[Canadian West 02] - When Comes the Spring (9 page)

I whirled from him. How can he be so stubborn? I couldn't believe
the man.

"Then I guess we will have to find something else to do," I said
defiantly. "I will not wear those pants. Do I make myself clear?" I
stressed every one of the words. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing
those ugly men's pants or-those-those equally ugly heavy boots.
Not even to climb a mountain on my honeymoon with the man I
love."

I whirled again to leave him, but Wynn caught my arm.

"Don't fight dirty, Elizabeth," he said softly, but there was steel in
his voice and a soft sadness, too.

The words jarred some sense into me. I couldn't believe how I was
acting. This was not the way I had been raised. In our household, the
man was always the one in charge; Mother had carefully schooled each
one of her daughters to believe that was the right way for a Christian
household to be run, and here I was-one day married-and fighting
back like a bantam hen.

I bit my lip to stop its trembling and turned away from Wynn. He
did not release me.

"We need to talk, Elizabeth," he said gently. "I don't think that
either of us is quite ready for it now. I'm going to take a walk-get
some air. I won't be long-and when I get back-if you are ready-"
He left the sentence unfinished and let go of my arm. I heard the door
close quietly behind him.

I really don't know how long Wynn was gone. I only know that I
spent the time in tears and, finally, in prayer. Wynn was the head of the home-my home. Even though I did not agree with him, I still
needed to submit to his authority if ours was to be a truly Christian
home-a happy home. He had not been wrong. I had been wrong.
Deep within myself I knew I would have been disappointed in Wynn
if he had allowed me to be the victor when he felt so strongly about
my safety. I needed to be able to lean on him, to know for sure that
he was in charge. So then, why had I tried to take over? Why was mere
fashion so important to me? I didn't know. I only know that by the
time Wynn's footsteps sounded in the hall, I had worked it all out with
prayer and tears of repentance.

I met him at the door. Considering my concern for how I looked,
I must have looked a mess, but Wynn made no mention of it. He took
me in his arms and began to kiss my tear-washed face. "I'm sorry," I
sobbed. "I'm truly sorry. Not for hating pants-I don't expect that I'll
ever like them, Wynn; but I'm sorry for getting angry with you for
doing what you thought was right for me."

Wynn smoothed back my hair. "And I'm sorry, Elizabeth. Sorry to
hurt you when I love you so. Sorry there isn't some other way I could
show you that mountain lake. Sorry I had to insist on the pants if-"

"Have to insist," I corrected him.

He frowned slightly.

"Have to insist on the pants," I repeated. "I still want to see that
lake, Wynn; and, if you will still take me, I'll wear the pants. Just pray
that we won't meet anyone on the trail," I added quickly. "I wouldn't
even want to meet a bear wearing those things."

Wynn looked surprised, then pleased, then amused. He hugged me
closer and laughed. "Believe me, Elizabeth, if there was any other
way-

"It's all right," I assured him.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I love you. Trust me?"

I nodded my head up against his broad chest.

"There will be times, Elizabeth, when we won't agree about things.
Times when I will need to make decisions in our future."

I knew that Wynn was thinking ahead to our life in the North.

"I might have to ask you to do things you will find difficult, things
you can't understand or don't agree with. Do you understand that?"

I nodded again. I had just been through all that in my talk with
my God.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I will try to never make decisions to satisfy
my ego or to show my manly authority, but I must do what I think is
right for you-to care for you and protect you. Can you understand
that?"

I searched his face and nodded again.

"This time-the pants-it would be too dangerous on the trail in
a skirt. I know the trail, Elizabeth. I would never expose you to the
possibilities of a bad fall. I-"

I stopped him then by laying a finger gently on his lips. "It's all
right. I understand now. I'm glad you love me enough to fight my
foolish pride. I mean it, Wynn. Thanks for standing firm-for being
strong. I needed that. I'm ready to let you be the head of the home.
And I want you to remind me of that as often as necessary-until I
really learn it well."

I had tears in my eyes. But then, so did Wynn. I reached up to
brush one of them from his cheek. "I love you, Mrs. Delaney," he
whispered.

"And I love you, Mr. Delaney," I countered.

His arms tightened about me. "I'm truly sorry this happened," he
said.

I looked at him, deep into his eyes. "I'm not," I said slowly, sincerely. "I'm ready now-ready to be your real wife. Ready to go with
you to the North-to the ends of the earth if need be. I need you,
Wynn. I need you and love you."

We were up early the next morning. We had a quick breakfast and
then went to prepare ourselves for the trip up the mountain. Wynn
had gone to the kitchen to pick up our lunch, which he put in a backpack along with a good supply of water. I dressed while he was gone,
not wanting even my husband to see me in the ugly pants.

I wasn't going to look at myself in the mirror. I didn't want to know
what I looked like. I walked to the dresser to pick up a scarf and accidentally got a full look at myself. Later I was glad I did. The sight
stopped me short and resulted in my doubling over with laughter.
Wynn found me like this. He wasn't sure at first if I was really amused
or just hysterical.

"Look at. me!" I howled. "I look like an unsightly bag of lumpy
potatoes." When Wynn discovered that I really was amused at how I
looked, he laughed with me. The bulky pants bagged out at unlikely
points, hiding my waist and any hint of a feminine shape. I had looped
a belt around my waist and gathered the pants as tightly about myself
as I could. This only made them bulge more.

"They are a bit big," Wynn confessed. "I guess I should have asked
you about the size."

"I wouldn't have been able to tell you anyway, never having worn
pants before. Oh, well, they'll do."

I stopped to roll up the legs and exposed the awkward boots on
my feet.

"Are you about ready?" asked Wynn when we both stopped laughing at the spectacle I made.

"Ready," I answered, standing to my full height and saluting. We
laughed again and headed for the door.

Wynn was kind enough to take me out the back way to avoid
meeting other hotel guests. We circled around and followed the path
to the mountain trail and began our long climb upward. We hadn't
gone far when I realized what Wynn had meant. I had to grab for
branches and roots in order to pull myself upward. Time after time,
Wynn reached to assist me. We climbed slowly with frequent rests. I
knew Wynn was setting an easy pace for me and I appreciated it. Every
now and then, I would stop to gaze back over the trail we had just
climbed. It was incredibly steep. I could catch a glimpse of one valley
or another through the thickness of the trees. I could hardly wait to be
above the timberline to view the lonely world beneath us.

By noon we had reached our goal. Sheer rock stretched up and up
beyond us. Below us lay the valley with the little town of Banff nestled
safely within its arms. It truly took my breath away. Here and there I
could see the winding path we had just climbed, as it twisted in and
out of the undergrowth beneath us.

"It's breathtaking," I whispered, still panting slightly from the
climb. "Oh, Wynn, I'm so glad we came."

Wynn stepped over to wrap an arm securely about me. "Me, too,"
was all he said.

We found a place to have our lunch. By then I was ravenous.
Wynn tossed his coat onto a slice of rock and motioned for me to be
seated. I did, drinking in the sight before me.

"Where's the lake?" I asked him.

"See that ragged outcropping of rock there?" he pointed.

I nodded.

"It's just on the other side of that."

"Does it take long to get there?"

"Only about half an hour."

"Let's hurry," I prompted.

Wynn laughed at my impatience. "We have lots of time," he
assured me. "It's faster going down than coming up."

He took my hand and we bowed together to thank God for the
food provided. Wynn's prayer also included thanks for the sight that
stretched out before us and our opportunity to share it together. I tightened my grip on his hand, thinking back on how close we had come to not making the climb. I looked down at the funny pants I was
wearing. They no longer shocked me. They only brought a bubble of
laughter.

We were almost finished with our lunch when we heard voices.
Another group had also made the climb. They were getting very close,
and I was looking about for a place to hide. I.recognized one of the
voices. It belonged to a very fashionable lady I had seen in the hotel
lobby the day before. Oh, my goodness! Whatever would she think of
me when she spied me in the insufferable pants? I could see no place
to shield myself, and then I braced myself and began to chuckle. So
what! I'd likely never see the woman again in my life. The pants had
provided me with a very pleasant day with my new husband. They
were nothing that I needed to be ashamed of. I took another bite of
sandwich and flashed Wynn a grin. He had been watching me to see
which way I would choose to run.

A man appeared. He was tall and dark, with very thin shoulders
and a sallow face. He looked like he was more used to trolley cars and
taxis than his own legs, and I wondered how he had managed to make
the climb. He did seem to be enjoying it and turned to give his hand
to the person who followed him. I was right. It was the attractive young
woman. I wondered how she had managed to climb a mountain with
her hair so perfectly in place. Her body came slowly up over the sharp
rise and into view. I gasped. She, too, was dressed in ugly men's pants.
Wynn and I looked at one another, trying hard to smother our laughter.

At that moment, she spotted us and called out from where she was
hoisting herself up, "Isn't it absolutely glorious?" She had an accent of
some kind. I couldn't place it at the moment.

Around my bite of sandwich, I called back, "Yes, isn't it?"

They came over to where we were seated and flopped down on the
rock perch beside us, both breathing heavily.

"I've never done anything like this before in my life," said the
young man.

"I had a hard time talking him into it at first," informed the
woman to my surprise.

"You've done it before?" I asked her.

"With my father-many times. He loved to climb." She looked
perfectly at home in her pants and stretched out her legs to rest them
from the climb.

"This your first time?" she asked me, sensing that it must be.

"For me it is," I answered. "My husband has been here before."

She gave Wynn a fleeting smile. "Once you've been," she stated
simply, "you want to come back and back and back. Me, I never tire
of it."

"It's a sight all right," Wynn agreed.

I suddenly remembered my manners. I looked at our packed lunch.
There were still some sandwiches left. "Here," I said, passing the package to them. "Won't you join us?"

"We brought our own," she quickly responded, and he lifted the
pack from his back. "We just needed to catch our breath a bit."

We sat together enjoying the view and our lunch. We learned that
they, too, were honeymooners. From Boston. She had pleaded for a
mountain honeymoon and he had consented, rather reluctantly, he
admitted; but he was so thankful now that he had. He was an accountant with a business firm, and she was the pampered daughter of a
wealthy lawyer. Her father was now deceased and she was anxious to
have another climbing mate. Her new husband hardly looked hardy
enough to fill the bill, but he seemed to have more pluck than one
would imagine. They were planning to take on another mountain or
two before returning to Boston.

After chatting for some time, Wynn stated that we'd best be going
if we wanted to see the lake before returning, and the young woman
agreed. It was a steep climb back down the mountain, she stated, one
that must be taken in good light.

We went on, bidding them farewell and wishing them the best in
their new marriage, which they returned. I got to my feet, unembarrassed by my men's pants. If a wealthy girl from Boston could appear so
clad, then I supposed that a fashion-conscious gal from Toronto could
do likewise.

The trail around the mountain to the little lake was actually perilous in spots. I wondered how in the world any woman would ever
have been able to make it in a skirt. She wouldn't. It was just that simple. I was glad for my unattractive pants that gave me easy movement. I was also glad for Wynn's hand which often supported me.

The lake was truly worth the trip. The blue was as deep as the
cloudless sky above us, and the surface of the lake was as smooth as
glass. It looked as though one should surely be able to step out and
walk on it, so unrippled it was. Yet, when we got close and I leaned
over carefully to get a good look into its depths, I was astonished to
discover just how deep it was. Because of the clearness of the water,
one could see every rock and every shadow. I stood up and carefully
stepped back, feeling a bit dizzy with it all.

We did not linger long. The climb back down the mountain was a
long one, so we knew we had to get on the trail. We met the other
young couple. They still talked excitedly as they walked carefully over
the sharp rocks and slippery places. I expected that their future would
hold many such climbs. In a way, I envied them. The North held no
such mountains-at least not in the place where Wynn had been presently stationed. Wynn had said the mountains did stretch way up to
the north country as well; but they were for the most part uninhabited,
so very few men were assigned to serve there. I was sorry for that. I
would have liked to live in the mountains.