Serendipity (12 page)

Chewing on her lower lip, she thought about it, then nodded.

“There are different kinds of love. Between us, there is already Christian love. Since that is understood, I will talk about romantic love. You are most fair – so beautiful to look upon. Happiness glows on you, and your hair is a crown of glory I would relish taking down at night.” He indulged in lifting his right hand a little higher and finally discovering the softness of her hair. Up this close, faint freckles showed beneath the scarlet of her cheeks. He’d love to brush them with his fingers, then his lips. . . . He cleared his throat. “Physically, I am drawn to you – but to call such attraction love is to . . .”
Lord,
please give me the right words.
“To say such stirrings are love is like us calling one apple an apple pie. It cannot be a pie until many other important elements are included.”

Blushing from his earthy honesty, she dipped her head. “What other elements?”

Todd cupped her cheek and tilted her face back to his. “Faith. It is vital. Hard work. Nothing worthwhile comes easy. Honesty and forgiveness – they are the soil of trust and cleansing rain. If you think on it, those things are what it takes for love to blossom in a sound marriage – for God to be the head, for the husband and wife to work hard and honor one another, and for them to appreciate the special gift of unity marriage brings. From all this, love and a family grow. On these things do you agree with me?”

“They seem . . .”

Don’t say reasonable. It would be the same as saying no.

“Sensible.”

“What is not sensible is that I want to kiss you silly. So now I ask you two questions. Miss Rose, will you marry me tomorrow, and – ”

“Tomorrow!”

“My farm – I must get back to it.” Todd didn’t pause to take a breath. “Will you marry me tomorrow and permit me the joy of a first kiss now?”

“Now?” Tension sang through her, but Miss Rose didn’t blurt out a refusal.

“Come here.” Drawing her into a loose embrace, he sighed. She failed to hug back, turned her face to the side, and rapid breaths warned a firm denial was still a heartbeat away. “Shhh. Quiet your heart. Under normal circumstances, such questions deserve consideration.”

“Then why ask me for an answer now?” A plaintive quality ached in her voice.

Resting his cheek against her soft, fragrant hair, he murmured, “In this situation, there is no luxury of time. I’m not proud to push so fast. Neither am I ashamed.”

“You ought to be,” she muttered. “You didn’t take my no for an answer and are debating like a Yankee senator.”

At least she’d gone from tears to being disgruntled. He could handle anything but tears . . . or a refusal. “On my tenth birthday, my father directed me to pray for the woman who was to become my wife. Each day for a whole decade I’ve lifted that girl in prayer.” Gently tipping her chin so their faces were inches apart, he said, “You are the one. Of this I am sure.”

She pulled away. “Anyone could claim that. A woman would be a fool to act on a man’s say-so.”

“You have time today to think and pray. Deep in your heart and soul, you will see God’s will.”

“What I need,” she sighed, “is a burning bush like God provided for Moses.”

“Moses hesitated at first. Still he set out on the journey.”

She arched a brow. “He was concerned because he couldn’t speak well. I, on the other hand, more than make up for that lack.”

“Then you can come with great confidence.” Todd stepped to the side and kept his arm about her waist. “You promised me another ride. I’m claiming it.” Of all songs, the fiddler started to play “Johnny Todd.” Todd sang along,

“If you’ll wed with me tomorrow

I will kind and constant be.

I will buy you sheets and blankets

I’ll buy you a wedding ring.

You shall have a silver cradle

For to rock the baby in.”

Pushing free, she went whiter than the snow. “Mr. Valmer, Uncle Bo takes notions at times. If he’s put you up to this, you didn’t have to go through with it. For true, you didn’t. I’ve a happy life here. Their bothersome nagging to make a strange mountain girl your wife is scarcely reason to ask.”

“You have it wrong.” Pulling her into the lee of his body, he stared into her wide eyes. “This is all my idea.”

Mr. Valmer’s proposal set off a cavalcade of emotions. He wanted her? It wasn’t at Uncle Bo’s urging? For true? They’d scarcely met, yet she felt . . . tingly. Confused. Undeniably impressed by his strong presence and protective ways. His thoughtfulness. And, she admitted, his deep voice and warm looks disturbed her in a thrilling way. Yet fear gripped Maggie. How could she ever leave Uncle Bo? And Carver’s Holler? Jerlund and Paw-Paw? Her uncles?

She shouldn’t pass more time with Mr. Valmer, allow him so close if she wasn’t seriously considering his suit. Before, it was innocent fun – now it wasn’t. But Maggie had promised another sled run. She endured the tumult of emotions long enough to sled twice more, then claimed she needed to go see to lunch.

Ever since proposing, he’d called her Miss Margaret. No one ever called her that – unless they paired it with Titania, and then she knew she was in trouble. Hearing the sound of her full name on this handsome buck’s lips confused her even more. Formal, yet oddly personal. She still addressed him as Mr. Valmer, though. If Uncle Bo heard him address her informally, he was liable to plunk himself square in the middle of everything.

When they returned home, Uncle Bo was waiting to meet them about twenty yards from the barn. “Margaret Titania, I need to have a word with you.” Slowly, she nodded. They needed to talk. Alone. Uncle Bo looked at her with an intensity he reserved for the few times she’d gotten herself into a sore and sorry mess. She shivered, but not from the cold. A chill swept through her soul, warning her of the utter desolation she’d feel if she left Uncle Bo.

“I will put the sled away.” Mr. Valmer strode off.

Her uncle took her hands in his. “Margaret Titania, I’ve important things to say.”

“So do I. Uncle Bo, I love you. You’ve been with me – ”

“For a long spell. Todd Valmer’s a good man. Could you come to respect him?”

The question caught her off guard. “I already do. Look what he’s done for his mama and how he’s helped out everyone I love.”

“I’m wanting to see you settled with a godly man, one who’ll fill your heart with love and house with laughter. If it means I travel a ways to dandle your children on my knee, so be it.”

Most of what he said was a repeat of his marry-you-off speech. But the part about him having to travel was new. It never occurred to Maggie that she’d leave the holler, but Uncle Bo suspected it. How could she do without his wisdom and insight?

A bittersweet smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Growin’ you up as I have, I can read your heart like your daddy could read a book. Don’t let your worries for me and the others hold you back. Elding’s got women coming in who can cluck and fuss over us.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Aye, but to everything there is a season. Glowing inside you is a spark I recognize well. Your mama and aunt both wore the same radiance, and it gained more luster every year. Love’s budding in your heart, and happily-ever-after dreams are beckoning you.”

She couldn’t deny her feelings. Were they that strong, though? Love? Could her heart have turned to a man she barely knew?

“I’m shovin’ you outta the nest, Magpie. Even if it means that man don’t ask until he puts his foot on the train, you fly away with him.”

Rattled by his order, she gulped. “He asked.”

A rusty chortle bubbled out of Uncle Bo. “The boy didn’t let grass grow ’neath his boots.”

“You suspected?”

Her uncle nigh unto bust his buttons. “More than that. He asked for your hand last night.”

“And you didn’t warn me?”

“Stop fighting the inevitable and take care of essentials – like your legacy.”

Maggie folded her arms across her chest. Mr. Valmer didn’t even know about that. Goodness only knew he’d tossed every other skill and tradition into his argument. But her legacy was rooted in the holler. “My legacy dictates I stay. A duty to the generations before me rests on my shoulders. I owe them – ”

“A daughter to whom you pass the legacy. All the history and generations gone by are for naught if you die without passing those roses on. They crossed the ocean and took root in this holler six generations back.” Uncle Bo wagged a finger at her. “With the weather gone so cold, the bushes are dormant. Couldn’t be a better time to take ’em to a new home. By the time you get settled in and have a plot ready, they’ll be eager to grow and bloom.”

“Uncle Bo . . .”

“Maggie-mine, you’re a woman full grown. Stop clinging to your past and open your heart.”

Leaning against a barren tree, Miss Rose stared toward the house. Todd made no attempt to muffle his steps. Edgy as she was, he owed her fair warning that she wasn’t alone anymore. “Tell me you see a burning bush and have made up your mind.”

She turned to glower at him. “Uncle Bo made up
his
mind. For me. I haven’t decided anything, but he’s in there, packing my things!”

“Your uncle is a ball of fire.” Todd waited a heartbeat while she nodded. His lips twitched. “God used a pillar of fire to direct Moses and the Hebrews. When the time came, they left quickly. Look where it got them.”

She turned away, buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders shuddered.

He moaned. “Miss Margaret, there is no call to weep.” He moved so his chest grazed her back and wrapped his arms around her. She couldn’t muffle the sound any longer.

Turning, she looked up into his eyes. Choked laughter shook her voice. “Have you forgotten all the wars the Hebrews fought throughout the exodus?”

Relieved she wasn’t crying, he gave her waist a tiny squeeze. “No doubt we will disagree on occasion, but the only weapon would be the sword of truth.”

“Next you’re going to tell me the pillar of fire will bake that silly apple pie of love and the sword will cut it.”

“Nein. I misspoke. I will have to get a sword – to fight off men when they discover how well you cook.” He softened his voice. “But the apple pie – that will be something only you and I share. Come, Miss Margaret. Be my bride.”

She studied him. Indecision played across her features. At long last she set her jaw and lifted it, and his heart missed a few beats. “I’m a magpie through and through.
If
I agreed, would you allow me my treasures and legacy?”

Six silly boxes and one more thing mattered that much to her? Undoubtedly she’d fill a crate with her clothing and a few more with kitchen necessities and bedding. All brides brought such essentials to their marriage. She’d expect that, and they needed those things. Ten. Maybe twelve crates, considering her magpie-like nature. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Yet she scrutinized his face. He hoped and prayed she’d see what she sought in his steady gaze. A slow exhalation shivered out of her. Hesitantly Miss Rose extended her hand, as if to shake on a business deal. “Then I’ll marry you.”

“Come here, my little magpie!” He brushed aside her hand, swept her up, and spun around. She let out a shriek of laughter and insisted on being put down. He leaned close and rubbed noses with her. “Margaret?”

“What?”

“Waiting to kiss you was worth it.” His head dipped.

“Was?!” She jerked away. “Oh no. You promised me all day today. You got my decision about marriage, but you asked about the kiss separately. You won’t have my kiss until tomorrow.”

He groaned. Loudly.

It wasn’t until almost the end of lunch that she spoke to him again. “Mr. Valmer?”

“Hmmm?” A spoonful of jam hovered an inch from his lips. He felt guilty as a hound with a maw of feathers – about the jelly, not about coaxing her to wed him.

“I’d like to make a proposal.” She rushed on, “If, perchance, you went home and your mother stayed here awhile, then you and I could wed comfortably.”

Ma shouted, “Absolutely not!”

Seven

“Absolutely not!” Mrs. Crewel repeated. “I’ll not stay here one minute longer than necessary. Furthermore, girl, you have no couth or manners. A lady waits for the gentleman to propose. She doesn’t pounce upon him and decide they’ll wed.”