Epilogue

The Pageant

Kate sat behind the curtain that Joe and Russ had hung in front of the temporary stage in the Faith Briar sanctuary. She glanced at her watch: 6:51. Nine minutes to go.

She held the script in her lap, the children’s speaking parts highlighted, so she could easily follow along. Renee had appointed Kate and Livvy, who sat behind the curtain on the other side of the stage, as prompters for the young actors if they forgot their lines—which they inevitably would.

Renee stepped behind the curtain and bent low to whisper loudly to Kate. “Don’t forget the job I gave you before the final scene. The cradle must be at center stage before the curtains open.”

“With the baby in it,” Kate said with a wink.

Renee harrumphed and looked irritated. “Of course with the baby in it.”

Kate glanced down at the cradle, which Russ had earlier placed next to her chair. He had done an incredibly professional job with the repair, straightening out the twist, yet leaving the cradle’s rustic antique appearance intact. In the bottom was a quilted calico pad, with a life-size baby doll nestled on top. The industrious ladies of Faith Briar, who’d made the costumes for the pageant, had also sewn the baby quilt.

Renee crossed the stage and said a few words to Livvy and then to Connor and Liam, stagehands for the performance, who were standing beside one of three painted plywood backdrops.

In what Kate assumed was supposed to be a stealth move, Renee carefully peered out at the audience through the center split in the curtain, then she turned to Kate. “Standing room only!” she announced with a loud whisper. “And on such an inclement night. Imagine that!”

Renee tilted her head with a sniff. “First the successful craft fair, now this.” She let out a satisfied sigh. “I do have a knack when it comes to putting on these sorts of things.”

Kate smiled and resisted exchanging glances with Livvy.

In all fairness, Kate had to agree. Renee had worked tirelessly to pull the fund-raiser together. Many of the Copper Mill citizenry had worked with her, but it was Renee who’d rallied the troops.

It had been a hugely successful day, even though it had been snowing lightly since dawn. Even the all-day craft fair, which had to be moved from the parking lot into the multipurpose room downstairs, had superseded all attendance expectations. And the box-lunch auction—which Renee insisted was “gourmet” because the hundred-some lunches were prepared by the Bristol chef—was a huge success, bringing in much more money than expected.

Kate didn’t know what the final tally would be, but she guessed that maybe a half-dozen families whose homes had been damaged in the storm would receive needed help.

Kate’s heart warmed every time she thought of it. Joe had decided to forgo the museum he’d longed to build and instead was in the process of deeding the land, along with the cider house, to the Keenans.

Renee crossed the stage once more, then slipped through the side curtain, and Kate heard the click-click-click of her heels as she walked back down the center aisle to the foyer, where the cast was now anxiously waiting for the pageant to begin.

A rattle of sheet music and the scrape of the piano bench told Kate that Sam had taken his place at the piano on the opposite side of the curtain. The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the audience.

Sam played a medley of nineteenth-century folk songs, then he softened the volume as he began to play “On Holy Ground.”

Then, almost as if a whisper on the wind, rose the soft strum of an Autoharp from the back of the church.

Kate pulled back the curtain a few inches to watch as Colleen began to sing.

Her voice was soft, and she started out seemingly confident, then her voice quavered. She stopped and cleared her throat, then she licked her lips and tried to start again. Only a hoarse whisper resulted. Kate breathed a prayer for the frightened child.

Colleen strummed a few more chords on the Autoharp but seemed unable to make her voice work. Several members of the audience were now craning to stare, and even in the dimmed lighting of the sanctuary, Kate could see the sheer terror on Colleen’s face.

Renee came through the foyer doors noisily and stood looking at Colleen with a mix of worry and compassion. But she obviously couldn’t figure out what to do.

Without Colleen, the pageant couldn’t go on. She was the lead actor and carried the theme of the pageant with her music.

Meanwhile, Kate was praying without ceasing for Colleen as she remembered the reasons for the child’s fears, the accident she’d been in with her father. That single event had created a place of fear in her heart still in need of healing.

She’d done so well during rehearsals that Kate had thought she’d overcome her fears enough to play the lead role, but apparently she had been wrong.

Right now, Kate realized, the pageant didn’t matter. It was Colleen who mattered more than anything. Colleen who stood alone in the back of the church, so frightened she couldn’t speak, or sing, or move.

Just then there was a rustle from one of the pews near the front of the church. Russ stood, excusing himself as he made his way to the end of the pew, and then hurried to the back of the church.

Kate blinked back her tears as he put his arm around his daughter, squeezed her shoulders, then gave her a slight smile.

Even from where she was sitting, Kate could see Colleen’s smile return as she gazed up at her father’s face, seeming to draw strength from it.

Colleen took a deep breath, then she strummed a few soft notes. After a moment, she began to sing. The sound was beautiful, pure, lyrical, and filled with a sense of wonder.

When I walked through the doors

I sensed His presence

A hush again fell over the congregation as her voice carried throughout the sanctuary. She looked up at her father as if, again, to draw strength from his presence. Hugging her, he grinned down at her as she began singing the chorus. Then, surprising Kate—and Renee, Kate knew—Russ started to sing with his daughter, his rumbling bass complementing Colleen’s sweet soprano.

Oh, we are standing

in His presence

on holy ground...

Her voice rose with confidence and joy as she began the second verse, and at the words I know there are angels all around, the angel choir joined her, singing at the top of their lungs...

For we are standing

in His presence

on holy, holy ground.

Kate sat back, blinking back her tears at the beauty of these first pageant moments. Then once more, she peeked around the edge of the curtain as the procession began.

The angel choir was still singing as they slowly walked down the center aisle. The choir had grown almost weekly since the tryouts and word got around town. At least two dozen children now came down the aisle two by two, the little girls looking like they’d descended straight from heaven, the boys looking anything but angelic, with their mischievous grins and elbow pokes and untied shoes. They tumbled along in their white gowns with glittery cutout wings and crooked wire halos, covered with tinsel garland.

The angel choir noisily climbed onto the risers on the right side of the stage, in front of the curtain. Grayson Goodwin, dressed as Jedediah with a coonskin hat and walking stick, began slowly leading the procession of pioneers from the back of the church.

Following him were three small covered wagons, a joint effort of construction by the men of the church, led by Joe and Russ.

The little wagons rattled down the aisle, each “pulled” by a child dressed head to toe like an ox walking on its hind legs. The lead wagon’s ox, Kate remembered, was Molly Keenan. Even if she hadn’t remembered, Molly made it clear when she reached the front of the church, turned to the audience, and said, “I’m an octhen, a very important part of thith producthon.”

The audience chuckled as three of the angels hissed a dramatic “Shhhhhh!”

Beside the first wagon walked Colleen in a long prairie dress and poke bonnet; Gordy Goodwin, dressed as a frontiersman and holding a make-believe rifle, walked beside her, playing the role of Adam, her husband. Keara as Sadie Penny walked slightly behind them, dressed much like her sister, except that her poke bonnet, still tied underneath her chin, rested on her shoulders.

The rest of the group trailed along behind, walking slowly beside their wagons. Kate sat back and smiled as the curtains parted, showing a backdrop of plywood mountains and forests, and in the very back, the magnificent Briar Mountain, all designed by Russ and Joe.

Renee followed at the end of the procession, and as the children pulled their wagons up a wooden ramp onto the stage, she settled into a front-row aisle seat, Kisses in a designer tote at her side. She had earlier put a Reserved for Pageant Director sign on the seat.

Paul had been asked to be the narrator, and now, standing in front of the sanctuary near the piano, he read the first three entries from Abigail Tucker’s journal.

As he spoke, the children launched into their nonspeaking parts, the boys gathering wood and then making a campfire out of red and yellow cellophane, the girls gathering iron pots from the wagon and pretending to fix supper over the fire. Grayson swaggered around a bit, gesturing with his Davy Crockett hat as he gave the others orders.

The angel choir giggled when Molly tripped and almost fell into the make-believe campfire.

Paul’s narration stopped.

It was time for Grayson’s first big speech. He stood in front of the cellophane campfire. Put his shoulders back. Stared openmouthed at the audience. Blinked. Turned toward the pioneers sitting by the fire, who were waiting expectantly. Stared at his feet. Fiddled with his coonskin hat. Looked at the audience again.

He’d forgotten his lines.

Kate whispered the first few words: “God has brought us safely to this place...”

Grayson turned to look at Kate and frowned. “What?”

She whispered the words again.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” Grayson said, grinning. Then he turned and said in a very loud, stilted voice to the audience, “God. Has. Brought. Us. Safely. To. This. Place. Where. We. Will. Rest. For. The. Night.” Then he took a deep breath and seemed to relax. His words were smoother when he continued. “We are glad for his guidance and protection and blessings this day. We will pray for his guidance tomorrow as we make our way to the place where we will make our home.”

“Look! It’s beginning to snow,” said Keara, who was playing Sadie Penny. She held out her hands, palms up, and stared heavenward. Someone offstage threw some handfuls of white confetti toward the little group.

“What shall we do?” they all asked.

The angel choir got caught up in the worry of the scene and forgot their next song. Sam played their intro twice, then finally, they remembered and began to sing God will take care of you...

KATE SAT BACK as the pageant went on, delighted with the children and how seriously they took their parts. The audience loved it, clapped at the right moments, sighed at others, laughed, and even cried.

Paul’s narration was a perfect way to fill the audience in on the true historical record, even as the children acted out the scenes.

Kate only had to prompt the children a few times on her side of the stage; Livvy did the same on her side. More often, when someone forgot his or her lines, Molly, who had apparently memorized much of the script during the rehearsals, prompted the young actors.

No one seemed to be concerned about a talking ox, even one with a lisp.

It seemed like only minutes had passed when Renee stood and faced the audience forty-five minutes later, announcing that there would be a brief intermission, and then the curtains closed.

As people milled about in the aisles and the foyer, Paul strode up to the stage to sit with Kate. He grinned as he scooted a chair close to her.

“These kids have the audience in the palms of their hands. I wish you could have heard the comments.” He looked proud as he took her hand and squeezed it. “What a blessing this is to everyone, whether they’re newcomers or families who’ve been here for generations. And to have the children present our history as a pageant...” He paused as if searching for the right words, then said, “I know not much has been said of it, and I know you would never take the credit, but we all have you to thank, Katie. It was your idea.”

She smiled but shook her head. “Not me at all. It was really your idea. This was just one of those times in life when events catch your attention, people surprise you with who they are inside, stories surface that were there all the time...but hidden from view.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is it was as if the story was here all along, and God wanted me to find it for reasons other than just to satisfy my curiosity, or get to the bottom of some intriguing mystery, or even to help others solve some puzzling question in their lives.” She paused, looking out at the audience members, who were now drifting back toward their seats. Then she turned once more to Paul.

“Most of the mysteries I get caught up in ignite something in my brain.”

Paul raised a brow. “And this one?”

“It ignited something in my heart.”

FIVE MINUTES BEFORE THE CURTAINS were to open, Kate and Paul moved the cradle to the center of the stage, then he returned to his place beside the piano to continue with the narration.

Renee, looking coy, came around the corner with Russ and Annabel, who was holding baby Jedediah. Joe trailed along behind them, grinning ear to ear. It seemed that he wanted to be as close to the action in this final scene as possible. He’d written it; his ancestors had lived it.

The children had just taken their places onstage and looked over in surprise as Annabel bent over the cradle and placed the infant inside. Tiny fists waved in the air in protest.

Renee had been right to not let the young actors or the angel choir know a real baby would play the role of the first child born to the group of settlers. The surprised expression of wonder on each face was priceless.

When Annabel turned, the light caught the brooch at her throat, causing it to cast sparkles of light across the stage. She smiled into her husband’s eyes as she returned to her place beside him and took his hand.

God had rebuilt this family, Kate thought, remembering the verse from Isaiah. He had redeemed them with his love and grace and forgiveness, more precious than sparkling stones. Annabel turned to Kate and touched the brooch at her neck, almost as if she knew Kate’s thoughts.

Renee gave the signal for the curtains to open. The audience gasped in awe when they realized the cradle held a real baby—a fussing, fist-waving infant.

The children gathered closer, agape, as Colleen picked up her little brother and cuddled him close. The fussing stopped. She looked across the stage to where her mother and father were standing by Kate.

With a soft smile, she rocked the baby, her cheek tenderly resting on the top of his fuzzy head.

“Thath my little brother,” Molly whispered loudly from somewhere backstage. “I get to hold him thomtimeth too.”

Kate realized before anyone else that what Joe had written in the script wouldn’t work. The final song, the theme of the pageant, “On Holy Ground,” needed an Autoharp accompaniment.

But Colleen was holding the baby.

Before she had time to think of a solution, Joe hurried onto the stage, knelt beside the cradle, picked up the Autoharp, and strummed a few chords.

Gently rocking the baby in her arms, Colleen began to sing softly but confidently. Her gaze moved to her mother’s, then her father’s.

Kate saw a flicker of something pass between them. She couldn’t know for sure, but it seemed to hold a whole world of emotion—just as the jeweled brooch symbolized—in that instant. A world of forgiveness, grace, and especially, of new beginnings.

In His presence I know there is joy beyond all measure, she sang. When she reached the chorus, the angel choir and the whole congregation stood and sang with her.

We are standing on holy ground

For I know that there are angels all around...

Kate raised her eyes to the windows at the side of the sanctuary. Snow was still falling, barely visible in the ambient glow of lights from inside the church.

She smiled, remembering the snowstorm that had kept those early travelers from reaching what they thought was their promised land.

Yet all along, their promised land was here, in this very spot.

Paul had come up on the stage to stand beside her; she reached for his hand, and they sang the final line of the chorus together:

For we are standing in His presence on holy ground.