Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas (31 page)

In that moment, Cassie arrived on the street, panting. “Just in time.”

“Just in time for what?” Belinda asked.

“You’ll see. But don’t go back inside, whatever you do.”

Belinda, now fully engaged, watched as the noise grew nearer. She gasped as she laid eyes on Peter and Sarah Jo, coming down the street with cooking pots and metal spoons in hand. They used the spoons to beat the pots, creating that loud rhythmic banging.

Belinda gasped as she looked at Sarah Jo, who was done up in the most beautiful white dress she’d ever seen. And Peter was dressed like something from a storybook, in a suit and, of all things, an ascot. His hair, what was left of it, anyway, was immaculately combed. And the smile on his face spoke of mischief.

Aunt Hilde began to laugh at once. “I don’t believe it. I simply don’t believe it.”

Belinda watched in awe as Corabelle met Sarah Jo in the middle of the street and pinned on the tiny white cap with a long veil attached. She gasped as the picture was complete. “Oh, Greta, look. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

Cassie drew near and whispered, “I made the dress last week. Talk about a short order! What do you think?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Belinda confessed. “Your work is the best I’ve ever seen.” She gazed at Cassie with new eyes. “And by the way, I understand that congratulations are in order.”

“They are.” Cassie grinned. “Oh, it’s the best news in the world. And I’m the happiest woman ever!” She pointed at Sarah Jo and Peter and chuckled. “Looks like I’m not alone, though. The whole town is filled with happy couples.”

She gave the cousins a little wave and disappeared into the crowd, likely in search of her new groom.

By now, people had come from all corners of the town. They lined Main Street. Every shopkeeper. Every hotel guest. Every worker from the outlying areas. The banging of the pots and pans had drawn them all.

Peter stood in the center of the street, looking quite dapper. He removed his hat and gave a sweeping bow then gestured to his bride-to-be, who gave a silly little curtsy.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter shouted. “Fine friends of Poetry, Texas—we have an announcement to make.”

A couple of the men from the barbershop let out piercing whistles and the crowd grew silent.

Peter’s face was lit in a smile. “For some time now, I have claimed that the life of an old bachelor was the life for me, but that is no longer the case.”

“You’ve been bit, haven’t you, Peter?” one of the older men hollered out.

“Yes, I’ll be the first to admit it,” Peter said with a grin. “I’ve been bit. And I’ve never been happier in my life.” He drew near to Sarah Jo and took her hand. “I am the happiest man in the world, and I want to share it with the people I love. This woman—Sarah Jo Cummings—has done me the honor of agreeing to marry me.”

A loud whoop went up from several of the men, and the women began to cheer, including Belinda and Greta. Aunt Hilde looked on with tears in her eyes.

“Well, it’s about time,” she whispered. “I daresay, it’s about time.”

“Because our love story has been a bit unorthodox, we felt the ceremony should be, too,” Peter said. “So we made up our minds to get married in the middle of Main Street on a weekday, when no one was the wiser. Hope you don’t mind giving up a few minutes away from your businesses to celebrate with us.”

At this point, even more people appeared. It looked like the word had spread, because Mama and Papa rounded the corner with Elisha and Elijah not far behind.

“Before we get hitched, I just want to say one thing.” Sarah Jo looked through the crowd until she clamped eyes on Belinda. “I wouldn’t even be in this town if it weren’t for a certain young woman.”

“Oh dear.” Belinda shook her head and tried to scoot behind Greta and Aunt Hilde, but they nudged her forward.

Every eye turned Belinda’s way, and she felt her cheeks turn warm. Through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of Georg beaming from the opposite side of the street.

“If this darling girl hadn’t listened to the Lord, I wouldn’t be here now.” Sarah Jo nodded. “O’course, she brought me here to marry someone else, but that’s all water under the bridge now. The Lord knew what He was doing. And what she was doing.” Sarah Jo laughed and everyone joined her.

“It’s only fitting that we ask Reverend Billingsley and his wife, Marta, to join us,” Peter called out.

At this point, the reverend and Marta made their way up the street, arm in arm. The reverend carried his Bible and wore a smile brighter than sunshine. Belinda grinned as she watched them approach a very anxious Peter and Sarah Jo, who now turned toward each other and clasped hands.

“I don’t believe it,” Greta whispered. “They’re really going to do it. They’re getting married in the middle of the street on a Monday afternoon!”

Belinda laughed. “Well, of course they are! What else would you expect from Sarah Jo and Peter?”

Marta took her place next to Sarah Jo, fussing with the bride’s veil. Then the reverend began the ceremony. The whole town stood silent as the words were spoken. Well, silent, at least, until a man on a wagon tried to pass through town—but he was quickly stopped at the corner and sent in a different direction.

The reverend had chosen his passage from the Song of Solomon. Ironic, Belinda thought. Thankfully, he chose with great discretion. As the words of love were read, the crowd fell into a holy hush. They might as well have been in church, for the spirit of the Lord hung heavy over the congregation. In fact, Belinda felt as surely as if the camp meeting had begun all over again.

Reverend Billingsley finished his reading and paused.

“Now I have something I’d like to read to my bride,” Peter announced for all to hear. “I know you all fancy me a poet. I’ve fancied myself one, as well.”

Sarah Jo punched him in the arm. “You are a poet, Peter Conrad. And the best I’ve ever heard, to boot.”

“Still, for an occasion such as this, I can only quote the best. And the person whose poems far exceed mine is a woman.” He chuckled. “I have recently determined that only a woman can truly capture the essence of love in words, though I will surely give it my best from this day forth. I want to recite a piece by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. For a woman like Sarah Jo, only the best will do.”

With a voice like honey, he began to quote the words from memory:

“‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight for the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints!—I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.’ ”

When the poem ended, there wasn’t a dry eye on Main Street. Belinda reached for her hankie then dabbed at her eyes. Through the crowd, she once again caught a glimpse of Georg. At this point, her tears came freely. Who would know the difference, anyway? Let them think she was moved by the poem.

She
was
moved by the poem, after all. It had spoken to her heart in a dozen different ways, for she had those same feelings...for Georg. She loved him with a childlike faith. She loved him with a love that seemed to surpass anything else—smiles, tears, even the very breath she took. She loved Georg Kaufman...and, oh, how she hoped he loved her, too!

When the people stopped clapping, Reverend Billingsley made his pronouncement. “And now, fine folks of Poetry, I’m thrilled to announce that Peter and Sarah Jo are now husband and wife. I give you Mr. and Mrs. Peter Conrad.” As the crowd roared with delight, Belinda could barely hear the reverend’s closing words: “What God has joined together, let no man tear asunder. You may kiss your bride, Peter!”

Peter swept Sarah Jo into his arms and planted a kiss on her that made several of the womenfolk blush. Belinda felt sure it made them a wee bit jealous, too. For while Peter was enthusiastic in approach, there could be no denying his love for the woman in his arms. And what woman wouldn’t want to be swept away in such a fashion? To be told in front of her friends and neighbors that she was adored? To be kissed with such fire?

A shiver ran up Belinda’s spine as she thought about all of those things. Oh, how she wanted them, too! How she longed to be told that someone loved her with such a love. The words of that poem touched the deepest places of her heart.

“I spent so much time fooling myself,” she whispered.

“What?” Greta drew near. “What did you say, honey?”

“I spent years fooling myself.” Belinda sighed. “All this time I’ve been saying I didn’t want that. Didn’t want love. Didn’t need to be married. And yet...”

She looked out across the street to Georg, whose gaze never left hers. He watched her with such tenderness that her heart gravitated to her throat. Turning back to Greta, she whispered, “For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Greta whispered. “For the Red Sea to part?”

“Mm-hmm.” She gazed at the ever-growing throng of people in front of her, now unable to see him. Surely Georg was still over there somewhere. And when she found him...she would never let him go.

Georg watched the wedding with his heart in his throat. He’d never seen such an outward display of affection between a man and a woman, and it jarred him. In a good way. He wished for the courage to make a similar proclamation. Instead, he watched in silence. Sure, he paid attention to the ceremony, but beyond that, he kept his focus on the beautiful young woman across the street, the one he longed to sweep into his arms. Would he ever have the courage?

Georg listened as the reverend invited everyone to Stanzas for a wedding lunch. Looked like Peter and Sarah Jo had planned this thing well, for Katie Sue came scurrying down the street with a wedding cake in hand, which she proceeded to deliver to Stanzas with a smile.

Yes, they’d surely planned this for a while but had somehow managed to keep it a secret.

Funny how secrets could be kept. How big news could be kept under lock and key till just the right time. Oh, but when God turned the key in the lock and the appropriate moment came, what a difference it could make!

Georg looked across the crowd once more, seeking out Belinda’s face. She gazed at him with a hint of a smile on her face. And were those...tears in her eyes? He took a step into the street, determined to talk to her. If he didn’t, his heart would burst from his chest. Unfortunately, he ran smack-dab into Katie Sue and the wedding cake. She jolted, almost dropping it. Georg made a thousand quick apologies then helped her regain her footing. “So sorry!” he said.

“You need to be more careful, Georg,” Katie Sue said, shaking her head. “You almost caused a calamity.”

“Indeed, I almost did.” He took his first step across the Jordan, pushing his way through the mob, past Reverend Billingsley and Marta, beyond Mr. and Mrs. Grundy, past Corabelle and James, to the boardwalk in front of Poetic Notions. For some reason, when he finally stepped foot onto the Promised Land, Belinda could not be found. “What in the world?”

He gazed through the packed street and now found her on the opposite side. “I don’t believe it.” She looked at him through the crowd, offering up a shrug. Had she crossed over to meet him? The very idea sent his heart a hundred different directions at once. If she’d crossed over to meet him, that spoke a thousand words. All good words.

“Belinda!” he called out her name and she stepped forward, eyes wide.

“I’m here, Georg!” she called out above the crowd. Her voice rang out, sending a chill down his spine.

“Meet me in the middle of the road!”

The townspeople swallowed her up as folks pressed their way into the crowded restaurant. He lost sight of her. However, determined not to give up, he forged his way through, more determined than ever. As he did, a familiar voice spoke.

“You can do this, Georg. Just speak your heart.” The firm voice stunned him. Georg looked behind him to see his father standing there. The older man placed a hand on Georg’s shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for this day for years, son. Now find a place where the two of you can have some privacy and tell her how you feel.”

“Yes, sir!” Georg worked his way through the crowd, stopping in the center of the street—the very spot where Peter and Sarah Jo had just tied the knot. He waved his arms and hollered, “Belinda!”

For a minute, he couldn’t find her. And with the sound of voices ringing on every side—happy voices raised in joyful exclamation—he wondered if she could hear him at all.

Seconds later, she appeared, with flushed cheeks and hair slightly messy. “G–georg.” She stopped in front of him, offering a girlish smile. “Did you want me to meet you here?”

“I did.” Oh, how his heart raced! He begged it to be silent so he could hear himself think, but it would not! “There is something I need to tell you.”