. And as He does, He will show you things you’ve never witnessed before. Are you willing to give it a try?”

  Prudy hesitated then said, “I’ll walk with you for a while and decide when we get close. Is that fair?”

  “More than fair.”

  Prudy took Lottie’s hand and rose. Lottie led the way along the familiar path to the edge of the peak. How many times she’d made this journey as a teen. What joy she’d found in the beautiful view. Today, she offered up a silent prayer that Prudy would find that same joy, that same sense of release.

  They reached the outskirts of the overlook in less than thirty minutes. As they got closer to the edge, Prudy held back. When Lottie encouraged her to move forward, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Lottie, but I just can’t.”

  “I won’t make you, of course. But it makes me really sad, because the view is unlike anything you will ever see elsewhere. Truly.”

  “Do I have to get right up to the edge?” Prudy asked.

  “No. There’s a spot where we can stand, probably twenty yards or so from the edge. And trust me when I say that I’m not going right to the edge, either. Just close enough to get a good look at the view.”

  “Maybe I could come a few feet closer.” Prudy slipped her arm through Lottie’s and took a few tentative steps. “Not too close.” She squeezed her eyes shut as they walked out onto the overlook.

  “I promise we won’t get off the trail,” Lottie said. “Just to the point where you can see down. All right?”

  Prudy nodded and kept walking. A few paces later, Lottie stopped. They were quite a ways from the edge, but even from here, the valley opened up in front of them in all of its beauty.

  “Open your eyes, Prudy,” she whispered.

  Prudy shook her head.

  “When you’re ready, dear,” Fanny said. “Trust me, you don’t want to miss this.”

  Prudy opened one eye and then the other. She clos
ed them right away and looked as if she might be sick. Her face turned ashen and she trembled so badly that Lottie wondered if she might faint dead away. Little good that would do. In that moment, goose bumps covered Lottie’s arms. She felt the presence of the Lord as never before and, at His nudging, began to sing:

  “I’m pressing on the upward way,

  New heights I’m gaining ev’ry day,

  Still praying as I’m onward bound,

  ‘Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.’ ”

  Prudy’s eyes opened. “Oh, I love that song. Must’ve heard it as a child or something.” She released a slow breath. Her eyes fluttered shut again. Lottie continued to sing.

  “I want to scale the utmost height

  And catch a gleam of glory bright;

  But still I’ll pray till heav’n I’ve found,

  ‘Lord, lead me on to higher ground.’ ”

  Fanny and Prudy added their voices to hers as she sang the chorus:

  “Lord, lift me up and let me stand

  By faith on heaven’s tableland;

  A higher plane than I have found,

  ‘Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.’ ”

  By the time they finished the chorus, Prudy’s eyes were fully open. She gazed at the magnificent scene before them.

  “Oh my goodness!”

  “Told you.” Lottie grinned. “It’s quite a view, isn’t it?”

  “Yes! Oh my.” Prudy slipped her arm out of Lottie’s and put her hand over her mouth. “This is the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen.” She pointed off to the west. “And look! Is that a rainbow?”

  “I think so.” Lottie squinted to get a better look. “Yes, that’s a rainbow. We see those a lot in the mountains. Really adds sparkle and shine to the whole portrait, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  Lottie sighed. “You know, I was once jealous of all of you. You’ve traveled all over this big wide country of ours, and I’ve never left Colorado.”

  “Aw, you sweet girl.” Prudy gave her a hug.

  Lottie gazed out over the majestic scene God had painted before her, overcome with emotion. “But ladies, I’ve been to the tops of mountain peaks and I’ve waded in rapid rivers. I’ve fished for trout in a lake so beautiful that it made you dizzy. I’ve seen sunsets so brilliant that they make the most beautiful painting pale by comparison. I’ve watched an eagle swoop so low that I thought he would pick me up and fly me off to the skies. I’ve seen rainbows over canyons and fields of wildflowers. I have rarely left Estes Park—certainly got no farther than Loveland—and yet I feel I’ve had enough adventures to last a lifetime.”