A Love of Her Own (37 page)
Excitement shot through her at the possibility. She felt nearly breathless.
“I’ve talked to the reverend, and it’s all set if you’ll agree. The mayor said we can use the gazebo with the decorations and the band. There’s plenty of food, and all of our friends are present. You can’t beat that. I even made reservations tonight at the Day House Hotel in town!” Wes’s face blotched red. “I hate wasting time when I love you and you love me. What do you say?” He squirmed on his bent knee. “Hurry, my leg is going numb,” he said with a half smile.
She hesitated, remembering the big wedding she and her mother had planned four years ago, and the shadow it had left over her when Luke called it off. Did she really want to go through that again? She knew she didn’t. What was the point of waiting? Wes was right. But she wished Josh and Juliana were back from their honeymoon. She chewed her bottom lip. “I just might consider it, if Josh were here . . .”
A movement from behind caused her to turn, and she gasped when she saw her beloved brother walking toward her with Juliana a few steps behind him. “Josh! You’re back!”
“I am, little sister,” he answered as he reached and gave her a bear hug. “And I’m here to give your hand in marriage to Wes with my most hearty approval!”
April felt tears well up in her eyes, and she pulled away from Josh’s embrace, looking him straight in the eye. “But . . . you’ve been away! How did you know he was even going to ask me?” April swung a look from Josh to Wes with an arched brow, thoroughly confused now. First an offer of marriage, then Josh back from his honeymoon and she didn’t know it? How could that be?
Josh clapped Wes on his back. “We got back on Friday but went straight to the ranch and found Wes waiting there for us on the porch.” Wes, still kneeling in the thick grass, smiled sheepishly at April. Josh continued. “Wes told me about his plan to ask you to marry him today and said he needed my help.”
April took a teasing swipe at her brother with her reticule, and he feigned hurt. “You’ve been home and I didn’t know?” she asked. It was hard to be mad at Josh when he was grinning broadly at her, giving her his sweetest brotherly look that had always caused her to give in when they were children.
Juliana timidly approached April, then stood next to Josh, who clasped her hand. Her beautiful blue eyes shone in her lovely face, and April thought they made a handsome couple. “April, it was the only way we could keep it from you. We decided not to come to town until today or Josh would’ve spoiled all the fun. It was hard for him to keep a secret,” she said with a cheerful giggle.
“Wes is a good man, April, and I believe you’ve finally met your match.” Josh laughed. “Why don’t you say yes so he can get up before he falls over?”
April turned to Wes, love bursting inside her chest. “Yes, let’s get married today!” April flung herself into his arms, and they both tumbled to the ground in a heap, laughing. She lay with her skirts tangled across him and leaned over his chest to give him a long, satisfying kiss. Wes tightened his grip around her waist and hugged her tight, kissing her eyelids and brow.
“I love you, Wes. God help me—I do.” She stifled his words of love with another kiss.
Applause burst out all around them, and when April looked up, their friends and the reverend were standing in a semicircle, smiling and cheering. Miss Margaret was wiping tears from her eyes with her handkerchief. April untangled herself, then Wes pulled her to her feet. Juliana reached out and smoothed down April’s rumpled skirts, then repinned April’s escaping hair as if she were her own sister. The act of kindness was not lost on April, and she briefly embraced Juliana. April was fully aware that her cheeks were burning after Wes’s public proposal and their tumble in front of the crowd, but her heart was soaring. Wes brushed off his sleeves and crooked his arm out for her. Everyone crowded around to congratulate them with a slap on the back for Wes and a kiss on the cheek for April.
Wes turned to his future brother-in-law and said, “Josh, I owe you one.”
“Friends don’t keep score, Wes. Just take good care of her, because I know the trail to the Rusty Spur,” Josh said, his eyes dancing with mischief.
April couldn’t be happier than she was right now. The man she loved and her dear brother were good friends.
“Thanks just the same, Josh,” Wes choked out, then shook Josh’s hand.
“Well, we’d better hurry. We have a wedding to perform,” Reverend Carlson said to everyone, gesturing toward the gazebo.
April walked with Wes to the gazebo, and the others followed behind. Leaves of orange, gold, and red from the ash trees swirled in a circle and were swept across the lawn with the stiff autumn breeze. A showy yellow tanager, his head cocked to the side, warbled a sweet melody from his perch on the gazebo’s railing. Lenora handed April a handful of sunflowers that she’d picked, and April clutched them tightly, hardly believing that her wedding was taking place.
Am I dreaming?
She blinked and saw Wes gazing at her with that beguiling smile. She tensed for a moment.
But what was it Miss Margaret had said to her one night?
What
is it you want for your life—your daddy’s approval or to live life your
own way?
Wasn’t that what Josh had done? Well, April knew what she wanted, and it was Wes. To raise horses, have his children, and grow old with him, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the Judith Mountains from their front porch. Their new and improved front porch. April giggled under her breath. Wes winked at her and took her hand.
April and Wes stood side by side, repeating their vows. Though there was no ring, it didn’t seem to matter. That would come later. All that mattered was God had kept His promise to heal her heart, and April was glad that she’d waited on Him. Oh, she and Wes would probably have a few tiffs now and then, but that would make life all the more fun and interesting.
A tingle went down her spine. Wes loved her, and he was definitely worth the wait, however long it had taken.
When their kiss had sealed their vows, April’s heart swelled, and she thought it couldn’t hold all the love she felt at this moment. The couple turned, still holding hands, and looked down over the railing at their friends who’d gathered along with the townsfolk to celebrate their vows. Through April’s tears, she said a prayer for her new husband and all the wonderful people she had grown to love under this vast, cloudless Montana sky.
My love of history dictates that I research and try to stay as factual as I possibly can in my story. Many of the buildings mentioned throughout the book are historical to Lewistown. Power Mercantile really existed and was built in 1884 on the corner of Main Street and 3rd Avenue South. It boasted supplies such as groceries, clothing, dry goods, furniture, shoes, and men’s goods. The Bank of Fergus County was directly across the street on the opposite corner. Phillips Drug Company, where Wes and Natalie have their soda water, was also on Main Street. The Day House Hotel, where Wes makes reservations, was built in 1880 and was located on the corner of 4th Avenue North and Main Street. Beaver Creek Church was situated on Lower Spring Creek Street. The Stockton Hotel is purely fictitious.
The Big Spring Creek runs northwest for thirty miles near Wes’s ranch, the Rusty Spur, and is one of the largest spring-fed streams in Montana.
Morgan Kincaid is a fictitious character who ran a franchise of the Wells Fargo stagecoach depot. Mary Fields, or “Stagecoach Mary,” was a colorful, gun-toting historical character who delivered the US mail by stagecoach in Montana. Raised as a slave, she lived a rugged life out West. She eventually retired from delivering mail in her seventies to open a laundry and lived out her last years in Cascade, Montana. Montana State College of Agriculture in Bozeman was a land-grant college founded in 1893, and later its name was changed to Montana State University.
The Fannie
Farmer Cookbook
that April gives to Wes made its debut in January 1896. It’s been my favorite cooking companion since I received a copy in 1967.
Much of my fascination with Glacier National Park comes from its phenomenal beauty and rich culture and history. I have no proof that any mayor ever spoke in Lewistown about a glacier reserve, but I do know that President Grover Cleveland appointed a committee to make a treaty with the Blackfeet Indians for the purchase of the western land of Montana. George Bird Grinnell, naturalist and editor of
Forest and Streams
magazine, was personally requested by the Blackfeet for the negotiations. Indian agent and local trader George Steele played a significant role to persuade the Indians of the benefit to sell their reserve. White Calf, the Piegan chief of the Blackfeet tribe, was an original signer of the commission and authorized the sale of 800,000 acres to the US government for $1.5 million. (Note: The different tribes of the Algonquian, Bloods, Blackfeet, and Piegan are designated collectively as the Blackfeet.) White Calf later died from pneumonia as he was visiting Washington in 1903.
The commission was confirmed later by Congress in June 1896. It wasn’t until 1910 that Glacier National Park was officially designated by President William Howard Taft as a national park.
If you’ve never visited Glacier National Park, I urge you to make it one of your dream trips. Be sure to travel on Going-to-the-Sun Road. Your life will be richer for it. You can find more information at
http://www.nps.gov/glac.
To my daughter, Sheri Christine, for being my personal editor. She kept me laughing throughout the late-night edits by email and accommodated me in spite of her own busy schedule. I also appreciate Gaye Orsini’s last-minute edits and tweaks.
To my best friend and critique partner, Kelly Long, for her insightful suggestions. She also carried me during the hard times that life dropped in my lap while I wrote this book, especially the loss of a third brother, Sam. Thank you, my friend!
To Charles Riggs of Wells Fargo Historical Services, who kindly supplied me with the cost of a typical stagecoach fare.
To all of my family, who loves me and supports my writing. I love you more than words can say. Forgive me if my writing isolated you for long stretches of time.
To the sweetest gifts in my life—my grandchildren Maggie, Angelina, Peter, and Sarah, who keep me centered. Mimi loves you all so much!
To Dottie and my personal cheering section of The Bookmark, Barbara and Sara Sue.
To my wonderful choir buddies.
To Jan Tilton and Debbie Kotyuk of the prayer room at Johnson Ferry Baptist Church in Marietta, Georgia. Your constant prayers for my family made all the difference.
To my encouraging friend and agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, and the superb team at Revell. I couldn’t have done this without you. Many thanks for keeping my dream going.
To my readers who have taken the time to write me personal notes. Your kind words are like sunshine on a cloudy day!
To my dearest mother, who shaped me into the person I’ve become today with her love of God’s Word. It’s because of her that Scripture pops into my head just when I need it most. She had the tenacity needed to hold our family together during the worst of times because of her unconditional love, much like Jesus’s love for us. What a sweet reunion we’ll have someday.
Most importantly, to my Lord, who whispered the desire for me to write at the early age of nine and who leads me all the way.
Maggie Brendan
is a member of the American Christian Writers (ACW) and the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). She was also a recipient of the 2004 ACW Persistence Award.
Maggie led a writers’ critique group in her home for six years and was quoted in
Word Weavers: The Story of a Successful Writ
–
ers’ Critique Group
. She was a guest speaker at a recent Regional Church Bookstores and Libraries conference in Marietta, Georgia, on the value of Christian fiction.
A TV film version is currently in development of her first novel,
No Place for a Lady
, book 1 of the Heart of the West series.
Ro
–
mantic Times
awarded
No Place for a Lady
a 4.5-star review and also gave
The Jewel of His Heart
a 4-star review.
Maggie is married and lives in Marietta, Georgia. She has two grown children and four grandchildren. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, singing, painting, scrapbooking, and being with her family. You can find Maggie on her blog,
http://southern bellewriter.blogspot.com
. She is also a resident blogger on
www. bustlesandspurs.com
.