Placing a pot of coffee over the fire, she was heartened when two old miners came wandering in to sit by the hearth and play a game of checkers. They were familiar faces, men who now spent more time in town than they did mining. Maura had learned that when their funds ran low, they’d go back into the hills until they’d accumulated enough gold dust to keep them going a while longer.
They drank steaming coffee from large tin mugs and talked with each other, commenting from time to time on the weather and shaking their heads in obvious disgust.
“Luther say when he’d be back?” one of them asked as they were preparing to leave the store.
“He didn’t say exactly,” she replied honestly.
“Did he take the wagons?” the other inquired.
“No, he didn’t go for supplies,” she answered.
“How ’bout I go out there and take care of the animals for ya? Was he planning on you doing that, or did he make other arrangements?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied, having given no thought to the horses that probably should have been tended earlier in the day.
“Don’t you worry, missus. We’ll take care of ’em while he’s gone. Luther’s done plenty for us in the past, so it’s the least we can do.”
“I sure do thank you,” Maura answered.
“Thank you, Lord, for once again providing me with assistance,” she whispered as the men left the store.
Michael reappeared shortly after four o’clock and escorted her back to the house. The savory aroma of beef stew and cornbread, together with the warmth from the kitchen, greeted them as they opened the back door.
“Why’d you come clear around back?” Marie inquired as the couple entered.
“I convinced Michael to come around here so that we wouldn’t track all this mess into the front,” Maura replied, attempting to stomp the snow from her shoes while shaking her skirt.
“You shouldn’t have been concerned about that,” Georgette told them as she entered the kitchen. “I’ve spent a good part of the day wiping up the mess created by this snowstorm.”
“Well, I hope that we’ve saved you a little work,” Maura said, giving her friend a hug.
“I’m glad you’re back here. If this snow keeps up, I’m not going to hear of you going back to that store tomorrow,” Georgette warned. “Michael agrees with me, don’t you, Michael?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t think it would be wise,” he cautiously agreed.
“Let’s wait until tomorrow before we make any decisions,” Maura suggested. “What needs to be done toward finishing dinner?” she asked, intentionally changing the subject.
“Everything’s ready, but I’m not expecting much of a crowd tonight,” Marie said. “I didn’t prepare near as much as we normally do. Hope I didn’t misjudge folks.”
“We’ll find something to serve them if we run out of stew, Marie. Folks are more likely to come and eat when they have to be out and about early in the day. Once they get home, they’re probably going to stay put,” Maura agreed.
The next morning the snow had stopped, but the winds continued gusting, causing large drifts to form in their wake. Maura peeked out the parlor window and was greeted by dazzling snowdrifts along the front of the house that completely covered the lower half of the windows.
We’re really snowed in, she thought, sure that they couldn’t possibly open the front door without being prepared to tunnel through the five-foot-high drifts. Marie walked into the parlor and positioned herself alongside Maura.
“Guess we won’t have to cook for anybody except ourselves today, will we?” Marie asked, giving Maura a pensive look. “He’s going to be just fine,” she reassured Maura. “I just feel it in my soul.”
“Thank you, Marie,” Maura said, giving her a hug. “I think I’d like a cup of coffee,” she said, deliberately changing the subject. She didn’t want to think about where Luther might be. If she did, she was afraid where those thoughts might lead her.
During the weeks that followed, the snow and winds finally abated. Through the combined efforts of the townspeople, they had finally dug themselves out. Although the weather remained frigid and the sun couldn’t seem to emit enough heat to melt the snow, life returned to a semblance of normality. But still no word was received from Luther, and the few new folks who came to town had seen or heard nothing of the man whom Maura doggedly described to them.
❧
“I don’t know what you can be thinking, Maura. You’re only going to cause yourself further distress and heartache. Please tell me that you’ll cease this nonsense immediately,” Georgette chided her friend.
“You’d just as well stop badgering me, Georgette. I’ve made up my mind,” Maura asserted staunchly.
“This is utter foolishness!”
“You need not take part if that’s the way you feel. Just stay here and carry out your chores as usual. I’ll not hold it against you,” Maura said as she placed an iron kettle filled with water over the fire to heat.
“Do you really believe that he’s going to magically appear just because it’s January twenty-ninth?” Georgette asked impatiently.
“We set January twenty-ninth as our wedding day and I’m going to be there—on time—for the wedding,” Maura replied stubbornly.
Maura noted the look exchanged by Marie and Georgette, although she was sure that it wasn’t intended for her eyes. They think I’m crazy, she thought, but I know this is what I’m supposed to do.
Against Georgette’s wishes, a notice had been placed on the front door of the restaurant for the last three days stating that they would be closed for business today. The two of them had argued about the circumstances: Georgette did not want her friend to be disappointed or embarrassed when Luther failed to appear, whereas Maura was sure that the wedding would turn out as planned. Only Marie remained silent.
Once the water was heated, Marie assisted Maura in filling the tub and then left her to enjoy a warm bath, the soothing fragrance of lavender oil filling the room.
“Why don’t you try and talk some sense into her,” Georgette whispered to Marie as Georgette exited the kitchen and entered the hallway.
“No, I don’t think it would be proper for me to become in-volved in this. Besides, Georgette, Maura is a grown woman. I’m sure she understands that Luther probably won’t be at the church. However, if she feels this strongly about keeping her commitment to the wedding plans, why are you so determined to stop her?”
“It’s just silly. After all, they’re already married. Why should she put herself through this added pain?”
“I’m not sure why she’s so stubborn, but I’ll certainly not be the one attempting to stop her,” Marie said firmly. “I’ve got to get upstairs. I told Maura I’d help her get dressed. Are you going to get ready or not? She’s planning on you being her attendant.”
“Oh, there won’t be any wedding. But if she’s going to get ready, I guess I will, too. Have you seen Michael this morning?” Georgette inquired.
“No. Isn’t he supposed to stand with Luther?” she asked.
“Yes,” Georgette replied, shaking her head. “I wonder if he’s going to go to the trouble of getting ready or if he has more sense than the rest of us,” she mused, following Marie up the stairway.
Maura allowed the warm water to envelop her as she slid into its depths, pushing all thoughts from her mind as she soaked in the sweet-smelling fragrance. When the water finally turned cool, she stepped out of the tub and dried herself in front of the fire. Wrapping herself in the warm quilt that Marie had left for her, she made her way upstairs to her bedroom.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful wedding dress,” Marie said as Maura walked in the room.
“Thank you, Marie. I’m quite fond of it myself and feel quite fortunate. How many brides are able to wear their wedding dresses more than once?”
“Not many, I’m sure,” Marie answered.
“I’ll be fine, Marie,” Maura confided.
“Even if Luther doesn’t make it, I’ll be fine,” she affirmed, realizing that both of her friends were worried how she would react if Luther didn’t appear.
“Georgette cares about you very much, Maura. At first I thought she was jealous you were leaving, but now I think she’s truly concerned that you’ll be deeply wounded if the wedding doesn’t take place,” Marie confided.
“I know she means well, Marie. Georgette is a dear girl whose friendship I treasure, but she must realize that I’m keeping things in proper order—God first, Luther second, and then others. I must at least try to honor my word to my husband. I hope that she’ll understand my reasons, and you need not worry—I’m not angry with her. How could I be? I know she’s merely trying to protect me,” Maura said as she stepped into the silk wedding gown.
“You look lovely,” Georgette complimented her friend as she walked into the room and once again beheld the ivory silk wedding dress. “I had forgotten just how beautiful your dress is,” she continued, softly touching the long sleeves, which were accented with the same ivory lace that surrounded the bertha.
“You’re quite a sight yourself,” Maura said, admiring the deep green silk gown that the two of them had sewn especially for this occasion. “That color is lovely with your hair and skin. You should wear it often.”
“Thank you, Maura,” Georgette said, giving her friend a broad smile.
“Let me get your shoes,” Marie offered, retrieving from the closet the low-heeled ivory shoes decorated with tiny lace bows.
“Would you like me to fashion your hair in finger curls like last time?” Georgette asked, picking up Maura’s hairbrush.
“I’d like that very much,” Maura replied, giving her friend a kiss on the cheek.
After several attempts, Georgette and Marie finally agreed that the bride’s hair passed inspection. Carefully, Georgette placed the coronet headpiece of crystal-beaded flowers and waxed orange blossoms that held the lace veil on Maura’s head.
“She has no bouquet to carry,” Marie commented forlornly to Georgette.
“Of course she does. Wait until you see it. Maura’s mother made it, and it matches her headpiece. It’s absolutely stunning,” Georgette confided as if Maura weren’t even present.
“Where is your bouquet?” Georgette asked looking about the room.
“In the second drawer of the chiffonier,” Maura answered, watching as Georgette pulled the small bouquet fashioned from ribbons, lace, and waxed orange blossoms and leaves from the depths of the bureau.
“Oh, Maura, it’s lovely,” Marie agreed, admiring the delicate arrangement.
“Thank you, and thank you both for your help. I think we’re ready, with time to spare,” she added.
“I just hope that Michael gets here with the buggy,” Geor-gette said just as a knock sounded at the front door. Waffles bounded from the room and raced down the steps, his instinctive barking at any intrusion now expected by the residents of the household.
Georgette followed the dog downstairs and found herself hoping that Luther would be standing there to greet her. In-stead, it was Michael, dressed in his best dark blue suit, and the buggy was parked in front of the house.
“Is she ready?” Michael whispered.
“Yes, but believe me, I tried my best all morning to dissuade her. She wouldn’t hear of it,” Georgette divulged.
“I haven’t seen anything of Luther, and I think if he were in town the store would be open or there’d be some sign of him. I stopped by the Wilsons’ place earlier today, but they hadn’t heard from him, either. However, Charles and Edith said they’d be at the church as planned. I’m afraid everyone’s going to be there except Luther. I hope this isn’t going to turn into a disaster for Maura,” he said in a compassionate voice.
“Hello, Michael,” Maura called out from the top of the stairs. “Thank you for being so prompt.”
“My! Don’t you look lovely,” Michael complimented. “How fortunate can a man be? Escorting such lovely ladies doesn’t happen very often. This is truly a pleasure. Let me help you with your wraps,” he offered.
“I’ll go and get Becca,” Marie offered while the others were retrieving their coats.
All of them smiled when Marie returned with the baby. Marie had gathered the baby’s downy fuzz together and placed a tiny bow on her head.
“She’s dressed for the occasion, also,” Marie said, giggling at Becca as she handed the infant over to Georgette and allowed Michael to assist her into her own coat.
The brief ride to the church seemed even shorter today. Maura strained to catch sight of Luther or glimpse any evidence that he might be present at the church. But she didn’t see any sign of his horse or the buggy that he used on Sundays and special occasions. From the number of carriages tied outside the church, it appeared many of the folks from town had braved the cold.
“Looks like you’re going to have quite a few folks celebrating with you,” Michael ventured as they pulled to a stop at the back of the church.
Maura merely nodded her head and allowed him to assist her down from the buggy.
“I’ll take you in and come back for Marie and Georgette,” he instructed. “That way you’ll have time to talk to Charles before it’s time to begin.” He escorted her into the back of the church and toward the small room where she was to meet the pastor.
The tinkling sounds of the piano lingered in the air as she entered the room. Pastor Wilson was there—alone—sitting in one of the chairs and reading his Bible.
“Maura, don’t you look lovely. What a beautiful bride you are,” he complimented warmly, rising from the overstuffed chair and placing his Bible on the small oak table sitting between two of the chairs.
“Thank you, Charles. Have you seen anything of Luther yet?” she inquired, her voice filled with expectancy.
“I’m afraid not, my dear,” he replied. “But there’s still time. The service isn’t due to begin for another fifteen minutes, and I’m not opposed to waiting a bit longer than that if need be.”
“Luther believes in punctuality. If he’s not here at the appointed time, he’ll not be coming,” she stated.
“Now, now, my dear. Occasionally life can cause delays. We can’t always adhere to the ticking of a clock. Why don’t you sit down, and we’ll read some scripture and pray a bit,” he offered.
Maura carefully backed toward the chair, the whalebone stays causing her no small amount of difficulty in maneuvering. She smiled. “I think I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind. It took a great deal of time getting in and out of the buggy, and I don’t think I’m up to the challenge quite so soon,” she explained.
“Certainly. I understand,” he said, leafing through the Bible for a passage that he hoped would lessen Maura’s obvious concerns about Luther and his whereabouts. “Are you familiar with the words of Matthew 6:25, Maura?”
“Would that be a passage about worry and anxiety?” she inquired.
“Exactly,” he said with a smile. “Would you like me to read it aloud?”
“Please,” she replied, slowly beginning to relax.
Charles settled into the chair and quietly began to read. Maura listened carefully as he recited these words: “Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?”
Both Charles and Maura turned as a voice behind them continued, “Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?”
“Luther!” Maura exclaimed, rushing to his outstretched arms. “Oh, Luther, I was so worried. You should never have made that trip. Were you caught in the blizzard?”
He smiled down at her and reached into the embroidered blue satin waistcoat he had worn for their wedding in San Francisco. Pulling out his watch, he clicked it open. “I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until after the wedding for explanations if we’re going to begin on time,” he told her.
“I told you he believed in pu
nctuality,” she said, looking over her shoulder toward Charles.
“There’s time for just one thing before we go into the church,” he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his coat and pulling out a black velvet box. “This is why I went to San Francisco,” he revealed as he opened the case.
“Oh, Luther,” she said, stunned at the beauty of his gift.
“Do you like it?” he inquired, his eyes twinkling at her obvious delight.
“How could anyone not like it?” she asked, staring at the most beautiful brooch she had ever seen. The circular silver pin was set with a hexagonal emerald surrounded by six sparkling diamonds.
“Turn it over,” he instructed as she lifted it from the bed of ivory silk inside the container.
Carefully, she revolved the pin and saw the engraved words on the back. Maura, you have changed my heart forever. I’ll love you always. Luther.
“Thank you,” she said as her finger traced over the words. Turning the pin over, her finger caught on a tiny clasp and the pin snapped open, revealing a delicate watch.
“I thought you might like to have a watch to make sure that I’m punctual, since I’m always checking the time,” he said, giving her a smile.
“Oh, Luther, what a wonderful gift,” she said, once again looking down at the pin.
The preacher looked across her hand and eyed the gift. “It would appear that you’d better pin that on her gown, or we’re going to be late in spite of those timepieces.”
This wedding was everything that Maura had originally hoped for. Most important, their vows were exchanged in love with hope for their future together as husband and wife. When Pastor Wilson announced that Luther could kiss his bride, this time it took no prompting from Maura.
After Luther pulled her into his arms, his lips sought hers with a fervent desire that touched the depths of her soul. She leaned into him and returned the kiss with an intense longing. A longing to begin her life anew as his wife—her life as Maura Buchanan.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JUDITH MCCOY MILLER was chosen favorite new author in the Heartsong series, and her historical novels have ranked high among readers. In her first contemporary novel, A Trusting Heart, Judith drew on events in her own life to make the story come alive. Her other books draw from her fascination with history. She makes her home in Kansas with her family.
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