[Canadian West 02] - When Comes the Spring

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[Canadian West 02] - When Comes the Spring Page 5

by Janette Oke


  Understanding, I smiled at Father as he stepped closer, and I reached up to kiss him on the cheek.

  We formed a close circle, the four of us-Father, Mother, Julie and I-our arms intertwined as we stood together for one last time in the hallway of brother Jon's lovely Calgary home. Father led in prayer, asking that the Lord would make my home, wherever it might be, a place of love. "Might there always be harmony and commitment, love and happiness. Might there be strength for the hard times, humor to ease the tense times, and shoulders always available for the times of tears," he prayed. I found it difficult to keep the tears from falling now, but I did not want to reach the church with swollen eyes and a smudged face, so I refused to allow myself to cry. Mother blew her nose softly and wiped at her eyes, and then we hastened to the car.

  As I stood waiting at the entrance of the church, my eyes on the back of the man whom I would soon be joining at the altar, my heart pounded wildly. Father must have sensed it, for he reached a reassuring hand out to me and held my hand tightly. I watched Julie slowly make her way down the aisle with proper and graceful steps, her soft skirts swirling out gently as she went. For a moment it had a dizzying effect on me, and I closed my eyes. It was my turn next, and I must be ready.

  I was still standing with my eyes tightly closed when Father took his first step. Startled, my eyes quickly opened and Father hesitated, to let me get in step with him. It was time-time for me to walk down the aisle to meet Wynn.

  I was completely oblivious to all the people in the pews. I don't even remember seeing the preacher who stood directly at the end of the aisle. All I remember is Wynn's face as he turned to watch me make that long, long, short walk to him. In a few minutes, I would be his wife! My husband, Wynn, was the refrain in my thoughts as I moved toward him. Lord, make me a worthy wife to this man.

  With a gentle pressure on my arm, my father stopped me. Had he not checked me, I'm sure, I would have kept right on walking until I could take Wynn's hand. My thoughts began to sort themselves out, and I hurriedly went over the ceremony in my mind. I was to wait here with my father until he responded to "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" Then I could step forward to be at Wynn's side.

  From then on, I concentrated very hard on the ceremony and was able to make the right responses at the right times. I was very, very conscious of Wynn by my side, of the significance of the words we were saying. As the soloist sang "The Wedding Prayer," we looked deeply into one another's eyes, secret messages passing between us. Wynn was saying, Are you absolutely sure? And I answered without a moment's hesitation, I've never been so sure of anything in my life. We had time for each to add, I love you so very very much, and Wynn gently squeezed my hand.

  The ceremony was over, and we walked back down the aisle together. Husband and wife. From now on, I would be with Wynn always. There would be no separation. Nothing would ever come between us.

  The entry of the church was packed with well-wishers. Anna and her entire family were there. I did not even have opportunity to ask them how they had come. We hugged one another and she kissed my cheek, telling me how beautiful I looked. I greeted the children. Lars had grown noticeably, even since I had last seen him. Olga grinned and whispered a few well-rehearsed phrases about my future happiness, but Else stopped and cautiously reached out a small hand to caress my dress.

  "It's beautiful. Did you make it?"

  "Yes, I did," I answered her.

  "It's beautiful," she said again. "So soft and smooth. You're a good sewer, Miss Thatcher."

  I did not notice the familiar title, but Wynn did. "Whoa now, Else," he laughed. "It's not `Miss Thatcher' anymore."

  . Else flushed slightly but laughed with Wynn. She put a small hand to her mouth and giggled, "I mean `Mrs. Wynn,"' she corrected herself.

  We let that go. Mrs. Wynn. It sounded rather homey. I wouldn't mind being called Mrs. Wynn at all.

  After we had been greeted by those who had shared our day, we returned to Jon and Mary's house for the reception. I don't remember much about the reception. I guess I was just too excited. I'm sure the lunch was delicious, but only because I heard other people say so.

  The meal was cleared away and we opened our gifts. We received so many lovely things, it kept me busy imagining how much they would add to our little wilderness home. There would be no problem in making it cozy and homelike. I also reminded myself of the last busy day we would have when we returned from our honeymoon-all of these additional things would have to be carefully packed. I was too excited to give it further thought now. I must take one thing at a time.

  It was finally time for us to change for our train trip to Banff. I went to the room I had shared the night before with Julie and eased the satin gown carefully over my head to keep from disarranging my hair. I stepped out of the brand-new shoes that pinched slightly and kicked them from me. It would be nice to wear something more comfortable.

  I decided to take a quick bath before dressing for the train. It would take only a few minutes and would help me to be relaxed and fresh.

  Afterward I donned a summery-looking suit of teal blue that Mother had brought with her from Madame Tanier's shop. I loved being so stylish way out here in the West! Father had chosen the hat, they said; I carefully put it in place, pleased at how well it suited me. I then picked up my bag and, with one last glance in the mirror, went to join Wynn.

  Jon was driving us to the station, so it would mean saying goodbye to my family before we left. I would have hated leaving them had not the future held so much promise. To enter the new life meant to say goodbye to the old. There was no way to hang onto both. Even I knew that.

  But it was hard to leave all those I loved. Our goodbyes were rather long and tearful, and repeated a number of times. Yet I was eager to be off, and finally we were able to pull ourselves away. Jon's car left the drive at a bit faster pace than normal. It would never do for the Banff train to leave without us.

  We reached the station just in time and, with a flurry of bags, managed to board the train.

  At first I was still in a whirl. Though my body had ceased to rush about, my mind still raced back and forth. Part of it was back with my family; part of it was reliving the wonderful, the harried, the tense, the busy moments of the wedding. Part of it was busy imagining my new life with Wynn. I tried to ease myself into the cushiony seat of the Pullman; but neither my body nor my mind would cooperate.

  Wynn seemed perfectly relaxed. He stretched out his long legs and smiled contentedly. He looked at me, and his eyes told me he would like to sweep me into his arms. Respecting my reserve in front of an "audience," he refrained because of the many other passengers on the train. Instead, he gave me a wink that made my heart leap. He reached for my hand and I clung to him. He must have felt the tenseness in me, for he began to stroke my fingers, talking softly as he did so.

  "It was a lovely wedding, Elizabeth. I don't see how it could have been nicer even if you had had all the time in the world."

  My whirling thoughts went over a few things I had overlooked or mixed up or that were not as I would have planned them.

  "Your gown was beautiful; did I tell you that?"

  I managed a little smile. "Father said no one would notice," I murmured.

  "I almost didn't," Wynn admitted. "Then I remembered a note of advice from brother Phillip. `Be sure to take a good look at the dress,' he told me. `She will expect you to know every detail, each row of lace, and the number of buttons.' Well, I will admit, Elizabeth, I didn't count the buttons, nor even the rows of lace, but I did take a good look at the lovely silk dress."

  "Satin," I corrected.

  "Satin," Wynn repeated, still rubbing a big finger softly up and down the back of my hand. "How would I know silk from satin? All I know for sure is that it wasn't serge or denim."

  In spite of my preoccupation, I laughed. It eased my tenseness some. I thought of Father's prayer about humor for the tense times! I hadn't realized before how important a bit of la
ughter could be. Wynn's pressure on my hand increased.

  "What will you remember about today, Elizabeth?" I knew he was trying to help me relax, and I appreciated it. I tried again to let my body snuggle against the back of the seat, but it was still stiff and resistant. I turned slightly to Wynn, making my voice even and light.

  "The rush. The last-minute flurry. The fear that I would never make it on time and that you would be waiting at the church, furious with me for being so late-and maybe even change your mind about getting married," I teased.

  Wynn smiled. "Oh, I wouldn't have changed my mind. There were at least three other single ladies there-I checked, just in case."

  I pulled my hand away in a mock pout. Wynn retrieved it.

  "What else?" he, prompted.

  I became more serious then. "Father's prayer. He always prays with us before any big event in our lives. I remember when Margaret was married. I was her bridesmaid, so I was there for Father's prayer. It was so beautiful. I remember thinking, `If I don't ever get married, IT miss that.' Still, I wasn't convinced that the prayer was sufficient reason to risk a marriage."

  "You're serious?"

  "At the time I was. Honest! I didn't really think I would ever feel inclined to marry."

  "Here I was taught to believe that every young girl is just waiting for the chance to lead some man-any man-to the altar."

  "I guess some are."

  "Then why not you?"

  "I don't know, really. I guess it wasn't because I was so against marriage. I just didn't like the insinuation that it was all a sensible girl thought about-that women were just for the marrying, that if I didn't marry, I was nothing. I didn't like that-that bigotry."

  I wasn't exactly calming down as Wynn had intended. The thoughts from my past and the ridiculous beliefs of some of the people I had known were stirring me up instead. I pulled slightly away from Wynn and was about to expound further on the subject.

  "Women are quite capable-" I began but was interrupted.

  "Hey, take it easy, Mrs. Delaney. You don't need to convince me. I believe you. I watched you in the teacherage, remember; and I'm sure that you, as a single woman, could handle anything. But I'm glad you didn't decide you must prove your point for an entire lifetime. You might not need a man-but I need you. That's why women marry, Elizabeth-to give their inner strength to some weak man."

  His face was serious, but I knew there was a certain amount of teasing there, too. I slumped back against him and let the intensity die quickly from my eyes.

  Wynn reached over and lifted my chin, tipping my face slightly so he could look into my eyes.

  "Your inner strength-and your outer beauty, Elizabeth-I need both."

  I wanted to lean over and kiss him, but my upbringing forbade it. Instead, I looked back at him with my love in my eyes and then leaned against him, my body finally relaxed enough to comfortably fit the seat. After a few moments of silence, I took up Wynn's little game.

  "What will you remember about today, Wynn?"

  There was no hesitation. "The look on your face when we said our vows. The way your eyes said that you meant every word of them."

  "I did," I whispered. "I do."

  "The dimple in your cheek when you smiled at me."

  Self-consciously, I put a hand up to my cheek.

  "The way your hair glistened when the sun came through the window."

  I waited for more.

  "The softness of your hand when I held it." He caressed the hand now, looking down at it as he did so.

  "The beautiful color of your eyes, so deep and glowing."

  I looked at him teasingly and added one for him. `And my `silk' dress."

  He laughed. We were both completely relaxed now. The long, beautiful, tiring, tense day was over. Our wedding had been lovely, but it now was in the past. Our whole future lay before us. Our marriage. I think that at that moment, as never before, I determined in my heart to make my marriage a thing even more beautiful than my wedding had been.

  Perhaps Wynn felt it too, for he whispered softly against my hair, "This is just the beginning, Elizabeth. We have today as a memory, but we have all of the tomorrows as exciting possibilities. We can shape them with hands of love to fulfill our fondest dreams. I wasnt much for marrying either, Elizabeth, but I am so glad you came into my life to change my mind. I've never been happier-and with God's help, I plan to make you happy, too."

  SEVEN

  ✓~anf

  Banff was beautiful. There are no words to adequately describe the beauty of those mountains. I wanted to look and look at them-to carry them always in my heart.

  The next morning we arose to another glorious day of sunshine. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in the hotel's terraced dining room and watched the sun turn the valley rose and gold as its fingers reached into the depths. After some inquiring, Wynn discovered a church, and we took hotel transportation into the sleepy little town of Banff to attend the morning services. Afterward, we found an inconspicuous little cafe where we enjoyed our lunch of mountain trout and then spent a lazy afternoon walking through the town, enjoying the sights and feel of the mountains and the enjoyable companionship of one another.

  "Tell me about Banff," I said rather dreamily as we walked along in the sunshine.

  "As far as the white man is concerned, this is a very young town," responded Wynn. "Of course, the Indian people have known the area for many years. Explorers came through the area first. They came and went and didn't pay too much attention, except to admire the beauty, until in the 1880s when the railroad arrived and the small town of Banff was born."

  "And people loved it and just couldn't stay away," I ventured.

  "Well, what really brought the visitors was the discovery of the mineral hot springs in 1883. And then, those who knew people and knew investment built and opened the Banff Springs Hotel to care for the trade. The hotel was billed as `The Finest on the North American Continent' and was visited by tourists from all over the world."

  `And here I get to spend my honeymoon in this famous hotel," I interrupted, excited by the thought.

  "People have always been fascinated with mountains; and all the unclimbed, unconquered, and uncharted mountains have brought many climbers to see if they could be the first ones to the summits. They brought in experienced Swiss guides to help attract mountaineers, and the area was soon famous."

  "I think it's still rather-" I paused for the right word. "Rustic," I finally decided.

  Wynn smiled at my choice. "Yes," he agreed. "I guess that's part of its charm. The ruggedness, the trail guides, the fur traders-they all mingle on the streets with the wealthy from around the world. While we've walked, have you noticed all the different languages around us?"

  I had noticed. It was rather exhilarating, like being in a foreign country.

  I sighed deeply. "There are so many things I would like to see that I don't know where to begin," I told Wynn. "We have such a short time."

  "We'll plan carefully," he assured me. "Right now, let's start with some place to eat."

  As we ate our evening meal in the luxurious hotel restaurant, I heard the people at the table next to ours discussing a hike they had taken that day and the sights they had seen.

  "Could we?-" I asked Wynn. "Could we go? Please? I would so love to really see the mountains, not just the town."

  "Why not?" Wynn smiled. "It's a bit of a climb, but I'm sure we could do it. It will be very exhausting, especially at these heights, but worth it."

  "When?"

  "Let's do it tomorrow."

  I clapped like an eager child, then quickly checked myself; it was too undignified for a married woman.

  For the rest of the meal, we discussed our plans for the next morning. I planned to be up bright and early so we would get a good start.

  When we went back to our room, Wynn said he had a few arrangements to make. He had mentioned having the kitchen prepare us a lunch to be taken along on the trail, so I nodded and set about looki
ng over my long skirts to decide what I would be able to wear the next day. In spite of the rigors of the trail, I did want to look good for Wynn. No man wants a plain or shabby bride. I found a skirt I thought would do. It was stylish enough to be becoming but not too full to inhibit my walking. Then I selected my shoes. None of them were really made for a long hike, but I did have one pair with me that wasn't too uncomfortable or flimsy.

  After I had made my selections, I ran a nice warm bath, humming to myself. I would take a leisurely bath while Wynn was gone. My thoughts were filled with anticipation for the coming day and the glorious climb we would have together. I prayed for good weather. I wanted to look out from some lofty peak at the beautiful, tree-covered valleys beneath me.

  I soon heard Wynn return and stir about our room. I hurried then. I remembered I had left my clothes for the hike spread out on the room's most comfortable chair, the one Wynn might be wishing to use. Wrapped snuggly in my new white robe, I hurried out, intending to move the skirt and other articles of clothing. They were gone. Wynn now occupied the chair. One glance told me that Wynn had hung the clothing carefully back in the closet.

  "Oh, thank you," I managed, but I was a bit embarrassed that he might think I was messy and careless. "I wasn't planning to leave it there," I hastened to explain. "I was just trying to smooth out some of the wrinkles for tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow?" He looked questioningly at me. "I'm afraid by the time we have our hike tomorrow, there won't be time for anything else."

  "That's what I mean. For the hike."

  Wynn looked surprised.

  "That outfit-for the hike?"

  I was a bit taken aback, but stammered, "It's all I brought that was suitable, really. I thought the other dresses too fancy to be walking in."

  "You're right. So is that one," he said, with a nod toward the skirt still visible through the open closet door.

  "But it's all I've got," I argued.

  "I got you something." Wynn sounded quite confident.

 

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