Linda Ford (8 page)

“Are you sure I should?”

“Very sure.”

He kissed her. “I’ll be there.”

She hurried away to face her parents. She did not look forward to informing them Buck was staying in town and she intended to be his friend and more, but she faced them with determination and gave her little speech. “All I can say is this—Buck is a good man and I am honored to know him. I want your approval, but if you refuse it I must follow my heart.” Father looked shocked and she hurried from the room before he could speak.

The next afternoon she met Buck at the church and they arranged the bounty people had brought in all morning—sheaves of grain, huge orange pumpkins, baskets of potatoes, branches of red leaves, jars of beans and beet pickles. “There is so much,” she murmured as they stood side by side admiring the rich display.

“This bounty is nothing compared to what’s in here.” Buck pressed his palm to his chest. “My heart is full to overflowing. First, that a woman like you could love a man like me.” His eyes filled with wonder. “Secondly, that I have found a place where I belong.”

“You belong right here.” She pressed her own palm to her chest. “Where my heart overflows with love and gratitude.”

“Gratitude?”

“Yes, for a man such as you to love. And that you didn’t leave.” She’d told him how her father had sent so many of her friends away without her knowledge.

“I discovered it’s hard to walk away from a pretty
woman.” He pulled her into his arms. “Even harder to walk away from love.”

She raised her face. “Isn’t it amazing that we discover our love at Thanksgiving?”

“It’s really a season of bounty,” he murmured before he claimed her lips.

As she prepared for the service that night, she prayed Buck and Rosie would be welcomed as she believed they should be.

She walked with her parents toward the church, thankful they did not take her to task about her decision. The evening was pleasantly warm, unstirred by a breeze. Stars glistened overhead. At the church the milling crowd hummed with anticipation. It had been a bountiful year and people were grateful.

As they drew closer, Kathleen noticed a little boy who looked up at the stained-glass window and said, “He’s smiling at me.”

Kathleen sniffled as she saw that the child looked into the face of Jesus. She signaled to her parents. “It’s Joey, Buck’s boy.” She glanced about, located Buck standing next to Rosie across the yard. She pointed him out to her parents. “I’m going to welcome them.” Without giving either of them a chance to suggest otherwise, she made her way through the crowd to Buck’s side and reached for his hand. She greeted Rosie.

Buck smiled and squeezed Kathleen’s hand. “Joey is fascinated by the stained-glass window.”

“He sees the love of Jesus.”

Kathleen felt a nudge at her elbow and turned. “Mother?”

“Would you introduce your friends?”

Bursting with joy at this welcome, Kathleen did so. She looked about for Father. When he saw her silent invitation, he stalked across and allowed himself to be introduced before he backed away. It was a start. After that, several others welcomed the newcomers.

“Thank you,” she whispered to her mother.

“You made me realize if I thought more of others and their needs, I’d have less time to dwell on my aches and pains.”

Kathleen wrapped her arm around Buck’s and they joined the movement toward the door. Tomorrow everyone would sit down with family and celebrate their gratitude. Kathleen would enjoy dinner with her family. Then she’d join Rosie and Buck and their children for another bountiful feast.

Tonight they shared their hearts of thanks with their church family. She sat at his side and sang hymns of Thanksgiving with more joy than she’d ever before known.

And the way Buck smiled down at her, she knew he shared her gratitude.

K
athleen checked the table set for eight. The best china and crystal shone. She wanted these guests to be treated with every honor they’d have bestowed on any of her father’s business associates. She turned to her mother. “I’m so grateful that you invited Rosie and Buck and their children for Thanksgiving dinner.” This morning her mother announced that Cook had been instructed to prepare more than originally planned, and she’d sent a messenger to Rosie’s house to ask them to share the meal with them. Kathleen had hugged her mother with joy and anticipation.

“It seems we are about to be closely associated with them. Besides, I do believe it will be fun to have children at the table for a change.”

Kathleen refrained from saying it would be a welcome change for her. Not only the children, but also to have people she cared about sharing the day. “You’re sure Father is okay with this?”

Her mother’s smile seemed a trifle uncertain. “No
matter how your father feels, you can count on him to conduct himself in a hospitable way.”

“That’s true.” She glanced at the mantel clock. Dinner would soon be ready. Suddenly overcome with nervous energy, she hurried to look out the window. Would Buck be comfortable in these formal surroundings? Would he win the approval of her father? Then she sucked in a calming breath. Her father might know how to conduct himself in an acceptable fashion, but so did Buck. More than that, Buck had learned to meet slighting glances without flinching. She prayed it wouldn’t come to that. “Here they are.” She left the window, then returned. “There’s another man with them. Who could it be?” He held baby Lilly in one arm. Rosie clung to his other side. “It must be Rosie’s husband. Quick, put out another place.” As her mother did so, Kathleen rushed to the door. But her father was there ahead of her.

“I’m the host. I’ll invite them in.”

So Kathleen waited as her father opened the door. Buck stepped forward and offered his hand. Kathleen’s father took it without hesitation. Then Buck introduced the man at Rosie’s side. “Her husband, Bill.”

“I hope you don’t mind that he’s come along unexpectedly,” Rosie said.

“Not at all,” Kathleen assured her.

Bill shook hands with her father. “The boss gave us all a few days off and said to go visit our families. Last chance to get out before Christmas. I jumped at the offer.” The way he smiled at Rosie and
the children said better than words how much he’d missed them.

Rosie stole a furtive look around the hallway and peeked into the front room. “So this is your house.”

“Want a tour?”

“Oh, I couldn’t.” Then she grinned. “But I’d love to.”

“Come along, then. All of you.” She led them down the hall. “Father, you, too. After all, it’s your house.”

Her mother joined them, too, and they traipsed from one room to the next.

Rosie’s eyes grew more and more round, but Buck’s expression seemed tight. Kathleen edged up to him. “What’s wrong?” They dropped back so the others wouldn’t hear them.

“I can never compete with this. All I can offer you is a simple home, probably a lot like Rosie’s.”

She pressed a hand to his cheek. “You can offer me more than that.”

He shook his head, not understanding.

“You can offer me your warm love. It’s better than anything these rooms can give me.”

The tension fled from his eyes. “That I can certainly do.”

The others had disappeared into yet another room. Buck took her hands between his and held them to his heart. “Kathleen, I love you more than words can tell. I want to spend the rest of my life with you making you happy, sharing both our joys and our sorrows. Will you marry me?”

Her heart thrilled within her. She’d been a tiny
bit worried he might want to hold off asking her this question. But she had no doubts. No hesitation. “I will gladly marry you.” They kissed quickly as they heard the others returning. But his eyes promised more later.

Joey rushed to them. “Buck, they got all sorts of rooms but nobody to live in them. Just empty rooms for things.” Then his voice saddened. “Grown-up things. No toys.”

Kathleen glanced at her father, wondering what he thought of this assessment of his fine house. He drew back as if the words had hit him in an unfamiliar spot. Then he blinked and relaxed visibly.

“I suppose we are sadly lacking in things for children. Perhaps, young man, you’d like to come shopping with me this week and help me choose things to remedy the situation.”

“You really mean it?”

Father nodded. “I never say things I don’t mean.”

“I’d like to do that,” Joey said, “if it’s okay with Buck.”

Buck readily agreed.

Kathleen sidled up to her father. “Thank you.”

He squeezed her shoulder but said nothing.

“Dinner is served,” her mother called, and they filed into the dining room. A golden roasted turkey sat before her father’s place, stuffing spilling from its cavity. Other bowls held heaps of mashed potatoes and a variety of vegetables. The white tablecloth provided a perfect backdrop for the china, crystal and silver. Sunlight streamed from the window and hit
the china cupboard, sending shards of rainbow light across the table.

“Oh,” Rosie gasped. “It’s beautiful.” And it truly was.

“Thank you.” Kathleen’s mother sounded pleased. She indicated where each should sit.

Kathleen and Buck sat on one side of the table with Joey at Buck’s side. Buck took her hand under the table and squeezed it.

Her father glanced around the table. “I wish to welcome all of you today. We are honored to have you in our home. Traditionally at this time of year, we share what we’re thankful for. I’d like to begin.” He turned to Kathleen. “I’m proud and pleased to have a daughter who is bold enough to stand up for her own beliefs. Even against her father.”

Kathleen blinked back tears and Buck chuckled, his grip growing firmer.

Bill spoke next. “I am grateful for a job and for a wife and kids to love.” His voice choked at the end and Rosie’s eyes glistened with tears.

“I am blessed to have a friend like Kathleen,” Rosie said, and Kathleen sniffled even as she smiled.

The little boys spoke. Junior said he was glad to have a cousin to play with and Mattie, stumbling over the words, said he liked having a mama and papa. Lilly, too young to speak, sat on her mother’s knee and grinned.

Kathleen looked to her mother at the end of the table, wondering if her parent would realize how much she had to be thankful for.

Her mother cleared her throat before she began. “A few days ago I considered myself a lonely, useless woman, but thanks to my daughter—” she reached for Kathleen’s hand “—I realize that my vision was too narrow.” She indicated the room. “I have so much—a fine husband and a generous daughter. Plus the means to help others, and with my husband’s blessing I intend to do more of that in the future.”

Kathleen’s heart clogged with emotion. “Mother, you make me so proud.”

Then it was Kathleen’s turn. She could barely speak for the emotions overwhelming her. “I don’t know where to begin. I’m grateful for my parents. For my upbringing. I’m grateful for my new friends—”

“You mean me, too?” Joey asked, his voice anxious.

“I mean you and Buck. I love you both very much.”

Joey nodded his pleasure and only then did Kathleen let herself meet Buck’s eyes. His gaze burned with love and gratitude and a whole lot more that she hoped he’d tell her once they were alone.

Her father tapped the table to bring their attention back to the others. “Buck, what are you thankful for?”

Buck chuckled. “I expect everyone here already knows. It’s Kathleen. Her love has set my heart free. Sir.” He faced her father. “She has agreed to marry me. Do we have your blessing?”

Kathleen drew in a sharp breath and held it. This was a lot for her father to take in at once. He studied Kathleen for a moment. She could see that he struggled with his desire to have her marry well, in a way
that would perhaps improve his position in the eyes of others. “Father, I love him.”

He nodded. “Then you have my blessing.”

“Thank you.”

Buck echoed the thanks.

“And you, young man.” Her father turned to Joey. “What are you thankful for?”

Kathleen could see that despite any initial reservations he had, her father was charmed by Joey’s directness and keen observation.

Joey flashed a grin to everyone. “I glad for everything and everyone.” His eyes settled on the waiting food. “Mostly I very glad we don’t have to eat rabbit.”

The adults laughed at his comment.

“I think we better eat.” Kathleen’s father prayed and then began to carve the turkey. Food was passed, and everyone relaxed and visited like old friends.

Kathleen glanced about the table. Never before had she enjoyed such a Thanksgiving feast in this place. “I am so blessed,” she murmured, not caring if anyone heard.

But Buck, attuned to her as he was, leaned close. “God’s bounty overflows to us.”

She held his gaze a moment, forgetting everyone else. Life with this man would be a continual sharing of God’s love. “I love you,” she whispered.

“And I love you,” he whispered back.

What greater bounty could either of them ask for than this precious shared love?

Dear Reader,

I loved Thanksgiving Day when I was a child. It meant a trip to a small country church where special services were held—an annual tradition. A two-or three-hour service took up the afternoon. In this service the local men got up one after another and spoke for ten or fifteen minutes, telling us what they were thankful for. Then we had a break that allowed the children to go outdoors and run about in the dusty grass of fall while the meal was set out. Turkey, all the fixings, mounds of mashed potatoes, vegetables and salads and then a stunning array of pies. Mmm-mmm good. Another, shorter service was held in the evening. I loved the socializing. I loved the food. I loved hearing what people were thankful for. So when I was asked to write a Thanksgiving novella, I jumped at the chance. I hope you catch a bit of the thankfulness my characters felt. And may each of us learn to be more thankful.

I love to hear from readers. Contact me through email at [email protected]. Feel free to check on updates and bits about my research at my website, www.lindaford.org.

God bless,