32
The dining room of the Curry had been transformed into a wedding chapel. Chairs were arranged, fresh flowers adorned the windows, and yummy smells from the kitchen made Katherine’s stomach growl. Up to this point, she’d been too nervous to eat anything, but maybe Mrs. Johnson could spare a small snack for her.
Mr. Bradley had arranged for a man named Henry Wilcox to travel up from Anchorage to officiate the wedding, and as the hour drew near, she realized she could hardly wait to become Mrs. Langelier.
How amazing that God had changed her heart so much in just a few short months.
Her stomach rumbled again, and she made a dash for the kitchen. As she went through the door, she looked for the head chef. “Mrs. Johnson, might I trouble you for something small to eat?”
“The bride needs more than something small, lass,” Mr. Ferguson called from the corner.
“I agree.” Mrs. Johnson’s gruff voice echoed from another corner. “I think you need one of my sweet rolls.”
Katherine’s eyes widened as the two came together and prepared a plate for her in unison and precision. A sweet roll, then a scoop of fried potatoes, then a few slices of bacon. What had happened to the two cooks who always seemed at war?
“Here you are, my dear.” Mrs. Johnson handed her the plate and wiped her hands on her apron. “Eat up. You have a big day ahead.”
Taking the massive portions back to the dining room, Katherine sat in a chair meant for the guests and looked out the window. Today would be the true beginning of her new life.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Jean-Michel’s rich voice reached her ears. “At least, I think that’s the correct American phrase.”
She laughed. “You got it right. And I was just thinking about the beginning of our lives together today.”
“And you’re ready for this, oui?”
“Yes, my love. I’m ready.” She hesitated. “But we’ve never discussed . . . well . . . we never finished discussing . . .”
“What is it, Katherine?”
“What if it’s true? What if I can’t have children?” There. She said it. It was her wedding day, and she just gave the man she loved a way out.
He took her hands. “God is in control. He knows the plans He has for us, and I will be content in that. Besides . . .” He cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of speaking to Dr. Reilly. Under the circumstances, he doesn’t know for certain if what you were told was true, but since you don’t have any other facts, he said whenever you are ready, you could go see him and discuss it with him yourself. No matter the outcome, I love you. Thomas has told me that he knows of many children who need good homes—so we could still fill a house if we can’t have our own.”
This precious man. Even broken and shattered, he loved her. Just like God. “I love you, Jean-Michel.” The clock chimed. “Let’s get married.”
Jean-Michel helped Mrs. Harrison down the stairs. The older woman was dressed in her finest. Settling her on the front row, he then walked up to the front of the room and took his place next to Mr. Wilcox.
Thomas walked forward and shook the minister’s hand before taking his place at Jean-Michel’s side. “Are you ready?”
“Oui.” But his heart might just explode, it was beating so fast. He clasped his hands in front of him, thankful his leg was strong enough without the cane on this special day. Another reminder of God’s blessings and a day he never thought he’d see a few months ago.
The rest of the chairs filled with members of the staff and other guests they’d come to know.
Then the door to the dining room opened and Collette walked down the makeshift aisle, a bouquet of fresh flowers in her hands. When she reached the front, the guests all stood.
John Ivanoff led Katherine down the aisle on his arm. Dressed in a beautiful pink gown that brought out the loveliness of her hair and eyes, she kept her gaze on Jean-Michel the whole time. Her smile was bright and so were her eyes.
Could he be any happier?
“Dearly beloved,” Mr. Wilcox began. “We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Let us pray.” The man bowed his head.
Jean-Michel didn’t want to take his eyes off Katherine, but he lowered his head.
“Lord, we ask that You would be with us today as we join this man and woman in marriage. We pray a blessing on their life together—that they would grow in love for one another as they draw closer to You. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
“Amen,” the guests murmured.
Jean-Michel felt sweat bead up on his hands as they repeated their vows. He didn’t deserve to be this happy, and yet here he stood. Marrying the woman he’d loved for so long.
In the blink of an eye, it seemed it was all over. Mr. Wilcox pronounced them man and wife.
As Jean-Michel leaned down to kiss his new wife, the Curry Hotel dining room erupted in joyful cries.
But all sound melted away as his lips met hers. Innocence, trust, and a lifetime of pain that God turned into joy in that gentle kiss. God had blessed him indeed.
The crowd rushed to congratulate them, and Jean-Michel saw the bliss captured on Katherine’s face. He hoped to keep it there for the rest of their lives.
“We’ve a beautiful cake and punch to do this up right,” Mrs. Johnson announced as two of her staff brought in the two-tiered cake on a silver tray.
“I don’t believe I’m feeling quite up to staying for cake,” Katherine’s grandmother announced. “I wonder if someone might escort me back to my room.”
Jean-Michel moved forward to assist the older woman, but John Ivanoff waved him off. “I would be honored.” He helped her from her chair and placed a protective arm around her. Once they reached the stairs, John lifted her in his arms. Grandmother Harrison offered no protest.
Katherine wrapped an arm around Jean-Michel’s back. “Let’s stay a few minutes and celebrate with everyone, then we can go check on her. She wants us to have our day.” A sheen of tears shone in her eyes. “I promised her we would stay.” The corners of her mouth tipped up into a sad smile.
He nodded. This was their day, but they both knew Maria Harrison was not long for this world.
Mrs. Johnson scurried around the room serving cake while Mr. Ferguson disbursed cups of punch. Katherine was still in shock. What had happened between those two? Their fights had become notorious gossip shared around the hotel. And now—well, now, they seemed to almost enjoy each other’s company.
Maybe it was all a ruse. They could be doing it just for her—to keep her day special.
Whatever the reason, she was forever grateful. The day had been perfect. As she stood next to her husband, they held hands and spoke to the guests.
“So where will you live?” Allan directed his question to Jean-Michel. “Since you’re from France and Katherine is from America, will you make both your home?”
Jean-Michel glanced at her. “I’m not sure. We need to talk about it. But I can say quite honestly that there is nothing in France that beckons me back.”
“I certainly have no desire to live in New York.” Katherine smiled up at him.
“Would you consider staying here?” Jean-Michel turned to her. “The town is growing, we have friends here . . .” He let the sentence hang.
Her heart filled with love for this man. “I would love to stay.”
“Excellent!” Allan clapped his hands together. “Now we just need to figure out how to get you a house built before the snow flies.”
Collette came up beside Katherine. “Is this true? You’re staying in Alaska?”
Jean-Michel looked a bit fearful. “I’m so sorry, Collette. I had hoped to speak to you on the matter, but yes. It’s true. I have no desire to go back to France. However, I will go back to settle you there if that is your desire.”
Collette said nothing for a moment, but then she shook her head. “Non. I have no wish to go back, but neither do I want to impose on you.” She straightened her shoulders and grabbed Katherine’s other hand. “I believe I would like to work with Mrs. Johnson and Cassidy.”
“You want to work . . . as a staff member?” Jean-Michel sounded shocked.
Katherine looked back to her new sister-in-law and raised her eyebrows.
She smiled and nodded. “Not forever, frère. But oui, I do. I like feeling useful.”
Jean-Michel put his arm around Katherine and smiled out to the crowd. “It would seem we have made a decision to remain in Alaska.”
The bell outside rang and brought the room to silence.
The railroad master ran into the room. “Mr. Bradley!”
All eyes turned at the urgency in the man’s voice.
“What is it?” The manager set his punch down and became all business.
“There’s a tree down on the tracks. A big one. And the next train will be here in less than twenty minutes.”
Thomas ran as fast as his legs could carry him. A tree down on the tracks with a steam locomotive headed for it at full speed could be devastating. When he reached the site, he realized that at least it was close enough to the Curry that the engineer would be slowing down, but it wouldn’t be enough. And it would be too late.
They had to get the tree off the tracks.
Men worked with chains to try to move the massive trunk, but they needed more man power. Thomas took off his suit jacket and threw it to the ground.
As the crowd began to gather, the railroad master barked orders. “We need all able-bodied men to help lift.”
Several more men came forward, including Jean-Michel, Allan, and John. But they needed more.
Mr. Bradley removed his coat and joined them as well.
“Mr. Bradley!” Miss Moreau ran toward them. “I went to get my uncle . . . he may have issues with his mind, but he is very strong . . .” The young woman sobbed. “But he is not there.”
“Miss, we’ve got to get this tree off the tracks. After that, we’ll form a search party for your uncle, but at the moment, you need to move out of the way!”
Thomas had never heard the manager quite so adamant. But it seemed every time they turned around, this tiny little thing had lost her uncle. They didn’t need another crisis. Not now.
“All right, men.” The railroad master yelled his command, “Heave!”
The giant trunk moved a few inches.
Grunts and groans were heard through the line of men. The tree had to have been at least eighty feet tall. Were there enough of them to move it?
“Heave!”
Another few piddly inches.
The train’s horn sounded in the distance.
“Let’s go men, heave!”
A shabby form appeared at the edge of the tree line.
Thomas recognized the man. “PJ! Please come help us!”
The disheveled man stared at Thomas with a blank expression. But before Thomas could call out to him again, PJ caught sight of Jean-Michel and hurried to his side. He gave a crisp salute.
“Mon Général, I have come to make my report.”
Jean-Michel looked at him as if seeing a ghost. Thomas heard the train grow closer. “Get him to help us, Jean-Michel.”
“Uh . . . uh . . .” Jean-Michel seemed unable to comprehend what needed to be done.
“The general needs your help.” Thomas grabbed hold of the man’s arm. “We must move this tree . . . now!”
The man nodded and with surprising agility jumped over the trunk of the tree and stood opposite Jean-Michel.
Thomas gave the man a nod and took his place as well.
The railroad master shouted, “Heave!”
Another blast from the train horn.
“Heave!”
They could see the steam engine now. It wouldn’t have time to stop . . . even if the engineer saw them.
“Come on, men! Heave!”
Everyone must have had a burst of adrenaline, because the tree moved the last foot off the tracks.
The squeal of brakes pierced all their ears.
As the train passed safely over the tracks and came to a stop, Thomas went to grab PJ. This had to be the same man he’d seen searching the hotel, mumbling about the general—the mysterious, missing uncle. But he was a mess. How had he gotten in such bad shape?
“PJ?”
The man’s eyes opened wider and looked around wildly at the crowd. Thomas grabbed the man’s arm before he could run.
“Un moment, Thomas.” Jean-Michel approached. He searched the man’s face. “Non. It can’t be.”
“What do you mean? Do you know this man?”
“Oui. I do. His name is Caporal—I believe you say, Corporal—Phillippe Moreau.”
Phillippe straightened with another crisp salute. “Mon Général!” Then his eyes narrowed and a look of confusion came over his face. “General? Non, you are not the general. You are . . . you know what I’ve . . .”
The disheveled man collapsed to the ground in a dead faint.