Boxed Set: Deep in the Heart of Texas
“Have you settled on a date yet, Belinda?” Katie Sue asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I do hope you’re going to give me some breathing room between ceremonies.”
“Yes, we plan to wed just before Christmas,” Belinda said. “It’s going to be the prettiest winter wedding you’ve ever seen.”
“Here at the church, I imagine.” Katie Sue nodded.
“We haven’t decided yet.” Belinda shrugged. “I have a couple of other ideas, but we’ll let you know. At any rate, we will need the biggest cake you can make. We expect nearly everyone in town to attend.”
“No doubt they will come out to support you,” Katie Sue said with a smile. “You and George are both well-loved in Poetry.” Her eyes grew misty. “I know that I have come to love you as a sister, Belinda. And I’m not sure I can ever thank you enough for bringing me here. I’ve never been so happy in all my life.”
“Oh, I love you, too!” Belinda reached over to give her a warm hug. “And I’m tickled that we’re all becoming sisters. I had no idea it would turn out like this, but I’m thrilled that it has.”
“Since we’re sisters and all...” Katie Sue leaned in and whispered, “I guess it’s safe to tell you my secret.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Bucky and I are going to have a baby.”
“No!”
“Yes.” Katie Sue nodded and giggled. “I’ve only known for a few days, but I couldn’t wait to share the news with you. Oh, I’m the happiest girl on earth. And happier still, my parents have decided to move to Poetry. They are going to build a home near ours so that they can be close when the baby arrives.”
“Oh, Katie Sue, all the news is good.” Belinda gave her another hug. “Just be careful who you tell. You know how fast news spreads in this town.”
“News?” Sarah Jo drew near. “Someone has news?” She took one look at Katie Sue and squealed. “I knew it! You’re in the family way! When is the little one due?”
Katie Sue shook her head and laughed. Looking at Belinda, she whispered, “Why fight it?” then engaged Sarah Jo in a conversation, telling her everything.
Belinda left them to their own devices, looking for George. She found him sitting with her parents. As she came upon them, Belinda’s heart flip-flopped as always. Something about seeing the man she loved just sent her heart racing.
He looked up, a smile creasing the edges of his mouth. “Well, there you are. I thought you’d gone missing.”
“No, just chatting with friends.” She smiled and he rose to sweep her into his arms.
“Well, how about a chat with me?” he whispered. “Want to go for a walk?”
“Do I ever.” She smiled at her mother, who offered up a wink.
Belinda and George headed down to the creek, hand in hand. For a while, neither spoke a word. After they sat at the water’s edge, however, George broke the ice.
“Belinda, do you remember that day you came running into town and knocked me down?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “I was so embarrassed. But what brought that up?”
“Well, you said something that day that intrigued me. I’ve often wondered about it since but never thought to ask till now.”
“Oh?” She shrugged, the whole thing just a foggy memory now. “I can’t remember. What did I say?”
He grinned. “You said that one day I would thank you for running me down in the street. I’ve often wondered what you meant by that.”
“Oh.” She chuckled. “Well, actually, I was on my way to the post office to mail the letter to Corabelle, asking her to come to Poetry to take your hand in marriage.”
“Ah.” He laughed. “You mean the Corabelle who is happily married to James, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I always knew you would thank me if I ever found the right woman,” Belinda said. “And I suppose that’s what drove me all along...wanting your praise. Your approval.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “You certainly have it now. Though the road that brought us to this place was not without its pitfalls.”
“True.” She leaned against him and sighed.
“Remember that day in the mercantile when you told me I was lonely?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, George. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings that day.”
“No, it’s not that. I don’t think I was honest in my response, that’s all. I told you that I wasn’t lonely. That my work at the barbershop was enough. But I was wrong. Until I won your heart, I was the loneliest man in the world. I just didn’t realize it.”
“And I always argued against marriage, saying the Lord had other plans for me,” Belinda said. “Now I know His plans. No doubt in my mind.”
“No doubt in mine, either.” George gazed into her eyes with such tenderness that she thought her heart might burst. “I can honestly say I have never been more content.”
“Me either.”
They sat in silence for a period of time, listening to the sound of the water running over the rocks. “Tell me about the wedding plans,” George said finally.
“Well, after waiting such a long time, it needs to be a celebration no one will soon forget, don’t you think?” Belinda looked at him with a coy smile.
“I do.”
“Memorize those words,” she said, with a hint of laughter in her voice. “You’ll be needing them again.”
George chuckled.
“You know, I’ve had a revelation of sorts, George,” Belinda said, growing quite serious. “All this time, I wanted to make Poetry a place of great beauty. Wanted it to rival the big towns. In the end, it has become more beautiful, but you know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think the Lord’s real work wasn’t in the town.” She grinned just thinking about it. “It was inside of me. In my heart.”
“And in mine, as well.” George took her by the hand. “Not that I’m unhappy with the way the town is turning out. Things are buzzing along in Poetry, and it’s all for the good.”
“And all the better when the opera house is finished next month.” Belinda nodded, anxious to see it finished. Suddenly an idea came to her. “Oh, George! That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“The opera house!”
“What about it?”
“Why, it’s the perfect place for a wedding. We can fit the whole town inside. And our wedding will be the first performance on the big stage. What do you say?”
He appeared to ponder the idea. A smile played at the edges of his lips. “I think we’ve had a fairly theatrical run thus far, so it makes sense. And you know Sarah Jo will love it. She will want to arrange the whole thing.”
“And we will let her.” Belinda paused then laughed. “To a point.”
“Yes, please. Only to a point.” George grinned. “She tends to run a bit on the eccentric side, wouldn’t you say?”
“She does, but you have to love her.”
“Yes, I do. The Bible says so.” He gave Belinda a playful kiss. “So tell me more about this theatrical wedding of ours.”
With joy filling her heart, she turned to him and did just that.
***
George leaned back in the grass, listening to Belinda’s ideas. Every one felt right. Perfect for the two of them. They needed something special, something out of the norm. And no one could deny that getting married on the stage of the opera house would be memorable. If anyone deserved a special wedding day, it was the one woman who’d worked so hard to bring others together...in her own mismatch-making sort of way.
On and on she talked about their beautiful Christmas ceremony. George listened thoughtfully, chiming in when the opportunity arose. Most of all, though, he just loved listening to the sound of her voice. It rivaled the water running over the rocks in the creek below. And the excitement in her voice. Nothing could stir his heart quite as much.
Oh, Lord, my heart is so full. So full.
He closed his eyes, suddenly overcome. As he did, a memory ov
ertook him. That day in Peter’s office...he’d poured out his heart about Belinda. Told Peter every intimate detail. The things that took his breath away. The things that tormented him. The things that brought him joy.
Why had he shared these things again? So that Peter could compose a love poem. A love poem that, to this day, still remained unwritten.
In that moment, George decided to put together a verse for Belinda on his own. Why, with such love pouring from his heart, it would surely come as naturally as the water traveling across the rocks below. Indeed, it sprang from the very depths of his being.
Suddenly, George could hardly wait to look for pen and paper.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
On the crisp, cold morning of December fourteenth Belinda prepared herself for her wedding, paying particular attention to her long, blond hair. The house was a flurry of activity, for she was not the only one dressing for this event. No, the many young women who would stand up with her had all come to help, each decked out in blue dresses crafted by Cassie. The town of Poetry had never seen so many matrons of honor.
Belinda smiled as Greta showed off her gown. Then she turned her attention to Corabelle, who, in spite of her expanding mid-section, had agreed to be in the wedding as well. Prissy was next, followed by Adeline, Cassie, and Katie Sue.
Marta and Sarah Jo fussed over the bridesmaids and offered their help to Belinda’s mother, who seemed a bit frazzled. Finally, when all of the girls were ready, Belinda put on the white gown Cassie had made especially for today.
“Oh, Belinda!” Sarah Jo drew near with tears in her eyes. “You are the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen.”
“Better guard your flattery,” Belinda whispered with a giggle. “You’re saying that in front of a room full of recent brides, you know.”
“Oh, posh.” Sarah Jo waved a hand then dabbed at her eyes. “I told the others the same thing on their wedding days. No one cares.”
Mama entered the room and gasped as she clamped eyes on Belinda. Her tears started almost immediately. They stood together, facing the long mirror. Belinda stared at her reflection, hardly believing the transformation. Surely her tomboyish ways were behind her now. The woman staring back at her was sophisticated. Refined. Very ladylike, indeed. Hopefully George would agree.
George.
The moment his name flitted through her mind, Belinda’s heart came alive. She could hardly wait to get to the opera house, to walk the aisle and land in his arms.
Minutes later, Papa called for the girls to come to the wagon. They climbed underneath a half dozen quilts and made the journey to the south end of town, becoming the center of attention as the decorated wagon made its way down the street. Folks cheered all the way, many falling in line behind the wagon and walking the short distance to the opera house. All in all, it was quite a production, though the real show would take place inside. There, amidst a beautiful scenic backdrop of Christmas trees and twinkling candles, Belinda and George would exchange their vows. Then the whole town of Poetry would celebrate together with cake and punch. Katie Sue assured her the cake was the best she’d ever made.
When they arrived, Belinda and the other women made their way to a room on the side of the theater. Once there, she gathered her friends together and waited for their cue to enter the opera house. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the activity going on in the auditorium. Surely by now most everyone was seated. Sarah Jo would take her place at the piano, and the girls would walk up the aisle. Then, that magical moment she had waited for would take place at last. She would take George’s hand...and his heart...as her own.
***
George stood backstage at the opera house with his groomsmen. He’d never seen the menfolk of Poetry so done up outside of a Sunday morning service. George took a final look at himself in the mirror, checking his hair for the hundredth time.
“She’s going to marry you even if every hair isn’t in place.” His father slapped him on the back. “But just so you know, you look dashing.”
“Thank you.” George embraced his father. “I can’t believe this day is finally here. I’m so excited.”
“Have you seen the inside of the opera house?” his father said. “The ladies did a wonderful job of decorating it this morning. Looks like Christmas all over the place in there. Candles, trees, you name it. And that setup on the stage is pretty incredible. There’s a hand-painted backdrop. Looks like something from a big city Christmas production.”
“We have Sarah Jo to thank for that.” George’s heart swelled as he thought about the outpouring of love and support that he and Belinda had received from the community, particularly from those most recently wed.
Peter stuck his head in the door. “George, you almost ready? Sarah Jo is sitting at the piano. Listen for “Joy to the World.” That’s your cue.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” George said with a smile.
Peter took a step in the room and drew near George, brushing off the back of the groom’s jacket. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that day in my office when we talked about poetry.”
“That’s funny.” George gave him an inquisitive look. “So have I.”
“Well, I shared some of my thoughts with you that day,” Peter said. “But I left out the most important thing. Perhaps it will be of some benefit to you today.”
“What’s that?”
“I have heard it said, and have often said myself, that the best poetry is not always written with words.”
“What do you mean?” George asked.
“I mean, our lives are the greatest stories we will ever write. And if we write them well, others will read those stories and learn from the things we’ve done. How we’ve lived. How we’ve treated others. It’s all in there.”
“Ah.”
Peter nodded. “George, I want you to know, your life is an amazing poem. You and Lord have written it well. Your story isn’t ending today. It’s just beginning a new stanza, a fresh verse. And I have a feeling the lines left to be written are going to be even better than the ones you’ve already experienced.”
“There’s a scripture that says the same thing,” Reverend Billingsley said as he entered the room. “It’s found in Haggai chapter two, verse nine, to be precise. ‘The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of the former, saith the Lord of hosts: and in this place will I give peace, saith the Lord of hosts.’ ”
George gave him a curious look, not quite understanding his full meaning.
“The latter things are greater than the former things,” the reverend explained. “The best is yet to come, my friend.”
“Well, amen to that,” George said. “The past has been really good, so I can only imagine how wonderful the future will be.”
In that moment, the familiar melody of “Joy to the World” rang out. George gathered his groomsmen and began to make his way onto the stage. From there, he would have the best view in the house when Belinda, his beautiful bride-to-be, made her way down the aisle.
He slipped a hand into his pocket, checking to make sure the poem was still there. Breathing a sigh of relief, he entered the stage and gasped as he took in the magnificence of the room. Oh, Lord, who has a wedding in such a place? This is breathtaking. He stood at center stage with the reverend and Mayor Mueller, who had agreed to share the honor of performing the ceremony. His groomsmen took their places to his left.
The back door of the theater opened, and the first matron of honor entered. Cassie made her way up the aisle and onto the stage. She was followed in steady succession by most of the town’s most recent brides, one after the other. George did his best to stifle the laughter that threatened to creep up. He’d never seen so many brides converge upon a place in all his born days.
Oh, but the best was yet to come!
As Belinda appeared at the back of the room on her father’s arm, his breath caught in his throat. Nothing could compare to the sight of her in that white dress. George whispered a praye
r of thanks to the Lord and then waited with anticipation for his bride, the one he loved more than life itself.
***
Belinda walked the aisle on her father’s arm, her heart beating so fast she felt as if she might faint. She hardly had time to take in her surroundings, though she knew the opera house was glorious. She had seen it in all its beauty earlier today. No, the only thing she focused on now was her husband-to-be, her perfect match. The one the Lord had given her from the start.
As they drew near the front, Belinda resisted the urge to hike up her skirt and race up the steps onto the stage. Instead, with her father’s arm to lean on, she gingerly ascended, in front of the crowd, to George’s waiting arm.
Once on the stage, Papa kissed her on the cheek and placed her hand in George’s. Belinda found herself humming “Joy to the World” all over again as her heart swelled within her.
She and George took a few steps toward the reverend and Mayor Mueller.
The reverend opened in prayer and began the service. He started by gesturing to the married couples lining both sides of the stage. “All of these couples had a rather poetic beginning,” the reverend said. “But none more poetic than today’s bride and groom. For what can surpass the story of two people who’ve cared about each other all of their lives, finally realizing they are in love? No, they did not cross the miles to find each other. In fact, they only had to cross Main Street. But the miracle of their story is as grand as if they’d come together from opposite sides of the globe.”
At this point, the mayor took over, offering the exchange of rings and the vows.
Afterward, George pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Belinda looked at him with some degree of curiosity, intrigued. He read in a voice that trembled with an odd mixture of stage fright and emotion, but Belinda could hardly believe the beauty of his words.
From Jordan’s shore, I catch a glimpse
Of golden hair upon the wind;