Love Finds You in Bridal Veil, Oregon

by Miralee Ferrell

  Grant heaved a sigh. “Donnie’s a good lad, but he’s not always too bright. I had me a talk with him and explained you and Missy looked to be workin’ out an agreement. He admitted he was a mite jealous and that’s why he tried to stir things up. He was hopin’ he’d get Margaret to forget about you and choose him.”

  Margaret sighed. “Poor Donnie. Do you think he’ll be all right now? I’d hate to think he’d try to cause any more trouble for me, or for the children.”

  Grant shook his head. “He won’t if he wants to keep his job. I think he’s settled down now. He’s not workin’ today, and I think he might be sparkin’ Sally Mae Kent.” He turned to look at Samantha and Joel. “Those are good kids you got there, Margaret. They goin’ to start school next week? I’m guessin’—”

  His words were disrupted by the rumble of a train entering town and the piercing shriek of its whistle.

  The afternoon train was the only one that occasionally towed along a passenger car and typically created interest in town whenever it approached. The three adults walked to the open door and the window beside it, peering outside at the nearby depot where the train slowed. Sure enough, Margaret noticed a passenger car trailing along near the end, just before the caboose. “I wonder if it’s bringing visitors.”

  Whispers of fear tickled her mind. What if Wallace Stedman’s mother made good on her son’s threat to return with papers claiming the children? Why was it so hard to trust God where Samantha and Joel were concerned? She’d almost worked through her feelings concerning her father and was putting those issues to rest. Now, if only she could give her fear over the children to God, as well.

  They stepped outside onto the porch, leaving Samantha and Joel still hunkered over the pickle barrel. The churning wheels of the steam engine drew to a halt, and the conductor leapt down from the caboose and trotted toward the passenger car. He pulled down a set of steps and waited.

  The door opened, and a woman appeared. She stood without moving, staring at the small depot, then allowed her gaze to travel to the front porch of the store. Her white blouse looked dingy and worn, and her hair was askew. Margaret watched as she stared at the conductor’s extended hand, then turned up her nose and stepped down without his assistance.

  The woman took a quick step, then paused and looked back at the car, her strident voice carrying across the open space. “You comin’, Sheriff? I won’t put up with any guff from the people in this town. Them kids belong to me, and I aim to take ’em home. That’s my right under the law.” She waved a paper in the air and lifted her voice, glaring toward the store. “I got the proof with me, and ain’t nobody sendin’ me packin’ the way they did my son.”

  Sheriff Bryant climbed down from the car and stopped beside the irate woman. “Now calm yourself, Mrs. Stedman. There’s no need to get worked up over something that hasn’t happened.” The sheriff offered her his arm, but she huffed and turned away.

  “I ain’t no softy needin’ to lean on a man.” She jerked her head toward the store. “That redhead looks like the gal my son described.” She raised her voice again. “You got my charges here?”

  Margaret gaped at the woman’s outrageous behavior. Did she have no manners at all? But what had she expected, after meeting the son? This woman could not be allowed to take Samantha and Joel back to her home. Obviously, she’d not be a fit guardian for a donkey. She turned to Andrew and gripped his arm. “What can we do? We can’t let her take them!”

  Andrew frowned at the woman stalking toward the store. “I’m not sure we can do anything. If she has legal papers, the sheriff will back her claim.” He turned tortured eyes on Margaret. “I hate this, but short of knocking her out cold, hog-tying her, and putting her back on the train, I don’t see what we can do.”

  Grant Cowling moved to the edge of the porch and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Andrew. “That sounds like a right fine idea. If the sheriff weren’t here, I’d help you ship her back where she came from.”

  Margaret peered over her shoulder and exhaled in relief. Grant had closed the door behind him, and she didn’t see any eyes peeking out the window. She shot up a prayer for help. An instant later, confident peace washed over her spirit, and she lifted her chin. God loved those children even more than she did, and that was a lot. He’d find a way to save them. “God’s got a plan.” She whispered the words to Andrew, assurance putting a lilt in her voice.

  He blinked a couple of times, then smiled. “I’m glad you’re praying, as well.”

  Margaret noticed the conductor still standing at attention beside the open door and allowed her gaze to flick back there for a moment. A tall, well-dressed man wearing a dark blue suit stepped to the ground and turned to hold out his hand. A petite blond woman who appeared to be in her midthirties reached out and allowed him to assist her from the car. A warm smile creased her attractive face, and the gentleman tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. Who could that be, Margaret wondered, and what would have brought a couple dressed in such fine clothes to Bridal Veil?

  A snort from Mrs. Stedman brought her attention back to where the woman had stopped at the foot of the stairs. “You the woman who’s been hidin’ my kids?” She crossed her arms across her bosom and glared.

  Margaret started to speak, but Andrew squeezed her hand and took a step forward. “Sheriff Bryant, may I have a word with you, please?”

  “I reckon that would be fine, Mr. Browning.” The sheriff removed his hat and nodded at Margaret, then turned back to Andrew. “Would you like to step over to the side for a moment?”

  Mrs. Stedman stared at the sheriff and opened her mouth, but Sheriff Bryant held up his hand. “Not now, ma’am. I’m going to have a word with this gentleman, then I’ll see to your needs.”

  He walked a short distance away, and Andrew followed. The two men put their heads close together and talked for a couple of minutes, then Andrew drew back with a frown.

  Margaret couldn’t help but overhear as the sheriff said, “I’m sorry, Browning. There’s nothing I can do.” He turned away and trudged back to the woman standing nearby, tapping her booted toe in the dust.

  “Miss Garvey?” The sheriff turned a troubled gaze her way. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but could you please bring the children outside?” He took off his hat and ran his hand over his hair.

  “Do I have to, Sheriff?” Margaret gripped a post that held up one corner of the roof.

  “I’m afraid so. I hate this part of my job, ma’am, but I don’t have much choice. This woman brought the papers from the orphanage that proves her guardianship.”

  Margaret drew in a quick breath. “You mean she hasn’t adopted them?”

  “No. Not yet, but I understand she intends to as soon as she returns, to strengthen her claim.” He put his hat back on his head. “Are they in the store?”

  Margaret’s shoulders slumped, and she felt the energy drain from her. Please, God, do something. Please don’t let Samantha and Joel be dragged off by this hideous woman.

  A movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention. The neatly dressed man and his female companion had stopped a yard or two to the side and behind Mrs. Stedman, curious expressions on their faces. Did they want to enter the store, but felt impeded by the activity outside? It didn’t matter now, Margaret thought. Nothing mattered but saving Samantha and Joel.

  “Miss Garvey, please bring out the children.” Sheriff Bryant’s tone grew firmer with his last words.

  Margaret could feel the tension in both Andrew and Grant as they stared at the offensive woman standing at the bottom of the steps.

  “Yeah. Hurry it up, too, will ya?” Mrs. Stedman’s strident voice grated on Margaret’s nerves, and she turned and hurried inside the store.

  Samantha and Joel were nowhere to be seen. Margaret stood for a moment, praying they’d found a way to escape. This was one time she’d not help in hunting for them. She took a step forward and peered down the aisle laden with lanterns, pots and pans, and various househ
old goods. “Samantha? Joel?”

  No whisper or sound met her ears, but she waited, not sure how to pray. If only that evil woman would disappear—just get on the train and go back to wherever she’d crawled out from. No child should have to live with such a creature.

  “Samantha? Honey, I need to talk to you. Will you come out, please?”

  What could she say to the girl that would make it better? It was obvious she’d seen Mrs. Stedman out of the window and was probably trembling in some dark corner trying to protect her brother. Tears welled in Margaret’s eyes—tears of rage and frustration, as well as fear and pain. She wouldn’t let them go without a fight.

  A rustling at the far end of the aisle drew her attention. Margaret walked quickly to the empty space where the shelving ended and the light barely penetrated. She allowed her eyes to adjust for a moment, then peered into the shadows. “Samantha.”

  A small cry tore from the girl’s throat and was almost Margaret’s undoing. She held out her arms, and Samantha rushed into them, sobbing against her blouse. Tears spotted the front of the pale blue material, but Margaret didn’t care. She smoothed back the hair from Samantha’s forehead, too choked to speak. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Joel? Come on out, honey.”

  The boy stepped forward, and she saw genuine fear in his eyes. “Don’t want to go back to live with that old woman, Miss Margaret. Please don’t make us.”

  Margaret’s hands started to tremble, and she feared she’d be sick to her stomach. The bell on the front door tinkled as someone pushed it open. Andrew appeared at the end of the aisle, silhouetted against the sun coming through a nearby window. “Margaret? Are you all right?” He didn’t wait for a reply but strode to the back of the store.

  Joel gave a yelp and launched himself into Andrew’s arms, nearly knocking them both to the ground. Andrew staggered backward but retained his footing and wrapped his arms around the boy. “Shh, it’s going to be all right. God’s going to bring good out of this somehow, you’ll see.”

  He reached an arm out toward Margaret and she rushed forward, bringing Samantha along with her. The four of them wrapped each other in a long embrace, then turned toward the door.

  “Do we have to go outside, Miss Margaret?” Sammie’s words were choked and breathless.

  Margaret stared mutely at Andrew. He nodded once and tried to smile. “Yes, I’m afraid we have to, Samantha. But Miss Margaret and I will be right beside you.” He kept one arm around Joel and held out the other to Samantha, and she scrambled to fit herself close to his heart.

  All four went to the front door, holding tight to each other until they walked over the threshold. Margaret lifted her chin and went out first, leaving Andrew to follow with Samantha and Joel. She met Mrs. Stedman’s gaze with a firm one of her own.

  The two children burrowed their faces in Andrew’s shirt and didn’t budge. He kept his arms around their shoulders and turned his face toward the sheriff.

  Mrs. Stedman gave a loud grunt and held out her hand. “All right, you two. Git yerself down here.” Neither child moved. “Sammie! Joel! I said, git down here this instant, or you’ll wish you had.”

  The children’s heads lifted, and Margaret saw fear shining from both faces.

  Just then the woman who’d arrived on the same train took a step forward and gasped. “Samantha? Joel? Is that you?” She took another step, then stumbled and almost fell.

  The man at her side gripped her arm with one hand and slipped his other arm around her waist. “Come on now, Lydia, it’s all right.”

  “Mama?” Samantha’s whisper barely reached Margaret’s ears. “Mama!” The shriek tore from her throat, and the girl flew down the steps and into the woman’s arms.

  Joel stood for a second, staring at the two huddled together, both sobbing and talking at the same time. Suddenly the boy reared back his head and let out a full-throated whoop. “Mama’s come back to life! Mama’s come back to life! God raised her just like He did with Jesus!” He bounded from the porch and would have launched himself at the sobbing woman, had the man not stepped in his way.

  Gentle hands landed on the boy’s shoulders. “Whoa there, son. You don’t want to hurt your mother now, do you? Just take it slow, so you don’t knock her over.”

  Lydia McGavin wiped her eyes and turned a radiant smile on the waiting boy. “Joel!” She held out her arms and the boy glanced at the man, then stepped into her embrace, leaning over her small form to lay his head on her shoulder. “Mama. Oh, Mama. I missed you so much.”

  The cluster of people witnessing the scene suddenly came to life. Mrs. Stedman screeched, and Sheriff Bryant rushed to her side, grasping her arm when she raised it to strike Joel on the back. “No, ma’am, you won’t touch that boy.” He hauled the woman backward and placed his arm in front of her.

  Mrs. Stedman waved her papers in the air. “I got my rights. Them kids belong to me!” She started to move forward again, but Andrew leapt off the porch and grasped her other arm.

  Margaret came out of the stupor she’d been mired in and raced down the stairs. She slowed her pace as she approached the small family huddled nearby and addressed the petite woman. “You’re Samantha and Joel’s mother?”

  Lydia McGavin raised shining, tear-filled eyes. “That I am. Lydia Miles is my name now.” Both of her hands were gripped by that of her children, so she simply nodded.

  “But how—why—the children thought—” Margaret stumbled over her words, confusion continuing to blanket her thoughts.

  “That I was dead. And I nearly was, for a time.” She turned toward the man standing silently nearby and smiled. “My husband was killed in the buggy wreck, and I was taken to the hospital, presumed all but dead. This wonderful man was my doctor, and he worked for months to keep me alive.” Her smile widened and her tears of joy spilled over. “Dr. Miles is now my husband, and he’s been helping me hunt for the children ever since I came out of my coma.”

  Mrs. Stedman quit struggling, and her mouth fell open. “You was in a coma? That’s why you never claimed these brats?” Her chin quivered. “You abandoned ’em, and I took ’em in, so they’re still rightfully mine.” A hard jerk released her arm from Andrew’s grasp. “’Course, I can always get me more kids from the orphanage, but I got Sammie trained real good, and I want her back. You kin keep the boy.”

  Sheriff Bryant moved a little closer. “I’ll be speaking to the folks at the orphanage, Mrs. Stedman, and advising them against putting any more children into your care. I’d suggest you get on the train and head home. Your business here is finished.”

  She glared at each person in turn, then snorted. “I ain’t givin’ up so easy. You say you’re their ma, but I fed and cared for ’em for two years. I want that girl, or I want my money back, and I aim to fight for it. You ain’t heard the last of me.” A flounce of her skirt marked her exodus as she stormed her way back to the waiting car.

  Dr. Miles took a stride toward the woman, and Lydia gripped his arm, tugging him toward her. “Let her go, dear.”

  He turned, a worried look furrowing his face. “I don’t want that woman causing trouble; you’ve been through enough already.”

  “We’ll deal with whatever comes, just as we’ve done for the past two years. God will see us through. Besides, it sounds as though money is her main concern.”

  Her husband relaxed from his tense stance and shrugged one shoulder. “All right. I’ll get in touch with our county authorities and see what can be done.”

  Samantha looked up into her mother’s face. “I can’t believe you’re here. All this time, we thought you’d died.” Samantha’s smile illuminated her face as she turned toward Margaret and Andrew. “Miss Margaret saved us, Mama. She and God kept us safe after we ran way from Mrs. Stedman.” A shudder shook the young girl’s slender frame.

  Joel nodded fast and hard. “Buck and Mr. Art saved us too, and Mr. Andrew, when we ran away and hid.”

  Lydia stroked the girl’s hair and leaned over to kiss
her cheek, then patted Joel’s arm. “I’m sorry, dear ones—so very sorry for what you’ve both been through. I was in the hospital for a long time, and then they moved me to a sanatorium for several more months. By the time I was released, you and Joel were gone, and the orphanage had changed hands. The new people running it claimed they had no records about an adoption. If it hadn’t been for Matthew coming to my rescue and helping me search, I doubt I’d have found you.” She turned to him and smiled. “He made people listen when they wouldn’t answer my questions.”

  She reached out a hand toward Margaret. “Thank you,” she whispered, then lifted her voice as new strength seemed to flow into her. “Thank you so very much for all you’ve done for my babies.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  Margaret shook her head and wiped moisture from the corner of her eye. “They’re wonderful children, and I was blessed that God allowed me to help them. But how did you find them, tucked back here in Bridal Veil?”

  Matthew Miles smiled and stepped forward, putting his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “We heard about a freighter from Bridal Veil named Julius, who was asking about two children named Sammie and Joel. He was in Portland a couple of days ago, talking to Charlie, the man who hauls vegetables to our local market. Charlie’s a likable man and loves to talk, but he didn’t know Julius, so he kept what he knew to himself and came to us. We took the first train bringing passengers this way, praying we’d find Samantha and Joel here in Bridal Veil.” He beamed at his wife. “And glory be to God, here they are.”

  “Yes.” Margaret raised her eyes to the heavens. “All glory and praise be to God, for indeed He has done wonderful things.”