“There’s been an accident with the stage,” Jeremiah said as gently as he could. “We don’t have any details. Just that Corrin’s hurt and Amelia....” he looked into the somber, sickly face of the man who only weeks ago had reclaimed his daughter after nearly sixteen years of estrangement. “Amelia’s gone.”
Mr. Jackson went to Paul and the two hugged dearly.
“I have to go to Glenwood Springs for Corrin---and for me. I have to see her . . .” Paul said.
“I think you should go to a neighbor’s house until we return, Mr. Jackson. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” Jeremiah offered to take him somewhere, but he refused and said he’ll be fine where he was.
Paul and Jeremiah then left town.
› › ›
Mr. Conner searched for either of the two men immediately upon arrival of the second telegraph message, but not knowing they had been at Paul’s house, assumed they had already left for Glenwood Springs. He considered going after them, but he wasn’t the horseman they were and was positive he could never catch up with them. Finally, he simply reasoned that they would reach their destination in about four hours anyway and would discover the truth then, so he went about his business.
› › ›
Paul and Jeremiah arrived at the Glenwood Springs Sheriff’s office around five-thirty that evening. They hitched their horses to the post and dispiritedly walked inside.
“Sheriff, I’m Jeremiah Cowan and this is Paul Strupel. We’re from Glory Gulch. We’re here about the stagecoach accident.”
The sheriff looked at the two with interest. “I suppose you’re pretty mad about the mix-up. I don’t blame you one bit. Just a case of bad communication is all. I’ve known Benjamin Walters a long time. He was only acting on the information he had. I really wish you two wouldn’t stir up any trouble.”
“Sheriff, we don’t know what you’re talking about. I got a telegram.” Paul produced the terrible piece of paper. “It says my fiancé was a fatality of that accident. We’d like to know more about how this happened and we’d like to . . .” He swallowed hard. “View the body.”
“You mean you didn’t get the second telegram?”
“No, sir. Just this one,” Jeremiah said, wondering if the Sheriff was sober.
“I’m very sorry about all of this. You see, there was a lot of miscommunication at the site of the wreckage and a misinformed news reporter---the fellow I mentioned---sent you that first telegram. When they discovered the error they sent another one to you as fast as they could, probably no more than forty-five or fifty minutes apart.”
“Miscommunication? Errors?” Jeremiah shook his head. The day had been arduous enough without this man adding to it. “Sheriff, I’m not in any frame of mind to try to figure out what you’re talking about. We just came in here to find out where we need to go to settle matters with our loved ones.”
“Sir, I’m sorry. I can see you’re grieved over the news you received. Let me begin again. What I was trying to tell you is that there was a third young lady on the stagecoach this morning. Somehow things got mixed up, but she’s actually the one who died.” The Sheriff fumbled around his desk for something and then located a piece of paper.
Jeremiah glanced at Paul, still not comprehending what he was talking about.
“Yes, here it is. Miss Melissa Perser is the young lady who died. Miss Corrin Dannon was pinned under the stage and is now at the clinic under a Doctor’s care, and Miss Amelia Jackson was thrown before the stage went over the embankment and only suffers from a bruised hip.”
“You mean, Amelia’s . . . alive?” Paul swallowed hard and then grabbed Jeremiah’s shoulders and slowly let the words register in his mind and roll off his tongue like a soothing balm. “Jeremiah, Amelia is alive! Yahoo!” The big lumber men did a quick dance around a chair. Then Paul grabbed the Sheriff’s hand and shook it furiously.
“Thank you, Sheriff. Thank you very much. How do we find that clinic?”
“It’s down the street to your left. Turn right at the first street, and then go down two blocks and make another right. It’s on the corner.” He was practically shouting the last sentence for the men were already out the door and mounting their horses.
› › ›
“May I help you?” the nurse at the front desk inquired of the two men who had hurriedly entered and walked up to the wooden desk.
“We’d like to see Miss Corrin Dannon and Miss Amelia Jackson,” Jeremiah said. “I believe they were brought in this morning after the stagecoach accident.”
“Oh, yes. The doctor said Miss Dannon may receive visitors, but don’t stay too long. She’s in room 105. That’s five doors down the hall on your left.”
“What about Miss Jackson? Where is she?” Paul searched the nurse’s eyes for the answer.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see a Miss Jackson registered here.”
“Amelia Jackson. She was in the stagecoach accident with Miss Dannon.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jeremiah grabbed Paul by the arm and pulled him down the hall. “Thank you,” he called to the nurse. Then he said to his friend, “Corrin will know where she is.”
“Thank you!” Paul also called over his shoulder.
They arrived at the room just as a nurse was leaving.
“Please, don’t stay too long. Miss Dannon needs much rest.”
“How is she?” Jeremiah asked.
“The doctor says she’ll be fine.”
They nodded and entered the room.
Corrin reached her arms out to them. One at a time, they hugged her and told her they were glad she would be all right. She grabbed Paul’s hand and cried.
“I’m so sorry about the telegram. They told me she didn’t make it. I didn’t know what to do. But later when I came to my senses, there she was right here in this room!”
“Shh. It’s all right.” Paul leaned over and stroked her hair. “We saw the sheriff and he told us about the mix-up. Where is she?”
“I’m right here, Sweetheart,” Amelia said as she entered the room behind them.
Paul rushed to her and embraced her, first kissing her hair, then her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. He let her presence fill his soul in a loving embrace as he stroked her hair.
“Oh, Angel. I thought I had lost you today.”
“I know,” she whispered to him.
He cupped his hands around her face and looked tenderly into her pretty eyes, knowing she couldn’t see him, but coming to know that she saw into his very soul.
“I’m never going to let you out of my sight again.” They kissed each other passionately as Corrin grinned happily and Jeremiah fidgeted with some odds and ends that were on the table beside the bed.
Paul remembered the treasure he had placed in his pocket near his heart earlier that morning. He retrieved the hair ribbon and placed it in her hand. “I missed you so much, and whenever my heart ached to be with you I would touch that ribbon, and somehow I felt you near me.”
“Oh, Paul. I don’t think you could ever know how much I love you.” She kissed him.
“Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a hug left for an old friend, would you?” Jeremiah said as if to break up the intensity of the reunion.
“Jeremiah? Of course. Come over here.” She gave him a fond bear hug. “I should have known you would come too. Thank you for taking care of my Paul for me. You’re the best friend anyone could ever have.”
Before he let her go, he kissed her on the head and looked impishly toward Paul. “Hey, you heard her, I’m her best friend. And after all, I’m relieved she’s alive too.”
The three left the clinic to check into a hotel and get something to eat. The men had missed lunch and were now ravenous.
Paul noticed a tremendous difference in Amelia’s strides as she attempted to maneuver without her cane. She lacked confidence without it. He didn’t like her having to grope around a room with her hands out in front of her as she searched for objects and still bumpe
d into shorter pieces of furniture. Even with her arm tucked safely under his, she often flung her free arm out in front of her as if she thought he would bang her into a wall or a person or something. He made a mental note to have another one made for her immediately when they arrived back in Glory Gulch.
The group decided over dinner that Paul would remain with the ladies in Glenwood Springs, since Amelia refused to leave without her aunt and Paul refused to leave Amelia. Jeremiah would head back to Glory Gulch in the morning, first sending a telegram to advise Alister Jackson of the mix-up, and then he would stop by and explain to him personally in further detail what had transpired.
Amelia lingered in Paul’s arms at the door to her room that night. H stroked her hair and kissed her head, wishing to remain in her embrace forever.
“Soon, my fair Angel, we’ll never have to separate like this again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The day of the wedding arrived with a flurry of snowflakes dancing and twirling outside the icy window pane of Amelia’s cozy room and with a flutter of emotions inside the Silver Slipper Saloon.
The events of the last year were continually toppling out of her mind, reminding her of the old life she left behind and the new one she found here at Glory Gulch. Her mind was filled with her mother, her aunt, her father, Paul.
She had been resistant of her aunt long before her arrival, but she had now grown to love and appreciate Corrin Dannon, and she wished she didn’t have to leave just yet. Even though her marriage wouldn’t prevent them from visiting with each other, she knew that it would never be the same, and she missed her already.
Surprisingly, she would miss this room over the Saloon. Four months ago, she wouldn’t have dreamed that she would be longing to stay there just a little longer. This was her home and she would miss the familiarity of her own room and the inviting warmth of Corrin’s parlor where she spent countless hours reading or talking with her aunt or entertaining guests.
Then there was the kitchen with its gushing water pump, it’s seemingly endless bowls of fresh fruits and vegetables and a myriad of fond conversations around the table. The kitchen was where she first met Paul. Her emotions were definitely not jumbled when it came to her deep and ardent love for him. She desired to spend the rest of her days as his wife, to never again be left alone in an isolated room, a solitary figure with secret blazing passions for him burning in her heart into the deep recesses of the night. She longed to hold him and to be lost in his embrace, with his muscular arms forever surrounding her in an envelope of his love and devotion to her.
“Sweetie, aren’t you ready yet? Here, let me help you.” Corrin was undaunted by the crutches she had to use since the accident. She still managed to get around the Saloon with some degree of ease, poise and dignity. After all, Corrin Dannon was always a lady.
She slipped Amelia’s gown over her head and carefully guided her arms into the sleeves, and then fastened the long row of buttons up the back of the dress.
Paul liked her hair down with just enough of it pulled back so as not to obstruct her ‘Angel face’. So Corrin combed her niece’s hair again for the third time and pulled it back with ivory combs on the sides, leaving the rest to spill freely down the length of her back.
She fastened the lace veil on top of Amelia’s head with hatpins and drew the front lace away from Amelia’s face. Corrin backed away to scrutinize her niece, wanting to make sure nothing was forgotten and that everything was flawless. After fussing with the hem, a sleeve, the veil, she stood back again for another overall look at the bride.
“Well, Aunt Corrin. How do I look?”
“Oh, Sweetie,” she gushed. “Paul is right. He is marrying an angel.” She embraced her. “I’m so proud of you, my darling daughter.”
“Aunt Corrin, I want to say so much to you, to thank you for opening your home and your heart to me, for your love, for being a mother to me when I needed one the most.”
“Oh, Honey. It’s I who have so much to be thankful for. You’ve completely changed my life, you know. You’ve taught this old, hard-hearted woman how to love again. You’ve been my joy and have made me so happy.” Corrin pulled back, brushed away Amelia’s tears as well as her own, smiled, and announced, “It’s time to go, Sweetie. We’re already late.”
› › ›
Paul’s fingers got tangled up in his tie. He had done this a thousand times before, but for some reason, today, when he wanted everything to be so perfect, the tie just wouldn’t cooperate. Maybe choosing to get ready in the pastor’s office wasn’t such a good idea, he thought. The lighting wasn’t as good here as it was in his bedroom at home.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Jeremiah turned Paul around by the shoulders, untied the unsightly bow and retied it.
“Thanks. I guess I’m just a little nervous.”
“A little nervous?” He chuckled.
Paul relaxed somewhat as he gave his best man a sarcastic look. Jeremiah stepped back to survey his handiwork and nodded his head in approval. “Looks great.”
“Are you sure?” Paul fidgeted with the tie again.
“Leave it alone. It’s fine. Maybe you should take a few deep breaths or something. You look as tense and tight as a telegraph wire.”
“Is she here yet?” Paul peeked out the door into the sanctuary for the fourth time.
Jeremiah smiled at his friend. He couldn’t remember ever seeing him like this before--- excited, nervous, restless, and fidgety. Usually Paul was so sure of himself, always confident and in control. He was quick to make up his mind and slow to change it. He admired his friend. Always had. Since spending the days of their youth together, the two lives had become interwoven like the sturdy threads on a carpet. To pull them apart would destroy what they were, useless alone. Paul was his support, his confidant, his brother. He was there when his parents died and helped him take care of Aaron and helped him get his logging business started and saw it grow. There could never be a greater friend to him than Paul Strupel. He watched Paul pick up a book from the pastor’s desk and replace it, then walk over to a portrait and gaze at it, not really seeing the face in the picture. Then he returned to peer out the door into the church, and then checked his watch for the hundredth time. Jeremiah thought the groom looked very handsome in his gray trousers and black morning coat. He wished Amelia could actually see the fine man she was going to marry. But then again, she probably saw him more clearly than anyone with sight.
“It’s late. Why isn’t she here?” Paul fussed with his tie again. “What if something happened? Maybe she slipped on the ice. What if she changed her mind?”
“What if you just sit down and stop making me crazy. She’s coming. I think women are just born with this annoying habit of always being late. Relax. She’ll be here any time now.”
He watched Paul try to make himself comfortable in the Pastor’s wooden desk chair, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. He sat back and allowed his arms to relax on the armrests of the chair. Then he shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees, wringing his hands.
Jeremiah thought that underneath that fidgeting, restless man was someone he could look up to. He had seen his friend go through many transitions in his lifetime, but the last one seemed to be the most difficult of all for him to understand. He saw Paul’s countenance change this past year since he found faith in God. But it was more than a mere belief in God, for Jeremiah himself believed the existence of a god. He almost felt his presence on a clear summer’s day up on the tall mountains.
No, what Paul and Amelia had was different. They seemed to actually know God. And their lives reflected the sincerity of their convictions. Jeremiah decided that what they had was real. He respected them and even envied them. They were so happy. It was as if their faith in God made them more complete human beings. Through their steadfastness in the face of many dangers and hardships, he had become acutely aware of his own inadequacies to cope with some of life’s most difficult problems. And he also b
ecame aware of the emptiness in his heart. Even though he had lived a basically good life, he knew he wasn’t perfect. He knew he was a sinner and didn’t deserve to be in the same room with his two wonderful, Christian friends. Paul and he had basically lived the same life, yet his friend was free of bitterness and anger. He had no emptiness inside, despite the harshness of the trials that befell him this past year.
This time it was Jeremiah who peeked out the door. The church was full of happy, talking guests, donning their best wedding attire. He didn’t see or any sign of Amelia or Corrin. The ceremony should have started ten minutes ago. The Pastor was heading toward the study.
“Well, men. We can get started as soon as the bride arrives.”
Jeremiah rolled his eyes. The Pastor’s comment was certainly not going to help the nervous groom.
“Have you heard anything from them yet?” Paul asked the Pastor. “Is there something preventing them from coming?”
“I’ll tell you what, Paul. Why don’t I send a messenger over to the Saloon to check on the bride’s progress?”
“That’s a great idea. In fact, why don’t I go?” Paul was about to head out the back door when Jeremiah grabbed his arm.
“Oh, no you don’t! You’re not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony. Bad luck, or something like that. Anyway, you’ll get your shoes wet. It took me all afternoon to get you into shape for this wedding and you’re not going to ruin my handiwork now.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll have a bridal report to you in no time.” The Pastor headed out the door into the church.
› › ›
Jeremiah had arranged for a covered sleigh to first direct the bride to the church and back for the reception, and then to escort the newlywed couple to Paul’s house to begin their honeymoon. Corrin looked out the window of Amelia’s room.
“The carriage is waiting for us.”
She took hold of her niece’s arm and began to lead her out the door, but Amelia stopped walking.
“What is it, Honey. Are you feeling all right?” Corrin was only mildly concerned, for she had witnessed many brides getting cold feet right before their weddings. She knew it always passed.
Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) Page 22