Twice a Bride (39 page)

“Willow said she’d meet me here. I’m sure she’ll be along in a few minutes,” Miss Hattie said.

He nodded and carried the glass plates to the table next to the tripod. “Thank you, again, for the supper last night.”

“It was my pleasure. My love of cooking is one of the reasons I wanted to open a boardinghouse.”

“I k-know Willow enjoys l-living there.”

“And it’s been thrilling to watch her flourish in the new life God has given her here.” Miss Hattie sighed. “You have overcome much as well. What an incredible journey you’ve had as a child with a stammer and as an apprentice on the move.”

“I’m th-thankful I’m not that child or that a-apprentice anymore.”

She nodded, bouncing the hat brim like an Oriental palm fan. “We’re all thankful you chose to settle here.”

“Thank you, m-ma’am. I am too.”

“Life is ever changing, even when settled in one place.”

He could certainly attest to that. Meeting Willow, working with her, and courting her this past week had changed everything. His business life, his spiritual life, and his personal life.

Miss Hattie cleared her throat. “Did Willow tell you Mr. Sinclair and I have set a date to be married? Thanksgiving Day. Don’t you think it’s a perfect day for a wedding?”

He met her gaze and offered her a slight grin. “I do, actually.”

When the realization of what he wasn’t saying dawned on her, she tipped her head and a generous smile lit her eyes.

The outside door opened, and he leaned toward her and whispered, “For now, it’s our secret.”

Miss Hattie pressed a gloved finger to her mouth and nodded.

“Willow?” He stepped into the main office just as Willow reached the end of the counter. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind about being my assistant today.”

“No. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

He gazed into her eyes, his soul drinking in the love he saw there.

She pulled an envelope from her reticule. “Susanna is gone. She left on the morning train.”

“I don’t understand. She didn’t ask me for the ticket I’d offered her. How did you—”

“Miss Hattie and I returned from the mercantile this morning and found this note from her.” Willow pulled a piece of stationery from the envelope and handed it to him.

He went from reading it with a smile on his face to trying to read through tears.

“I just came from the depot,” Willow said. “I felt compelled to see her off. Her being alone and all.”

Compassion ran through Willow’s veins. Yes, the reasons he loved her were filling his heart to the brim.

Miss Hattie was still in the studio, but he didn’t care if she stepped out and was a witness. He’d waited long enough.

Trenton laid the letter on the counter. “You, Willow Peterson, are an invaluable treasure.” He rested his hand on her cheek, trailed his finger down her face, then lifted her chin. Quivering, she leaned toward him. Their lips met, and her kiss was every bit as sweet as he’d imagined.

It wasn’t going to be Mr. Sinclair’s distraction that caused a problem during the sitting, but Trenton’s own distraction. Susanna’s chapter in his life story had come to a close. And Willow Peterson was proving to be an undeniable leading lady.

W
illow sat in her bedchamber, hooking her calfskin boots. Trenton had been courting her for two feverish weeks. Root beer sodas at the ice-cream parlor. Sitting together in church. Sunday lunch with the Sinclair family. Buggy rides. Walks to the library. Dinner with Tucker and Ida at the Third Street Café. But today felt different.

Trenton said he planned to take her somewhere special. Despite her persistent questioning, he refused to divulge the destination. She’d even told him she needed to know so she could dress appropriately. His answer still made her smile.
“You, my dear Willow, could dress in tatters and look lovely.”

The only hint she’d been able to tease out of him was that their destination involved a full day of travel. At breakfast this morning, Miss Hattie offered a few guesses, but they couldn’t be sure.

Willow captured the last button on her boot. Since he’d used the word
special
, she’d chosen to wear her burgundy walking skirt, her frilly cream-colored shirtwaist, and a bolero jacket for a dash of panache. She took the jacket from her wardrobe. Next, she pinned a black felt riding hat into place and slipped a pair of black crochet gloves into her reticule.

She glanced in the mirror and fussed with a sassy curl at her ear. Satisfied with her appearance, she smiled at the new woman looking back at her. She’d come a long way from being a girl paralyzed by grief and then a frightened Colorado newcomer. She was a businesswoman in love with an enchanting man. She laid her hand on the ribbon-trimmed ruffle at the bodice.
Sam would approve of her moving past her loss. He’d like Trenton Van Der Veer, and he’d want her to have a family of her own.

Here in Cripple Creek, God was giving her the chance to do just that.

Looping his black string tie, Trenton stood mesmerized by the photograph hanging on the wall in his bedroom. It wasn’t the printed image that truly enthralled him but the actual woman who had agreed to courtship. These past two weeks had afforded him the best days of his life, thus far.

He donned his sack coat and went to the kitchen for the picnic basket. Then he tucked a quilt under his arm and lifted his bowler off a peg on his way out the front door.

Jesse waved from the driver’s seat on a shiny black carriage. His friend had agreed to drive Trenton and Willow to their destination in style.

The rest was up to him.

And to Willow Peterson, the woman of his favorite dreams.

After subjecting himself to Jesse’s teasing, Trenton climbed into the carriage, leaned against the cushioned seat, and breathed a prayer for God’s guidance.

When Jesse stopped the carriage in front of the yellow boardinghouse, Trenton stepped onto the walkway that led to the front door. It seemed someone had stretched the walk since yesterday afternoon when he’d brought Willow home from the ice-cream parlor. Removing his hat, he stepped up onto the porch and rang the bell.

Footsteps in the foyer quickened Trenton’s pulse, but it was Miss Hattie who opened the door.

“Good day, Miss Hattie.”

The proprietor looked him over and smiled. “Why, Mr. Van Der Veer, if you aren’t a sight for sleepy eyes.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Given the r-right incentive, I can c-clean up pretty good.”

She waved him inside. “You always look polished, but today, well, there seems to be a little something extra.”

He winked. Determined not to divulge his plans, he swallowed his anticipation and looked toward the staircase. Willow stood on the landing looking like an angel.

“Trenton.” Her welcoming smile transported him to heavenly realms. “I’m ready.”

“Me too.”

Miss Hattie tittered. “You two are goners.”

“Yes ma’am.” He knew he, at least, qualified. He didn’t shift his attention from the adorable woman who took slow but sure steps toward him. The woman who had told him he was an answer to her prayers.

They had so much in common. When he didn’t even know what he needed or how to pray, God had answered him.

Ten minutes later, he and Willow were in the carriage, headed out of Cripple Creek, with Jesse at the reins.

“I asked J-Jesse to come along to d-drive so I could s-sit here with you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Do I look like I mind?” Willow placed her hand into his.

“Me neither, but J-Jesse may if a storm rolls in.”

Willow looked out the window at the blue sky overhead. “Just how long do you expect us to be gone?”

“All day.”

She brushed the quilt on the seat beside her.

“I put that there s-so you’d have to sit closer,” Trenton said.

“I figured as much.” She grinned and glanced at the picnic basket at her feet. “It might be a little brisk outside for a picnic.” She tugged at the lapel of her jacket. “But I suppose it depends upon where you’re taking me.”

“Exactly.”

Her mouth tipped into a demure smile. “So, am I dressed appropriately for our destination?”

“Perfectly.” He swallowed his amusement. “Would you like a clue?”

She pursed her lips.

“All right then.” He paused for dramatic effect. “David the psalmist asked God to l-lead him to it.”

“To what?”

“To something that is higher than him.”

Her green eyes flashed. “To the rock that is higher.” Her shoulders sagged. “You’re taking me to a rock?”

“Not to just any r-rock. We’re going to a rock that is higher. Dome Rock.”

Her dimples deepened, and his breathing became shallow.

They sat in comfortable silence as the carriage wound its way through grasslands, across a rushing stream, and into a ponderosa pine forest. As they approached massive outcroppings of Pikes Peak granite, Willow pointed to three bighorn sheep.

Jesse stopped the carriage in front of the most spectacular pillar. It stood hundreds of feet above the canyon floor. Trenton’s boyhood friend climbed down and peeked in the door at them. “All right, you lovebirds, this is Dome Rock. I’ll be takin’ my lunch sack over there.” He pointed toward a stand of bare aspen trees.

“Thanks, b-buddy.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jesse hooked a thumb in his coveralls. “I’ll bring the favor up later. When it best suits me.”

Trenton laughed, and Willow giggled.

Jesse waved and walked off, leaving them alone.

Trenton helped Willow to the ground. Turning toward the rock, he felt his jaw drop.

Willow faced the landmark. “It’s magnificent!”

They stood side by side, admiring the amazing sight. Emotion clogged his throat.
Help me get the words out, Lord
.

Trenton turned toward Willow and brushed the silken curl above her ear. “I like the psalmists. It’s like they speak for me when I can’t s-speak for myself.”

A tear spilled onto her cheek, and he wiped it away.

“God is the Rock that is h-higher than my past, my mistakes, my frustrations … and you led me to Him.”

Her lips quivered. “The Rock that is higher than losing a husband, or yourself.”

“Yes, and God is the Rock I want to b-build our life upon.”

“Our life?”

He pulled the ring from his waistcoat pocket. Holding it up between them, he looked into the emerald green eyes that seemed to peer into his heart. “Willow, I never expected to f-feel this way about anyone. But you have p-proven to be a most pleasant surprise.” He drew in a deep breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Her whisper echoed off the rock and landed deep in his heart.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Me too. Will you marry me?”

He chuckled. “That was my line.”

“Well then, yes!”

He lifted her chin and leaned into a kiss that felt like the promise of forever.

W
ednesday morning Willow sat at the game table, her fountain pen poised above a piece of stationery. In her last letter to Mother, she’d described her job with Mr. Trenton Van Der Veer, but she’d left any personal feelings out of the correspondence. She hadn’t even mentioned her boss being single. Perhaps, on the outside of the envelope, she should warn Mother to seat herself before reading the news.