Chapter 41
The Big Day

Most of the town showed up for the wedding.

Just the fact that Pa’d written for a mail-order bride was curious enough, so lots of folks were interested. And I don’t suppose it’s all that usual for a man to get married with five of his own children sitting in the front row watching!

But most of all, Pa was a highly respected man around Miracle Springs. It wasn’t just that he had friends. It was more than that. I suppose Pa represented what a lot of folks wished for themselves. Here was a man who’d come to town running from the law, using an alias, with nothing to his name. Now Miracle Springs was celebrating its first wedding with him! At least with Sheriff Rafferty he’d been cleared. He had a family, a good claim, and a chance to settle down.

Maybe they were proud of Pa. Maybe some envied him a little. But whatever their reasons, almost everyone piled into that little church that Sunday afternoon. They’d brought in extra chairs from the Gold Nugget, but some of the men still had to stand up in back.

Even with all the people, there was one less than there should have been. My mind kept turning over the question, just like Pa had said as he glanced around at the cabin and up toward the barn and mine one last time: “Where in tarnation’s Nick?” And now we were sitting silently in the church, thinking the same thing.

At last Pa and Rev. Rutledge stood up in front. Pa looked so handsome in his black suit. The music started to play—it was Miss Stansberry at the piano in the back of the church.

I turned around to look.

There stood Katie in the gorgeous dress. Slowly, an inch at a time, she began to walk up the aisle between the chairs.

Softly the music played, the only other sound the faint rustle of Katie’s dress as it moved along the floor.

My eyes scanned so many faces in that second. Half the town’s saloon girls were here, dabbing their eyes with pink and white handkerchiefs, as if “ol’ Drum gettin’ hitched” spelled the end of all the wild nightlife of Miracle Springs.

Katie was about a third of the way down the aisle now. I suppose she looked pretty. People say that brides always do. I didn’t really notice her face.

I turned back to the front. Rev. Rutledge stood tall, with a nice minister-looking smile on his face. Pa beside him was just staring, not smiling at all.

Miss Stansberry started through the processional song again.

You could hear the sounds now of people starting to turn around and watch as Katie approached Pa. She was almost beside me now, still walking slowly. More handkerchiefs came out of hiding. Right behind me I saw that Mrs. Parrish was holding one too. I caught her eye and she tried to smile, but I saw a look of sadness in her face.

All heads turned with Katie, back toward the front of the church, where she had just about reached Pa’s outstretched hand. But amid the noise of turning and looking and the piano’s tones there now came another sound—faint at first, then steadily louder.

It was a horse galloping up. Louder it came, until it was right next to the church building.

But instead of gradually fading away in the other direction, the skidding hoofbeats and whinnying of the horse caught us all by surprise. Glances began to scatter about the church at the sound of a rider dismounting and the loud booted clomping of footsteps coming up the church stairs two at a time.

The music stopped. Katie turned around.

Suddenly the door flew open and crashed against the back wall.

There in the open doorway stood Uncle Nick!

His face wore three days’ growth of whiskers. His clothes were filthy, he still had on his hat, and the dust from his hasty approach seemed to billow into the room on his heels.

He stood there a split second, taking in the scene. Then he ran forward halfway up the aisle, and shouted: “Drum, you blamed fool . . . you’re marryin’ the wrong woman!”

Instantly the church was in an uproar.

Katie’s mouth was hanging open. Rev. Rutledge stood stock-still in consternation, not knowing what to do. Pa stared at Uncle Nick for just a second, his face growing red with fury.

Then he strode forward toward him as fast as his bad leg would let him hobble. He looked as if he was fixing to knock Uncle Nick’s block off!

“Just a dadburn minute!” cried Uncle Nick. “Hear me out, Drum. After what I got to say, well, then you can do what you like! Don’t you know by now, you ol’ goat . . .” and as he said it, he ran the rest of the way up the aisle and stopped just beside where Mrs. Parrish was sitting, “ . . . this here’s the woman you oughta be marryin’!” He grabbed her hand and held it in Pa’s direction before the shocked Mrs. Parrish could think to withdraw it.

“She’s the woman who loves you, you idiot! You’re so blind you can’t see the nose on the front of your face!”

Uncle Nick dropped Mrs. Parrish’s hand, went the rest of the way down the aisle, took Katie’s hand, and added—as if to end the discussion—“Don’t you know Katie’s the woman I got my eye on?”

Now the commotion really erupted!

Everyone was half out of their chairs and balking and stirring about. Pa was still standing there where Uncle Nick had left him, speechless. I glanced behind me quickly. Mrs. Parrish was staring down into her lap and quietly weeping. She was still holding her handkerchief and not even bothering to use it.

Realizing what a stir he’d caused, and maybe embarrassed at his outburst, Uncle Nick by this time had run back outside. Katie went after him. Rev. Rutledge was scurrying about trying to restore some semblance of order, but he wasn’t succeeding too well.

I think everyone knew the wedding was over—for right now, at least. Some folks walked outside, others still sat looking around bewildered. Some of the ladies were uttering comments along the lines of, “Well, I never—” and “Gracious sakes, in all my days . . .”

“Wait! Wait, people—please!” Rev. Rutledge shouted, trying to be heard above the chaos and confusion. “Take your seats until we get this all sorted out! . . . Mr. Hollister!”

But Pa was moving slowly away from Rev. Rutledge now, limping toward where I was sitting. He didn’t hear the minister calling his name. I don’t think he was aware of the church quieting, and the turning of every eye upon him to see what he was going to do. He was coming toward the row where all of us kids were sitting, but he wasn’t looking at us. His eyes were fixed on someone else.

By the time he got to Mrs. Parrish, the church was quiet again.

Pa stopped.

I reckon she could sense he was there. After a moment, Mrs. Parrish slowly looked up. Her eyes were all wet. Pa stood gazing down on her with the nicest, most sheepish, half-embarrassed smile I could ever have imagined on his face.

She half-laughed, but it was sort of a half-cry, too. Her handkerchief quickly went to her eyes, and she glanced away. But only for a second. She looked right back at Pa, and her eyes found his.

“Mrs. Parrish, ma’am,” said Pa sort of timidly, “I reckon there’s a thing or two you an’ me oughta be talking about.”

“Yes, Mr. Hollister,” she said, nodding, dropping her gaze and smiling softly. “I think you are right.”

Pa reached out his hand. She took it, rose to her feet, and joined him in the aisle while everyone sat and watched them.

As they started toward the door, Mrs. Parrish said, “But don’t you think, Drummond—” She said his name slowly, and though I’d heard her use his given name a time or two before, now it suddenly meant so much more as she said it. “Don’t you think that it’s finally time you started calling me Almeda?”

Even from where I was sitting in the front pew, I could see the back of Pa’s neck getting red.

“I reckon you’re right, ma’am,” he replied.

Mrs. Parrish looked up into Pa’s face with a most radiant smile. I could tell that she loved him. I think she probably had for quite a while.

They walked through the open door, outside, and down the stairs. I could hear Pa’s uneven footfall as he struggled down the steps. Inside the church it was dead silent.

Suddenly I was on my feet. I ran back to the door and looked out.

Pa was limping across the meadow next to the church with Mrs. Parrish beside him. I could tell they were talking, but their voices were much too soft and far away to hear. Mrs. Parrish slipped her hand through Pa’s arm and looked up at his face every so often.

Nobody else was around, so nobody ever heard what they said to each other. I asked them both, more than once, to tell me what they’d said.

But Pa would only reply, “That is one conversation, Corrie Belle, that ain’t never gonna find its way into your journal!” It was a good while before he said any more. But seeing the two of them like that was a sight I will never forget.

Behind me, the noise of commotion was rising again. Now it grew even louder than before. The wives didn’t know whether to be scandalized at the proceedings or happy. The men were all telling their versions of “I knew ol’ Drum would . . .”, or “Did I tell you the time when Drum . . .” Some of the saloon girls were still crying. Others were laughing and making jokes and already heading for the door to leave. I suppose Alkali Jones said it best. His only comment was, “Well, if that don’t beat all!”

I don’t know where Katie and Uncle Nick had gone, but now Uncle Nick came back into the church, more calmly this time. Katie was right behind him. He put up his hands and tried to get everyone’s attention.

“Hey, you all—quiet down!” he called out, motioning with his arms. “I got somethin’ to say!”

Pretty soon most of the folks’ eyes were on him.

“Well, I reckon I done it, huh?” he said, “I made a plumb nincompoop outta myself!”

Everyone laughed.

“But the way me an’ Katie’s got it figured is that Drum looks to be a mite too occupied right at the moment—”

More laughter and some shouts from a few of Uncle Nick’s rowdier friends. “And it seems a shame, with Katie comin’ so far an’ all, an’ all you good folks comin’ here today—well, it seems a shame to put such a colorful pretty wedding dress an’ a church full of guests to waste. So we figure we oughta go on ahead with this here wedding. An’ since Drum’s busy, I’ll take his place! Katie says none of you’d object . . . and she don’t object, neither!”

Now the place really erupted with shouts and cheers, and finally a round of applause.

Rev. Rutledge had a look of astonishment all over his face. But everyone else seemed to agree that the idea made all the sense in the world.

“’Course Katie’d like me to get cleaned up just a tad,” said Uncle Nick when he could be heard again. “So if you folks don’t mind waitin’, I’m gonna hightail it home an’ shave off some o’ these whiskers an’ throw on some clean duds, an’ I’ll be back inside an hour. That oughta give you time to round up Drum and tell him about the change in plans!”

A wave of laughter swept the room. Uncle Nick turned and ran out the door. Several seconds later we heard the galloping hoofbeats like those that had started the uproar. They quickly died in the distance.

Everyone started milling around in little groups, and slowly filed outside. Katie marched through the crowd to where Rev. Rutledge was standing and spent about five minutes with him, making whatever arrangements she had to, I reckon. Then she came over to me and the other kids. Even if she wasn’t going to marry Pa after all, she was still going to be kin, so I guess she felt it was her duty to see to us. She knelt down and explained to Tad and Becky and Emily what had happened, and told them she was going to be their Aunt Katie.

And an hour and a half later, as we all left the church for the last time that day, that’s exactly what she was.