Cattleman's Courtship (14 page)

“No. Thank goodness.” Cara tried to inject a note of relief into her voice, but in the past two weeks she’d been happier at work than she’d been for the past three years.

As to what that meant for her job in Montreal, she didn’t want to ponder.

Uncle Alan gestured toward the Bible. “So, you started reading that again?”

Cara looked down at the book. She’d received it from her aunt and uncle when she graduated from high school. She had read it once in a while, but after her mother’s death, she had put it away.

“I don’t know if it’s going to help,” Cara said. “But lately I feel like I’m stumbling around in the dark—”

“God’s word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” Uncle Alan gave her a gentle smile.

Cara laughed lightly. “Yeah, I guess I’m at the right place then.”

“What are you reading?”

“I’m just paging through the Psalms.”

“What are you looking for?”

Cara sighed as she flipped another page. “Guidance. Direction.” She ran her fingers lightly down the page, as if trying to read the words by touch. “I don’t know what’s happening in my life anymore, Uncle. I have a plan. I know what I’m going to do and yet feel…lost.”

“Are you talking about your job in Montreal?”

“It’s a good job, Uncle Alan. I’ll be able to do some traveling and I’ll be challenged and there’s lots of room for upward movement and career advancement.” But as she spoke, Cara kept her eyes on her finger, still tracking the words in the Bible.

“Who are you trying harder to convince? Me or you?” he asked gently, leaning back in the chair, the light from her bedside lamp reflecting off his glasses.

Cara looked down at the Bible again and laughed. “I don’t know. Both, I guess.”

Uncle Alan heaved a heavy sigh. “If that Gordon fellow wasn’t coming I could give you a job here—”

“I don’t want a job here.” The words fairly jumped out of her.

“I hope you’re not so adamant because you don’t want to be working with me,” Uncle Alan joked.

Cara riffled the pages of the Bible with one hand. “Of course not. I would love to work with you.”

“So then I’m guessing it’s Nicholas?”

Cara’s head snapped up. Uncle Alan just smiled.

“I may be recuperating from a heart attack, but I’m not blind.”

“I never thought you were.”

“Be careful, Cara,” he said. “Don’t let your past feelings interfere with your current situation.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Cara said. “In fact as soon as his cattle are tested he’s going on an overseas job. Something more hazardous than the offshore rig work he used to do.” Her voice caught, the emotions and weariness of the day piling on her.

Thankfully Uncle Alan didn’t say anything. Instead he reached over and gently took the Bible from her unresisting hands. He angled his head up so he could see through his bifocals, licked his finger and turned a few pages. Then he handed the Bible back to her.

“Read this, my dear. Psalm 139 up to verse 18. Maybe that will give you some comfort.”

Then he got up, bent over, brushed a kiss over her forehead and left.

As the door closed softly behind him, Cara swiped at the lone tear trickling down her cheek, blinked the rest away and bent her head to read.

“‘Oh, Lord, You have searched me and know me,’” she read, “‘You know when I sit and when I rise. You perceive my thoughts from afar.’” Cara stopped there, her mind ticking back to a time when the idea that God knew her thoughts frightened her. But now she realized God now knew her confusion.

And her fear.

She read on, letting the poetry of the words nourish and seep into her soul. “‘Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.’”

As she read, it was as if hands rested on her shoulders, easing away the burden she carried there.

She thought of what her aunt had told her, that though she may have turned her back on God, He was still there. Still waiting.

Deep in her soul, she had always known that.

She closed her eyes and let her heart rest in God and rest in His love.

He had to be enough for her, she realized. She had to stop thinking she needed more than God.

“Forgive me, Lord,” she prayed. “Help me not to look for happiness and contentment in other people. Help me to only seek You first.”

And as she slowly released her hold on her plans, her life and her heart, peace stole over her soul.

And slowly she struggled to release her changing feelings for Nicholas into God’s care.

Chapter Eleven

“A
re you okay?” Trista held Cara by the shoulders, staring into her eyes.

Cara adjusted the gauzy veil on Trista’s head and frowned. “Why are you asking me? Today is your wedding day.” She knelt and fluffed up the dress, then stood back to admire her friend.

Yesterday she was wound as tight as a spring, making last-minute calls to the caterer, to Nicholas, to the minister, to Trista’s mother. But it had all come together.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay with Nicholas and all that.”

“I’m fine. Trust me.” And just to underline her statement, Cara gave Trista a bright smile, then turned her to face the mirror. “Look at you. You look amazing.”

Trista’s dress had been worn by her mother and altered to fit. The style was simple, but elegant. Raw silk gathered on one hip by a jeweled pin, then fell in rich folds to the ground. The veil belonged to Lorne’s mother. Just a simple layer of gauzy netting and a bandeau covered with a remnant of silk taken from the dress.

Cara looked over her friend’s shoulder, smiling at their shared reflections—her blond hair pinned back on one side with a single flower, Trista’s dark hair surrounded by a halo of white. “Remember the wedding plans we used to make?” she whispered, as if unwilling to disturb the moment.

“You always knew what you wanted,” Trista said, reaching behind her for Cara’s hand. “And just for the record, this should be you. You used to talk about getting married way more than me.”

“Just silly games,” Cara said, trying to laugh off Trista’s concern. Dredging up old dreams and memories was a waste of time.

Trista turned and caught Cara’s other hand and gave them a light shake. “I still believe you’ll find the right person.”

“Thanks, Trista, but today is your day.” Cara adjusted her veil and wiped away a tiny smudge of mascara from her cheek. “And we’re not discussing me anymore.” She glanced around the room, looking for the bouquet.

Nicholas had cleared out an empty bedroom in the house for Trista’s changing room and had found an old, full-length mirror. Probably an antique, Cara guessed, from the aged wood framing it. Probably something his great-grandmother used.

Trista ran her hands down the raw silk of her dress and placed her hands on her stomach. “I don’t show yet, do I?”

“Not even the tiniest bump,” Cara assured her.

She saw a florist’s box on the bed and pulled out Trista’s bouquet. The bouquet was made of white roses offset with blue larkspur tied loosely together with a blue silk ribbon matching the blue silk of Cara’s dress.

Cara’s bouquet was made up of blue larkspur.

“So you go first, then I do, right?” Trista asked with a grin. “Or is it the other way around?”

“I told you we should have had a rehearsal,” Cara said.

“As Lorne says, what’s to rehearse?” Trista leaned closer to the mirror and dabbed at her lipstick. “We’re not doing anything fancy.” She pressed her lips together then inhaled deeply, her hand on her stomach. “Besides, there wasn’t time. Lorne and I barely got the marriage classes done.”

“We’ve been to enough weddings. I’m sure we’ll figure it all out,” Cara said, though on one level, she was thankful there hadn’t been a rehearsal either. Spending an evening with Nicholas at a wedding that had been based on her own plans was difficult enough. Two nights in a row would have been too hard.

You’ve got a good job waiting,
she told herself.
A job that will finance any trip you might want to make. You can go anywhere and do anything.

Just like your mother did.

Cara ignored the mocking voice. Her mother had a child that she left behind. She was leaving no one behind in her life. No hearts would break when she left.

And after she had spoken to Uncle Alan, she had drawn more comfort from the Bible. God would not leave her and that was enough for her.

A knock at the door made them both jump. “Are we ready?” As Trista’s father came into the room, he shook his head in amazement.

“My girl,” he said, with a little hitch in his voice. “You look so beautiful.” He embraced his daughter and Cara caught the shimmer of tears in his eyes.

And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t jealous.

She had Uncle Alan and Aunt Lori and she was thankful she still had both in her life. If she were to get married, he would walk her down the aisle.

Yet that didn’t seem the same as a father who had raised her from a baby, who had seen every step of her growth, looking with pride at his own daughter on this momentous day.

Trista’s father pulled back and he shook his head, as if he couldn’t understand himself how the years had slipped away.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” he said. “You’ve been a blessing to me and your mother and I pray you will be a blessing to Lorne.”

Trista wiped a tear and Cara’s throat thickened at this precious moment.

“Now, let’s deliver you to your future husband.” Mr. Elderveld patted her shoulder and gave her a bright smile.

They walked together down the stairs of Nicholas’s house and down the wooden steps of the verandah. Ahead of them were the rows of chairs where the guests were seated. Pots of flowers lined the grass aisle, flanked the arbor and hung from the crosspiece, creating a riot of color set against the stunning backdrop of the mountains.

Soft music played from hidden speakers, adding to the ambience.

And as they approached, Cara saw the minister, Lorne and Nicholas already waiting.

Nicholas wore a navy suit and light blue shirt, echoing the colors of Cara’s simple sheath. The shirt softened the gray of his eyes, giving them an azure tint.

The music changed, and Cara walked slowly toward the front. She kept her focus on the people in the audience smiling their encouragement as she walked past. She saw her aunt and uncle sitting in the crowd. Uncle Alan gave her a wink and Aunt Lori just smiled.

Then as she came to the front and took her place on the other side of the pastor, she chanced another quick look toward Nicholas.

This time he looked directly at her. His features were impassive and she wondered what was going on behind those gray-blue eyes of his that shifted away so quickly.

And why did that bother her?

Then the music changed to a solemn wedding march, everyone stood and Cara forced her gaze back to Trista. The gauzy veil framed her serene face and her white dress shimmered in the afternoon sun.

The smile on Trista’s face transformed her and joy for her friend rippled through Cara. She looked so peacefully happy that Cara couldn’t stifle another small jolt of jealousy.

That could have been me and Nicholas.

Cara gave Trista an encouraging smile and then Trista had eyes only for Lorne. Lorne met Mr. Elderveld, then took Trista’s hand and led her to the arbor.

A soft breeze and the faint buzzing of bees sifted through the air as the pastor looked around the gathering as if to underscore the solemnity of the occasion.

Then he faced Lorne and Trista.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the marriage of Lorne Hughes and Trista Elderveld. That we are all gathered as friends and family is important…”

It had all come together, Cara thought as the pastor spoke, her eyes ticking over the plants hanging from the arbor, nestled against the sides and hanging from hooks down the aisle. Though she hadn’t been here to supervise, everything looked exactly as she had planned.

After that emotional moment with Nicholas, she had stayed away from the ranch, preferring to give instructions via Lorne and get updates via Trista. While she and her aunt decorated cupcakes and helped make table runners from the safety of her aunt’s home, Cara heard the lawn on the yard had been mowed and the arbor set up.

An excited phone call from Trista had told her the wedding dress was finished and the bridesmaid dress had arrived at the store in Calgary. She had heard that Nicholas rented a tent and got the chairs from the church. Nicholas was taking good care of the plants. The hay was baled but Nicholas was still crabby.

Yesterday Cara had told Lorne’s brother how she wanted the chairs arranged and where she wanted the hooks and which plants to hang on them.

She’d immersed herself in her work and wedding plans and, with a lot of self-discipline and prayer, had managed to keep thoughts of Nicholas at bay.