Authors: Allie Pleiter
S
urely my heart will explode, Nora thought as she stood trying to breathe in Reverend Bauers's study. I won't survive the day, much less the ceremony.
Papa caught her hand, the tenderest of looks in his eyes. “My brave Nora? Trembling? Surely it can't be the prospect of marrying Quinn to put such fear into you.” He was teasing her, dispersing the tension, but the edge in his voice gave away his own frail composure. “My baby girl, no longer a baby girl.” He sighed. “And hasn't been for some time.”
“Oh, Papa⦔ Nora couldn't hope to finish the sentence. A featherlight kiss on her cheek was his only reply, and Nora thought the combined lumps in their throats might render them speechless for the rest of the year.
The mission bell chimed the hour, signaling it was time for the ceremony to begin. Papa swallowed hard as he opened the study door and offered his elbow. “Best not to keep Corporal Freeman waiting. I imagine Quinn's current state would rival yours, impatient as he is.”
Nora's steps down the hallway felt heavy and ill-placed. She feared her grip on Papa's elbow was so tight he'd cry out any second. Not one part of her considered this wedding a mistake, and every fiber of her being yearned to be Mrs. Quinn Freeman, but the sheer enormity of the moment seemed to pound down upon her. In a split second's musing, she wondered if Reverend Bauers was having any luck keeping Quinn from pacing the altar.
A cascade of lovely notes wafted down the hallway. Mama's friend was certainly working wonders with Grace House's old, cranky organ. Despite all theâwhat was the word Mama had used?â“rustic” charm of Grace House's chapel, to marry Quinn anywhere else would simply seem wrong. Grace House, and all it stood for, was too much a part of her life and Quinn's to join them elsewhere.
Turning the corner to start down the aisle, Nora thought she'd simply cease breathing and fall on the spot. Until her eyes met Quinn's. His gaze erased the distance between them in a heartbeat, calming her with the warmth she saw there. She watched him go still, saw his shoulders settle from their panicked breaths, felt them find their home in each other's eyes as they would for the rest of their lives. She would always draw her strength from this man God had sent her. Just as she would always pull from within him the man God intended Quinn to be. They were, truly, God's gift to each other. The phrase seemed timeless now, instead of trite.
The ceremony unfolded around them and still she spent it transfixed in Quinn's eyes. Both mothers cried and kissed their children, vows were spoken, blessings
asked, rings exchanged. All of these things made them “married.” But it was the time-stopping kiss, the tender-sweet seal of their union surrounded by raised army swords and the enthusiastic pealing of the church bell, that made it real.
She was his and he hers. Today was full of joy and celebration. When tomorrow dawned, Corporal and Mrs. Quinn Freeman would deliver a new message to the world: all the hope their hearts could hold.
There really was a heroic postmaster during the San Francisco 1906 disaster. I chose not to use Arthur Fisk's real name or his personal details, but to base my story around his generous declaration to deliver mail regardless of postage. He says it best himself: “The Postal Service as a means of communication among hundreds of thousands of distressed people was, I believe, an untold blessing.” His awareness of how the littlest of things can hold back despair became the seed from which this novel grew. It is, of course, fiction. There was no Black Bandit (save a cheeky stagecoach robber in the 1880s), nor a Midnight Messenger. The U.S. Army, presented with the gigantic task of holding the city together in its darkest hours, did an outstanding job. While there was plenty of corruption to go around, the army marketeering in the novel is more my invention than any real historical suspicion. Careful researchers will note I've played a bit with the geography, and I trust they will forgive my liberties in service of the story. One important and amusing fact to relate is that, in fact, a record number of marriages and romances are attributed to the disaster. A good reminder that love does, indeed, conquer all.
Dear Reader,
You don't have to look far to find disasters these days. Personal, professional, regional, national and even global calamities threaten our hope on a daily basis. It is how we choose to respond, however, that makes us who we are. And lets God be who He is. Even the darkest of trials can hold great treasures if we are willing to unearth them. And nothing, ever, in the history of the world, has overcome the power of love. I hope this story helps you see the messengers of hope in your own life. I hope it inspires you to be a message of light into the darkness you can see around you. God never fails to equip us for that task, even when we feel least able. As always, I love to hear from you at alliepleiter.com or P.O. Box 4026, Villa Park, IL 60181.
With hope,
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6507-7
MISSION OF HOPE
Copyright © 2010 by Alyse Stanko Pleiter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.
® and TM are trademarks of Steeple Hill Books, used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
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