by Tanya Hanson
“Well, sure.” Hoop was no theologian, either, but he’d witness as well as God led him right now. “God is everywhere. But He sent His son Jesus to live as a man among us, to experience all the shortcomings of us humans.” He ran a finger over her cheek. It seemed the thing to do, and for once, he felt warmth from her skin.
Her eyes watched him carefully, but she said nothing.
“Then He suffered and died in the stead of us sinners,” Hoop explained. “Rose from the dead to cover our sins. Make sure we were able to gain eternal life with Him in heaven. Promised to help us face life here on earth. So I identify with that. The suffering, the struggles. The temptations. The hope of salvation.”
Mallie nodded, her lemony scent drifting around them. “My family never attended a church. I’ve never been baptized or dedicated or christened or confirmed or communed. Or any of those rituals.” She held onto him tight for a long moment. Then she finally spoke. “But…for some reason, I understand what I’m hearing right now.” She sighed.
Even with the smidge of bitterness left in her voice, Hooper’s heart couldn’t help surge with happiness at being the Lord’s instrument. After all, He did work in mysterious ways. Hoop pointed to Grim-Gram’s oil painting over the fireplace.
“I like it,” Mallie said. “I noticed it right off. Jesus, right?”
“My ma’s ma painted it. My Grim-Gram. She was a righteous old lady but a tad ornery. Liked things her way.”
“I like her, too.” Mallie chuckled, and Hoop grinned at the lively sound. It was sure better than her wrenching sobs.
“Well, ya never really retire from ranching. But arthritis caught up with her. So she set up that granny flat and a big art studio. Said she never had time to paint before. Said the light off the mountains was great. Her fingers were pretty gnarled up, but she painted that picture for Pa one Christmas when we were kids.”
“It fits. I’ve seen a lot of religious pictures in museums and they’re all angelic and full of gold and halos.” She rushed on. “Not that that’s bad or anything.”
“But those museum pictures are why you thought God is up there somewhere, not right by your side.” He pulled her closer. “Grim-Gram said when she was about eight, she learned in Sunday school that Jesus promised to be with her always. So she always imagined Him at her side, a regular workday sort of guy. Right here in the West. Somebody she could trust whatever was going on.”
“That’s lovely, actually.”
Hoop continued, soft. “I know He was by my side during it all. He was by yours, too. Even if you didn’t realize it. There’s a Psalm I truly enjoy. Psalm 73. Something about Him always with you. He holds your right hand and guides you with His counsel, and after it all, He will receive you to glory.”
She stirred against him. “It’s a nice thought.”
“It’s a reality, honey.” The endearment slipped out again, and he felt a flush warm his cheekbones. “He’s with us. He knows our thoughts, our fears. I mean, I want to go to heaven. But I can’t deny I want to be with Ella for a long, long time. So I do what I pray you try to do.”
“What’s that? Read that Psalm?”
“Sure, do that. But most important: Let go. And let God.”
Mallie didn’t say anything, but he was sure he could see her brain working. “Now, come on,” he said. “You’re tired and bummed, I know that. But you promised.”
“Promised?”
“To be my date tonight. I’m not gonna let you skip out.” He tried to flutter his eyelashes and act casual. “It’ll be good for you. Being around happy people. And you know, a girl’s gotta eat.”
“All right,” she grumbled and showed her big smile and white teeth.
There was just nothing else to do. Hands on either side of her face, he dropped a kiss on her forehead, all the time wishing he’d been brave enough to taste her mouth.
6
Mallie slept pretty well, all things considered. She wasn’t quite sure what Let Go and Let God meant exactly, but Hooper’s words had given her great comfort. After all, he was making it through similar situations and staying strong.
Lying in bed in her room named for outlaw Belle Starr and Vincent Van Gogh, she snuggled under a log cabin print quilt and recalled the heat of his lips and placed a finger softly on her forehead where they’d been. It was a dangerous pastime, daydreaming about him kissing her mouth, but she indulged just for a second, and closed her eyes. She opened them wide right away, reminding herself she still had to talk to him about her resolution that they’d just have a weekend. Renny and his family were still foremost in her mind. She couldn’t have kids anyway, but she’d never give her heart to a family and then let them down.
Today would be a busy one, with Hoop occupied with his family. Tomorrow, he’d take her to church and after, they could ride to Posy’s Grove. He’d promised to show her and tell her the story. She could open her heart to him then.
Yes. Church. That was a lovely thought. She got up and stretched, not even headachy after all the tears. Mallie pulled open the red gingham curtains and looked around the charming bedroom. With its wagon-wheel headboard and plump, red patchwork shams, it wasn’t a thing like her trendy loft condo in L.A., but she felt right at home after just one night. Whether that was a good feeling or bad she couldn’t quite decide.
The rehearsal dinner had been a good time, and Hooper had been right. She’d enjoyed herself, made new friends, and cheered up. His ma’s and sister Kelley’s cooking had been stupendous. Later, she knew she’d deal with her loss, but today she was here. Christy and Kenn deserved her joy.
“Now, you go change.” She remembered Hoop saying as he led her to the tulle-wrapped staircase last night. “This rehearsal dinner is a dressy event for Hearts Crossing.”
After a quick shower, she’d met him downstairs for the dinner, her heart flying around her ribs. With a silly formal bow, he offered his arm, casual and elegant at the same time in his crisp white Western shirt, spit-polished boots, and tidy, if not brand new, jeans. His four brothers were dressed similar, and they were all eye-catching. Rachel had said something about a chocoholic gene for the Martin women. Well, a handsome gene sure ran through the males of this family.
Mallie had thrown on a raspberry silk halter dress with a coordinating stole, and the light in Hooper’s eyes lingered still in her mind this morning. Well, she might as well throw on something now and head down to breakfast, which no doubt, would be another amazing meal. She opened the nightstand drawer to stash her little travel alarm clock when something caught her eye.
A Bible.
Goodness, had she ever read one? She’d seen those Gideon Bibles in hotels a million times and never touched one. During her treatments, Mom had given her a book of precious inspirational sayings and some had been Scripture verses. She didn’t recall Hoop’s Psalm, though, so she sat down on the bed and paged through to find the seventy-third one.
“I went past it. You’d think I could still count,” She laughed at herself as the page flipped to Psalm 121. She stopped.
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help…
As if on cue, she raised her head. Outside, the glorious mountains huddled around Hearts Crossing like Hoop’s big shoulders that had comforted her last night. She knew right then just how Grim-Gram had felt when roused to paint her picture. How Jesus was right there at her side, not off on a cloud. Mallie sensed the presence of that same Jesus right here.
Let go. Let God.
She wondered if He would follow her home. Is that what Hoop had meant? In wonderment, she closed her eyes in a silent prayer that had no real words.
After she scrambled into jeans and a bubblegum pink sweater, she heard excited chatter downstairs and couldn’t help wrapping herself in it. The sounds were definitely girly ones, though, and she realized she longed to see Hooper. Disappointment prickled, and these were dangerous feelings. She knew it full well. But she’d be leaving tomorrow, but for today, she might as
well pamper herself with them. With Hooper.
Downstairs, Kelley handed her a cup of coffee, and Mallie held onto its warmth as she grabbed her thoughts to settle them. Throughout the lounge, bridesmaids and sorority sisters stood or sat, all in various stages of breakfast. Katie, the pretty Asian who had so entranced Brian yesterday, waved, and Mallie returned the gesture with a friendly smile, recalling how cozy Brian and Katie had looked last night. The only male present seemed to be Rachel’s baby son Matty, who presently snuggled at his mamma’s breast in an overstuffed chair. Christy, in a corner, seemed to be consoling her mother.
Rachel winked somberly. “Hey, Mallie. I think we’re going to have to take you up on that promise of yours.”
“What?” Mallie crinkled her nose.
“To fix last-minute disasters.” Rachel sighed, but Mallie didn’t let her finish.
“Oh, goodness.” She ran to bride and her mother, not sure what she might have to do but knew she’d do it. “How can I help?”
Mrs. Forrest smiled, but her eyes were watery and her lip quivered. “It’s not a big deal.”
“We ordered a bushel basket of rosemary sprigs, but the florist brought in asparagus fern.” Christy explained.
“It’s lovely, but…all the brides in my family have sprigs of rosemary in their bouquets.” Mrs. Forrest’s voice trembled. “I know I’m being silly. I’m just disappointed. And there was to be enough to decorate the church.”
“It’s going to be fine, Mom.”
Suddenly Mallie took to heart her promise to fix things. She knew just what to do. “Excuse me. I’ll see what I can do.” She ran upstairs for her cell phone then settled in last night’s study. After a brief conversation, she ran back to the lounge.
“It’s going to be all right, Mrs. Forrest. My aunt and uncle have a flower shop in Promise. I just talked to them at home. And they’ve got rosemary. Not enough to decorate everything, but enough for bouquets for sure. They said they’ll meet me halfway. Some place called Carter’s Creek. That way I don’t have to rush all the way there and back, and they can get back for opening time.”
Both Christy and her mom beamed. “I don’t know how to thank you, Mallie.” The bride hugged her close. “Mom’s had her heart set on it. You know.”
Mallie did know. It was another ritual, a tradition that meant the world.
“God bless you, sweetheart.” The bride’s mother hugged her, too.
“But will you have time?” Christy asked. “The staff from the Bumble Bee Beauty Shop in town is due any minute to do everybody’s hair and makeup. Yours, too. Please?”
As amazed and touched as she was to be included, Mallie shook her head and laughed so nobody felt weird. “Thanks, but no. I know just how to get my hair arranged to cover my staples and scars. That’s why I keep it short and sweet.” She kept the conversation light. “And somebody out yonder has a wig with my hair on it. Locks of Love.”
“Why, Daisy did that very thing last summer. Cut off ten-inches worth,” Mrs. Forrest crowed.
“Good for you, girl!” Mallie blew a kiss to Pike’s raven-haired fiancée, amazed how right at home she felt discussing the personal subject. “I did it, you know, before the big shave.” She couldn’t help a laugh. “I had this long straight hair, really long. And then it grew back curly. Go figure.”
Everybody’s face bloomed into smiles. Daisy joined her, face pink from the group’s praise. Holding out a plate of miniature blueberry muffins, she offered one to Mallie.
“I grew up in Promise,” Daisy said. “There’s only one florist there. Wildflower Junction. That’s them?”
Mouth full of muffin, Mallie nodded.
“Why, they’re the dearest old couple ever. I can’t believe this small world.” Daisy shook her head in wonderment.
“Same here. I better find Brian and get the car keys.”
“Good luck with that.” Daisy snorted. “The guys decided they had nothing better to do but go out on a morning trail ride.”
Mallie’s heart couldn’t help a little freefall. That meant Hoop wasn’t anywhere near. Strange how bereft she felt.
Dangerous, too. She had to knock it off.
Christy grinned but shook her head. “I know. I told Hoop he had to keep Kenn out of my sight…” Now Mallie’s heart bounced hearing his name. “…because it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. And that’s what they came up with.
“Now, y’all know Kenn’s been riding since he crawled. Without incident.” Daisy guffawed. “Today he’ll probably get thrown off and bust his arm or something.”
Mrs. Forrest gasped in horror, but the group laughed, and Christy playfully slugged Daisy’s arm. Pure affection gleamed in her eyes as she looked at Pike’s future bride. Mallie didn’t know the whole stories, but she did know Daisy had once treated Kenn badly–as well as Pike, but now the women appeared to be true friends. Pike had promised Daisy his love, name, and life, and today, Daisy was a bridesmaid. The power of forgiveness overwhelmed Mallie.
But Mallie had a task to do, and the rest of them had to get beautified. “Maybe I can find my brother’s keys in the guesthouse. I better make tracks.” She drained the coffee mug and said goodbye.
“No. Take my little red pony,” Daisy said.
“What?”
“Red ’68 classic Ford Mustang. Great car,” Kelley called out.
“C’mon,”—Daisy waggled her keys—“I’ll show you where my car is.”
Mallie ran upstairs for her purse and denim jacket and walked with Daisy out the big double doors into a picture-perfect autumn morning. Like a veil, sunlight woven of silver and gold strands covered the mountains as day came in full. Thick white clouds bundled together across the range, but Hoop had explained similar ones on their ride yesterday. She knew rain wasn’t in the forecast.
Daisy’s boots crunched against gravel. “When I was little, I always reckoned that’s what heaven looks like.” She pointed to the rising sun. “All those rays and shining clouds.”
Mallie remembered Grim-Gram’s painting and smiled back. Something about this young woman made her easy to talk to. “I wasn’t raised in a church. I guess you could say my upbringing was spiritual rather than religious.” Hooper’s words of last night, his sharing of the Scripture, the Bible this morning seemed to console her with a new kind of peace. “But I think I’m finding my way.”
They headed toward a sea of cars near a stand of brown trees. “I know how that goes.” Daisy paused for a minute. “I was lost for quite a while. Pike helped me find the Lord again. The folks here at Hearts Crossing just seem to make the way easier for those of us who stumble. I honestly think it’s God at work through them. You know, Mallie?” She looked down awkwardly at her toes and combed her fingers through the wispy layers of the black hair that hung past her shoulders. “That Locks of Love thing. Well, things were bad and I, I don’t know why, but I did it and then things with Pike turned good.”
“I’m so glad things worked out with you and Pike. But Daisy, you don’t need a reason to do something good.”
“Now that’s definitely a Hooperism. You been hanging around him?” Daisy’s eyelashes batted innocently.
For a moment, the heat of irritation flooded Mallie despite the cold mountain air. Daisy was like everybody else she knew who had found a good man and was secure in her love for him. They wanted to match-make everybody else and just didn’t get it. Some people were better off alone. She might as well start setting the record straight with the Hearts Crossing bunch.
“He’s been very friendly, but I don’t date, Daisy, if that’s where you’re going.” As Daisy’s mouth opened to riposte, Mallie rushed because the words were always hard to say. To hear. “I can’t have kids. And the statistics, well, none of the statistics for my condition are encouraging. So I won’t put any guy through that. Pre-emptive strike.” She couldn’t bear thinking about Renny again. Or thinking of a future without Hooper in it. But it was best this way. “And thanks for trusting
me with your car. I’m cleared to drive, you know. Seizure meds.”
Seeing the red Mustang in the throng of metal, she ran over to it, hoping she hadn’t been too rude.
Her spirits sank. The car was a stick shift, and Brian’s rental was stuck smack dab in the middle of stacked parking. Maybe her own past had Daisy holding her tongue, for she merely held out the keys and gave Mallie a big smile.
“Tank’s practically full. Just head down the main road. Five miles-ish, halfway point is Carter’s Creek. There’s a sign.”
“Yeah. Uncle Ted mentioned it.” Mallie grimaced and made no move for the key of a car she couldn’t drive.
“Pretty spot. There’s a picnic area. And guess what?” Daisy rolled her eyes. “However it works, there is cell phone service along there. If you should need it.”
Breathing out, Mallie had to confess. But she hesitated. Daisy would no doubt feel compelled to forego her up-do and makeover to get Mallie to Carter’s Creek.
“I need more than that, Daisy. I…never learned to drive a stick shift.” More than a little embarrassed, for she loathed helpless-sounding females, she turned her head toward the house.
“Never you fear. Bragg?” Daisy called out, surprising Mallie. Bragg Martin wasn’t with the rest of the groomsmen on a trail ride but sauntering down the porch steps.
Daisy’s future brother-in-law waved at them both and loped over. The tallest of the Martin boys, wide shouldered and suntanned even in autumn, Bragg looked the total Colorado cowboy in rugged jeans, red plaid jacket, and of course, a black Stetson with a fringe of his brown sun-streaked hair peeking underneath it at the back of his neck.
“Since the best man isn’t on the male-bonding trail ride,” Daisy said with a teasing gleam in her dark eyes, “could I persuade you to get our Miss Mallie to Carter’s Creek?” She waved the keys at him, and Bragg squinted, his face posed sideways in puzzlement.
Eyebrows rising to his brim, Bragg looked at Mallie with a backward nod at Daisy. “This young lady mistrusts most everybody with her filly. So, yeah, I’ll do anything to get to drive it. What’s up? Must be serious.”