Authors: Kathleen Morgan
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Romance
After dancing to the orchestra for an hour or so, Beth decided it was time to retire. Noah, once again surprised but secretly pleased at his unabashedly forthright wife, readily agreed. While he reclined in one of the plush chairs in their suite, Beth, her nightgown in hand, disappeared into the bathroom with its full accoutrements of sink, flush toilet, and claw-foot bathtub.
After a time, however, Noah began to wonder what was taking his new wife so long. Had she suddenly had an attack of shyness? Or, even worse, regretted marrying him or developed a sudden fear of the marriage bed?
Finally, Noah went to the bathroom door and knocked. “Beth? Are you all right in there?”
“Y-yes,” came the muffled reply. “I . . . oh, Noah!” The door opened and Beth stood there in her lace-trimmed night–gown, her eyes red, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Dismay filled him. Noah pulled her into his arms.
“Whatever is the matter, sweetheart? Was it something I said or did? If so, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. Just tell me, and I’ll make it up to you.”
“I-it’s not y-you,” she sobbed, laying her head on his chest. “It’s m-me. Me!”
“You? Whatever have you done?”
“I-I know it’s silly of me to dwell on this so, but I always . . . always dreamed of this night with you. How it’d be so special because you were my only love, and I’d saved myself for you. It—my innocence—seemed like such a wonderful gift to give to the man I loved. But it’s too late. I’ve squandered it. I’m sorry, Noah. I’m so s-sorry.”
He held her close as she wept as if her heart would break. A bewildered sorrow filled him. What could he possibly say to ease her pain?
Her innocence would have indeed been a wondrous gift, one he would’ve honored and cherished forever. But there was nothing to be done for what had been given away. What mattered now was healing, once and for all, the grievous wound tormenting Beth’s soul.
“Your sin was long ago forgiven, sweet one,” he said, lifting her face to kiss her tenderly on the forehead. “You must put it behind you now, and not bring it into our marriage.
As for me, I’m so happy to have you as my wife and so excited at the prospect of our life together, my heart is too full to dwell on what is past. I love you, Beth, just as you are.”
She gazed up at him in joyous wonderment. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve told me you loved me?”
He realized she was right. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say the words. That must have hurt you.”
“I knew you loved me. I was willing to wait until you recognized it and felt you could say it.”
At the consideration of the gift she had so willingly offered, in trusting him, in giving him the time he needed, a great love swelled in Noah. “It’s hard to give yourself to love again,” he said softly, “once you’ve been hurt in the loving. Yet, strangely enough, in that loving and loss, the experience stretches you, opens you wider to even more love, if only you find the courage.”
Lifting a finger, Noah gently wiped away her tears. “Among all the other wonderful things you’ve done for me, sweetheart, you’ve helped me overcome that fear. You, being the woman you are, overwhelmed my defenses, made it so I finally saw I lost so much more hiding behind them than I ever risked daring to love again. I’ll never forget that, Beth.
“And,” he added, slipping an arm beneath her legs and lifting her up close to him, “more than anything else you might have wished to give me, I think that’s the best wedding present I could’ve ever had.”
There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit.
1 Corinthians 12:4
“You know,” Noah said the next morning as they luxuriated in the big, elegant hotel bed, “I must confess to a tiny twinge of jealousy the evening before our wedding, when I left the rectory to visit you at the hotel and found you chatting away with Ian Sutherland in the dining room. I almost imagined he’d returned home just in the nick of time to rescue the fair maiden from the dragon.”
“And you being the dragon, of course,” Beth offered from her warm, comfortable haven on her husband’s chest. “Hmmm, I hadn’t seen it quite that way, but now that you mention it . . .”
Are all males so possessive when it comes to their women? she wondered. It certainly seemed so, if a man as kind and generous as Noah could experience such feelings. Though she had no intention of exploiting his possessiveness, a part of her was pleased at the discovery.
Noah chuckled. “Well, be that as it may, it’s too late now for any last-minute rescuing. After last night, I mean.”
Beth levered herself up to look into his eyes. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He shrugged, but a smile continued to play about his well-molded mouth. “No, just sure of how happy you’ve made me. And of my love for you.”
She considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Well, in that case, I think you deserve another kiss. But only because you’ve the most beautiful lips, and I don’t think I’ll ever, even in another fifty or so years, get tired of kissing them.”
As she spoke, Beth lowered her head, and Noah, apparently just as enamoured of kissing her, gently clasped the back of her neck and held her mouth to his, working a tantalizing magic that only made Beth hungry for more. Finally, though, she pulled away. If they kept at this much longer, they’d end up spending the whole day in bed.
“So,” she said, “we’ve got today and tomorrow to sightsee, eat ourselves silly, and just enjoy being together. What are you interested in doing?”
He studied her from beneath half-lowered lids. “Besides staying in bed all day with my beautiful wife, you mean?”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Yes, besides that. How about a steam locomotive ride up to the top of Pikes Peak? Believe it or not, in all the years I’ve lived in the area, I’ve never been up to Pikes Peak.”
Interest flared in Noah’s eyes. “Well, I’ve never been to the top, either. Let’s do it!”
Excited now, Beth grabbed the complimentary information sheet she had taken from the main desk. “Hmmm, let’s see . . . Seems the steam locomotive has been making the ascent since the 30th of June, 1891, when the first run was made carrying a church choir from Denver. An auspicious beginning, I’d say, if ever there was one.”
“What time’s the next run?”
“In two hours, it seems.”
“Then we’ve got just enough time to enjoy this remarkable bathroom and its big tub before heading on out. Care to join me?”
“I’d love to.” Beth hesitated a moment. Maybe it didn’t need saying, but she was going to nonetheless. “Just one thing, Noah.”
He arched a brow. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”
“You don’t ever have to be jealous again. You’re the only man of my heart, and always will be.”
“I know, Beth.” An ardent look burned in his eyes. “It might have taken me a while to see that, much less accept it, but I do finally know.”
It was great to be home. Home at the rectory. Until Noah carried her across the threshold two days later and set her down in the entry, Beth didn’t realize how much she had missed the place, and how right it felt to be back once more.
She stood there, savoring the familiar scent of beeswax-rubbed furniture, fresh-baked bread, and sun-warmed wood, until Abby, who had volunteered to stay at the rectory and care for Emily in their absence, happened down the stairs. With a smile of welcome, she hurried over.
“So, how was your honeymoon?” she asked. “Did you two enjoy yourselves?”
Beth glanced up at Noah. “Oh, yes. We had a wonderful time. Didn’t we, Noah?”
“Yes, a wonderful time indeed,” he replied, looking lovingly at his wife before turning to his new mother-in-law. “Beth insisted on seeing all the usual tourist sights, though, and plumb wore me out. I told her I needed to come home and get back to work, just to get some rest.”
Abby laughed. “Well, what matters is you enjoyed each other’s company.”
“Hardly a problem. We had most of that worked out long before we married.” Noah paused to look around. “Where’s my daughter? How did she do with us gone?”
“Emily was a bit fussy the first day. She settled down nicely, though, what with all the visitors when Conor, Evan, and Claire came to help move Beth’s things over from the hotel. And she especially enjoyed playing with Erin and Sean.”
“After all that company and excitement,” Beth said, “Emily’s going to find our homecoming positively tame.”
“She’s just been put down for her afternoon nap. You’ll at least have time to relax a while before she wakes. In the meanwhile, I can call your father to come to town and fetch me. Knowing that brood of mine at home, I’ll bet the laundry’s piling up as fast as the dirty—”
The sound of footsteps on the front porch drew Abby up short. She looked from Beth to Noah.
“Were you expecting someone? I certainly wasn’t.”
A sharp rap came at the door. Noah walked the few feet across the entry to answer it. Mary Sue Peterson stood there.
“May I come in, Father Starr?” she asked, her voice wobbling. “I . . . I need to speak with you.”
Abby and Beth sat at the table, toying with their cups of tea. Neither spoke much, well aware Noah and Mary Sue were just down the hall in his study. Finally, though, Conor arrived. After a bit more small talk, Abby left with her husband. Beth carried her and Noah’s bags up to the bedroom they’d now share, then checked on Emily. She was still sound asleep, curled on her side, her light blond hair matted damply to her face, her long lashes brushing the rounded swell of her rosy cheeks.
In slumber, Emily looked like any other child, healthy, normal, full of limitless potential. A lump formed in Beth’s throat. Here she was, a doctor, and she couldn’t give her husband what he wished for most—a cure for his daughter’s terrible malady. All she could do was be there for him and for Emily. All she could do was help them both live out the lives that had been given them.
That’s all anyone could do, Beth mused. Accept their gifts and limitations, bring them to their greatest fruition, then joyfully offer them back to the God who had first given them. It was much like the servants in Matthew who had been given the extra talents. Some had done more with the talents than others, and when the master returned, he found great pleasure in the servants who had invested wisely. But he turned his back on the foolish ones who, through fear and ignorance, had not only failed to increase their gifts but had even hidden them away.
That was the greatest tragedy. Not what one was given, however little it might be, but failing to see its glory and redemptive promise. As it was with Emily, whose crippling ailment seemed like such a mean gift, but who was nonetheless a happy child, bursting with a God-given potential all but hidden from most eyes.
With a tear-filled gaze, Beth turned and tiptoed from the room. What a blessing this beautiful child was, a blessing that touched all their lives. In her own simple way, Emily had so very much still to teach them.
Emily, God’s gift to her, and now her very own little daughter.
A troubled look on his face, Noah awaited her in the kitchen. Beth walked up to him.
“What’s wrong? Has Mary Sue left?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s on the verge of hysteria. I came to get you.”
“Is it Harlow again? Is he beating her?”
“Yes. Just nowadays he takes greater care not to leave any marks where they can be seen easily. And she’s afraid to go home.”
Anger swelled in Beth. “Then she shouldn’t. Will her parents take her in?”
“I hadn’t thought to ask her that.” Noah sighed. “I just hate for them to separate. How can they possibly find some—”
“They need to separate, Noah,” Beth ground out the words, “because if they don’t, Mary Sue might not live long enough for them to reconcile. Not that I hold out much hope of that happening at any rate. If he won’t admit his fault and try to remedy it . . .”
“I’m going to go see Harlow right now and talk with him. This has got to stop. Here and now.”
She grabbed him by the arm. “Be careful. Perhaps it’d be a good idea to have Jake Whitmore with you. When his back’s up against the wall, I’ll bet Harlow’s a pretty dangerous man.”
“Bringing Sheriff Whitmore along would only make things worse,” Noah said. “It’d cause talk at the bank, and that might set Harlow off for sure. And you forget. I’m capable of defending myself.”
“Sure, if it came to blows, I’m certain you would be, what with all your boxing experience. But what if he drew a gun on you, Noah? Fists aren’t a lot of help against a gun.”
He chuckled, pulled her to him, and kissed her on the cheek. “Harlow’s not that irrational. He’s just a very angry, confused man.” Noah released her. “Now, why don’t you go ahead and see what you can do to calm Mary Sue down, while I pay Harlow a visit and try to get him to come back to the rectory with me? They need to talk, and this is the best place to do it.”
“Fine,” Beth muttered, still not convinced she cared all that much for his plan. “I’ll go see Mary Sue. All I can say, though, is this is a really poor way to spend our first day at home.”
“The day’s not over, sweetheart. But in the meanwhile, this is the work the Lord’s given us to do, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” Beth agreed grudgingly before turning and heading toward Noah’s study.
When Beth entered the room, Mary Sue took one look at her, twisted her tear-streaked face into a mutinous glare, and stated flatly, “I’m not going back to him. It’s over, Beth. It’s over.”
“Okay.” Beth walked to the other armchair placed before the window and sat. “Did you really think I’d try to talk you out of leaving Harlow?”
Mary Sue looked out the window. “Well, Noah all but did. Sometimes I wonder whose side he’s on.”
“He’s on God’s side, Mary Sue. To that end, Noah tries to honor God’s laws, one of which is upholding the sanctity of marriage vows.”
“Which, of course,” the other woman said bitterly, “is far more important than my physical well-being or my life.”
“You know better than that.” Beth leaned forward and laid a hand on Mary Sue’s knee. “Noah cares for you. But he also cares for Harlow and wants to do all he can to save your marriage—if it truly can be saved. That’s why he left, to go talk with Harlow again.”
“Harlow won’t listen. He’s started telling everyone it’s all my fault. That I’m inflicting all my injuries on myself because I’m imbalanced, crazy even.” She grabbed Beth’s hand. “But I’m not crazy, Beth. You believe me, don’t you? No matter what, you’ll stand by me against Harlow?”
And what if Noah ended up standing with Harlow? What would she do then? Whose side would she have to be on?