[Canadian West 02] - When Comes the Spring (4 page)

"How long does it take to get there?"

He looked confused at my question, but he answered, "They said
to allow six days for travel."

"Six days," I mused. "That leaves us only nine."

Wynn looked puzzled. "Nine?"

"My folks can be here in three or four days," I hurried on. "By
then I should have my dress ready. That will make it about right for a
Saturday wedding. That leaves us four days in the mountains and one
day to pack to get ready to go. Can we do it, Wynn?"

Wynn was dumbstruck.

"Can we do it?" I repeated. "Can we pack in a day?"

"Oh, Elizabeth," Wynn said, crushing me against him. "Would
you-would you-?"

I moved back and looked deeply into Wynn's eyes. The tears were
burning my own.

"I couldn't let you go without me, Wynn. I couldn't," I stammered.
"The wedding might not be just as we planned, but it's the marriage that counts. And we will have our family and friends there. It will still
be beautiful."

There were tears in Wynn's eyes as he kissed me. I finally pulled
away and looked out at the mountains. So it wouldn't be seven weeks
before I would be visiting there as Mrs. Wynn Delaney. It would be
less than a week. It seemed unreal, almost heady. Wynn must have
thought so, too. "Bless the Police Force," he murmured in almost a
whisper.

"Bless the Police Force?" I repeated, wondering at his sudden
change of emotion.

He grinned at me.

"September always seemed such a long, long ways off."

I gave him a playful push, though the color rose in my cheeks. I
could feel the glow. "Well, September might have been an awful long
ways off," I agreed, "but this Saturday is awfully close. We have so
much to do, Wynn, that it's absolutely frightening."

I suddenly realized the full impact of the statement I had just
made.

"We'd better get back to Mary. My, she will be just frantic."

"Hold it," said Wynn, not letting me go. "Didn't you promise me
this whole evening?"

"But that was before I knew that-"

Wynn stopped me. "Okay," he said, "I won't hold you to your
original promise. I will admit that things have changed somewhat in
the last five minutes. However, I am going to insist on at least half an
hour of your undivided attention. Then we will go to the house and
Mary."

I smiled at him and settled back into his arms.

"I think I'd like that," I answered shyly.

The house was full of commotion in the next few days. Mary
seemed to be running in every direction at once. Surprisingly, it was I,
Elizabeth, who took things rather calmly-I who had always dreamed
of the perfect wedding. I who had pictured myself many times coming
down the aisle of a large stained-glass cathedral on the arms of my
father, the altar banded with delicate bouquets of orange blossoms or
gardenias, my exquisite arrangement of orchids trailing from my satincovered arm. I had envisioned masses of attendants with shimmering
gowns designed by the best seamstress in England or Paris. I had listened wistfiilly to strains from the magnificent pipes of the organ, as
the wedding march was played.

And now I was to be married in a very simple, tiny, roughconstructed church. There would be no stained-glass windows to let in
the summer light. There would be no magnificent sounds from the
throat of a pipe organ. There would be few attendants, and their gowns
would be unnoteworthy by the fashion world's standards. And yet it
would be sheer heaven, for I would be standing at the altar with the
man I loved. That was all that mattered, I suddenly realized. And so it
was I who slowed Mary down and calmed her with words of assurance
that everything would be just lovely. Everything would be just right.

The telegram was sent home, and Mother and Father and Julie and
Matthew would he arriving on Friday's train. My one regret was that I
wouldn't have more time to see them before the Saturday wedding.
Well, it was far more important that I be ready to go north with Wynn.

I hurriedly finished my wedding dress, and it was ready on timein fact, I had a whole day to spare; so I turned my attention to other
things. I went quickly through my wardrobe, selecting the few things
that would be suitable for life in the North. I packed all the clothing I had used in the classroom and then took the streetcar uptown to make
some more purchases. Wynn had assumed all the responsibility for purchasing and arranging the household items we would need. I felt a bit
of misgiving but realized that Wynn-having lived in the Northwould have a much better understanding of what would be needed
than I would. Still, I found it difficult not to be involved. My womanly
instincts told me that Wynn might be a little short on home comforts
and concentrate instead on survival. I tried to push the anxious
thoughts from me whenever they invaded my mind and told myself
that I could trust Wynn completely.

Thursday fled all too quickly. I lengthened the day by staying up
half the night. I continued to sort and pack and try to think ahead of
what a woman would need to survive the rigors of the north country
for three or four years without a return to civilization. My mind
seemed to go blank. How would I know? I had never been farther than
a few short miles from the city shops.

Wynn had been every bit as busy as I-sorting, crating, and labeling the items and supplies we would need for our household. It would
not be fancy, he kept reminding me; and I kept assuring him that I
did not care. I gave him the few items I had purchased last year for my
housekeeping chores in the teacherage, hoping they would help curtail
our expenses. He seemed pleased with them and told me that with all
I had, plus the few essential items which would already be in stock in
our northern cabin, there were few things further he would need to
add.

I thought much about our home in the wilderness. I did want to
make it a home, not just a bare and functional place that Wynn came
to at the end of a long, hard day. But how did one go about converting
log walls and wooden floors into a cozy homelike place? Curtains and
cushions and rugs seemed to be the answer. I had no time for such
things now. I had all I could do just to get packed and ready. I decided
to purchase some materials for these things to take with me. So, early
Friday morning, I boarded the streetcar for uptown. I did not buy thin,
flimsy muslins. Instead, I spent my time poring over heavier, more
masculine materials. They seemed far more suited to a northern cabin
than the lighter, frillier furnishings would be. In the heavier materials I chose bolder, brighter prints than I normally would have purchased
and then added a few finer fabrics just in case I should be sewing for a
new member of the family before we got back from the North. My
cheeks flushed slightly at that thought, and I hoped no one I knew was
observing my shopping for pastel flannels. I had almost neglected to
even think of such a possibility in my lastest rush, but three or four
years was a long time.

With all my purchases weighing me down, I took the streetcar back
to Jon's and tried to rearrange my trunks to crowd in the additional
items. I had to leave behind a few dresses, but I decided I would do
very well without them. The sewing material was much more important. After pushing and straining and shoving things as tightly into
place as I could, I did manage to get the lid of the trunk down and
latched.

I sat back on the floor, perspiration dampening my forehead. I must
look a mess, I mused. I could feel my coppery curls beginning to slip
from their combs. My face felt flushed and warm, my dress was crumpled, and my hands ... I looked at my hands. They were tremblingtrembling as though I had had an awful fright or just plain overexerted
myself. Well, it mattered not. I had done it. I was packed and ready.
Ready to go with Wynn to his north country. All that remained to be
done were the final preparations for our wedding; then we would be
off for a very brief honeymoon. And then, after a hurried day of final
preparations, we would be on our way to the little cabin we would call
home.

I pushed the hair off my forehead with my shaky hand and, with
the help of my nearby bed, pulled myself to a standing position. It was
twenty minutes until the noon meal would be served. I still had time
for a quick bath and a hair repair job. I mustn't stand around brooding.
I must hurry. Friday morning was gone and there was still much to be
done for my wedding. And my family would be arriving on the four
o'clock train.

"Beth!"

Julie's cry made many heads turn in time to see the pretty, well dressed easterner drop whatever was in her arms and rush headlong for
me.

I wanted to cry her name and run just as headlong to her, but I
checked myself. I did run to meet her though, and the two of us fell
into each other's arms. I had not known until that very minute just
how intensely I had missed her. We both wept as we held one another.
It was several minutes before we could speak.

"Let me look at you," Julie said, pushing herself back from me.

I just wanted to cling to her. I knew how short our time together
would be.

She had changed. She was still just as attractive. She was still just
as bubbly. But there was a certain maturity about her. How I loved her!
I had missed her more than I could describe.

She threw her arms wildly about me again, dislodging my hat.
"Oh, I've missed you so!" she cried. "How could you, Beth? How
could you come out here and decide to marry some man who will take
you off from me forever?" But there was teasing in Julie's voice.

"You just wait until you see the man," I teased back.

`Ah," said Julie, pushing back again and reaching up one hand to
help my wayward hat. It didn't seem any more secure after Julie was
done with it. "Ah," she said again. "Beth, the practical one, has met her
match."

We laughed together, and then I was claimed by other arms.
Mother arrived not in a whirlwind as had Julie but in her usual, quiet,
dignified way.

"Elizabeth," she said very softly. "How are you, dear?"

My tears came again, rushing down my cheeks and threatening to
soak everyone near me. Mother was weeping, too, but softly-like gently falling rain, not in wild torrents.

We held each other close for a long time. "You look beautiful,
dear," she whispered in my ear. "Methinks that love becomes you."

"Oh, Mother!" I exclaimed, "just wait until you meet him. I can
hardly wait-"

"Nor can I, dear." Wynn, on duty till 5:30, could not be with us
to meet the train.

Jon claimed Mother then. It was touching to see mother and son greet one another after the many years they had been separated. After
Jon had held her and allowed her to again regain her composure, he
proudly introduced his Mary. The two of them seemed to fall in love
immediately. The children crowded around. I could hear them as they
took their turns being hugged by their grandma and Aunt Julie. But I
was busy getting some hugs of my own. Father held me. I had often
been held in my father's arms, but this time it was different. I think we
both sensed it. For this time, I was no longer his little girl. I was now
about to leave his care and be turned over to the arms of another man.
He brushed a kiss against my hair just above my ear and whispered to
me. "I'm happy for you, Elizabeth. Happy-and sad-all at one time.
Can you understand that?"

I nodded my head against his shoulder. Yes, I understood, for that
was the way I felt. I hated to leave my family. It would be so wonderful
if I could have just packed them all up too-like I had done my simple
dresses and the yards of material-and taken them along with me into
the northland. But, no. I honestly wouldn't have wanted that. I didn't
even need that. Not really. Wynn was all I really needed now. Things
had changed. And, though I still loved my family, I was not dependent
on them anymore. I was cutting the ties. I was binding myself to
another. The solemn words would be spoken on the morrow, but my
heart knew it had already made its commitment. Already, in thinking
and feeling, I was Wynn's-his alone for all time and eternity. He
would be my family, my protector, my spiritual head, my lover, my
friend.

"I love you, Daddy," I said softly. "Thank you for everything.
Thank you for raising me to be ready for a home of my own. I didn't
realize it until-until-now. But you did. You prepared me for thisfor Wynn-and I thank you."

Suddenly I felt calm. Very calm and sure of myself. I had been too
busy to even think of just what a difference the morrow would make
in my life. I had been too in love to even consider that there might be
problems to face and adjustments to be made, but I saw it now. The
arms of the man who held me made me think clearly of all that was
ahead, and I suddenly realized that I was indeed ready for it. This was
not just a whim, not just a schoolgirl romance. This was a love. A love deep and lasting, and I would be a wife and a helpmeet for the man I
loved. My father had showed me how. Unconsciously, in all of those
years of my growing up, he had been showing me the way to a good
marriage relationship-with his kindness, consideration, and strong
loyalty to those he loved. I held him more tightly. I loved him very
much.