Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas (33 page)

“No doubt in mine, either.” Georg gazed into her eyes with such tenderness that she thought her heart might burst. “I can honestly say I have never been more content.”

“Me either.”

They sat in silence for a period of time, listening to the sound of the water running over the rocks. “Tell me about the wedding plans,” Georg said finally.

“Well, after waiting such a long time, it needs to be a celebration no one will soon forget, don’t you think?” Belinda looked at him with a coy smile.

“I do.”

“Memorize those words,” she said, with a hint of laughter in her voice. “You’ll be needing them again.”

Georg chuckled.

“You know, I’ve had a revelation of sorts, Georg,” Belinda said, growing quite serious. “All this time, I wanted to make Poetry a place of great beauty. Wanted it to rival the big towns. In the end, it
has
become more beautiful, but you know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think the Lord’s real work wasn’t in the town.” She grinned just thinking about it. “It was inside of me. In my heart.”

“And in mine, as well.” Georg took her by the hand. “Not that I’m unhappy with the way the town is turning out. Things are buzzing along in Poetry, and it’s all for the good.”

“And all the better when the opera house is finished next month.” Belinda nodded, anxious to see it finished. Suddenly an idea came to her. “Oh, Georg! That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“The opera house!”

“What about it?”

“Why, it’s the perfect place for a wedding. We can fit the whole town inside. And our wedding will be the first performance on the big stage. What do you say?”

He appeared to ponder the idea. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “I think we’ve had a fairly theatrical run thus far, so it makes sense. And you know Sarah Jo will love it. She will want to arrange the whole thing.”

“And we will let her.” Belinda paused then laughed. “To a point.”

“Yes, please. Only to a point.” Georg grinned. “She tends to run a bit on the eccentric side, wouldn’t you say?”

“She does, but you have to love her.”

“Yes, I do. The Bible says so.” He gave Belinda a playful kiss. “So tell me more about this theatrical wedding of ours.”

With joy filling her heart, she turned to him and did just that.

Georg leaned back in the grass, listening to Belinda’s ideas. Every one felt right. Perfect for the two of them. They needed something special, something out of the norm. And no one could deny that getting married on the stage of the opera house would be memorable. If anyone deserved a special wedding day, it was the one woman who’d worked so hard to bring others together...in her own mismatch-making sort of way.

On and on she talked about their beautiful Christmas ceremony. Georg listened thoughtfully, chiming in when the opportunity arose. Most of all, though, he just loved listening to the sound of her voice. It rivaled the water running over the rocks in the creek below. And the excitement in her voice. Nothing could stir his heart quite as much.

Oh, Lord, my heart is so full. So full.

He closed his eyes, suddenly overcome. As he did, a memory overtook him. That day in Peter’s office...he’d poured out his heart about Belinda. Told Peter every intimate detail. The things that took his breath away. The things that tormented him. The things that brought him joy.

Why had he shared these things again? So that Peter could compose a love poem. A love poem that, to this day, still remained unwritten.

In that moment, Georg decided to put together a verse for Belinda on his own. Why, with such love pouring from his heart, it would surely come as naturally as the water traveling across the rocks below. Indeed, it sprang from the very depths of his being.

Suddenly, Georg could hardly wait to look for pen and paper.

On the crisp, cold morning of December 14 Belinda prepared herself for her wedding, paying particular attention to her long, blond hair. The house was a flurry of activity, for she was not the only one dressing for this event. No, the many young women who would stand up with her had all come to help, each decked out in blue dresses crafted by Cassie. The town of Poetry had never seen so many matrons of honor.

Belinda smiled as Greta showed off her gown. Then she turned her attention to Corabelle, who, in spite of her expanding midsection, had agreed to be in the wedding as well. Prissy was next, followed by Adeline, Cassie, and Katie Sue.

Marta and Sarah Jo fussed over the bridesmaids and offered their help to Belinda’s mother, who seemed a bit frazzled. Finally, when all of the girls were ready, Belinda put on the white gown Cassie had made especially for today.

“Oh, Belinda!” Sarah Jo drew near with tears in her eyes. “You are the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen.”

“Better guard your flattery,” Belinda whispered with a chuckle. “You’re saying that in front of a room full of recent brides, you know.”

“Oh, posh.” Sarah Jo waved a hand then dabbed at her eyes. “I told the others the same thing on their wedding days. No one cares.”

Mama entered the room and gasped as she clamped eyes on Belinda. Her tears started almost immediately. They stood together, facing the long mirror. Belinda stared at her reflection, hardly believing the transformation. Surely her tomboyish ways were behind her now. The woman staring back at her was sophisticated. Refined. Very ladylike, indeed. Hopefully Georg would agree.

Georg.

The moment his name flitted through her mind, Belinda’s heart came alive. She could hardly wait to get to the opera house, to walk the aisle and land in his arms.

Minutes later, Papa called for the girls to come to the wagon. They climbed underneath a half dozen quilts and made the journey to the south end of town, becoming the center of attention as the decorated wagon made its way down the street. Folks cheered all the way, many falling in line behind the wagon and walking the short distance to the opera house. All in all, it was quite a production, though the real show would take place inside. There, amidst a beautiful scenic backdrop of Christmas trees and twinkling candles, Belinda and Georg would exchange their vows. Then the whole town of Poetry would celebrate together with cake and punch. Katie Sue assured her the cake was the best she’d ever made.

When they arrived, Belinda and the other women made their way to a room on the side of the theater. Once there, she gathered her friends together and waited for their cue to enter the opera house. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the activity going on in the auditorium. Surely by now most everyone was seated. Sarah Jo would take her place at the piano, and the girls would walk up the aisle. Then, that magical moment she had waited for would take place at last. She would take Georg’s hand...and his heart...as her own.

Georg stood backstage at the opera house with his groomsmen. He’d never seen the menfolk of Poetry so done up outside of a Sunday morning service. Georg took a final look at himself in the mirror, checking his hair for the hundredth time.

“She’s going to marry you even if every hair isn’t in place,” his father said, slapping him on the back. “But just so you know, you look dashing.”

“Thank you.” Georg embraced his father. “I can’t believe this day is finally here. I’m so excited.”

“Have you seen the inside of the opera house?” his father said. “The ladies did a wonderful job of decorating it this morning. Looks like Christmas all over the place in there. Candles, trees, you name it. And that setup on the stage is pretty incredible. There’s a hand-painted backdrop. Looks like something from a big city Christmas production.”

“We have Sarah Jo to thank for that.” Georg’s heart swelled as he thought about the outpouring of love and support that he and Belinda had received from the community, particularly from those most recently wed.

Peter stuck his head in the door. “Georg, you almost ready? Sarah Jo is sitting at the piano. Listen for ‘Joy to the World.’ That’s your cue.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Georg said with a smile.

Peter took a step into the room and drew near Georg, brushing off the back of the groom’s jacket. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that day in my office when we talked about poetry.”

“That’s funny.” Georg gave him an inquisitive look. “So have I.”

“Well, I shared some of my thoughts with you that day,” Peter said. “But I left out the most important thing. Perhaps it will be of some benefit to you today.”

“What’s that?”

“I have heard it said, and have often said myself, that the best poetry is not always written with words.”

“What do you mean?” Georg asked.

“I mean, our lives are the greatest stories we will ever write. And if we write them well, others will read those stories and learn from the things we’ve done. How we’ve lived. How we’ve treated others. It’s all in there.”

“Ah.”

Peter nodded. “Georg, I want you to know, your life is an amazing poem. You and the Lord have written it well. Your story isn’t ending today. It’s just beginning a new stanza, a fresh verse. And I have a feeling the lines left to be written are going to be even better than the ones you’ve already experienced.”

“There’s a scripture that says the same thing,” Reverend Billingsley said, entering the room. “It’s found in Haggai chapter two, verse nine, to be precise. ‘The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of the former, saith the Lord of hosts: and in this place will I give peace, saith the Lord of hosts.’ ”

Georg gave him a curious look, not quite understanding his full meaning.

“The latter things are greater than the former things,” the reverend explained. “The best is yet to come, my friend.”

“Well, amen to that,” Georg said. “The past has been really good, so I can only imagine how wonderful the future will be.”

In that moment, the familiar melody of “Joy to the World” rang out. Georg gathered his groomsmen and began to make his way onto the stage. From there, he would have the best view in the house when Belinda, his beautiful bride-to-be, made her way down the aisle.

He slipped a hand into his pocket, checking to make sure the poem was still there. Breathing a sigh of relief, he entered the stage and gasped as he took in the magnificence of the room.
Oh, Lord, who has a wedding in such a place? This is breathtaking.
He stood center stage with the reverend and Mayor Mueller, who had agreed to share the honor of performing the ceremony. His groomsmen took their places to his left.

The back door of the theater opened, and the first matron of honor entered. Cassie made her way up the aisle and onto the stage. She was followed in steady succession by most of the town’s most recent brides, one after the other. Georg did his best to stifle the laughter that threatened to creep up. He’d never seen so many brides converge upon a place in all his born days.

Oh, but the best was yet to come!

As Belinda appeared at the back of the room on her father’s arm, his breath caught in his throat. Nothing could compare to the sight of her in that white dress. Georg whispered a prayer of thanks to the Lord and then waited with anticipation for his bride, the one he loved more than life itself.