“On what topic?”
“Wild west shows.” He looked at Mary and grinned. “Or at least their performers.”
“I’m certain our ladies would be more than happy to tell their stories. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see if Oliver is comfortable.”
“We were both so glad that he was able to walk Lizzy down the aisle,” Mary said before Mrs. Brookstone could leave.
The older woman turned back and nodded. Her worry shone on her face. “He’s far from healthy, but I think with plenty of rest and care, he’ll recover.”
“Does he still plan to return to the show in the spring?”
“Of course. But only time will tell if that’s feasible. Oliver isn’t as young as he thinks he is, and when you add in the other issues . . . well, I’d just as soon see him remain with us on the ranch.”
She took her leave and made her way to Oliver, who was talking with a group of ranch hands.
Mary turned back to Chris and found him watching her. “Is something wrong? Has my hat gone askew?” She reached up to check that it was still secure.
“Nothing is wrong. I was just thinking how beautiful you are and how much I’m going to miss you while we’re apart.”
“And how long is that going to be?” They’d talked about a lot of things these past few weeks, but not that. She’d been afraid of the answer and so never posed the question.
“I don’t know, Mary. I have my responsibilities, but I won’t let them keep me from you forever. I’m looking forward to visiting your farm in Kansas.”
“My opa’s farm. I only own a tiny bit of acreage. Although I have saved up a goodly sum and have always thought about buying a bigger piece.”
“In Kansas?”
She shrugged. “I always figured it would be there, since Opa and Oma are there and I was supposed to marry a Kansas farm boy.” She grinned and crossed her arms. “But now I find myself rather distracted by a young man who is a strange mix of places. I have to admit, he fascinates me.”
Chris’s blue eyes narrowed. “And if he wanted you to follow him around the world, would you do that?”
Mary tried not to let herself be excited by the idea. “I suppose it would depend on the details of the proposition.”
“Hey, you two, what are you discussing so seriously over here?” Lizzy asked, joining them. “This is my wedding day, after all, and serious business should be delayed until another time.”
Mary admired her friend’s beautiful ivory gown. “You look so lovely, Lizzy. This dress is perfect, almost as if it had been created just for you.”
“Thank you.” Lizzy gave a turn. “In a sense it was. I fell in love with something similar in a shop window in Washington, D.C. I didn’t want to tell anyone about it, however, for fear Wesley might see it ahead of time. So I snuck over there, they took my measurements, and I told them about the changes I had in mind. I paid them a handsome deposit and gave them Mother’s name and information to coordinate for future matters. Then I prayed nothing would go wrong and the dress would be safely shipped to Montana well before I needed it.”
“So you bought it before Wesley had even proposed?” Mary asked.
Lizzy nodded and leaned closer. “But don’t tell him. I don’t want him to think I was taking advantage of him.”
Chris laughed. “I think he would consider himself lucky to know you were so certain of his feelings.”
“I’ll remember you said that.” Mary met his surprised expression with a raised brow.
“I believe we’re ready to start the buffet, ma’am,” an aproned young man came to tell Lizzy.
“Very well. I shall find my husband.” She giggled. “I do love saying that.”
Mary and Chris watched her weave in and out of the guests until she reached the head table, where Wesley already waited. She whispered in his ear, and Wesley called for everyone to quiet down.
“They tell me we’re ready to start this meal, so I’d like to offer a prayer of thanks.”
Everyone bowed their heads, and Chris surprised Mary by taking her hand.
“Lord, we give You thanks on this day for the blessings You’ve given. We thank You for joining Lizzy and I in holy matrimony and for the blessings that will fall upon us over the years. We ask for strength to face what will come our way and pray that You will always guide us. Bless this food now and the hands that prepared it. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Amens rose up like a cheer. Mary and Chris went through the line together, mounding their plates with mashed potatoes and gravy, fried chicken, and a bevy of other delectable dishes. They sat with Phillip and Ella, as well as several other ranch hands, and were soon caught up telling stories of the past.
When the clock chimed noon, Mary knew it wouldn’t be much longer until they had to head to the depot for Chris to catch his train. She felt a wave of melancholy spread over her. She didn’t want him to go. Neither did she want to go to Kansas without him. What if they never saw each other again? What if one of them was in a horrible train wreck like Buffalo Bill’s show had experienced? She sighed and did her best to keep a smile plastered on her face. This was Lizzy’s big day, and she wasn’t going to spoil it by being in a mood.
She went to retrieve her cloak. She would go with Chris to see him off and be of good cheer. The last thing she wanted was to be one of those silly females who cried buckets of tears.
“Are you all right?”
Mary turned to find Ella behind her. “I am. I was just collecting my cloak so I could walk with Chris to the train station.”
“I figured that much. I knew he was leaving. He’s telling everyone good-bye.”
“Yes.”
Ella touched her arm. “He won’t tell you good-bye, Mary. He’s far too much in love.” She gave Mary a hug, then helped her pull the heavy black cloak around her shoulders. “This should keep you nice and warm.”
Mary fought back the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”
Only a moment later, Chris joined her. He put on his outer coat. “I should have had this at the church, then you could have worn it for the walk over here.”
She waited while he buttoned the coat and then donned his hat. “Don’t forget your luggage.”
He nodded and retrieved the leather valise. They slipped from the hotel and headed down Main Street to Sixth and turned toward the depot. The wind had picked up, making conversation difficult, and neither of them said a word. Mary wondered if it was going to snow, as the skies were a gunmetal gray and clouds had moved in to hang low.
“We should have borrowed a wagon. You’ll freeze on the walk back,” Chris said apologetically.
“I’ll be just fine,” she assured him, trying her best not to cry.
Chris slowed his steps. “There’s something I need to tell you. I’ve held off because I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I promise I won’t stop in my pursuit of the truth.”
“What are you talking about?” She stopped and turned to meet his somber expression.
“My friend who went to Fleming Farm to investigate . . . he didn’t have any luck. He said when he went looking for answers, he was caught by Fleming’s staff and brought to Spiby. Spiby put an end to the interview and escorted him off the property.”
“Oh.” She was unable to say anything more.
“Mary, we will get answers. This just makes me all the more certain that something is going on there that they don’t want anyone to know about.”
“And that something got my brother killed.”
She felt hopeless, but Chris fought to assure her. “Look, this isn’t the end. We will keep striving to find the truth, to get justice for August. I promise.”
“I know you’ll do what you can . . . but maybe we’ll never get to find the truth.”
“Maybe. I suppose you have to ask yourself if you can live with that. What if God never gives you a clear answer on this? Will you still trust Him?”
She thought for a moment. “How could I not? What is t
here for me besides that?” She’d never really seen this before, and a sense of understanding this brought peace. “If I never know the truth, I will still trust in God.”
He smiled. “That’s my girl. Still, I have hope.” He chucked her under the chin. “I know how to get the truth for my stories. Don’t give up on me. I’ll continue to look for an answer.”
They heard the train whistle, and Chris put his arm around her shoulders as they continued toward the station.
The train was just arriving when they entered the depot. The passengers, what few there were, ambled toward the platform door. Everyone knew the train wouldn’t be here long.
“Well, we timed that just right,” Chris said, setting down his case. He searched his pockets for his ticket and finally located it in his top inside suit pocket. He held it up like he’d discovered gold.
Mary knew it wouldn’t have mattered even if he hadn’t found it. He was going away. Tears came despite her best efforts, and she looked away. This wasn’t how she’d planned it. She was a strong woman, so why did she feel like wailing?
“Mary.” He whispered her name, but she couldn’t make herself turn to face him. “Mary.” He took her arms and turned her around. “Mary, look at me.”
She raised her face as tears trickled down her cheeks. She bit her lip to keep from saying something she’d regret.
Chris tenderly touched her cheek. “Don’t cry, Mary.” He smiled, still holding her gaze. “The time will pass quickly. You’ll see.”
She drew a deep breath and forced her voice to be steady. “I don’t know why I’m being such a ninny.”
“You aren’t being a ninny. Your tears touch me, because I know you really care—that you’re really sorry to see me go. No one’s ever cried over me, Mary. Not since my mother.”
“I am sorry to see you go. I—” The words caught in her throat.
“Will you wait for me?”
“Wait for you?”
He grinned. “Yes. Wait for me. Wait for me to come back to you. To marry you.”
She sniffed. “Are you proposing to me?”
He looked around the empty waiting room. “There’s no one else here, and certainly no one else I want to marry.”
Her mouth quivered, and tears came anew as Chris got down on one knee.
“Mary, wherever I go, you’ll be with me. And wherever you go, you can be assured that I’ll be with you in spirit and heart. I want you to be my wife. Please say yes.”
“Yes,” Mary was barely able to whisper before she burst into sobs of joy.
Chris got back to his feet. “I love you, Mary. With all my heart.” He kissed her soundly, then hugged her close.
The train whistle blew, and the conductor gave a holler. “All aboard!”
“I love you, Chris.”
He kissed her once more, then grabbed his valise. Mary watched him make a mad dash for the train and followed him out onto the platform as the cars began to move forward. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, making her smile.
He’d made her realize a sense of peace that hadn’t been there before. The unspoken question of whether she could still trust God even if He didn’t give her resolution regarding August had been shaking her faith in a way she hadn’t known. It had been there all the time, underlying everything she said and did. Now she knew the answer. No matter what happened, she wouldn’t walk away from God. He was her hope and would remain so.
The train whistle sounded as the locomotive moved out through the city. She waved even though Chris couldn’t possibly see her now. “Wherever you go, my love,” she whispered, “my heart goes too.”
Tracie Peterson is the award-winning author of more than one hundred novels, both historical and contemporary. Her avid research resonates in her stories, as seen in her bestselling HEIRS OF MONTANA and ALASKAN QUEST series. Tracie and her family make their home in Montana. Visit Tracie’s website at www.traciepeterson.com.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Tracie Peterson
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Epigraph
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About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
List of Pages
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