The Shadow Portrait (46 page)

Staring at his wife with incomprehension, Oliver managed to gasp, “Gone? What do you mean—
gone?
”

“You’ll have to try to understand, Oliver. She wanted to talk to you, but she was afraid that you would never understand, and I gave her my permission.”

“Alice, tell me what’s going on. Permission to do what?”

“All right,” Alice said and seemed to grow calm. “I will tell you. She’s on her way to England with Phil Winslow.” Alice watched stark amazement sweep across Oliver’s face
and added quickly, “They’re going to be married tomorrow at George’s church, and they’re leaving immediately afterward for England. They’re going to stay there for their honeymoon until fall.”

Oliver stood there stunned for a moment. He looked as if his world had fallen apart, and his lips began to tremble slightly. “But . . . but I don’t understand.” Then suddenly he
did
understand. He dropped his head and a wave of guilt came crashing down on him. “If I’d only been more understanding, this wouldn’t have happened,” he said. He felt Alice’s hand on his arm, and then she put her arms around his neck.

“She loves him so much, and he loves her, too. And he’s had a great success with his painting. Come let me tell you about it.”

Oliver allowed himself to be led over to the couch. He sat down heavily, his mind swimming, only half hearing what Alice was telling him about Phil’s good fortune in his profession. All he could think was,
Cara is gone. My little girl is gone . . . !

“Now don’t be nervous, Cara,” Mary Ann said. “It’s only a wedding.”

Cara was not wearing a proper wedding dress. There had been no time for that, but she did have on a brand-new garment she and her mother had picked out that very morning. It was a beautiful evening dress made of white silk, with teardrop pearls edging the neckline and the hem and a pattern of similar pearls adorning the skirt front. She had completed her outfit with a pair of white satin elbow-length gloves and carried a small bouquet of white and pink roses, with pink ribbons trailing down. She looked lovely, and now she smiled as she saw Mary Ann’s hands tremble and heard the quaver in her sister’s voice.

“If you’re this shaky at
my
wedding, how will you ever make it through yours, Mary Ann?”

Laughing at herself, Mary Ann said, “That’s right. Oh, I’m so excited, Cara. It’s the most romantic thing I ever heard. It’s like something out of a novel.”

“A very bad novel,” Cara said and smiled. She had spent a final night in her prison room and had lain awake for some time worrying about her father. But finally she had committed herself and Phil and her family to God, and to her surprise, she had slept better than she had in years. She had arisen early and gone with her mother to buy the dress she now wore so elegantly. As she stood in the entrance of the church, she could hear the organ filling the sanctuary with wondrous music.

George Camrose’s congregation had grown so much over the last few months that they had been able to relocate to a lovely church building only a few blocks from their small storefront church. Cara looked through the glass door into the wood-paneled sanctuary. The tall stained-glass window in front, depicting Jesus in prayer, His eyes lifted toward heaven, gave Cara peace that her relationship with Phil could only have been given her by God. She stood in awe at the new life He was giving her this day.

She picked up the bouquet of flowers and quietly waited, and soon Mary Ann said, “There, that’s my cue.” She kissed Cara on the cheek, then hurried in, leaving her to stand there alone. In those few moments alone, Cara prayed silently for her father, and for herself, and for Phil. It all seemed like a dream to her to be leaving for England with a man she loved with all of her heart after being confined in her room for so many years. At last she’d be free to discover and enjoy a whole new realm of experiences. She had gone to Dr. McKenzie, who had been shocked more than she had imagined. He had not been able to take it all in, but finally, when he was made to understand that she was going to be married, and she was going to England, he had said finally, “Well, bless you, my dear, and I’ll pray that God will give you a long, happy life.” He had stared at her and added, “It grieves me to think that
I may have had a part in keeping you cooped up when you should have been outside, but you’ve found your way at last. God be thanked for that!”

Suddenly Cara heard the familiar strains of the bridal march, and taking a deep breath, she opened the door and started down the aisle. The church was half filled, despite the suddenness of their plans. Mary Ann and her mother, and others of her friends had gotten the word out. She saw Jolie and Peter and their friend Easy Devlin. She then saw the beautiful woman that her brother Clinton seemed to be spending most of his time with lately, Avis Warwick. She smiled at these good friends of Phil and looked forward to getting to know them better. Now, however, she had no eyes for anyone except the tall man who stood beside George Camrose. Phil’s eyes were fixed on her, and he smiled at her warmly as she made her way down the aisle. Beside him, her brother Clinton stood as best man, and when she reached him, with a nod from Camrose, Phil stepped up and, smiling, took her hand, squeezing it gently and whispering, “I’m glad you came.”

Cara returned his smile, then the two turned to face Camrose. Both of them listened as he began, “We are gathered in the sight of God and in the face of this company to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. . . .” Phil’s hand surrounding hers was warm and strong, and Cara felt the presence of God in that place. She knew that this marriage was right, and that God was going to bless them.

“Who gives the bride?” George Camrose said, and then his eyes suddenly widened. Cara was looking at him, and she saw that George was very startled.

“
I do!
”

The voice was loud, and every eye in the church turned to face the back. Cara and Phil both turned involuntarily, and Cara gasped when she saw her father wearing a dress suit with a flower in his lapel, standing at the entrance to the aisle. His eyes were fixed on her, and he held himself stiffly. Then
he began to move, and Cara felt faint. Phil, feeling her sway, reached over and put his arm around her waist and held her steady. “Well, I’ll be dipped!” he muttered. “Look at that. I reckon I’ve got me a mighty good father-in-law.”

Cara watched as her father came down the aisle. He limped slightly, but he held himself upright and his bulky form was much like a ship plowing through heavy waters. He stopped long enough to reach down to Alice, who was sitting at the end of the front pew. He pulled her to her feet, and Cara saw her mother’s face drain of color with shock. But Oliver helped her out of the pew, then advanced until he was standing only inches away from the bride and groom. “I’ve come to give my daughter to this man—and I’m very proud to give her to a man who loves God and clearly loves her with all of his heart.”

A murmur of astonishment went over the church, and suddenly Cara stepped away from Phil and threw her arms around her father. She felt his arms close around her, and then she held on to him tightly, whispering, “Father—Father!”

Oliver Lanier held his daughter and looked over her head into Phil’s eyes. He stuck out one massive hand, and when Phil took it, Oliver smiled and said, “Take good care of her, son.”

“I’ll do that. You can depend on it.”

And then Cara stepped back and looked at her father. She knew that something was changing—that never again could she go to him as she had as a child, or as an invalid. Still, she was tremendously grateful and proud of him as well, for she knew what it had cost him, and she whispered, “Thank you, Father.”

Turning, she took her place again beside Phil, and George Camrose, a twinkle in his eye, said, “If any can show just cause why these two should not be joined together—but no, I think we’ll not have any of that, will we?” He waited until the laughter died down, and then he looked at the couple before him and began leading them in their vows, the familiar words about loving and honoring and obeying, about being
faithful in sickness and in health. Finally George declared, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

And then Cara felt Phil kissing her gently and tenderly, and they turned and walked back down the aisle. As soon as they were out in the foyer, Phil said, “I’m glad for you, Cara, and I admire your father.”

“I’m glad, too. That makes everything perfect.”

In the reception room in the basement of the church, Oliver Lanier approached the couple just before leaving. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an envelope and handed it to Phil. “A wedding present from a very proud father. Stay in England until it’s all spent. But then please bring my little girl back.”

“Thank you, sir,” Phil said. “I’ll see that she is safe.”

Then Cara put her arms around her father and kissed him. “You made such a wonderful day for me.”

“I’ve missed a lot of years, Cara, but I’m trying.”

Cara watched as her parents left, and then she turned to Phil and said, “I’m your wife now, Phil.”

“Yes, you are. Forever and ever.”

He took her hand and the two left the church to begin their new life. The bells of the church began to ring, startling a flock of pigeons. They exploded from the steeple like gray smoke and fluttered their wings over the couple as they were about to step into a waiting carriage.

Cara paused to look up at the birds as they mounted on swift wings into the blue sky.

“I feel like one of those, Phil,” she said. “I feel like I have wings and I could fly.”

“Fly as high as you want, Cara, as long as I fly with you.” Phil reached down, put his arm around her, and kissed her. Then with a swift motion he helped her into the carriage, leaped in beside her, and said, “And now, Mrs. Winslow, it’s time for us to go to England. Driver, take us to England.”

The driver leaned over, his weather-beaten face a study in
puzzlement. “Don’t reckon as how I can get that fur. This here buggy don’t float, ye know!”

“Go as far as you can,” Phil said. He put his arm around Cara and hugged her, and then said, “We’ll go the rest of the way on our own.”

GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals, and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children. He and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.