Spring Creek Bride (18 page)

M
ick did his best to hide a smile as Mr. Mueller crossed the room ahead of him. He sensed Ida’s gaze, but didn’t look her in the eye, afraid he would give away too much. Instead, he turned his attention to Dinah and Johnsey, asking for a private conversation outside. With Reverend Langford, of course.

After curious glances from Ida, the four headed out to the boardwalk, where Mick gave Johnsey a slap on the back, nearly losing a crutch in the process. He congratulated the happy couple on their engagement.

Then he got down to business. If he could talk the soon-to-be newlyweds into working with him, the final piece to the puzzle would be firmly locked into place.

With anticipation building, Mick turned to Dinah and the questions began.

“Whatever are they doing out there?” Ida paced the floor in front of the register.

Nellie, who had come bounding down the stairs
at the earlier uproar, shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue, but if Reverend Langford is involved, it can’t be bad.”

“I don’t know.” Ida allowed herself a brief glimpse outside. Mick and Johnsey exchanged a firm handshake, and the reverend looked on with a smile. What shenanigans did they have up their sleeves?

Her question was answered in short order, at least in part. They all entered the store and Dinah cleared her throat, garnering the attention of everyone present.

“We’re going to close up shop for a few minutes.”

“Excuse me?” Ida gave her a curious look. “In the middle of the day?”

Johnsey nodded. “It’s all right. We will return soon. Ida, will you come with us?”

Ida looked back and forth between Mick—whose eyes twinkled merrily—and Dinah, who maintained a straight face. None of this made any sense at all.

Tagging along behind them, Ida made her way out to the boardwalk, half the town of Spring Creek now following. Her heart thumped in anticipation as Mick made his way toward the empty lot.

Sure enough, they stopped directly in front of his property, and he turned to her with a smile on his face. Her heart melted at once, even before he spoke a word.

Mick signaled for her to join him at the front of the crowd. He gently took her hand and gave her a wink. “You’re probably wondering what all of this is about.”

“I am.”

“Well, I don’t blame you. But let me put any fears
to rest. I am not now—nor ever, for that matter—building a gambling hall.”

A wave of relief flooded Ida’s soul. She nodded, doing her best not to cry at the news.

“I wanted to tell you yesterday, but didn’t have the chance. I’ve had an idea brewing for a few days now, one I think—I hope—you will approve of.”

“What sort of idea?”

“Let me ask you a question first. What do you think of when you hear the words
German sausage sauerkraut balls?
”

“My kitchen? The workers I feed every day?” Ida said.

He nodded. “And when you hear the words
Wiener schnitzel?
”

Ida couldn’t help but smile as she responded. “Something I’m known for around these parts?”

“Yes, you are known for your cooking,” he said. “And I knew from the minute I tasted your food that you needed your own place to cook for others.”

She stared at the property, absorbing his meaning. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying that you’re looking at the property for Ida’s, the newest restaurant in town, one that’s going to rival The Harvey House and any other place that dares to call itself an eating establishment. One that—with all of us pitching in—will turn a nice profit.”

A boyish grin spread across his face. “This will be a place the locals and railroad men alike can call their own. What do you think about that, Miss Mueller?”

Ida felt her cheeks warm as she turned to face him with a smile. “Are you serious, Mick? Because if you’re teasing me…”

“I can assure you, he is quite serious,” Reverend Langford interrupted. “This is a man who refuses to put his boots in the oven.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He’s trying to say that I was never meant to be a gambling-hall owner,” Mick said. “And that I’m not the man I used to be.” As if to prove the point, Mick pointed to his feet. Ida stared at the worn cowboy boots.

“Where in the world did you get those?” she whispered.

“Reverend Langford brought them over. Told me to try ’em on for size. To plant my feet in Texas soil and stay put. So I think I’ll do just that.”

“A new man needs a new pair of boots,” the reverend added, giving Mick a slap on the back.

Mick turned to face Ida and her heart quickened. “There’s not a thing about me that’s the same,” he explained. “I can tell you more about that later, but you’ve got to trust me when I say that I’ve crossed over into the Promised Land, and I want you right there with me, by my side.” After staring into her eyes for a few seconds, he added, “What do you say?”

“I’m overcome.” She shifted her gaze, afraid the tears would come. “The restaurant is a marvelous idea, and I’m so grateful, but…”

“But?”

“But what about the mercantile? Who’s going to help Dinah?”

“As quick as she’ll marry me, I’ll be there,” Johnsey said.

“I’ll do whatever you need,” Sophie called from the back of the crowd. The sight of her best friend overwhelmed Ida as she thought of their recent conversation.

“I’ll go on helping, too,” Nellie added. “At the mercantile or the restaurant.”

“Don’t fret, Ida,” Dinah encouraged with a smile. “Chase after your dream.”

“My dream?” Ida looked at the burned-out lot for a few seconds. She’d always been most comfortable in the kitchen, but how had Mick known? He’d rarely seen her in that role, after all. Did he know her heart even better than she did?

She turned back to him. “I can’t do something of this magnitude on my own,” she whispered.

He pulled her close. “Exactly. Which is why I’m going to manage the restaurant. I’m going to walk right next to you every step of the way.”

“You are?”

“Sure. I’ve had a few years of experience. In a different field, of course, but still.”

The gathered crowd laughed. She looked up into his eyes—warm, loving eyes. Eyes that convinced her this was a man to be trusted. A man who refused to put his boots—new or otherwise—in the oven. Whatever that meant.

Another familiar voice rang out from the back of the crowd. “What’s all this I hear about a new restaurant?”

Myrtle Mae.

The older woman pushed her way to the front of the group, and Ida smiled as she noticed her father also standing nearby.

“There you are, girl. Come here and give me a hug,” Myrtle Mae said.

After a slight chuckle, Mick released his hold on Ida and she eased her way in Myrtle Mae’s direction.

“Now, here’s what we’re going to do.” Myrtle Mae looked at the lot with a wrinkled brow. “Do you think you can handle the breakfast crowd by yourself?”

“With a little help from Nellie, maybe.”

“Good girl.” Myrtle Mae’s voice was all business. “Then I’ll take care of the lumber-mill workers until noon. After that I’ll come to town to help you. Together we’ll whip out some of the best meals folks around these-here parts have ever tasted.”

“Are you sure?” Ida could scarcely believe it. To have Myrtle Mae working for her would be an answer to prayer. “But what about your job at The Harvey House? And what about you, Papa? Won’t you need her at home?”

“I will come to town for my evening meals,” he said. “That way I’ll get the best of both worlds.”

“And don’t let me hear you mentioning The Harvey House again,” Myrtle Mae said with a scolding look on her face. “They’re our competition now.” Ida grinned at Myrtle Mae and thanked her with all her heart.

Ida made her way back to Mick and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing gentle kisses into her hair. She felt him take a deep breath.

“Will you be mine, Ida? Will you take me, broken as I am?”

Ida’s heart swelled with joy and she reached up, touching his cheek, whispering, “Broken no more.”

M
ick paced the aisle of the church, ready to get the day’s events under way. He looked over the congregation, smiling at those who’d come out to offer their support—again. The past couple of months, the townspeople had rushed to help build the new restaurant, offering support of every kind.

He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about how happy his bride-to-be looked each morning as she prepared breakfast. How she smiled as folks complimented her favorite dishes. What a success the place had become, and how they’d celebrated together when Mick was able to send his investors their payment in full.

Yes, the good people of Spring Creek were certainly more than friends. They were his staunchest supporters, his prayer partners and his family.

Most of them, anyway. To date, the sheriff hadn’t been able to get the necessary witnesses to come forward regarding Mick’s attack, but Mick had re
conciled himself to that fact. As Ida so often said, “Justice is in the hands of the Lord.” He’d wanted to take it into his own hands a time or two, but the Almighty had somehow given him peace in the middle of that storm.

“What do you suppose is taking so long?” he asked the reverend.

His good friend let out a laugh, one that echoed across the crowded room. “Taking so long?” He slapped Mick on the back. “I’ve performed over thirty weddings and they always run late, even with only one bride involved. But three?” He pulled out his pocket watch and took a look. “I’d say we’re doing well if we get this shindig started by one o’clock.”

Mick let out a groan. This was supposed to be a noon affair, with a huge meal following. If they didn’t get things started—and soon—the flowers would be wilted and the food ruined.

He turned to the two other grooms. From what Mick could tell, Dirk appeared the most anxious. He occasionally pulled out his watch for a cursory glance, but most of his time was spent staring at the double doors in anticipation.

Johnsey remained calm, greeting guests and making small talk. As the minutes ticked by, he eventually made his way up the aisle to the front of the church, where he took a seat next to his father and Emma Gertsch. Interesting, how the two had been spending so much time together.

No, Mick wouldn’t think about anyone else’s love life today but his own.

And Johnsey’s.

And Dirk’s.

Now, if they could just locate their brides, they’d have a wedding—one the folks in Spring Creek, Texas, wouldn’t soon forget.

“Are you almost ready?”

Ida looked up as she heard Sophie’s voice. “Nearly. I’m just trying to get these wayward hairs tucked away.” She fidgeted with her up-do, adjusted her veil and pinched her cheeks to give them a rosy appearance. Turning back to her friend, she asked, “How do I look? And be perfectly honest.”

“Honestly, Ida. You’re the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen.”

Ida took her by the hand. “Bless you for that.”

From the back of the room, Myrtle Mae cleared her throat. Loudly. Turning to her, Sophie chuckled then added, “You are an exquisite bride, as well, Myrtle Mae.” She then turned her attentions to Dinah, who stood in front of the mirror, fussing with her delicate pearl necklace. With a smile, Sophie said, “Dinah, you are absolutely beautiful in that dress.”

Dinah made a graceful turn, showing off the gown that Emma Gertsch had sewn by hand. “I can’t believe I actually own a dress I didn’t make myself.”

“Yes, but look at the great sacrifice on your part. You had to promise Emma a lifetime supply of dime novels in exchange for her work.”

Everyone erupted in laughter, and for a moment, all nerves were set aside.

“We are late, ladies. Likely our menfolk are getting anxious,” Ida said.

“I don’t know about yours,” Myrtle Mae said as she moved toward the door of the tiny classroom, “but my man is probably having a fit by now.”

“Well, of course he is.” Ida drew near and gave her mother-to-be a kiss on the cheek. “This is going to be the happiest day of his life.”

“Aw, don’t make me cry, Ida.” Myrtle Mae glanced in the mirror one last time at her reflection. “I’ve already done the best I could with what God gave me. I don’t want red-rimmed eyes to spoil the effect.”

“Nothing could spoil the effect,” Dinah added. “You look radiant.”

Nellie, who stood nearby holding the bridal bouquets, let out a little sniffle. “This is such a happy day!”

All the ladies gathered together in a hug, smiles on every face. Ida looked at her aunt and Myrtle Mae with a full heart. Together they made their way to the back doors of the church. From inside, Ida heard the familiar strains of the wedding march. Reverend Langford’s wife wasn’t half-bad on the piano, though Myrtle Mae might disagree. And the dear woman had been practicing for months in preparation for this special day.

“Are you ready?” Dinah whispered, giving Ida’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Ida gave a nod and the doors swung wide. Nellie and Sophie—the loveliest of bridesmaids—made their entrance first, fall flowers in hand. Myrtle Mae followed, her wide girth even wider with her full skirt swishing this way and that. Then it was Dinah’s turn. She turned to give Ida one last loving glance before heading off to meet her man.

Ida watched it all with hands trembling. Up at the front of the church, she caught her first glimpse of Mick. He stood tall and straight in his suit, crutches no longer necessary. On his feet, as always now, the worn cowboy boots. On his face, an anxious smile.

As their eyes met from across the crowded room, Ida’s heart raced in anticipation. She’d no sooner taken her first step toward him than Dinah’s words, spoken months earlier, came rushing back at her. ‘
I predict you will one day look a man directly in the eye—and slapping him will be the furthest thing from your mind.”

A smile played at the edges of Ida’s lips. Yes, she had to conclude. Looking at her Mick from where she now stood, watching the twinkle in those smoky gray eyes, slapping him was indeed the very last thing on her mind.