A Promise for Spring (34 page)
Emmaline nodded. “Geoffrey and I will lean on God and on each other.”
“ ’Course you will, chil’.” Tildy squeezed Emmaline’s hand. “You’s marryin’ a fine man, an’ he’s gittin’ hisself a dandy li’l bride.” Tears formed in the woman’s eyes, and she swished them away with an impatient flick of her fingers. “An’ I’m thinkin’ we best git you to the chapel right now afore you miss your own weddin’!”
At that moment, a voice called, “Tildy? Miss Emmalion? Preacher say it time to start. Git on down here!”
Tildy made a growling sound in the back of her throat. “Oh, dat man o’ mine, always givin’ orders.”
Emmaline swallowed her giggle. Ronald was generally
taking
orders . . . from Tildy.
Emmaline sprang from the bed and skipped out the door with Tildy on her heels. Ronald stood at the bottom of the stairs in his new black suit. A satin ribbon tied beneath his clean-shaven chin set off the crisp white collar of his shirt. “You ready to walk that aisle, Miss Emmalion?”
Tildy nudged Emmaline with her elbow. “Don’ Ronal’ look fine? Never seen him so gussied up, but he’s proud as proud can be, gittin’ to hand you off to Geoffrey.”
Both Tildy and Ronald sported fine new clothes for this celebratory occasion. “He is only as handsome as you are beautiful,” Emmaline told Tildy.
Tildy snorted. “Oh, law, git on wit’ you, chil’!” But her broad grin let Emmaline know she appreciated the compliment.
Emmaline flashed Tildy a smile before lifting her skirt slightly and descending the stairs. She slipped her hand into the bend of Ronald’s arm. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go. Your groom’s a-waitin’!”
Six months later . . .
Emmaline bent over and pulled out a weed that had dared to grow in her expanding flower patch. She tossed the errant green scrap aside and then pressed her hands to her lower back, arching her spine. With a giggle, she addressed her stomach. “If you are already getting in my way, what will I do as your arrival date nears?”
Geoffrey teased her for talking to their unborn child, but he always smiled when she did it. His excitement at the prospect of a baby was second only to her own. And wouldn’t Mother and Father be delighted to know they would become grandparents in the late summer? Hopefully her letter had reached them by now.
A tiny niggle of disappointment wiggled down her spine as she thought of delivering this baby far away from Mother. She had expressed that regret shortly after discovering she was in a family way, and Geoffrey had asked, “Would you like me to send you to England for your confinement and delivery? You could return with the baby the next year.” That he would make the offer touched her deeply, but she couldn’t imagine leaving him. Kissing his lips, she had said, “You and I will welcome this child into our lives together right here in our own home. Mother and Father can come visit us next year!”
She crouched to loosen the soil around the delicate forget-me-nots, and then shifted over a few feet to thin out the section of daisies. Reaching to the base of the flower stems, her knuckles encountered something hard and immovable. She pushed the cheerful blooms aside and frowned at the large rock plopped right in the middle of the daisy patch.
Running her hand over the smooth stone, she gave a start. The rock was the same one she had carted from England! Why wasn’t it in the growing pile that would soon become her promised potting shed? She cupped the cool stone with both hands, intending to put it back on the pile, but before she could lift it, someone said, “Emmaline, what do you think you are doing?”
She peeked over her shoulder. Geoffrey moved toward her, a curious expression on his face. Pushing a strand of hair from her eyes, she answered, “Moving my rock.”
He caught her shoulders and guided her to her feet. “You shouldn’t do any heavy lifting.”
“Geoffrey Garrett.” She plunked her dirty fists on her hips and sent him a scowl. “I carried that rock all across the countryside without any difficulties. Surely I can move it from one place to another.”
He smirked and tapped the end of her nose. “That rock’s traveling days are finished, my dear wife. Let it remain where I placed it.”
“
You
put it there?”
“Yes, I did.” Geoffrey gazed down at the rock, fondness curving his lips. “And there it shall stay.”
“But why?”
Slowly he angled his head to meet her gaze. “Because every time I walk into the house, I’ll see it there. It’s a reminder of my birthplace, but it also reminds me that I am blessed. You chose to stay here with me. And together we’re building our life on a firm foundation of faith.” He caught her hands and lifted them to his lips. “A rock has permanence, Emmaline—just as our love is permanently grounded in God and in each other. So leave it there, hmm?”
She gazed down at the rock and smiled. Geoffrey was right—it belonged nestled amongst the daisies. Lifting her face, she tugged the brim of her bonnet forward to shade her eyes. “Will you remember to send Jim in so he and I can complete his arithmetic lesson?”
Even though the boy wasn’t able to go in to Stetler each day for schooling, Emmaline had made it her duty to educate him as best she could. He soaked up knowledge like a sponge, and in another year or two he planned to leave the ranch to pursue a different kind of profession than sheep ranching.
“He won’t let me forget.” Geoffrey shook his head, feigning disgust. “If I don’t send him, he’ll come in on his own.”
Emmaline ran her fingers down the line of Geoffrey’s whiskers.
“Do you mind?”
He shifted his head slightly to kiss her palm. “Of course not. He has a lot of catching up to do if he wants to go to a university.” He chuckled. “But don’t set a plate at the supper table for him. He’s going in to Stetler.”
“Ah. Alice’s house again?”
“Again.” Geoffrey crossed his arms. “They seem awfully young to be spending so much time together.”
“Geoffrey!” Emmaline burst out laughing. “Alice is the same age I was when you began to woo me.” She laughed again when he cleared his throat and frowned. “Besides, Dr. Stevens’ daughter is as cute as could be. She and Jim would make a darling couple.”
Geoffrey sighed, regret tingeing his features. “You know, if Chris chooses to leave when Jim goes to school, it will mean some changes around here. But”—the worried look drifted away as he raised his shoulders in a shrug—“I trust God will send the right workers along to replace them.”
“He does meet our needs.” Suddenly an abrupt kick inside her belly made her double over. “Oh!” She grasped Geoffrey’s hand and held it against her rounded stomach. “Little Matilda is active today!”
“I believe you intended to say,” Geoffrey said with a grin, his fingers firm and warm even through the layers of fabric, “
Chet
is making his presence known.”
She laughed lightly, wrinkling her nose at her husband. Fixing him with a pensive look, she asked, “Will you be disappointed if this baby is Matilda instead of Chet?”
“Of course I won’t be disappointed, because I
know
it’s Chet.” His eyes sparkled as he whispered, “But don’t tell Tildy I said so.”
They shared a laugh. Geoffrey looked toward the pasture. “I must get to work.” He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. “Don’t stay out in the sun too long, hmm? Sit on the porch in the shade and finish stitching that baby quilt instead. The flowers will survive without you wearing yourself out.”
Without waiting for her reply, he leaned forward and delivered a kiss on her lips. Then he walked across the ground in his familiar long-legged stride toward the pasture where the sheep peacefully grazed beneath a sky of azure blue. Emmaline stood watching after him while the Solomon sang a peaceful lullaby, and her flowers—encouraged by a light spring breeze—swayed gently to the music.
Her mind drifted over the past year and all she and Geoffrey had weathered together. With an overflowing heart, she whispered a prayer of thankfulness for the blessings God had brought into their lives, even when they had turned their backs on Him. Just as His Word promised, He had given them the strength to triumph over challenges. The difficult times had even served a purpose—of growing their faith in God and in each other.
She touched her burgeoning belly and sighed with contentment. Each and every day of the past year, God had showered her and Geoffrey with His loving care, and they, like wild flowers fed by sunshine and rain, would continue to blossom in this land called Kansas.
To my family—thank you for your endless support. I couldn’t meet the challenges of this ministry without it.
To ACFW Crit14, Ramona, and Judy—Thank you for your suggestions, encouragement, and friendship. You are all very special to me.
A wink and a smile to Elise Johansen for “boycotting” my books until I got this story written. What a motivator!
To my prayer warriors—your petitions on my behalf are a blessing beyond description. May God bless you as richly as you have blessed me.
To Kathy H. and Kathy A.—your friendship, your willingness to share with me through both tears and laughter, is a priceless gift. Thank you.
To my agent, Tamela—thank you for your continued belief in me.
To the wonderful staff at Bethany House—your efforts to create a quality book are always exemplary. Thank you so much for all you do. I so enjoy being a part of your “family.”
And most importantly, to God—You always keep Your promises, and I am forever grateful for Your steadfast presence in my life. May any praise or glory be reflected directly back to You.
KIM VOGEL SAWYER is fond of C words like children, cats, and chocolate. She is the author of 12 novels, including the bestsellers
Waiting for Summer’s Return and My Heart Remembers
. She is active in her church, where she teaches adult Sunday school and participates in both voice and bell choirs. In her spare time, she enjoys drama, quilting, and calligraphy. Kim and her husband, Don, reside in Kansas and have 3 daughters and 6 grandchildren.
M
ORE
H
EARTWARMING
H
ISTORICAL
F
ICTION
F
ROM
Kim Vogel Sawyer
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