“Well, it’s about time,” she whispered. “I daresay, it’s about time.”
“Because our love story has been a bit unorthodox, we felt the ceremony should be, too,” Peter said. “So we made up our minds to get married in the middle of Main Street on a weekday, when no one was the wiser. Hope you don’t mind giving up a few minutes away from your businesses to celebrate with us.”
At this point, even more people appeared. It looked like the word had spread, because Mama and Papa rounded the corner with Elisha and Elijah not far behind.
“Before we get hitched, I just want to say one thing.” Sarah Jo looked through the crowd until she clamped eyes on Belinda. “I wouldn’t even be in this town if it weren’t for a certain young woman.”
“Oh dear.” Belinda shook her head and tried to scoot behind Greta and Aunt Hilde, but they nudged her forward.
Every eye turned Belinda’s way, and she felt her cheeks turn warm. Through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of George beaming from the opposite side of the street.
“If this darling girl hadn’t listened to the Lord, I wouldn’t be here now.” Sarah Jo nodded. “A’course, she brought me here to marry someone else, but that’s all water under the bridge now. The Lord knew what He was doing. And what she was doing.” Sarah Jo laughed and everyone joined her.
“It’s only fitting that we ask Reverend Billingsley and his wife, Marta, to join us,” Peter called out.
At this point, the reverend and Marta made their way up the street, arm in arm. The reverend carried his Bible and wore a smile brighter than sunshine. Belinda grinned as she watched them approach a very eager Peter and Sarah Jo, who now turned toward each other and clasped hands.
“I don’t believe it,” Greta whispered. “They’re really going to do it. They’re getting married in the middle of the street on a Monday afternoon!”
Belinda giggled. “Well, of course they are! What else would you expect from Sarah Jo and Peter?”
Marta took her place next to Sarah Jo, fussing with the bride’s veil. Then the reverend began the ceremony. The whole town stood silent as the words were spoken. Well, silent, at least, until a man on a wagon tried to pass through town—but he was quickly stopped at the corner and sent in a different direction.
The reverend had chosen his passage from the Song of Solomon. Ironic, Belinda thought. Thankfully, he chose with great discretion. As the words of love were read, the crowd fell into a holy hush. They might as well have been in church, for the spirit of the Lord hung heavy over the congregation. In fact, Belinda felt as surely as if the camp meeting had begun all over again.
Reverend Billingsley finished his reading and paused.
“Now I have something I’d like to read to my bride,” Peter announced for all to hear. “I know you all fancy me a poet. I’ve fancied myself one, as well.”
Sarah Jo punched him in the arm. “You are a poet, Peter Conrad. And the best I’ve ever heard, to boot.”
“Still, for an occasion such as this, I can only quote the best. And the person whose poems far exceed mine is a woman.” He chuckled. “I have recently determined that only a woman can truly capture the essence of love in words, though I will surely give it my best from this day forth. I want to recite a piece by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. For a woman like Sarah Jo, only the best will do.”
With a voice like honey, he began to quote the words from memory:
“ ‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight for the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints!—I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.’ ”
When the poem ended, there wasn’t a dry eye on Main Street. Belinda reached for her hankie then dabbed at her eyes. Through the crowd, she once again caught a glimpse of George. At this point, her tears came freely. Who would know the difference, anyway? Let them think she was moved by the poem.
She was moved by the poem, after all. It had spoken to her heart in a dozen different ways, for she had those same feelings...for George. She loved him with a childlike faith. She loved him with a love that seemed to surpass anything else—smiles, tears, even the very breath she took. She loved George Kaufman...and, oh, how she hoped he loved her, too!
When the people stopped clapping, Reverend Billingsley made his pronouncement. “And now, fine folks of Poetry, I’m thrilled to announce that Peter and Sarah Jo are now husband and wife. I give you Mr. and Mrs. Peter Conrad.” As the crowd roared with delight, Belinda could barely hear the reverend’s closing words: “What God has joined together, let no man tear asunder. You may kiss your bride, Peter!”
Peter swept Sarah Jo into his arms and planted a kiss on her that made several of the womenfolk blush. Belinda felt sure it made them a wee bit jealous, too. For while Peter was enthusiastic in approach, there could be no denying his love for the woman in his arms. And what woman wouldn’t want to be swept away in such a fashion? To be told in front of her friends and neighbors that she was adored? To be kissed with such fire?
A shiver ran up Belinda’s spine as she thought about all of those things. Oh, how she wanted them, too! How she longed to be told that someone loved her with such a love. The words of that poem touched the deepest places of her heart.
“I spent so much time fooling myself,” she whispered.
“What?” Greta drew near. “What did you say, honey?”
“I spent years fooling myself.” Belinda sighed. “All this time I’ve been saying I didn’t want that. Didn’t want love. Didn’t need to be married. And yet...”
She looked out across the street to George, whose gaze never left hers. He watched her with such tenderness that her heart gravitated to her throat. Turning back to Greta, she whispered. “For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” Greta whispered. “For the Red Sea to part?”
“Mm-hmm.” She gazed at the ever-growing throng of people in front of her, now unable to see him. Surely George was still over there somewhere. And when she found him...she would never let him go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
George watched the wedding with his heart in his throat. He’d never seen such an outward display of affection between a man and a woman, and it jarred him. In a good way. He wished for the courage to make a similar proclamation. Instead, he watched in silence. Sure, he paid attention to the ceremony, but beyond that, he kept his focus on the beautiful young woman across the street, the one he longed to sweep into his arms. Would he ever have the courage?
George listened as the reverend invited everyone to Stanzas for a wedding lunch. Looked like Peter and Sarah Jo had planned this thing well, for Katie Sue came scurrying down the street with a wedding cake in hand, which she proceeded to deliver to Stanzas with a smile.
Yes, they’d surely planned this for a while but had somehow managed to keep it a secret.
Funny how secrets could be kept. How big news could be kept under lock and key till just the right time. Oh, but when God turned the key in the lock and the appropriate moment came, what a difference it could make!
George looked across the crowd once more, seeking out Belinda’s face. She gazed at him with a hint of a smile on her face. And were those...tears in her eyes? He took a step into the street, determined to talk to her. If he didn’t, his heart would burst from his chest. Unfortunately, he ran smack-dab into Katie Sue and the wedding cake. She jolted, almost dropping it. George made a thousand quick apologies then helped her regain her footing. “So sorry!” he said.
“You need to be more careful, George,” Katie Sue said,
shaking her head. “You almost caused a calamity.”
“Indeed, I almost did.” He took his first step across the Jordan, pushing his way through the mob, past Reverend Billingsley and Marta, beyond Mr. and Mrs. Grundy, past Corabelle and James, to the boardwalk in front of Poetic Notions. For some reason, when he finally stepped foot onto the Promised Land, Belinda could not be found. “What in the world?”
He gazed through the packed street and now found her on the opposite side. “I don’t believe it.” She looked at him through the crowd, offering up a shrug. Had she crossed over to meet him? The very idea sent his heart a hundred different directions at once. If she’d crossed over to meet him, that spoke a thousand words. All good words.
“Belinda!” he called out her name and she stepped forward, eyes wide.
“I’m here, George!” she called out above the crowd. Her voice rang out, sending a chill down his spine.
“Meet me in the middle of the road!”
The townspeople swallowed her up as folks pressed their way into the crowded restaurant. He lost sight of her. However, determined not to give up, he forged his way through, more determined than ever. As he did, a familiar voice spoke.
“You can do this, George. Just speak your heart.” The firm voice stunned him. George looked behind him to see his father standing there. The older man placed a hand on George’s shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for this day for years, son. Now find a place where the two of you can have some privacy and tell her how you feel.”
“Yes, sir!” George worked his way through the crowd, stopping in the center of the street—the very spot where Peter and Sarah Jo had just tied the knot. He waved his arms and hollered, “Belinda!”
For a minute, he couldn’t find her. And with the sound of voices ringing on every side—happy voices raised in joyful exclamation—he wondered if she could hear him at all.
Seconds later, she appeared, with flushed cheeks and hair slightly messy. “G–George.” She stopped in front of him, offering a girlish smile. “Did you want me to meet you here?”
“I did.” Oh, how his heart raced! He begged it to be silent so he could hear himself think, but it would not! “There is something I need to tell you.”
“O–oh?” She brushed away a loose hair, and he reached to take her hand, refusing to let it go. In fact, he promised himself in that moment that he would never let it go as long as he lived.
“Belinda, I...” At that moment, someone bumped into him from behind, knocking him forward. He ended up in Belinda’s arms. Oh, happy day! He could not have planned this any better if he’d tried. Now in a comfortable embrace, he took his fingertip and brushed the loose hair out of her eyes. She gazed up at him, and for the first time he noticed her tears.
“No.” George shook his head. “No tears today. This is a happy day.”
“And these are happy tears,” she whispered, gazing up into his eyes. “I promise you. Nothing but.”
“Then cry all you like.” He grinned and drew her even closer. Funny, with the crowd of people pressing in around them, no one paid much attention. Not that he cared. No, even surrounded on every side, he still felt very much alone with the woman he loved. Oh, but he could hardly wait to tell her! If only the words would come.
He garnered up the courage to speak. “I have something to say to you, Belinda Bauer. Should’ve said it ages ago, but I’m a foolish man. I let other things get in the way.”
“O–oh?”
“Yes. And forgive me for not shouting it from the rooftops. That day will come. But I had to say it to you first. Had to let you know—”
Someone next to him let out a whoop and hollered, “Ain’t it grand, folks! Love is in the air!”
George laughed. “Well, that’s not exactly what I’d planned to say, but it’s not a bad attempt. Love is in the air and I do feel grand. Mighty grand, in fact. Can’t say as I’ve ever felt better, in fact.” He gazed into her eyes. Taking his finger, he traced her cheekbone. Belinda’s gaze shifted to the ground, but he gently lifted her chin so that they were eye-to-eye once again. “You’ve got to look at me when I say this, Belinda. I’ve waited too long, and I need to know you’re hearing every word. It’s too important.”
She looked up, tears now flowing, and nodded. “Y–yes.”
“Belinda, I told you once that I didn’t need a wife, that I was happy as a single man. I was wrong. In fact, I’ve never been more wrong about anything in my life, and you deserve to know it.”
“O–oh?” A smile turned up the corners of her lips.
“I was right about the part where I didn’t need you to fetch me a bride from out of state,” he continued. “In fact, I think I realized that almost from the beginning. In fact, I didn’t need anyone to fetch a bride for me, because the Lord already had.” He leaned in and pressed a tiny kiss on her cheek, and she flushed.
“Aunt Hilde once told me I couldn’t see the forest for the trees,” she whispered. “I think she was right.”
“Me too.” The crowd finally cleared the street, moving into the restaurant in droves. “I have no idea what took me so long, but Belinda, I’ve got to tell you before I crumble into a thousand pieces...I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you ever since we were kids. I just didn’t know how to voice it.”
“R–really?”
“Really. Every morning when I get to the shop, the first thing I do is look across the street to catch a glimpse of you. For years, we’ve had this street between us. But no more. This is my Jordan, and I have surely crossed it, never to return.” He kissed her wisps of golden hair on her brow, hair that both tormented and delighted him.
“Oh, George!” She flung her arms around his neck, her face wet with tears. “What took us so long?”
In that moment, it felt as if heaven and earth collided. George leaned down and, with the passion borne of years of waiting, kissed the woman he loved. She responded with the gentlest, sweetest kiss he ever could have imagined. Surely even a poem couldn’t do it justice. Afterward they stood silent, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“I’ve been as slow as molasses telling you all this. But no more. From this moment on, everything moves at lightning speed.”
“O–-oh?”
He dropped to one knee, completely undeterred by the fact that folks from both sides of the street had now taken notice of him. What did it matter? They were alone in the center of the street. God had arranged the perfect time, the perfect place.
Off in the distance, George heard Hilde say something. Then his father. He sensed the eyes of townspeople on him, but he didn’t mind. Not one little bit. No, the only thing that mattered right now was the woman in front of him, the one he planned to spend the rest of his life with.
***
Belinda’s heart beat so fast, she wondered if she might faint. Could this really be happening? She looked at George, stunned. “Y–you’re asking me to marry you?”
“I am.”
By now, half the crowd inside Stanzas was now back outside, gaping at the couple, including Greta and Sarah Jo. They looked on, clearly delighted with what they saw.
“Say yes, honey!” Sarah Jo hollered. “Say yes!”
Oh, she would say yes, all right. No doubt about it.
“Well, let me ask properly first,” George called out to all who were watching. “Belinda deserves a decent proposal, and I mean to give it.”
She brushed away her tears and focused on the man who knelt before her, the one the Lord had surely sent—not from another state, but from her own backyard. One who had loved her all along. one whose life rhymed with hers.
He looked into her eyes and, with a tremor in his voice, managed to speak. “Belinda Bauer, I love you with my whole heart, and I plan to go on loving you until I’m old and gray. I don’t have much to offer, but what I do have, I give freely. I would be the happiest man in Poetry if you would agree to be my wife.”
Belinda gazed down into George’s tear-filled eyes and whispered the words,
“You are the finest man I have ever known, and I would be honored to be your wife. I would love to marry you, George Kaufman.”
He jumped to his feet and gave her a solid kiss, and the crowd roared with delight.
Once folks settled down, he whispered into her ear. “That sapphire ring has been waiting in my shop for weeks. Months. Belinda, it was meant for you all along. Would you—would you be happy with it?”
“Would I!” She let out a squeal. “I can’t wait!”
He took her by the hand and sprinted in the direction of the barbershop. Once there, she waited at the door while he raced inside to fetch the ring. She giggled as he opened the box and pressed it on her finger. Sure, it was a little tight, but she didn’t mind. Not at all. There would be no pulling it off this time. No, this time she planned to wear it for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
On the first Sunday in November, a lovely fall day in the town of Poetry, Myles Lott took Adeline Rose Jewett as his bride. The congregation looked on with great joy. Belinda had never seen a more beautiful wedding. Sweet Catherine, who had settled in at school and become Sarah Jo’s prodigy for theatricals, stood up for her sister, wearing a lovely dress that Cassie had made. The bride wore white, an exquisite gown also crafted by Cassie. Corabelle, of course, took care of the veil.
Yes, it was a fine day for a wedding in Poetry. In fact, it was so fine that they decided to do it twice. As soon as Myles and Adeline tied the knot, John and Greta walked the aisle as well. Belinda stood in support of her cousin, with tears streaming down her cheeks as the “I do’s” were shared. She’d never seen Greta look prettier. In fact, her gown, which Hilde had worn on her wedding day years before, held special significance. Oh, if only Uncle Max could have been here to walk her down the aisle. Belinda’s papa had done the deed in his stead, of course, and done it well.
After the ceremony, folks nibbled on cake from Katie Sue’s new bakery, Couplets. Belinda stopped by to chat with Katie Sue, making final arrangements for her own wedding cake.