Love Finds You in Groom, Texas (27 page)

“That’s putting it mildly,” Emily muttered. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to pattern a character after someone who refuses to share valuable information?”

“Emily, it sounds like Uncle Bertrand needs his privacy, not your nosing in.”

“Oh, pooh.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Anyway, when we arrived back at the house, he made Kate and I promise once more that we would never speak her name in his presence. And Maggie…” Emily giggled. “Oh, she’s a hoot. She makes me laugh so much.”

“What did she do?”

They all looked Maggie’s way.

“Well, the man wouldn’t talk to me about it, so I decided to do the only thing that made sense. I cooked him the biggest lunch you ever saw.”

“And when she was serving it, she told him that he was better off without such a skinny woman. Told him that Cornelia Witherspoon was liable to be picked up with the next wind and floated across the county.” Emily roared with laughter. “She called her by name too.”

“Heavens.” Anne fanned herself. “I’m glad I missed this.”

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Maggie said. “Someone needs to knock some sense into that man. Might as well be me.”

“Today was almost as much fun as that time we went to the theater in Denver.” Emily pushed back her plate and leaned her elbows on the table. “I felt like I was watching a scene unfold right in front of my eyes. And it’s given me such glorious ideas to add to my book. I can’t wait to get started.” She scooted her chair away from the table. “May I be excused, Maggie? I want to add Chief Warbonnet to my story before I forget the details.”

“You may.”

“Me too?” Kate asked.

“You too.” Maggie rose from the table, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. She took to whistling a happy tune while clearing the table. “I’m glad everyone had such a nice day, but I think we’d better turn in early tonight. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and I’m worn out.”

She made quick work of filling the sink with water.

“Let us take care of the dishes tonight, Maggie.” Anne took the dishrag away from her. “You’ve had a long day, and I feel like helping.”

“Well, thank you, honey.”

Anne began scrubbing the dishes. Jake stood beside her with a dish towel in his hand, chatting up a storm and drying the dishes she passed his way. Maggie stood off to the side, her eyes wide.

“Everything all right, Maggie?” Anne asked at last.

“In the twenty-two years that Jake O’Farrell has been alive on this earth, I’ve never seen him dry a dish.” Maggie shook her head. “I’m not sure my heart can take it.”

He raised the dish towel as if ready to hand it to her. Maggie put her hands up in the air. “No, sir. You’re doing a fine job. Mighty fine. Just go on with you. I’ll put myself to bed. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Me too.” Anne released a yawn as she washed the last plate.

Jake looked her way and chuckled. “Hardly.”

Just one word, but it made her night.

Chapter Twenty

I don’t want to say that Texans are prone to exaggeration, but I’ve heard quite a few tall tales in my day. Sure, folks tell ’em like they’re gospel truth, but that’s because the stories have been around so long that they feel like they are. Likely you’ve heard the tales of Pecos Bill and his woolly ways. Then there’s “Bigfoot” Wallace, the roughest, toughest Texas Ranger to ride west of the Pecos. Yep, we’ve become skilled in the art of exaggeration. A true Texan knows how to spin a good yarn and then wrap you in it until you’re cozy enough to actually believe it’s true. —
“Tex” Morgan, reporting for the
Panhandle Primer

On Friday morning all the O’Farrell ladies met to put together the flowers for the wedding. Jake joined them, looking a bit like a fish out of water in the presence of so many females. Anne led the way, giving instructions and thoroughly enjoying the process. The conversation in the room was energetic and loaded with fun. At one point, she realized this could be one of the last times she might be in this room with all these people. Just as quickly, she chided herself.
Enjoy the moment. Don’t grieve tomorrow’s unvisited woes.

She found the internal prompting far more doable with Jake in the room. Every now and again she caught him looking her way. In those moments, she remembered the feel of his hand in hers…could almost hear the conversations they’d shared out on the open fields of the family’s ranch. And then someone in the room would call out to her for assistance and she would rush their way.

By eleven o’clock the garlands were complete and on their way to the coolness of the cellar. After a light lunch, Anne spent some time finalizing the details for the wedding and then walked to the schoolhouse to meet Virginia’s parents for the first time. She felt at ease with Virginia’s mother right away.

After they had talked through the wedding plans, Mrs. Harrison changed the direction of the conversation. “Anne, did you work as a wedding coordinator in Denver?”

“Oh no. I just volunteered my time at several charities and such.”

“Well, it certainly paid off. These plans you’ve laid out for my daughter’s big day are wonderful. I daresay you could open your own wedding business when this is over.”

Her heart quickened. What a glorious idea. “Do you really think so?”

“Why not?” Mrs. Harrison patted her on the arm. “Promise me you will pray about it.”

“Oh, I will.”

“In the meantime, please accept my most sincere thanks. You’ve worked so hard to make sure my daughter’s wedding is special. I wish there was some way to bless you. I do wonder…” She paused. “I don’t want to offend in any way, but I wonder if you might be willing to accept some compensation for your work.”

“Compensation?” Anne could scarcely believe her ears. Someone was offering her money? “I—I don’t know.”

“Think about it, my dear.” Mrs. Harrison reached over and touched her hand. “Because my husband and I would like to bless you before you leave town.”

When their meeting ended, Anne made the walk from the schoolhouse to O’Farrell’s Honor, deep in thought about Mrs. Harrison’s offer. Could she really accept compensation for her time and efforts? And could she really give thought to helping other brides prepare for their big day?

By the time she arrived at the house, Anne realized she’d actually spent an entire day not thinking about moving to Dallas. She’d had so many other wonderful things on her mind, after all.

She walked inside and was surprised to find the entire family present—all of Maggie’s children and grandchildren as well as Uncle Bertrand and her sisters.

“We decided to have a special dinner to honor you, Anne,” Maggie said. “You’ve given of yourself tirelessly all week, and we felt you deserved a special meal. Besides…” Maggie’s eyes misted over. “You’ll only be with us a few more days and we’ll be so busy with the wedding. I just want to make sure we have some special time with you before you go.” Maggie shot a glance at Uncle Bertrand, and he shifted his gaze to the table.

“Maggie, I hardly know what to say.” Anne gave her a tight hug and soon found herself swallowed up by Maggie’s ample bosom.

“Guess what I made,” Maggie said, when she finally released her hold on Anne.

“Smells familiar.” Anne paused to think then snapped her fingers. “Oh, my new favorite. Chicken-fried steak?”

“That’s right. And guess who helped me?”

Emily and Kate raised their hands. Then, strangely, so did Uncle Bertrand. Heavens. Anne almost felt faint.

She washed up then took her place at the table in the spot across from Jake. Most of the smaller children were shooed to the children’s table in the little room off the kitchen, but Emily remained with the grown-ups.

After they were seated, Maggie looked at Uncle Bertrand. “Bert, would you do us the honor of praying over the meal?”

Bert?

As he bowed his head and prayed, Anne had the strangest memory creep over her. Last Thanksgiving, Papa had bowed his head to pray over their meal. It was the last time she remembered seeing him in decent form. Uncle Bertrand’s voice, though slightly deeper, suddenly reminded her of Papa’s, and it startled her.

“Anne, are you all right? The prayer is over now.”

Anne glanced at Emily, who gave her a perplexed look. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Thinking is good,” Maggie said as she reached for the platter of steak. “I highly recommend it.”

“I tried going without it once,” Jake said. “The consequences were not good.”

Everyone laughed.

The next few minutes were spent filling plates and eating. The clinking of silverware against plates filled the room along with laughter and joyous conversation. At one point, Anne closed her eyes just for a moment, to commit it all to memory. All too soon it would be gone. For now, however, she’d made up her mind to enjoy every last moment.

Jake was happy to be sitting across the table from Anne. Though he enjoyed being next to her—and holding her hand—there was something about watching the sparkle in her eyes when she told a story that held him spellbound.

She shared a great story about an opera production she’d seen as a child, and it had everyone in stitches.

As soon as she finished, Emily got everyone’s attention. “I have a story too. Did you know that I used to sing and dance in a vaudeville show?”

For a half second, Jake almost believed it. Until he glanced across the table and saw the stunned look on Anne’s face.

“You did?” Jake shook his head. “I can’t believe Anne never mentioned it. Vaudeville, of all things.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Anne is so stuck-up. She doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“Well, for pity’s sake.” Across the table, Anne dropped her fork and stared at Emily like she’d lost her marbles.

“My stage name was Esmeralda and I did the best song-and-dance number you’ve ever seen.”

“I suppose you’re going to show us your song-and-dance number?” Jake said.

“If you like.” Emily began to sing “Camptown Races” at the top of her lungs. Unfortunately, her singing voice left something to be desired. What she lacked in vocal quality, however, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. After a few minutes of singing, her toes got to tapping, and before long she was dancing a little jig across the kitchen. She finished the dance and dropped into her chair, clearly exhausted. Everyone gave her a round of applause. Well, everyone but Anne, who still looked upset.

“You’re quite a performer,” Jake said. “It’s hard to believe you left your life on the stage for academic pursuits. Must have been a huge sacrifice on your part.”

“Oh, it was…but I had to. I had no other choice. I am called to write, so I traded one art form for the other. No longer will I bring characters to life in front of an audience. From this point forth, they will forever live on the page, not the stage.”

“Amazing.” Milly took a bite of her mashed potatoes.

“I can hardly believe such a talent in one so young,” Pauline threw in.

“Yes, you must tell us where you’re performing next so we can come see the show,” Cora added.

“I’m performing in Paris,” Emily said. “I’ve already been there plenty of times and will be going back next spring to dance in the Follies.”

“Gracious.” Maggie used her napkin to dab her mouth. “You really are something, aren’t you, child?”

“She’s something all right.” Anne stared at her little sister, shaking her head. “Emily Marie Denning. Why in the world are you telling these lies?”

“They’re not lies; they’re stories. There’s a difference.”

Anne now spoke to the others. “Honestly, folks, I don’t know where she comes up with this. I really don’t.” She turned her attention back to her sister. “Emily, you’ve never been out of Colorado till now, let alone halfway across the world. How do you think up such nonsensical things to say?”

“You’re just jealous because Papa took me and you didn’t get to go.” Emily shook her head, a defiant look registering on her once-innocent face. She plastered on a smile and turned to Jake. “Our papa was in Paris on business and took me along so I could perform. He was a famous businessman, you know. He owned a newspaper in Denver and Paris. I used to write stories for him all the time.”