Tracie Peterson (14 page)

Chapter 20

W
hile Maria was summoned to get Bill and Mack and anyone else who wanted to witness the event, David prepared for the wedding service. Garrett conferred with Jason in hushed whispers, and Maggie was suddenly alone.

She stood at the window, watching the rain. Rain was a bad omen on a wedding day. Maggie tried to remember the old saying. Something about the number of raindrops that fell would be the number of tears the bride would cry.

But, Maggie reminded herself, she didn’t believe in bad luck. She believed in God’s guidance. The rain was just rain.

“Scared?” Garrett’s question was barely audible as he came up behind Maggie.

“A little—I guess,” Maggie said. She looked up, slowly meeting Garrett’s eyes—eyes so blue and powerful she felt herself grow weak.

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Garrett asked seriously.

Maggie’s face shot up and her eyes flashed. “Never!”

“Then there’s nothing to fear. We look to God for our future. I love you, Magdelena Intissar. I love you with all that I am.” A tear slid down Maggie’s cheek.

“I love you, Garrett Lucas. I can only pray I will be the wife you need.” Maggie murmured. Garrett took her in his arms and held her tightly.

“Whoa, now. We haven’t gotten to that part yet,” David Monroe called from beside the fireplace. Everyone laughed and the tension broke.

Maggie joined hands with Garrett and stood at the foot of her father’s bed. She glanced around the room at the ranch workers who’d become her friends. She only wished her mother and grandmother could have lived to see her wedding.

Maggie looked down at her attire and smiled, thinking how appalled her friend Lillie would have been at the blue calico dress. But Maggie knew Lillie would have liked Garrett.

Once or twice, Maggie gazed over her shoulder to find her father looking on, contentment beaming from his face. This moment was for him.

A few minutes later, David told Garrett he could kiss his bride. Garrett pulled Maggie close. His arms wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Their eyes met, and the promise of new life flashed before them. Then Garrett kissed Maggie deeply while the wedding guests cheered.

Jason held his hands up to Maggie and Garrett. “I’ve waited a long time for this day. I’m proud to call you son,” Jason said, his eyes planted firmly on Garrett. “I’m trusting you to care for my daughter and to keep your family in line with the plans the good Lord has for you. This ranch and all I have is yours. Yours to share with Maggie.” Garrett nodded and squeezed his father-in-law’s hand.

“And my Maggie,” Jason sighed. “How beautiful you are today. I want you to be happy. I want you to enjoy what I’ve made here, but most of all I want
you to keep your heart close to God. I’m so glad I was here when you accept
ed Jesus as your Savior. I can go on now—knowing you’re in God’s care and Garrett’s.”

“Surprise!” Maria exclaimed as she reentered the room. Maggie turned to see that Maria had brought refreshments.

“How wonderful!” Maggie cried, rushing to Maria. “Our own reception.”

Garrett joined his wife with a smile. “She’s more interested in food than
her new husband.” Maggie blushed, suddenly aware she’d rushed from Garrett and her father to a tray of pastries.

Garrett laughed all the more at the sight of Maggie’s embarrassment. “Well, I just thought it was kind of Maria,” Maggie added, giving up at the roar of laughter from everyone.

The ranch hands didn’t need second invitations to enjoy the treats. Maria poured steaming cups of Mexican coffee while the hands helped themselves to the tray of goodies.

David joined in the revelry. He had downed his third pastry by the time Maria offered him a cup of coffee. “These are some good eats, Maria. I wish Jenny had the recipe.”

“I could write it down for her,” Maria offered.

David nodded in appreciation.
“You do that, Maria. I’d be much obliged.”

Maggie had glanced over at her father once or twice. He was beaming. She was about to ask him if he wanted something to eat when Garrett asked her something.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening,” Maggie said apologetically.

“I was wondering if you thought this might be too much for your father. Maybe we should herd everybody out of here,” Garrett whispered.

Maggie glanced around Garrett to where her father rested. Suddenly, her heart stopped. Color drained from her face, and she pushed past Garrett and ran to her father’s bedside.

Jason still bore the smile Maggie had seen earlier, but his lifeless eyes betrayed the secret that he’d passed from one world to the next. Maggie placed his hand against her cheek, patting it gently.

“Father? Father, wake up,” she cried, but in her heart she knew her father was dead.

Garrett and David were the only ones who noticed what was taking place. Garrett stood behind Maggie. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. David moved to the opposite side of the bed and felt for a pulse. There was none.

“He’s gone,” David murmured softly.

It was only when David closed Jason’s eyes that Maggie felt the impact of his words. Maria noticed what David was doing and quickly crossed herself and whispered a prayer. This caught the attention of the three ranch hands.

“He’s past the pain now,” Bill offered softly. “Mighty sorry to lose him, though. Mighty sorry.” Maggie saw tears in Bill’s eyes and heard his voice quiver. Bill had cared deeply for her father. Mack and Rob were silent, though Maggie noticed Mack turn to wipe his eyes with his sleeve.

Maggie moved away from Garrett and the bed, watching David tend to her father’s body. Everything was moving in slow motion. Bill said something to Garrett, but Maggie couldn’t make out the words. She couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her heart. The room began to swim, and desperately, Maggie reached out to steady herself. She saw Garrett look at her, then she collapsed at the foot of her father’s bed.

Garrett rushed to lift Maggie in his arms. “Maria, get me a cold cloth.”

“Sí, Señor,” Maria said as she hastened from the bedroom.

“David, I’ve got to get her out of here,” Garrett called over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. Take care of your wife,” David answered.
My wife
, Garrett thought. After months of separation, they were finally married.

Garrett was moving toward the west wing of the house when he came across Maria.

“Come with me, Maria. We’ll put her in my room.”

Maria nodded and brought the basin of water and washcloth she’d gone for. She managed to balance the basin while opening the door for Garrett. He moved across the study that adjoined his bedroom, grateful that he’d left the bedroom door open. Maria followed, watching the tender way Garrett placed Maggie on the bed.

“Give me the cloth,” Garrett requested. He placed the cloth across Maggie’s forehead and began to pat her hand.

“Maggie,
mi
queri
da,
wake up.”

Maria moved forward to loosen the buttons at the neck of Maggie’s gown. Maggie stirred slightly, and Garrett gently wiped her face with the damp cloth, hoping the coolness would bring her back to consciousness.

“Father,” Maggie moaned softly. With a jerk, her eyes flew open. “No-o-o!” she cried. She struggled to sit up, but Garrett’s firm hands held her back.

“Just rest a minute,” insisted Garrett.

“Oh, Garrett,” Maggie sobbed into her hands. Her body shook uncontrollably, and Garrett held her long after her tears had soaked the front of his shirt. “He can’t be dead, Garrett! He can’t be.”

Maggie pulled back and turned her red, swollen eyes toward Maria. “Maria, please tell me he isn’t dead.”

But Maria found it hard to speak. She lowered her eyes, her own tears falling freely, and quickly left the room.

Maggie looked back to Garrett whose eyes were also wet with tears. “We’ll all miss him,” Garrett whispered.

It was then Maggie became aware of Garrett’s pain. She steadied herself, studying the weary face of the man who was now her husband. The strain was as great on him as it was on her.

“Oh, Garrett, I’m so sorry. I know how you loved him,” Maggie said, her heart filled with aching for the sadness she saw in Garrett’s eyes. When tears began to roll down Garrett’s cheeks, Maggie held him tightly. Together they shared their sorrow. It was not the wedding day either one would have planned, but their shared pain brought deeper intimacy to their marriage.

Two days later, Maggie joined Garrett beside the grave of her father. In torrential rain, Bill and Mack had taken turns digging the final resting place of their boss and friend. Maria had prepared Jason’s body with David Monroe’s help.

Garrett had finalized arrangements for the last of the winter supplies to be brought in. He’d also handed the rustlers who had murdered Miguel over to the law.

Maggie had been horrified to learn that the rustlers’ leader was Cactus Jack, her father’s own ranch hand. Knowing her father was growing sicker and Garrett was nowhere around, Cactus Jack had figured they’d have a good chance of stealing lots of cattle.

The plan might have worked, but Carmalita had overheard pieces of a conversation between Cactus Jack and Miguel. Cactus Jack had wanted Miguel to join his operation, and when he’d refused, Cactus Jack had threatened his life.

With God’s help, Garrett had been able to locate Carmalita before she’d found Cactus Jack and his men. Garrett had seen her safely to the mission and then turned his sights on collecting both his cattle and the rustlers responsible for their disappearance.

“It’s time, Maggie,” she heard Garrett saying. Maggie nodded somberly. She was grateful so many people were taking care of her. Everyone had pitched in. Maggie hadn’t needed to lift a finger to help with the funeral or the ranch.

As she stood in the rain, watching little rivers run down the side of the dirt mound that would soon cover her father’s casket, Maggie shivered. Garrett quickly placed his coat around Maggie’s shoulders. Maggie turned her eyes briefly to meet those of her husband.

Suddenly, she felt out of place. Garrett had his duties. Bill, Mack, and Maria all had their jobs. But Maggie’s days of caring for her father were over, and she had nothing to do. Now that Carmalita was staying at the mission, Maggie didn’t even have her to talk to.

Maggie glanced at the western ridge. She’d given up hope of Carmalita coming to the funeral. In this wet weather, the twelve mile ride to the ranch would be miserable for the heartiest ranch hand. Silently, Maggie chided herself for expecting Carmalita to put aside her grief over Miguel to attend the funeral.

Just as Maggie tried to concentrate on David’s words, Carmalita came
into view. Motionless, she looked down from the crest of a ridge, then nudged
her horse to the valley and across to the ranch. She sat proudly, almost regally, in the saddle. David’s words fell silent as all eyes turned to watch the stately procession. When Carmalita approached the graveside, Maggie left Garrett’s side and went to her.

Pain and sorrow clouded Carmalita’s face. “This,” Carmalita said as she revealed a small pine wreath, “is for Señor.”

Maggie reached up and took the gift. Dark green branches were intricately woven with red braided calico. Maggie appreciated the honor being paid to her father.

“Gracias, Carmalita,” Maggie whispered, knowing further conversation would be meaningless. Maggie walked to the grave and lovingly placed the wreath upon her father’s casket. Then she glanced back toward Carmalita. Carmalita nodded and started her horse back toward the mission.

“I’ll miss her,” Maggie whispered.

“We all will,” Garrett said as he put his arm around his wife.

Maggie tried to focus on the words David had chosen to comfort those gathered for her father’s funeral. “ ‘I am the resurrection, and the life: he
that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoev
er liveth and believeth in me shall never die,’ ” David quoted with love and assurance.

Maggie knew the words were true. Her father’s death wasn’t disturbing her as much as the feeling of being displaced. When David finished speaking, Maggie excused herself and moved to the house. Maria followed closely behind.

“Would you like some coffee or tea, Señora?” she asked in her thick accent.

“Thank you, Maria. I think I would like some coffee. I didn’t sleep well last night,” Maggie replied gratefully.

“Where will you take it?” questioned Maria as she shook the rain from her
coat.

“Bring it to my room,” Maggie began and then thought better of returning to her old bedroom. “No, please bring it to my father’s room. I’d like some time alone.” Maria nodded and left for the kitchen.

Maggie shook the rain from her coat and hung it to dry. She went to a small chest of drawers in the pantry and pulled out a fresh apron. During her father’s illness, she had needed an apron’s large, roomy pockets to carry a variety of things, but as Maggie tied the strings into a bow, she questioned her action.

I don’t know why I’m putting on an apron,
Maggie thought.
There’s no one to nurse and nothing to do. I’m not needed.
Maggie walked to her father’s room and sat in the rocking chair.

Maria had thoughtfully started a crackling fire that was warming the cool, damp air. Sitting opposite her portrait, Maggie studied the youthful image of herself. She remembered with sadness the hours she’d spent sitting for the portrait so her father would let her stay in Topeka.

Maria arrived with the coffee, but knowing Maggie wanted solitude, she did nothing more than pour a cup and leave.

Maggie sipped the dark liquid, enjoying the warmth that spread through her body. So many relationships had come to an end, but what of the gains? She had a new husband, but she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with him.

Dear God, please help me to know my place and to find contentment in it. I feel so confused right now,
Maggie prayed.
I want to belong, but with so many people I loved now gone, I don’t know where to start. Please guide me, Lord. Teach me how to be a good wife.