by Janette Oke
"I think I might be able to find some little corner to stick more of your books in if you'd like, Elizabeth."
I wanted to throw my arms about his neck and hug him, but we were still on the Calgary streets and it was still daylight; instead, I squeezed his hand and gave him another smile. "Oh, thank you. I would so much like to take them. There really aren't very many and they don't make a very big stack, but I just couldn't get one more thing into my trunk."
We walked on, talking of our new life together and many other things. There was something very special about this night before we would become husband and wife. We hated to see it end.
When we did return to the house, the western sun had just dipped behind the distant hills. A soft light glowed from each of the windows along the lazy sidewalk. The air was becoming cooler but was still pleasant. Wynn slowed his steps as we went up the walk.
"I don't think I will come in, Elizabeth. You need this last evening with your family. I'm going to have you for the rest of our lives."
Wynn stepped from the walk to the warm shadows of the big elm tree. I knew I would not protest this time when he took me in his arms.
"I won't see you until tomorrow at the church," he whispered. "Now don't you go and change your mind."
"There's not a chance," I assured him, my arms locked tightly about his neck.
"I still can't believe it-tomorrow! And tomorrow is finally almost here. You'll never know what a fright it gave me when I got that early posting."
"Fright?"
"I thought I would have to leave you behind. I knew it would be unfair to ask you to wait for three or four or even five years. I was almost beside myself. I thought of quitting the Force, but I didn't have the money to start out some place else."
"Oh, Wynn."
"I never dreamed you would ever be able, and willing, to rush into a wedding like this. I hope you never feel that you've been `cheated,' Elizabeth."
"Cheated?"
"Cheated out of the kind of wedding you've always dreamed of."
I laughed. "The fact is, Wynn," I said, "I spent very little time dreaming about weddings until I met you. Then I dreamed-I dreamed a lot. But the wedding wouldn't be much without you there by my side, now would it? So, if there's a choice between the trimmings or you-then it's easy to leave out the trimmings."
Wynn kissed me again.
"I must go," he said after several moments. "My bride must be fresh and glowing on her wedding day; and if I don't let you get your beauty sleep, it will be my fault if you aren't."
He saw me to the door and left. I went in to join the family. Father and Mother were ready to retire for the night. It had been a long, hard day for them. At Father's suggestion, we gathered in the living room for a time of Scripture reading and prayer. Tears squeezed out from under our eyelids as we prayed together. Even Matthew, somewhat shyly, prayed aloud. I was touched at his earnest petition that God would bless his big sister Beth and her Wynn as they started out life together. It was a time I shall always remember. Never had I felt closer to my family than when we sat, hands intertwined, praying together as our tears flowed unheeded.
I did not really get the rest Wynn had suggested, for Julie and I could not refrain from catching up on a whole year in the next few short hours. We talked on and on. Each time the downstairs cuckoo sounded out the hour, I would determine that I must stop talking and get some sleep; but each time one or the other of us would think of something we just had to share or had to ask the other.
Julie insisted on knowing all about Wynn-where I had met him, how I had won him. She would have loved to hear each detail of our romance; and, if I had been like Julie, I might have wished to share it all. I was not like Julie and therefore kept many of the details to myself. They were treasured things and not to be shared with any other than Wynn himself.
"When did he first tell you he loved you?" asked nosey Julie.
"Hey," I said sleepily, "isn't that a bit personal?"
"Oh, come on, Beth. It must have taken your breath away. Tell me about it."
"Not a chance," I countered. "It took my breath away, yes. But it is for me alone."
I thought back to the scene at the railway station when I was all set to head back east. That was the first time Wynn had confessed that he loved me. I still tingled as I thought of it.
"How long did it take before he proposed?" Julie persisted.
"Forever," I said with meaning, and Julie laughed.
"Oh, Beth. Get serious."
"I'm serious."
"Did you love him first?"
"I thought I did. I thought so for a long time. Wynn has told me since that he did love me. He was just so sure it wouldn't work that he wouldn't admit he loved me."
" `Wouldn't work'?"
"Because of his job. He didn't think I was the kind of woman who could endure the North."
"Oh, pshaw!" exploded Julie, then covered her mouth guiltily in case she had disturbed the sleeping household.
"My feelings exactly," I returned in a loud whisper; and we both giggled, bringing the blankets up to our faces to muffle the sound like we used to when we were kids and had been told to go to sleep but talked instead.
"How did you finally convince him?" Julie asked.
"Well, I-I-I'm not sure," I stammered. "I left."
"Left?"
"On the train-for home."
"But you're still here."
"Well, yes. I never really went. But I was going to leave. I was all set to go. I had even shipped my trunks. I was all ready to board the train."
Julie, sensing an exciting romantic adventure, squealed and then jerked up the cover to smother it.
"Look, Julie," I said firmly. "That's all that I'm going to tell you. I was leaving; Wynn came to get me. He asked me to stay; he asked me to marry him. I stayed. Now, let's talk about something else."
"We really should go to sleep." Julie tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.
"Well, we have only tonight to talk. Or do you want to go to sleep? You must be tired after all that time on the train."
"Oh, no. I'm not tired. Not at all. I want to talk. I haven't even told you yet-"
For several hours, I lay and listened to Julie recount her romances of the last several months. There were thrills and there were heartbreaks. There were fantastic fellows and there were bores. There were ups and there were downs. I wondered whom Julie would have to share all her secrets with once I was gone.
"Is there anyone special?" I finally asked.
Julie thought deeply. "You know, that's a funny thing, Bethie. Even as I lie here and think of them all, not a one of them is really what I want. Isn't that silly?"
"I don't think so."
"Then why do I pay any attention to them?"
"You just haven't found the right one yet," I assured her. I could have also added, and you just haven't matured enough to know what it is that you do want, but I didn't.
"You know what I think?" said Julie slowly, deliberately, as though a new and astonishing truth had suddenly been revealed to her. "I think I've been going at this whole thing all wrong. I've been out looking for the fellow-oh, not particularly the right one, just anyone-and I should have been like you and let him come looking for me."
"But Wynn wasn't looking for me, either," I confessed.
"Well, it happened, didn't it? You did get together. Somebody must have been looking for someone!"
We lay quietly for a few minutes.
"Beth," Julie whispered. "Did you ever pray about the man you were to marry?"
"Sometimes. I prayed that God would keep me from making a wrong decision."
'And Mother prayed. I know that. She prays all the time. She doesn't say much about it, but I'm always finding her praying. And Father prays. In our family prayer time, he always prays that God will guide each of his children in every decision of life."
"What are you getting at?" I had to ask her.
"Maybe it wasn't you-and maybe it
wasn't Wynn. Maybe it was God who saw to it that you got together."
"I've always felt that," I answered simply.
"Well, I've never seen it that way before. Guess I sort of thought if I left it to God, He would pick out some sour-faced, serious older man with a kind, fatherly attitude-and poor looks. I'm not sure I was willing to trust Him to choose my future husband."
I laughed in spite of myself, but Julie was very serious.
"No, Beth, I mean it," she continued. "God didn't pick that kind of man for you. Wynn is just-is just-"
She hesitated. I wasn't sure if she couldn't come up with the right word or was afraid I would object to her "swooning" over my husbandto-be.
"Perfect." I finished for her.
"Perfect," she repeated. "Tall, muscular, strong-yet gentle, understanding, and so very good-looking!" she finished with an exaggerated sigh.
I laughed again.
"Do you think God could really find me one like that?"
"Oh, Julie. There is only one just like Wynn."
"I s'pose," Julie sighed again. "Well, what about second best?"
"Look, Julie, when God finds you the right one, you won't think he is second best-not to anyone in the world."
"Really? Do you truly think God could direct in this, too, Beth?" Julie was serious again.
"Why don't you leave it with Him and see?" I prompted her.
"Why is it so much easier to trust God for some things than for others?" she wondered.
"I really don't know. We should be wise enough to know we can trust Him with everything, but it seems as if He is forever needing to remind us-one thing at a time. Maybe it's because we just hang onto some things too tightly, wanting our own way too much."
"It's hard to let go of some things."
"I know."
"I wasn't going to tell you this, Beth; but, after you left home, I cried. I cried every night for two weeks, and then I finally realized I had to let go. I prayed about it-and really meant what I prayed-and God took away the sorrow from my heart and gave me a new love and respect for my older sister. I can be happy with you now, Beth, even though it means I really am going to lose you."
I reached out a hand in the darkness and placed it on Julie's cheek. It was damp with tears, but her voice did not break.
"I missed you, too," I said honestly. "I missed you, too; and, Julie, my deepest desire for you is that someday God truly might bring someone into your life-oh, not another Wynn, but someone you can love just as much, be just as proud of. I'm sure that somewhere there is someone-just for you. Be ready for him, Julie. Be ready to be the kind of wife he needs, the kind of woman he can love deeply, can be proud of-not just of her outer beauty but of her inner beauty as well. I love you, Julie."
✓~ie 7&ea?g 9-1 ay
In spite of the fact I had not slept much the night before, I awoke the next morning with excitement bringing me quickly and easily from my bed. Julie still slept, one hand tucked beneath her pretty face. She looked more like a beautiful child than an attractive young woman, still oblivious to the world and all the duties of this important day.
I tiptoed about as I dressed and left the room. The wedding ceremony had been set for eleven o'clock. Following that would be the reception dinner with family and close friends. Mary, bless her heart, had insisted she would he responsible for that and had engaged some caterers to help her with the preparations and serving.
After the reception, we would open the wedding gifts and spend some time with family and friends before boarding the four o'clock train for Banff.
Our honeymoon would not be nearly as long as we had once planned it. Four days in the beautiful mountains did not seem nearly enough. We would not travel leisurely. We would not be taking a cabin in some remote area where we could hike and climb and just rest and relax in the grandeur of those magnificent mountains. Instead, we would take the train; Wynn had booked a room at the hotel, and from there we would make our little excursions into privacy.
The day we would be returning from Banff would be the day before we headed north, so all of our time then would be taken with last-minute preparations and final packing.
My friends from Pine Springs had been so disappointed we would not have time to visit them before leaving. They had planned a community shower to follow our wedding, if it had occurred in September as originally planned.
"Ve can't let you yust go off-like dat," wailed Anna. "Ve need to gif you our vishes, too!"
"Can't you come to the wedding?" I pleaded over the sputtering lines of the telephone system.
"Ve'll try. Ve'll try so hard. Da little ones vould hurt so to miss," said Anna. "Dey haf talked 'bout not'ing else for veeks."
"Perhaps Phillip would have room to bring you," I suggested. But I was afraid Phillip's car might be full.
"Ve'll see," promised Anna. "Ve'll see."
But I shoved all of that from my mind and tried to concentrate instead on what needed to be done in the few brief hours before my wedding.
Mary, already in the kitchen, motioned me to a chair beside her and nodded her head toward the coffeepot on the back of the stove.
"Pour yourself a cup, Beth, and join me. Always best to organize one's thoughts before plowing on ahead. Saves time that way."
I agreed and went for a cup. The next several minutes were spent "organizing."
Mary held a pencil in her slim fingers and jotted down as we discussed.
"The flowers!" she squealed suddenly. "Beth, did you order the flowers?"
My hand shot to my forehead. I had not. I had thought of it a number of times but never did get it done.
Mary looked nervous. "What ever will we do?" she asked me, not nearly as composed as when we began.
For a moment I was stunned; then suddenly I remembered those beautiful roses growing in Mary's backyard.
"Do you mind sharing your roses?"
"My roses?"
"The ones out back. They are beautiful. I noticed them a few days ago. They would work-"
"But we have no one to arrange them," Mary interrupted me.
"You can arrange them. You do a beautiful job. I'd like two bouquets-one on each side of the altar."
"But your bridal bouquet-"
"I'll carry roses, too."
"But-" Mary was going to protest again.
"I'll just carry a loose bouquet. Just a few long-stemmed flowers. They'll be beautiful."
"They are all thorns," Mary argued.
"We'll cut the thorns off. Matthew or William will be glad to do that."
Mary smiled. Then she nodded her head and took another swallow of coffee.
"So we have the flowers settled. Where do we go from here?"
We went over everything again. My dress was ready. Julie was to stand beside me. Her dress would need pressing after its long train ride, but Julie would take care of that. The dresses were all ready for Sarah and Kathleen. The cake had been done by a lady friend of Mary's. It was simpler than it would have been had she been given more time; but I was finding more and more beauty in simplicity. Phillip, Wynn's brother, was to stand up with Wynn; and Phillip, Jr., was to bear the rings.
"We have no pillow for the rings!" I cried suddenly when we came to that item.
"That's no problem," a soft voice said behind me. "I've been feeling bad that I have had nothing to do with getting ready for my daughter's wedding. Just give me some pretty scraps and I'll have a pillow in no time."
It was Mother. I jumped from my chair to hug her. She held me for a moment.
"Do you have any suitable pieces?" she asked at last.
"I have some nice bits left from my wedding dress."
"That will do just fine. And lace?"
"I've some of that, too, though I'm not sure it's enough."
Mary had been pouring another cup of coffee. She set it on the table and pulled up another chair for Mother.
"I've lots of ribbon and lace," she assured us. "I sew most of the girls' things, and they always ins
ist upon `fancies' on all of their dresses."
We drank our coffee and continued to cover all the details of the coming wedding. Here and there we had to improvise and make other arrangements. For some reason, it did not panic me. The "organized Elizabeth" of old would have been horrified to do up a wedding soso haphazardly. Instead, I went through the activities of the morning in a comfortable daze. In just a few short hours, all the fussing would be behind me; and I would be Mrs. Wynn Delaney.
,Warriaye
Our wedding day was gloriously sunshiny. I had not even thought to check the weather until I was actually in Jonathan's car and on my way to the church. It could have been pouring and I would never have noticed in my state of excitement. I stopped long enough to breathe a very short prayer of thanks to God for arranging such a beautiful day and then turned my thoughts back to my wedding again.
There had been some moments when I thought I would never make the eleven o'clock date with Wynn. In spite of our "organizing," there was much last-minute commotion, and the whole house seemed to be in a frenzy. Even Jonathan and Father were enlisted for tying little girls' bows and putting on slippers.
After I had slipped into the soft, creamy folds of my satin gown, I began to work on my hair. The locks that normally fell into place with little coaxing refused to go right. I tried again with similar results. I noticed then that my hands were shaking in my excitement. Julie came to my rescue and, with a few deft turns and skillful motions, she had my hair smartly and firmly in place, ready for the veil. I thanked her and went to slip into my wedding shoes.
By the time Julie and I came downstairs, one carload had already left for the church. Mother and Father waited in the hall looking serene and composed in spite of the last-minute flurries of the household. Mother's eyes misted slightly as she looked at me.
"You look beautiful, my dear," she whispered. "Your dress is lovely."
Father remarked, "It's a shame to spend so much time on something that will scarcely be noticed."
I looked at him, puzzled.
"With your cheeks glowing and your eyes shining so, Elizabeth, no one will be able to take their eyes from your face."