A Home at Trail's End (13 page)

He stopped walking and placed his hand gently on her cheek. “You are a good woman, Elizabeth Martin. I am a blessed man.”

She smiled up at him but wished she were a better woman. A stronger woman. Because the truth was, even if she could get that Indian girl to trust her enough to accept some help, she had no idea what she could actually do or how much assistance she could truly offer. And what about language? Would she even be able to communicate with the young woman? Furthermore, she feared that her concern for an outcast Indian would be met with severe resistance from the rest of the community. Even her good friend Malinda would probably question the sensibility of that kind of charity. Once again Elizabeth realized her best response to this potentially sticky situation would be to simply pray…to ask God to direct her path.

Chapter Ten

A
fter her mother agreed to pay a visit to Reverend Holmes with her, Elizabeth recruited JT as her postman. She sent a note to school with him on Monday saying she and her mother would like to speak to the reverend about her upcoming wedding. The reverend responded the same day by inviting the two women to tea on Thursday afternoon.

Fortunately the rainy weather gave way to sunshine by midweek, and although the road was muddy, Elizabeth and Clara didn't mind putting on their work boots and trekking to town. “Remember how much we walked every day on the trail?” Elizabeth said. “Sometimes I actually miss it.”

Clara chuckled. “You can't be serious.”

Elizabeth looked up at the clear blue sky. “I'm not saying I'd like to do the whole trip again,” she admitted. “But sometimes I miss the simplicity of having only one goal for the day—getting my family safely down the trail.”

“Yes, I suppose that makes some sense.”

“Have you ever been in Reverend Holmes' house before?” Elizabeth asked as they came in sight of town—or rather, what was slowly transforming into a town.

“No, but I know they live in that cabin back behind the church,” Clara said. “It seems rather small. At first I thought it was a storage shed for the church and school.”

“It does seem small,” Elizabeth admitted. “And a bit close to the church building. JT said that if the children are too noisy at recess, Reverend Holmes will go out on his doorstep and holler at them to quiet down.

Clara laughed. “Sometimes I'd like to tell the good reverend to quiet down.”

They were in sight of the church now, although today it was playing the role of school, and it appeared that class was in session. Elizabeth studied the tiny cabin tucked into the trees back behind. “It's very dark and gloomy back there,” she said as they skirted the schoolyard toward it.

“And if I'm not mistaken, it's even smaller than our little cabin,” Clara said quietly. “Already I'm planning for Asa to add a lean-to kitchen on the back of it. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have the kitchen housed in its own space?”

Before Elizabeth could respond, Mrs. Holmes opened the door and waved toward them. “Good afternoon, ladies,” she said cheerfully. “We've been expecting you.”

Soon they were inside the shadowy cabin, and Mrs. Holmes was taking their coats. “We brought slippers for the house,” Elizabeth told her as she helped her mother to remove a muddy boot.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.” Mrs. Holmes waved over to where the reverend was seated in a chair by the smoldering fire. “Please, make yourselves at home while I get our tea ready.”

Slightly surprised that Reverend Holmes didn't stand as he greeted them, Elizabeth took the straight-backed chair across from him, and her mother sat down in the rocker to his right.

“Interesting footwear,” Reverend Holmes said to Elizabeth.

She looked down at her beaded moccasins and smiled. “My daughter, Ruth, and I got these while traveling the Oregon Trail,” she explained. “They make wonderful house slippers.”

“Ah, yes…you folks traveled by wagon train. For some reason I thought you came by ship like my wife and I did back in '53.”

Elizabeth explained that the last leg of their journey actually was by ship. “It is quite a challenge to get down to this part of the country, don't you think?”

He nodded, pressing his fingertips together as he studied Elizabeth. “So you and your young man are going to pledge your troth to each other. Eli Kincaid, I believe his name is. I've only had the pleasure of his acquaintance once. Does he attend church regularly?”

Elizabeth explained that Eli was relatively new to the area and that he'd made a trip to Empire City for lumber.

“Milled lumber?” The reverend's thin gray brows arched. “That must have cost a pretty penny.”

“Yes, Eli traded a wonderful horse for part of it.” She smiled sadly. “He felt it was worth the sacrifice to ensure we had a roof over our heads this winter.”

“Wise man.” The reverend looked around the cramped room. “The parsonage roof was in need of repair last summer. I had been in hopes that the men would enlarge the parsonage as well, but alas, that was not to be.” He sighed.

“Maybe next summer?” Elizabeth said with optimism.

“I would be much surprised if that happened.” He scowled. “The congregation in this settlement seems to be more concerned for their own welfare than that of their clergy.”

“Oh, now, Roland,” his wife said as she brought in a wooden tray with some mismatched tea service on it. “Remember what the good book says about—”

“I'm well versed in the good book,” he said sharply.

She simply laughed as she set the tray down on a small stool in the center of the chairs. “Roland has very high expectations—both for himself and everyone around him.”

“The Lord instructs us to be perfect as he is perfect. I do not intend to settle for anything less.”

“The ladies didn't come here for a sermon, Roland.” Mrs. Holmes handed a cup of tea to Clara. “I was so pleased to hear that Elizabeth has decided to have her wedding in the church.”

“Her first wedding was in a church too,” Clara said. “And then we had a big dinner out on our farm. I think there were two hundred people in attendance. We had music and dancing and it lasted late into the night.”

“Oh, my.” Mrs. Holmes handed a cup to Elizabeth. “That must have been quite a memorable celebration.”

“It was,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I don't want this wedding to be anything like the other one. I was so young then. And no children. Truly, that feels like another lifetime to me now.”

Mrs. Holmes patted her knee. “Well, we're just so pleased you want your wedding to be in the church. Especially after we learned that your sister-in-law is having her wedding in her barn.”

“Yes. That was dismaying,” the reverend said solemnly. “The Martins have been attending our church since its inception four years ago. I baptized two of the children, and I gave the eulogy for John's funeral. And when I met Malinda's intended, William Bramford, I was quite impressed that he was an attorney of law.” He frowned. “But I do not understand why a well-educated man would choose to pledge his marriage vows in the company of farm animals.”

“The Lord Jesus was born in the company of farm animals,” Clara declared.

“That's true.” Elizabeth suppressed the urge to giggle at her mother's boldness. “And we're farmers, so we have the utmost respect for livestock, Reverend.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes…I'm sure you do.”

“But you
do
wish to have your wedding in the church, do you not?” Mrs. Holmes looked uneasy as she handed her husband a cup of tea.

“Yes. Eli and I would like to be married in the church. On the first Saturday of December, if that isn't a problem.”

“Not at all.” Mrs. Holmes smiled at her husband.

“We will schedule it for you,” the reverend assured her.

Elizabeth tossed a nervous glance at her mother. They'd done some strategizing as they'd walked to town. The plan was for Clara to take the lead.

“But first we have some questions,” Clara said in a firm tone.

“Questions?” He set his cup down and leaned forward. “Please, feel free.”

Clara took in a breath. “Elizabeth and Eli both want their wedding to be a joyous event. They have both known sadness and grief in their lives, and we all believe it is a wonderful miracle that they found each other the way they did. They wish for their wedding ceremony to reflect that.”

His brow creased. “What are you saying?”

Clara glanced at Elizabeth before she continued. “Sometimes your sermons are…well, sometimes we feel rather heavy and somber after a church service, Reverend. We would not care to have their wedding feel like that.”

“But a wedding ceremony is a solemn affair,” he told her. “When two people pledge their troth before man and God, it is to be taken seriously.”

“We do take it seriously,” Elizabeth assured him. “Our vows will be genuine. But we would prefer to make our vows in a positive atmosphere. My children are young and impressionable. I want them to remember this as a happy day.”

“I think that's a lovely idea,” Mrs. Holmes told her.

“Making a vow to God is not to be taken lightly, ladies.” The reverend's voice was getting louder. “If you wish to have a wedding that's glib and silly and childish, you will need to find someone else to officiate it.”

“We are not asking for glib and silly and childish,” Clara told him.

He waved his hand. “You want me to make light of a serious occasion.”

“A funeral is a serious occasion,” Clara said firmly. “A wedding should be a joyous one. Don't you think?”

“I agree,” Mrs. Holmes said.

Mr. Holmes just glowered at all of them.

Elizabeth wasn't sure what to do now. She had suspected this man would be stalwart, but she had not imagined he would be this resistant. However, she was pleasantly surprised by Mrs. Holmes. She seemed entirely reasonable. How was it possible these two opposite sorts of characters lived peaceably—and in such a small space?

“My husband is willing to officiate the wedding service,” Clara said quietly.

“Is he an ordained minister?”

“No. But he led our church services on the Oregon Trail,” Elizabeth said boldly. “And everyone in our unit felt he did a wonderful job of it. He is a gifted preacher.”

“If he is not ordained and he is not a justice of the peace, he cannot conduct a legal marriage.”

“I was told that a marriage was considered legal if the couple had a certificate signed by witnesses and filed within the year at Empire City,” Clara told him.

“And to do that, you must make two trips to Empire City,” he replied. “One to get the certificate, and one to file it. Traveling that distance this time of year can take weeks.”

“But we have marriage certificates,” Mrs. Holmes said quietly.

“That is because I am an ordained minister,” he said a bit smugly.

The room grew quiet again, and Elizabeth could see that the reverend was feeling victorious. And perhaps it was best to simply give in. Even if the wedding ceremony was a solemn, unhappy affair, they would have time to celebrate afterward. She knew her mother would see to that.

“So…” Elizabeth began slowly. “It seems that I am at your mercy, Reverend Holmes. Eli and I do wish to be married in early December. And we certainly do not have time to make the trips to Empire City and—”

“Who will officiate Malinda and Will's wedding?” Clara asked Elizabeth.

Elizabeth tilted her head to one side. “I don't know.”

“As a matter of fact, I will be the officiator,” he informed them. “Not here in the church as I would prefer. But I did agree to go out to her farm.” He cleared his throat. “For the same fee I would charge here in the church, I will perform a simple ceremony in the barn.” He looked slightly disgusted now, as if this was beneath him. “And then I will leave the merrymakers to their folly.”

“And the reverend prefers that I will remain here at home for the wedding,” Mrs. Holmes said sadly.

Elizabeth pressed her lips together. Perhaps this was the reason Malinda wanted to hold their wedding in the barn—so that Reverend Holmes could conduct a quick ceremony and then depart. It made perfect sense. And yet it seemed all wrong. It was as if everyone in their settlement was being held hostage by an angry preacher. Now she wondered…if the settlers were the ones paying for his services, and she knew that was true, shouldn't they have a say about the quality of those services?

“May I ask you something?” she said to him.

“Certainly.” The edge of his lips curled into what might be considered a half smile.

“Do you enjoy your work, Reverend?”

He looked somewhat taken aback by her question. “Do I enjoy my work? Well, that is an interesting question. First of all it is not work. It is a calling. A very serious calling. God called me to be a minister more than twenty-five years ago. To preach the gospel to the wicked—to save the sinners from eternal damnation. I do not take this calling lightly.”