Hope Rekindled (24 page)

Mother pulled Deborah’s veil in place to cover her face, then Lizzie helped Deborah into delicate white lace gloves. With this accomplished, Lizzie handed Deborah a bouquet of pink and white flowers that Sissy had put together.

“Sissy said she prayed over each flower as she picked and arranged them,” Lizzie said. “She said to tell you that you should let these flowers remind you never to fret about what you’ll wear or eat. Consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. God doesn’t forget them, and He certainly won’t forget you.”

Deborah looked at the flowers in a new light. What a precious blessing. Mother pressed a fine white lace handkerchief into Deborah’s gloved palm.

“This belonged to my mother and her mother before her. We’ve each carried it on our wedding day, and I’m hopeful you will continue the tradition. My mother told me that this handkerchief is for tears of joy and sorrow. The two mixed together represent all that a good life offers—for without the times of struggle, we cannot truly appreciate the times of rest. Without the moments of pain, we do not realize the blessing of its absence.”

Deborah nodded. She was afraid to speak for fear she might cry. She caught her reflection in the mirror and was startled. She couldn’t help remembering that she’d felt this same way on that day, two months earlier, when they’d been making the final adjustments to the gown. She felt like a queen, all garbed in silk. It was all the more special because this was the gown, albeit remade, that her mother had worn to wed her father. It was more precious to Deborah than she could ever express.

Arjan came to her side. “You make a beautiful bride, Deborah. I’m right proud to give you away.”

Deborah tucked the handkerchief around the flower stems and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Thank you. I’m so blessed.” She looked to her mother and then to Lizzie. Drawing a deep breath, she smiled and gave a nod. “I’m ready.”

They made their way downstairs and out the side door. When she’d dreamed of this day, the wedding service had always been in a church with hundreds of people in attendance. But instead, it was in her mother’s own beautifully cultivated yard with just a few friends and family. Yet Deborah forgot all about that when they rounded the corner and she saw Christopher standing beside Pastor Shattuck.

She felt light-headed as G.W. nudged him and Christopher caught sight of her for the first time that day. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. He loved her. It was all she could do to keep from running to cross the distance. A nervous giggle escaped her at the thought. What would they all say if she hiked her skirts and dashed for the porch steps?

“Are you all right?” Arjan whispered.

“I’m fine. I’m just fine.”

Deborah caught a whiff of honeysuckle from the bush near the porch. In a flash of blue and white, Emma and Darcy came rushing around the corner of the house. They looked quite dainty and stylish in their new gowns.

“Is it time?” Darcy asked, looking up expectantly. “Emma and I are all ready.”

“It’s time,” Lizzie told them.

Jacob Wythe stood at a distance, obscured from view by the trunks of longleaf pines. He’d told himself he wouldn’t come to the wedding. He’d convinced himself that it wasn’t something he should do—that he would only regret it and cause others pain. And still, he couldn’t help himself.

He’d very nearly convinced himself to leave when he caught sight of Deborah coming from the side of the house. He couldn’t take his gaze from her.

She might have been mine
, he thought. He watched Lizzie and Mrs. Vandermark fuss with the skirts of Deborah’s wedding gown while Arjan patiently waited until the women finished.

Two young girls came bounding up as the wedding party reached the front yard. Jake supposed they were the doc’s sisters that he’d heard so much about from Jimmy and Tommy. They danced around Deborah in their excitement.

He remembered days long past when he had known a family’s joy and celebration. Everything had changed with the drought and his father’s decision to sell the ranch. If he’d only been able to hold on a little while longer, he might have found himself in a good position after the horrendous loss of the previous winter. Many Texas ranchers were making good deals on their cattle because of the thousands of head lost to the blizzards.

Jake watched Deborah for a few more minutes and realized that his sense of loss wasn’t in her—but in her family. He wanted to be a part of something. When his family headed to California, it was as if he’d lost his history.

“Why did I stay?” he questioned, shaking his head. He remembered the anger he’d held toward his father. He’d argued with the man for not having the courage to stand fast through the drought. Jake sighed. He’d put up a wall of separation with the only two people he truly needed in his life. Maybe, he thought, it was time to apologize. He could send a telegram to California. The idea encouraged him. He cast one final glance at Deborah and smiled. She was beautiful. Kind and loving. She’d make a good wife—just not his. And for the first time in many, many months, Jake felt that he could accept and live with that fact.

D
o you, Deborah, take this man, Christopher, to be your lawfully wedded husband—” Pastor Shattuck threw her a smile—“to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish?”

Deborah looked through the fine netting of her veil and nodded. “I do.”

Christopher, having already agreed to the same, took hold of her hand. He carefully removed the glove and slipped a simple gold band onto her finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.” His gaze rose to meet hers, and he tightened his hold on her hand. “May it be a symbol of all that we’ve pledged today.”

She fought back tears of joy and managed a nod. Pastor Shattuck closed the Bible. “It is my joy to pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Christopher lifted the veil. He smiled at her. “We finally managed to see it through,” he teased. Then with great tenderness, he drew Deborah into his arms and kissed her.

Deborah heard the applause and shouts of congratulations, but it was Christopher who held her attention. “I love you,” she whispered as he pulled away.

“Good thing, too, for I love you with all my heart.”

“I think this was the perfect setting for your wedding,” Lizzie said, handing Deborah back her bouquet.

“I agree,” Pastor Shattuck said. “Perhaps my next church will have some lovely gardens in which I can marry folk.”

“I’m hopin’ your next wedding will be mine and Mara’s,” Rob declared, coming to congratulate Deborah. He looked to Mara’s father. “Thank you for giving us your blessing.”

“So it’s official now?” Deborah asked.

Mara held up her hand and revealed the small pearl that adorned a simple gold band. “He asked me this morning.”

Mother seemed nearly ready to dance at the news. “And have you set the date?”

Rob and Mara exchanged a glance. “No, but we’ll work on it,” Mara replied. She motioned to the table where Sissy and Mrs. Perkins were already helping to ready the food. “A great deal of work went into this feast, and I suggest we celebrate.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Arjan declared. “I’m very patient, but that roasted pork is hard to ignore. The aroma just about caused me to make a scene.”

The gathered well-wishers laughed at this comment. Christopher, however, appeared to feel the same way. “Let us lead by example, Wife.” Mara came to Deborah’s side and whispered in her ear. Deborah smiled and nodded.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make. Today we are not only celebrating my wedding, we are also celebrating my brother’s birthday.” She looked at Rob and her smile broadened. “Surprise!”

His expression was one of confusion. Glancing to Mara and his mother, Rob shook his head. “But it isn’t my birthday.”

“It will be soon enough,” Mara declared. “You’re the one who forced us to move up the date.”

Deborah crossed to where Rob stood. “And if we’d waited until the actual day, it wouldn’t have been a surprise. Now come along and let us celebrate.”

Christopher joined his wife and gave her a wink. “I’m gonna waste away if we don’t get to eating soon.”

Everyone laughed, but Deborah’s expression was serious. “I suppose you only married me for this feast.”

He chuckled and leaned close to her ear. “If you would allow me some privacy, I’d explain in great detail why I married you.”

“Dr. Kelleher!” she exclaimed, pulling back. “Mind your manners.”

He only laughed and took hold of her arm. Deborah allowed him to guide her to the main table. Arjan and the others had put together several tables to accompany the newly made benches. Mother and Lizzie had, in turn, covered those with tablecloths.

“I’d much prefer privacy . . . with or without food,” Christopher whispered in her ear.

Deborah felt her face flush. She looked toward the ground to avoid anyone seeing her embarrassment. Christopher hugged her close, then assisted her onto the bench. She worried that her wedding gown would be snagged by the wood, but someone had thoughtfully put a small covering on her seat. Her bustle neatly collapsed as she took her place. Deborah carefully arranged the skirt of her gown to allow Christopher room to sit at her side.

The party spirit grew as the minutes passed by. Zed Perkins shared stories about his wedding day, including his last-minute stop on the way to the church to shoot a ten-point buck.

“Grandest deer you ever saw,” he said, laughing. “ ’Course, I doubt Rachel saw it the same way. She was less than impressed when I told her we’d be cleaning it later that night.”

“How awful, Zed,” Mother said, shaking her head. “That’s no way to treat your bride.”

“Well, as luck would have it, our friends took pity on me,” Zed replied. “They told me they’d gut it and hang it, in return for a dance with Rachel. Of course, I complied.”

“He knew better than not to,” Rachel countered. “Otherwise, that deer would have been his only companion that night.”

Laughter filled the air, and Deborah said, “I was afraid my new husband would be off delivering babies or setting bones.”

“The day’s still young,” her uncle declared. “You can never tell what might happen.”

Jake had taken his time lumbering down the road to town, planning in his mind exactly what he would say in the telegram. He didn’t have a lot of ready cash, so it would have to be short, but he wanted to apologize and let them know that he wished to come back to live with them. Of course, there was the possibility that his folks wouldn’t want him to come to California. They might hold him a grudge.

Jake shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the fear. He wouldn’t know the truth until he sent the telegram and heard back from his folks. It didn’t make sense to give credence to such ideas before their time.

A sound caught his attention and he paused at the side of the road. Riders were approaching. A good many riders, from the sound of it. They were headed north toward the Vandermarks’. He didn’t know why, but something told him to head back into the woods. He slipped behind several hardwoods and waited to see what was going on.

The sound grew louder and now he could hear voices. Horses and riders came into view, and Jake’s blood ran cold at the sight of them. Flour or gunny sacks covered every head. Holes had been cut out for the eyes, but otherwise, nothing hinted as to who they were. There wasn’t any need. Jake clearly recognized the uniform of the White Hand of God.

The horses slowed as the man in the lead held up his hands. “Reload. We don’t wanna get caught on empty chambers.”

The men allowed the horses to walk on at a slow pace while they loaded their pistols and rifles. Jake walked quietly through the trees, pacing the riders—backtracking toward the Vandermark place. He had to strain to make out what they were saying.

Jake edged back toward the road to see if he could figure out how many there were. Looked to be at least fifteen, and the one in front appeared to be the leader.

“You done good back there, boys. Now we’ll take care of this last little bit of business and head home.”

“I heard there was a weddin’ goin’ on at their place,” someone said.

“I heard that, too,” the leader answered. “I figure it’s the best place to lay down the law. Every white man and woman in the area ’ceptin’ us is gathered there to watch that Vandermark gal get hitched. I figure it makes the job all the easier. We go there and tell them all how it’s gonna be. I don’t wanna hurt no white man, but I guarantee we’ll get their attention. Sometimes you have to discipline a wayward child.”

That was all Jake needed to hear. He knew that if the men moved into a full gallop he’d never be able to reach the Vandermarks first. Unconcerned with whether the men heard him, Jake lit out through the forest, praying that they would be far too consumed by their plans to even notice him.

He felt a burning in his legs but pressed on. His lungs were aching from the exertion of running, but Jake couldn’t slow. He knew if he did, the others would reach Deborah first. He saw the cutoff that would bring him around to the railroad tracks and decided to take it. The horses and riders would no doubt stick to the main road. The Vandermark place was more easily reached that way on horseback. Jake angled off toward the tracks, and only when he was certain the road was clear of any possible observer did he dare to dash across the open path.

Plunging into the woods that ran alongside the tracks, Jake was grateful that the forest ground had been burned off earlier in the year. The distance was fairly easy to cover, and he knew he’d soon approach the Vandermarks’ southern property line.

All he could think of was that those men meant to cause harm. Harm to Deborah and anyone else who got in their way. He prayed, pleading with God to protect the woman he loved and the family and friends she cherished.

He was completely exhausted by the time he reached the clearing. Jake could hear the laughter and joy of the celebrators. They would, no doubt, be surprised by his intrusion, but they’d be grateful, too.

The guests were sitting at tables, enjoying dinner, and waiting for Rob to cut a large cake, when Jake stumbled out across the yard. G.W. and Arjan were first to get to their feet, but it didn’t take long for the others to gather round him.

“Riders . . . White Hand riders . . . comin’ this way.” He gasped for air and Arjan directed Rob to bring water. He dropped the knife and grabbed a pitcher.

“Take it easy, son. Get your wind and then tell us what’s goin’ on,” Arjan instructed.

“No. No time. Riders comin’.” Jake pointed toward the road. “There’s . . . gonna . . . be trouble.”

He sank to his knees and took the water Rob offered him. Gulping it down, Jake struggled to control his breathing. They didn’t understand. They just stood there, looking at him like he was crazy.

Just then, however, the sound of horses moving in at a full gallop drew G.W.’s attention. “He’s right—someone’s coming.”

“They’re armed,” Jake said, getting back on his feet.

“Well, we can be, too,” G.W. said, running for the side of the house. “Christopher! Rob! Help me out.”

The men bounded up the porch stairs. Arjan motioned to Deborah and her mother. “Nell, you and Deborah get the women and children inside.”

But it was too late. The first of the riders could be seen on the road, and that was when guns started blazing. Jake did the only thing he could. He ran for Deborah and put himself between her and the gunmen.

Deborah could scarcely believe what was happening. The riders stormed the yard like soldiers taking a battlefield. Jake shoved her behind him, but she couldn’t register the words he was saying over his shoulder. Shock made her deaf and nearly void of rational thought.

The riders circled them, upsetting the tables of food. They fired their guns into the air, and one particularly large man cocked the hammers of his shotgun as he aimed at the wedding cake Mara had made. Cake and sugared roses splattered out across the yard.

Deborah turned slightly to see her mother forcing the younger children and Lizzie into the house. There was no hope of making it there herself. She wondered where Christopher was—if he would know to sneak around from the back of the house rather than rush out through the front door. He would be worried about her, just as she was concerned about him.

Calm yourself. Calm down, or you’ll be no use to anyone. G.W. and Rob will help him
.