When Tomorrow Comes (9 page)
It was a cold, crisp evening when they bid one another good night on the doorstep. Henry had not brought the car, so the three walked through the darkness together, linking arms in order to save space on the narrow sidewalk.
“Look at those stars tonight,” Henry observed. “I’ve never seen them so bright.”
“Maybe you see them with different eyesight these days,” teased Laray. “They look just the same to me.”
“I miss the northern lights. Do you ever see them this far south?” asked Christine.
“I’ve not,” answered Henry.
“I’ve never seen them—ever,” put in Laray.
“Never?” Christine was incredulous.
“Never.”
“Oh, you’ve no idea. They are so . . . so spectacular. So beautiful. And they dance and flit across the sky—all colors. You can hear them swish. You feel like you could just reach out and . . . and grab a handful of the magic, they are so close.”
“You sound like you’re in love too,” Henry joked.
They all laughed, then Laray said seriously, “I’d like to see them.”
“Oh, you should.”
“Now, don’t get off on that, Sis,” Henry chided softly. “When she gets started on the North and its many splendors, she gets all dreamy,” he warned Laray.
“I can’t help it,” admitted Christine. “I love it.”
They reached the corner where they would part ways. Laray seemed a bit reluctant to take his leave. “See you. Tomorrow?” he said.
Henry did not answer.
“Are you brave enough to try Jessie’s again?”
This time it was obvious that Laray was speaking to Christine.
“I plan to get Henry’s lunch at home tomorrow,” she answered. “I know where to shop for groceries now,” she explained.
“Lucky Henry,” said Laray, kicking at a hunk of snow by the roadside.
With another good-night they moved off. It was late, and morning duties started early. Tomorrow would be a new day.
As she had planned, Christine had Henry’s lunch ready at twelve o’clock sharp. He phoned five minutes later to say he was sorry, but he would be late. He’d had a call from a rancher and had to go check it out.
“Will it keep?” he asked her of the meal.
She was disappointed. She had worked the entire morning to prepare some of Henry’s favorite things. “Well, I can warm it up again tomorrow. But it won’t be as good as it would be today.”
“Tell you what—I’ll send Laray over. He’d love a home-cooked meal.”
“Henry, you can’t do that. How will it look to the . . . the townspeople?”
“Oh,” said Henry. Just “Oh.”
“Well, then, why don’t you pack it up and bring it on down to the office?”
“Pack it up? It wouldn’t stay hot two minutes.”
“Then Laray can pick up Amber, and you can have them both over. That’d look all right, wouldn’t it?”
“It’s okay. We can eat it tomorrow.”
“No. No . . . you’ve worked hard.” Henry seemed to be thinking. “Tell you what. I’ll stop at home on my way out of town. I’ll bring Laray with me.”
There was nothing to be done but to set another plate. Christine hoped she had prepared enough. She hadn’t counted on feeding two hungry men.
But Henry hardly stopped at home long enough to eat. He hurriedly downed some of her fried potatoes and a small piece of meatloaf, then shoved another slice between two biscuits, wrapped it in a napkin, and refilled his coffee cup. “I’ve got to run.” And he was gone.
“I’m sorry,” began Christine as the door closed behind Henry. “I didn’t know . . .”
“Guess his loss is my gain,” Laray said comfortably. “We get used to eating on the run like that. Don’t worry about Henry. More than he usually gets. And lots better tasting too.”
Christine poured more coffee and passed the meatloaf again. “I hope you have time to at least chew it,” she quipped.
Laray grinned as he took a bite.
“You’re a very good cook,” he said a while later as he reached for his Stetson. “Let’s see. Who can I set up to call Henry tomorrow?”
Christine managed to laugh. “Henry is off tomorrow. He and Amber are driving into Lethbridge for some shopping. I’m going to look after Danny for them.”
“ ’Fraid I’m on duty. All day. Wish I could help you out with Danny.”
“He’s no problem.”
“Wish I could help you out just the same.” He gave Christine another grin, a little lopsided this time. She felt her cheeks growing warm.
“Thanks for the lunch. Much better than Jessie’s. Maybe you should start up a restaurant in the town. Give her a little competition.”
Christine laughed. “Not me. No, sir. Even lots of spice couldn’t hide my failures.”
“It was delicious.”
“Guess I lucked out.”
“That’s not what I’m thinkin’. I’m the one who lucked out.”
Laray placed his Stetson on his dark hair, gave Christine another grin, and left.
After he had gone, she stood pondering the exchange. Just what had he meant? Was he flirting with her? Could he possibly think it had been her idea that he come for lunch? She was going to have a serious talk with her brother.
Christine was surprised at how busy the next week was. Besides trying to cook and do a bit of light housework for Henry, she spent many hours looking after Danny while Amber arranged last-minute details, and further hours ticking off assignments from her own to-do list. Christmas Eve, the date of the wedding, would fall on a Friday night. On Thursday Elizabeth and Wynn arrived, along with Jonathan and Mary. This meant additional people for meals and visits, even though arrangements had been made for the two couples to stay with Amber’s folks.
Though Henry appeared to stay remarkably calm, Amber was beginning to get the jitters. Danny was doing jigs across the kitchen floor where others were making preparations for the reception.
“Danny, you must get out from underfoot,” scolded Amber. “I’m afraid someone will run into you with something hot.”
“I’m gonna get a dad—pretty quick,” he sang out, moving to a corner but not leaving the kitchen.
The weather had cooperated better than any of them had dared to hope. Though the winter temperatures meant one did not stay outside for more than a few minutes at a time, no more heavy storms with blowing snow had swept again across the open prairie.
Thank you, Lord,
Christine whispered as she went about her work.
She’d had her little talk with Henry and made herself quite clear. She did not wish to be thrust into repeated contact with Laray. True, he seemed like a fine young man, but she was far from ready for any kind of new relationship. Later she wondered if Henry had spoken with Laray. The young Mountie was conspicuously absent from then on. Christine almost regretted her hasty decision. She did hope she’d done nothing to hurt him. What if he thought her hesitancy was related to the injury of his arm? He gave little hints that he was conscious of the fact he no longer was the man he had been.
But Christine had little time to worry about it. Every waking moment was given to getting ready for the wedding. She’d had no idea that weddings, even rather simple ones, took so much time and preparation.
Once Elizabeth was on the scene, she, with Mary in tow, hurried about doing this and getting involved in that. Christine realized her mother was truly trying to help and to feel a part of it all, but in reality it made things more difficult. The carefully prepared lists of duties were continually being disrupted and changed. No one had the courage or insensitivity to ask the two enthusiastic women to please refrain from being so helpful.
Friday morning dawned bright and cold. So cold that Christine had to shelter her face as she quickly walked the short distance to Amber’s house. She didn’t remember even the North being so frigid. But then, she had been more prepared for the cold in the North. Fur-trimmed parkas were quite different from filmy squares of thin cotton over one’s head.
Somehow they made it through the day with most things falling into place quite nicely. Henry, who was to pick up the flowers from Lethbridge, did wonder if they would freeze before he got them home. Laray, who had accompanied him, ended up cradling Amber’s bouquet in his arms all the way back. The car heater was barely able to keep the interior of the motor vehicle above freezing.
The wedding was set for five o’clock—the earliest hour that light from the candles would be effective. The wedding guests would be ushered to the church hall immediately after for the reception that was to follow. While they were being settled, photographs would be taken of the bridal party before the altar. Then, all going well, the wedding supper would proceed.
It would undoubtedly be late when they finished the short program and the opening of gifts. Henry had decided not to risk taking to the roads on their honeymoon at such a late hour. Instead, he made arrangements with a local rancher to borrow a small cabin tucked away in the hills just west of town.
Laray knew of the location. It was his duty to lay a fire so the place would be nice and warm by the time Henry and his new bride arrived. Christine had been told of the plan, though she had not seen the cabin. It sounded wonderfully romantic to her. A cozy cabin in the woods with an open fireplace and light by candles. Henry had even arranged to have his bearskin rug spread out before the fire.
Christine’s thoughts once again went to Boyd. She had loved him. The thought of her wrong choice still made her heart ache, even though she no longer felt drawn to the man. He had so much anger and arrogance buried deep within his soul. She did pray that he would one day soon give himself to God.
“Do you, Amber, take Henry . . .”
The familiar words of the service registered in Christine’s mind and heart. She stood with Amber, who looked lovely in her wedding suit, holding her flower bouquet. Christine glanced beyond to Henry, handsome and stalwart in his officer’s uniform. She blinked back tears, surprised at her own emotions, as she realized he now belonged to the woman beside him. She heard Amber’s trembling yet firm response, “I do.”
Then came Danny’s loud whisper, “Is he my dad now?”
Laray’s “shh” was drowned out by the ripple of laughter across the congregation. “Soon,” Christine heard Laray whisper. Danny wiggled one foot, shod in a brand-new pair of black loafers, and plucked at the ribbon holding the rings on the pillow. Christine feared he’d somehow manage to pull them off. She sent a wordless message to Laray, who reached down and took Danny’s restless fingers in his own. Christine sent another message of appreciation.
When the couple exchanged rings, Christine was relieved that the two small gold circlets had safely been transferred from Danny’s small cushion and onto the appropriate fingers.
The ceremony continued. “. . . I now pronounce you man and wife,” she eventually heard the minister say.
“Now?” asked Danny, and Laray nodded.
Danny’s ring pillow was tossed into the air along with a triumphant whoop, then he flung his arms around Henry’s legs. There were tears in more than just Henry’s eyes as he lifted the little boy up. The groom’s kiss of his new bride turned out to be a three-way event. Christine could hardly see through her own tears. She was very glad she had remembered to tuck a hankie in her bouquet. When she managed to recover, she discovered that somehow in all of the emotion of the moment, she was standing with her hand firmly held by Laray. Had she reached for him? Had he seen her tears and offered support? She had no idea how it had happened. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. How was she to escape without making a scene? She need not have worried. Almost immediately she felt Laray’s fingers gently release hers.
Danny, Henry, and Amber finally finished their hugs and returned to the decorum fitting a wedding ceremony. But Danny’s eyes sparkled as Henry put him on his feet and he turned to Laray. Before Laray’s finger could even go to his lips in warning, Danny announced proudly, “He’s really my dad now.”
Laray nodded while the minister said, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Sergeant and Mrs. Henry Delaney—and their son, Danny.”
Warm and lengthy applause followed the wedding party out the door.
The long day was winding down. Christine, now changed from her new wedding suit to a simple skirt and sweater, heels exchanged for a pair of knitted slippers, pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear and rolled another length of crepe-paper streamer.
“Tired?” Laray was able to offer his sympathy in the one word.
“Exhausted,” she replied, but she did manage the hint of a smile.
“We’re almost done.”
She nodded.
“Why don’t you sit and I’ll finish?”
“I’m fine.”
“Thought maybe we could grab a cup of coffee when we’re done. Relax a bit.”
“Where? Even Jessie won’t be open on Christmas Eve.”
Laray nodded. “Maybe we’ll have to make our own.”
“Where?” Christine couldn’t cover her surprise at the suggestion.
Laray seemed to think it over, but when he answered her, Christine wondered if he hadn’t thought it through already.
“You’re going from here to take care of Danny?”
“Right. Mom and Dad took him home to bed, but I said I’d take over.”
“Maybe we can use Amber’s kitchen.”
Before Christine could voice an objection, he continued in a teasing manner, “Not much I can do, but I sure make a mean cup of coffee.”
Christine couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay. A cup of coffee.
Maybe Mom and Dad will be ready for one too.”
If that wasn’t really what Laray had in mind, he did not say so.
Shortly Christine was placing the last of the decorations in their boxes. “Finally. Thanks so much for your help. I’d have been here till midnight if you hadn’t.”
“I hate to tell you this—but it’s almost midnight now.”
Christine glanced at her watch. “It is. No wonder I’m so tired. Now we have to load this stuff.”
“Why don’t we just stack it here? I’ll pick it all up in the morning.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Rogers is on early shift tomorrow. I take over in the afternoon.”
Christine nodded, thankful to call it a day. She pulled off her slippers and slipped into her boots. “If you want to stop by and pick me up, I’ll help,” she suggested.