Diamond Duo (39 page)

“What?” He stood to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Bertha, what’s going on? Why would you say something so foolish?”

She straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. “Because I caused Annie’s death.”

Thad gripped her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Don’t you say it again. You had no part in her death. That madman killed her for spite and greed. How could you think anything different?”

“No, it’s true. Abe got mad because Annie snuck out the night before. I asked her to slip away and meet me. If I’d left her alone, she’d still be alive.”

Thad stared at her so long she squirmed. With a groan, he crushed her to his chest. “Poor, sweet girl. How long have these tiny shoulders borne such weight? You need to lay it down, Bertha.”

The same words Papa had said to her.

“I have no right to lay it down.” She tried to pull away, but he held her.

“You had no right to pick it up. I saw how Abe treated Annie. He was bound to kill her eventually. Honey, if Annie wouldn’t get away from him, there was nothing you could do to stop it.”

She remembered Annie’s tortured face the night they met in the alley.

“He hurt me. He always hurts me.”

She saw Annie’s twisted arm, the tattered gown, the fear in her eyes at just the mention of Abe’s name. She ducked her head. “But I–”

Thad raised her chin with his finger. “It is not your fault.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. The only person who could’ve saved Annie from Abe was Annie.”

His words were a balm, each one a drop of warm, soothing ointment bringing the pardon she needed. Her heart opened a crack and light poured in–except in one dark, haunted corner.

“That explains why the Lord sent me on a mission to save her.
I brought about just the opposite. I failed Him miserably.”

“Now you’ve failed God, too?”

She tensed. Was he making fun? “Yes, Thad. I let my feelings for you distract me. Because of me, Annie died without God’s forgiveness.”

“How do you know that?”

She reached for the hankie she’d folded into her sash, but it wasn’t there. “I just know.”

He took her hand and led her back to the log, easing her down on his knee. “All right. What exactly do you think God told you to do?”

“He told me to tell Annie about His grace.” She felt for the hankie again. Had she lost it in the briars?

“And you had no chance to tell her?”

“I tried.”

“When?”

“The night before she died.”

“Did she listen?”

Bertha swiped the back of her hand under her nose. Unattractive, but necessary. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Did she run away from you or stick her fingers in her ears?”

“Of course not.”

“Then she heard you, Bertha. After that, the burden fell on Annie.”

“But it’s obvious I didn’t say enough.”

“What else might you have said?”

“That’s just it. I couldn’t say anything more.”

He scrunched his brow. “Why’s that?”

“Because. . .” The truth dawned, and Bertha raised her head. “Because she wouldn’t allow it.” For the first time since Annie’s death, she remembered. Annie had backed away, refused to hear.

Thad drew her next to his chest. “Don’t you see, goose? You did exactly what the Lord asked of you. Suppose God sent you to say those things to Annie knowing it was her last chance to hear? In that case, did you fail Him?”

His compassion broke her heart anew. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “No,” she whispered.

“And did you fail Annie?”

“When you put it like that, I guess not.”

He shook out a red bandanna and wiped her eyes then put it in her hands so she could blow her nose. “Sounds like you’ve been too hard on yourself on all counts.”

The train whistle blew again in the distance, one short moan followed by a long, heartrending wail. This time it mourned for Annie. “Thad, it breaks my heart to think that after her miserable life, Annie missed heaven.”

“Sweetheart, you may never know how God used your words in Annie’s heart. All we can do is obey and trust Him with the rest.”

“Can you trust God with the details?”

Papa had asked that question concerning her future with Thad. And look at the wonderful way God had worked out the details of their relationship.

Releasing the weight of guilt from her chest, Bertha drew in a deep breath and felt her heart surrender the last shadowed crevice to the light. She wrapped her arms around Thad’s neck and urged him close. His hands tangled in her hair, and his cheek slid along hers until their lips met.

“I love you, Bertha,” he said in a husky voice.

“I love you, too.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, I will.”

“And live with me in Humble?”

“Whenever you say.”

He withdrew to look at her. “You mean it?”

When she nodded, he got up and stood her to her feet. “It’s rough country, sugar, and that’s all I can promise you. You won’t have the comfort and convenience you’re accustomed to. We’ll be scratching out a life from nothing.” He studied her eyes. “It’ll be hard work, and you’ll be leaving behind everything you know. It might change you.”

She cocked her head at him. “Do I have to wear fancy shoes all the time?”

“You don’t have to wear shoes at all, unless you want to. There’s no one around to care.”

She raised her hands. “Hallelujah! Humble won’t change me. It’ll set me free.”

His expression turned grave. “Now the important question. What would you say to a yard full of bloodhounds?”

She giggled. “Woof, woof?”

Laughing, he picked her up and hugged her until her sides hurt. Then he set her on her feet and kissed her cheek. “We’d best go. I told your papa I’d find you and bring you home. If we don’t show up soon, he’ll send a posse.” He grinned. “I don’t want to get on the bad side of Francis Biddie. Especially tonight.”

She grinned, too. “What’s so special about tonight?”

“If you must know, we men have a lot to talk about. I plan to ask your father’s permission to marry his lovely daughter.” He winked and offered his arm. “I think I’ll wait until he says yes before I tell him about Humble.”

Bertha slid her arm through his and winked back. “Considering who we’re dealing with, you’d best wait until after the wedding.”

Saturday, March 10

B
ertha gazed around her bedroom one last time. The dressing table, cluttered since her youth with sundry items necessary for her toilette, looked oddly bare with everything packed away. It reminded her of the front window last Christmas after Papa took down the tree.

Remembering her cameo brush set still in the bedside table drawer, she lifted it out as she’d done a thousand times before, only this time she’d never put it back. It would soon be on its way to a place called Humble, Texas, in the company of Mrs. Thaddeus Bloom.

Shoving the brush and comb deep inside her velvet drawstring bag, Bertha set it near the rest of her luggage then smiled at the container of tooth powder, the one thing left behind on purpose. She caught sight of her image in the looking glass and backed away from the dressing table to see more. Preening a bit in her dress of white dimity with matching wedding bonnet, she jumped when Magda cleared her throat.

Bertha looked back and grinned. “Fiddlesticks. You caught me.”

“It’s all right to admire yourself today, sugar. You’re a lovely bride.” She pointed toward the hullabaloo in the dining room. “Everyone out there agrees.”

Bertha gave a playful laugh. “It’s unanimous, then.” She held her dress out to her sides and twirled. “It’s because I’m so happy, don’t you think?”

When Magda didn’t answer, Bertha glanced up. Her friend sagged against the door frame, both hands hiding her face.

Bertha hurried over and gripped her shoulders. “Don’t you dare. It’s bound to be bad luck for the maid of honor to cry at the wedding party.”

“I’m not crying,” Magda protested from behind her hands. “There’s something in my eye.”

She swiped her thumbs across Magda’s cheeks then held them up for her to see. “Which one? They’re both leaking.”

Laughing, they fell against each other and stumbled over to fall down on the bed. Magda rose up with red, watery eyes. “I can’t believe you’re going, that’s all. I’ve had you all to myself, and just like that, you’ll be gone. I’ve tried to be happy for you, but I’m going to miss you too much. How will I cope?”

Bertha kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed. “I know a remedy for that. Come with me.”

“Come with you? Where?”

Bertha grabbed her hands. “To live with me in Humble.”

“Don’t be daft. I couldn’t.”

“Why not? You wouldn’t have to come right away. You can wait a few months until we settle in a house.”

Magda shifted on the bed. “Papa would never allow it.”

“Oh, I think he would if Thad promised to look out for you.” She squeezed her fingers. “So you’re considering it?”

Magda flinched. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. If you’ve gotten to what your papa might say, you’re entertaining the thought.”

Magda shook free of her grasp. “Forget about it. It’s a scandalous notion. I wouldn’t think of intruding on you newlyweds.”

Bertha leaned close and widened her eyes. “Don’t be so hasty, dear. There’s a lot going on in Humble. A world of opportunity for a single girl.”

Magda tilted her head like a befuddled hound.

Bertha leaned hers back and laughed. “Men, sugar. Thad claims there are scores of unattached men. Mostly well-heeled gentlemen and businessmen looking for a place to settle. A few rough-and-tumble frontiersmen, too.” She winked. “And very few women to balance things out.”

Magda leaped to her feet and stood at attention. “You’ll find me on the next train.”

Bertha clapped her hands together. “Well, I should say so! After all, your piece of wedding cake had a ring inside. That means marriage within a year, so you’d best get busy.”

“Oh, pooh. It’s a silly tradition. Pretty little Rhodie got the thimble. There’s no way she’ll wind up a spinster. I think our pieces got switched.” She held up one finger. “Although when that rascal Charles Gouldy bit into the coin, it gave me hope. He’s sure to be prosperous someday, if it means he has to steal it.”

They heard a knock and turned. Mama stood smiling in the open doorway. “Such boisterous laughter coming from this room! What am I interrupting?”

Bertha waved her in. “Nothing that won’t keep. Come in.”

“I don’t need to come in, dear. You need to come out. Your new husband has scoured the grounds for you, perhaps remembering the last time you vanished.” She pointed toward the front of the house. “I left him straining his neck at the parlor window. Come put him out of his misery, won’t you?”

Bertha scooted off the bed and rushed to hug her. “Oh, Mama! I’m so happy.”

Mama beamed down at her. “It becomes you. I’ve never seen you more lovely.” She wiped her eyes with a lace hankie and kissed Bertha’s cheek. “Your guests are waiting for you to present your gifts, and you have such beautiful things.” She clasped her hands together. “There’s the most stunning appliquéd Rose of Sharon
quilt from Thad’s mother. I understand she made it herself. Do hurry, love. I want you to see it.”

Unexpected tears stung Bertha’s eyes. Though Papa called her “love” quite often, it was the first time Mama ever had. She linked arms with her. “Let’s go, then. Shall we?”

Bertha offered her other arm to Magda, and the three of them filed down the hall to the parlor.

Thad stood across the room, staring into the fireplace. In his dark suit, with flickering light on his face, he looked more handsome than she’d ever seen him. He glanced up, and Bertha sent him a little wave. A thrill tickled her spine when it seemed his breath caught at the sight of her. He waved back and moved toward her, stopping along the way for a quick word or a handshake with a guest. He finally reached her side, and Bertha’s own breath caught when his hand slid down her back.

“Where’ve you been, Mrs. Bloom?” he whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve missed you, too.”

She took his hand and made her way to the center table piled high with wedding presents. The men feigned interest at first then settled in the corner discussing the weather. The women circled the table, complimenting Mama’s embroidered pillow slips and sighing over Mrs. Bloom’s quilt.

A commotion in the corner caught her eye. Papa had spotted her and stormed her way. “So here’s the bonniest bride on two continents. Come along, daughter. It’s time to pronounce me blessing on this fine union.”

He took the newlyweds, one on each side, then stuck his fingers in his mouth and blew a sharp blast. All activity ceased, and the company crowded around them in a circle. Papa placed one hand on Bertha’s head. To the delight of his audience, he reached the other hand toward Thad’s, shrugged, then called for a chair. Satisfied, he began to speak. “Great God, one true God, I bring these precious souls before You, entrusting them into Your care.”

His fingers tightened on her head. “Bertha Maye Biddie Bloom, may your life be filled with plenty and your womb suffer no lack. May the love of your husband warm your heart and brighten your days. May the peace of the Lord Jesus Christ follow you all the days of your life.” He patted her head.