Bossy Bridegroom (8 page)

Flinching and laughing, he turned to her. “I didn’t dare to hope it would look that good this fast.”

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? And I’ve got a lot of women lined up to bring in some crafts for the weekend. And there are more who want to be involved by Independence Day. And we’ve got fresh jelly, and there’s a man bringing in honey to sell. It’s your energy that’s made it all happened, Mike.”

“Maybe I started it, but it’s a team effort. What’s been accomplished is about everyone pulling together.”

Jeanie wrapped her arms around his middle, since he wasn’t letting go of her anyway. “I’m glad you came. I’ve loved having you back. I love—” Jeanie found herself caught by Michael’s warm eyes.

Michael’s smile faded as they stood. “We’re together aren’t we? Together in this marriage for the first time and forever.”

“Yes.” Jeanie’s answer was a whisper.

Pulling back, Michael asked, “Were you going to say it?”

Jeanie knew what he meant. She still had doubts. Not doubts their marriage would work—she believed that was possible now—but doubts that they were ready for what she saw, right now, in Michael’s eyes. But he was wonderful, and his arms felt so good.

“I was going to say, I love you.” Jeanie hugged him. “And in the middle of all this, I remembered why I fell in love with you to begin with. I remembered the good things.”

“Were there any good things?”

Jeanie sobered. “I fell so hard for you so fast. I was so proud of you. You’re a leader, but you’re generous, too. The way you’ve helped this town is just your nature. You have great vision and enthusiasm. I saw that in you when you were nineteen years old, and it’s still there … that charm, the work ethic, the joy for life.”

Brow furrowed, Michael said, “Our life together wasn’t joyful. I don’t want you to forget that. I’m almost afraid to let you love me. I want it so desperately.” He hugged her again, lifting her to her toes. Then he set her down. “But I’m afraid I’ll forget what a jerk I can be, and it’ll happen all over again.”

“I won’t let you forget.”

“Good girl.” Michael lowered his head. “I love you, Jeanie. And this time I really know what that means.”

Jeanie set aside her doubts and stretched up to meet her husband’s lips.

Moments passed, long wonderful moments.

Then, his heart in his eyes, Michael asked, “We’re together again, aren’t we?” He ran one finger down her cheek, outlining her lips, tracing her jaw.

“Yes.” Jeanie turned her head and kissed his palm, but a niggling of fear wouldn’t let her give in to what Michael was obviously asking. “Yes, we’re really together. And this time it’s forever. But I don’t think we’re ready—at least I’m not.”

Jeanie could see Michael fight the urge to push his wants on her, pressure her into accepting their marriage in all its fullness. But he won that fight. “I’ll wait as long as you need. Hearing you say you love me is enough for now. It’s what I’ve been praying for.”

Relieved, Jeanie kissed him again.

Then they separated for their private rooms.

Michael sang while he worked the next day.

Only finishing touches to ten proud little triangles of unfinished wood along the creek. Inside, each cabin was one main room with bare stud walls, no insulation or dry wall, twenty-four by twenty-four feet square at the base, rising to a peaked roof. A cement floor covered with cheap linoleum. A tiny bathroom—each cabin’s only amenity besides a bed and electric lights—was partitioned out of each main room.

He’d rented these out so fast he knew he could build fifty more and keep them full. Line the whole creek bank on both sides. Maybe build a swinging footbridge and create some hiking trails. It was a beautiful, rustic spot. He had plans to polish the cabins up a bit, make them tight for winter and add heating and a tiny kitchen area. Rent them to tourists in the summer, ice fishermen in the winter, and hunters in the spring and fall. The smell of fresh wood and the outdoors was like the finest perfume. He was sure the customers would love them.

And speaking of love …

He pressed his hand flat to massage his heart. He’d glanced behind him a hundred times all through the morning, waiting for Jeanie to finish at the senior center and come to him. He could barely breathe when he thought of how madly in love he was.

God, forgive me for that awful excuse for love we shared before. Thank You, thank You, thank You for blessing me with my wife back. I didn’t deserve it
.

His eyes welled with tears as he remembered and cherished the new beginning.

God, thank You, thank You, thank You
.

He couldn’t say it enough times. He couldn’t say it humbly enough. He couldn’t ever begin to be worthy of this blessing.

He felt her and turned. Of course he’d turned around a hundred times before, thinking that he’d felt her those times, too.

She walked toward him, her hair pulled back in its no-nonsense ponytail, dressed in the jeans and T-shirt she wore to work. He dropped the broom he’d been using to sweep wood chips away from the front doors of his cabins and ran toward her. She was already nearly jogging, but when he ran, she raced to meet him.

Michael swept her into his arms in front of the refurbished gas station. When the kiss ended, Michael swung her in a circle. “I’ve been watching for you all morning.”

They were alone. The rest of the town was sprucing up their homes and streets to welcome the holiday crowds.

Jeanie laughed. “I set a new record cleaning up after dinner.”

Michael set her feet back on the ground, and they just held each other. Michael cherished every breath, every moment, every touch.

Thank You, God. Thank You. Thank You
.

“Are we going to stand here holding each other all day?” Jeanie asked.

“How about until we die of old age?” Michael kissed the top of her head, her temple, her eyes.

“I want to hold on to you for that long, Michael.”

He kissed her soundly. “Good. Then we’re in total agreement.” He squeezed until her feet lifted off the ground and she squeaked. He set her down, laughing. “Now, what have we got left to do before the first renter arrives?”

They worked companionably together for several hours, having fun making the cabins perfect.

Then their first guest arrived. The day got hectic as Jeanie took the vacationers into the café to register and Michael helped with the luggage.

Glynna arrived with her neat foil containers of hot savory roast beef and side dishes. The guests ate as fast as Glynna and Jeanie spooned the food, and the rustic cash register they had found abandoned in the building rang up sale after sale.

It was early evening by the time there was a letup. The Buffalo Bus was ready, and rides had been scheduled for the morning. The cabins were full, Jeanie’s café-in-training was cleaned and set up for breakfast, and Jeanie and Michael made their way home, tired but overjoyed with the success of the day.

They were a couple, Michael knew, in a way they’d never been before. Married in their hearts and souls and minds.

Married in the way God intended.

Jeanie ran nonstop the whole weekend.

The activity was laced with joy as she watched Michael shine. He had a knack for bringing everyone along with him when he was enthusiastic.

Glynna’s food sold out every meal. The Buffalo Bus was a huge hit, with people driving in for the day to ride it along with the people staying in the cabins.

The senior citizens had a fund-raising dinner Saturday at noon that had Jeanie running back and forth between that building and her café. But with all the extra hands helping in both places, she kept up and had fun.

On Sunday they had a community worship service in the park, and Monday morning featured the traditional Memorial Day program at the city auditorium. When the veterans marched in with the American flag, an army band Michael had arranged struck up
The Star-Spangled Banner
. Pride nearly vibrated the building.

By the time everyone checked out of the cabins on Monday and the Buffalo Bus had made its last run, Jeanie was ready to collapse; but it was a good kind of exhaustion.

Michael helped her lock up the café. “You’re a fantastic cook, Jeanie. Glynna did a great job, but I’d love some of your homemade bread on the menu. Do you think Glynna would maybe partner with you when we get the building up to specs? You’ll need waitresses and at least one more cook. By Independence Day I’d like to …”

Jeanie listened with tired amusement as they walked through the darkened streets, trees sighing overhead in the cool May breeze. Nightingales setting their walk to music. The homes were mostly darkened, though an occasional window glowed with light.

Michael drew energy from people and plans, and she remembered, years ago, that she’d been a social butterfly, too.

“You keep planning and arranging, but tomorrow I go back to my normal life. I’ve got to work morning and afternoon. They let me off at the nursing home for the last two weeks, and I took time off from my other jobs, too. But people have been taking extra shifts to fill in.”

Michael stopped so suddenly that Jeanie stumbled. He turned. “What other jobs?”

“I help out at the library on Thursday nights and at the mini-mart two Saturdays a month.”

“You haven’t done that since I’ve been back, not even those first two weeks.”

“You knew I went to the library on Thursdays.”

“That was a job? I thought you were volunteering.”

“No, I get paid. And I only work two Saturdays a month at the mini-mart, and you came on an off week. Then I asked for a break because of all this activity, but—”

Michael pulled her so tight against him that she couldn’t finish making her point. But she suspected he got the gist.

“What do you think about quitting the extra jobs? Maybe the senior center, too? I’ve got five of the cabins rented out for next week. Not just a couple of weekend nights—the whole week. We’re going to want to keep Jeanie’s Café open. It’s not like the little bit of money you bring in from these part-time jobs is important. I can support us.”

Jeanie worried her bottom lip as she considered it. “I like the work I do. There’s a real need, Michael.”

“I agree. You can’t quit unless there’s someone to fill the void.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve done so much for this town.”

Jeanie shook her head with a smile. “You’ve done more in, what—a month?—than I did in a year.”

“But what you did, giving to people, even if it was just one at a time, like with your hospice work, was the real thing. True Christian service. Pastor Bert was dead right about that.” Michael rested one hand on her chest. “That’s your gift. This generous heart. And I’m benefiting from it because only someone as generous as you would have forgiven me.”

Michael suddenly wrapped one arm around her shoulder and practically dragged her toward their shabby old house. “Let’s go home.”

Jeanie raced along with him. She didn’t want to give up her jobs. The truth was she got so much more than she ever gave in her work. If she helped others, that was wonderful, but those people—the elderly, the library patrons, the children in 4-H and Girl Scouts—made her feel worthwhile. She’d known since she started this whirlwind of volunteering that it was rooted in her own sense of failure and selfishness.

As if she could be good enough, generous enough, self-sacrificing enough to deserve God’s love. But she knew in her heart that she couldn’t earn salvation. It was a free gift, and her nearly frantic efforts to be worthy were misguided. It was time she let go of her past failure and forgave herself.

So, if Michael wanted her to quit, she should.

She would quit in an orderly way so no one was left in need, but she
would
quit and cut back on her volunteer work. She’d devote herself to her marriage and Michael’s vision for Cold Creek and try, finally, to forgive herself.

It was scriptural that she’d let Michael be the head of the house. He wanted her to quit. She’d quit.

Turning to Michael as they entered the house, she opened her mouth to tell him all of this. They were new people in Christ. Their marriage was new, and it was based on complete honesty. This was something she needed to share and work through with her husband.