So Alone Part 23

"Thanks for stopping in, Bill."

The men shook hands just as Bette walked by Peter's open office door. She waved her sun hat with a polka-dot band. "Hi, boys."

"Bette, I thought you were going to quit calling grown men, boys," Bill called after her.

Bette giggled and continued on toward Harriet's office.

"Are those really red and white stripe hightops she's wearing?" Bill asked, his eyes wide with surprise. "I tell you, if I were twenty years older," he joked.

Three weeks later, Sunday dawned hot and sunny in Sunville. Not a cloud marred the unending royal-blue North Dakota sky, but not even the bright light could wake Carrie.

Exhausted from moving into her house the day before, she'd unintentionally slept in. She was in the back bedroom again as she'd always been while Maddie was still alive. She couldn't bring herself to sleep in the four-poster bed in the master bedroom all by herself. That wasn't part of her dream.

The night before, after emptying the little trailer that she'd pulled back from Fargo filled with all her belongings from her apartment, Carrie had to drive back twenty-five miles to find a place open late enough to allow her to return it and remove the rented hitch.

She patted the top of her little car as she climbed in to return home. "I promise I won't ever abuse you with a trailer again," she said. But not wanting to overtax the car is why she had taken so long to move. She hadn't gone over forty-five miles an hour all the way.

This was one time she was thankful that the eastern section of North Dakota was more or less flat. The car still sounded fine and since she wouldn't have a regular income for the foreseeable future, that was a good sign.

By the time she returned to the house, she had energy enough only to shower and collapse into bed without a thought to the boxes and suitcases that lined her front hall. She'd tamped down how excited, and yes, how nervous she felt at the prospect of surprising Peter in the morning and was asleep instantly with a smile on her face.

The sounds of the church organ music and the choir singing the processional floated through her open bedroom windows and woke her. Panicked at being late for the service, she bounded out of bed wide awake.

She dressed in a two-piece dress and ran a brush through her hair. She skipped her makeup altogether. She didn't need it. The shadows in evidence under her eyes when she returned to Fargo were gone. Once she'd learned from Don that the elders had listened to Bette's story and convinced Peter not to leave the church, Carrie found she could sleep better. She'd been ready to call Peter to urge him to stay, but she hadn't needed to. In fact, she hadn't talked to him in the weeks since she'd left without saying goodbye.

Don knew she was returning this weekend, but she'd asked him not to tell Peter. "I want to surprise him," Carrie told Don. "Actually, what I really want to do is to see his face when he sees me back in Sunville. I have to be sure I'm doing the right thing, and seeing Peter's initial reaction will be the key."

Carrie tried to ignore the flutters in her tummy when she thought about seeing him. She flew down the stairs as fast as her low heels would allow, and out the back door without bothering to lock it. In another two minutes, she'd crossed the lawns and was tiptoeing in the main entrance to the quaint, historic Sunville Community Church.

The foyer was empty so she walked across the carpeted floor to stand behind the closed doors to the sanctuary. She swallowed and tried to breathe more slowly and more quietly as she waited for the right moment to slip into the sanctuary unnoticed.

The deacons were collecting the offering while the choir sang the anthem. She stood patiently, peeking through the slit between the double doors. The choir finished, Peter blessed the offering and turned his back to sit down.

The moment his back was to the congregation, Carrie slipped through the doors and slid into the last pew on the center aisle just before the deacons marched right by her with the offering plates.

Smiling at the people who glanced back at her late arrival, she picked up the hymnal to find the page for the responsive reading that the layreader was announcing. When she heard the first line, she knew she didn't need to follow in the book.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want," the reader told the congregation.

Carrie sought out Peter's face which she could see in profile. She wished she was closer so she could see him better. He was watching the reader. That stubborn strand of hair had fallen over his forehead again.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters," Carrie responded with the others. She certainly felt more at peace than she had in years.

"He restoreth my soul," she heard the reader say. He has restored me, Carrie thought. During the many phone conversations with Don Hoag, Carrie had taken giant strides on the path to peace and strength within herself. She'd forgiven the townspeople who had rumored that her part in Ralph's death was a major one. She knew better now. That part of her life was put to rest.

"For Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me," she said moments later.

Peter looked tired. Carrie could see that the problems he'd been facing hadn't left him unscathed. She felt his pain and wanted to help. She smiled. Now she could... if he would let her.

"My cup runneth over." Since I met you, Peter, she added silently. I'm blessed just knowing you, and twice blessed because I love you.

As if he'd heard her, his head jerked around and he looked directly at her. She smiled at the surprised and then relieved looks that pa.s.sed over his face. While they looked at each other in silence, the others around them read, "And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."

The lay reader sat down.

Peter and Carrie's gazes held long into the silence until a few coughs gently reminded Peter that it was his turn at the pulpit.

Carrie watched as he stood slowly and walked over to it, never taking his eyes off her. She tried to keep smiling, but her lips trembled. She clutched the hymnal to her chest to hide the fact that her hands were trembling as well.

"Each Sunday we have a silent prayer at this point in our service," Peter began softly, letting the microphone do the work of amplifying his voice. He paused and looked around the congregation. The remarks he was making at this point in the service were so out of the ordinary that he had everyone's rapt attention. "I believe in the power of prayer, and today I..." His gaze returned to Carrie. "Well, I'm the one in need of that power in my life. I'm asking you to pray for me."

Carrie could hear the collective sharp intakes of air by the congregation expressing their concern.

"I've been praying about something for weeks. It's very personal. I can't share it with you just yet, but this morning I'm asking you to pray for me, to help me find the right solution to my problem."

A low buzz of private conversations hummed across the sanctuary as people conjectured on what the nature of Peter's problem might be.

"I'm not sick or anything," Peter added quickly with a dismissing sweep of his arm, apparently realizing what they might have construed from his plea. "Lost a little weight in the last few weeks maybe, but hey, that's not all bad." He chuckled at himself with the congregation.

"I'll take all the help I can get on this one, folks." His gaze settled back on Carrie. "Let's bow our heads in silent prayer."

The heads around them bowed, but Carrie continued to look up at Peter. His black robe made his black hair seem even darker. The high white collar around his neck stood out in stark contrast to his tanned face. Had he been mowing the church lawn again?

Her smile grew as she sat up straighter so he could be sure to see her whole face. She'd seen the love and concern in his face that she prayed would be there when he saw her. She felt strong and confident in what she wanted to do.

I love you, she mouthed silently.

With evident relief born of understanding and a broad smile filling his face, Peter closed his eyes and tipped his chin heavenward. "Thank you," he whispered.

Carrie closed her own eyes and bowed her head. She prayed for Peter, for herself and for the life she hoped with all her heart that they could have together. Thankful for his help, she prayed for Don, and the selfless work he did at the nursing home.

Most of all, she prayed that Peter still had room in his heart for her because she wanted with all her heart to fill that s.p.a.ce. They had a lot of talking to do. She wanted to tell him all about Ralph... even the great plans they'd made... plans that she'd abandoned long before Ralph's death. Most of all she wanted to talk about the plans that she and Peter would make for a life together.

The rest of the service pa.s.sed in a blurred montage of words and songs. Carrie wondered what she would say to Peter when she exited the church and shook his hand along with all the rest of the congregation. When the final recessional hymn began, she slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and stood with the congregation, a hymnal in her hands.

Between the first and second lines, she glanced up to see Peter quickly descending the steps from the pulpit leading the choir by a good thirty feet instead of following them at their more sedate pace, as he usually did. Carrie forgot all about singing as he veered off the path down the center to her side. He grasped her hand and, allowing for no resistance, pulled her out into the aisle with him.

The startled woman beside her caught the hymnal that slipped from her hands so the book didn't crash to the floor.

Peter led her through the open doors at the back of the sanctuary. Carrie felt heat rush into her cheeks and knew that the people who sat at the back of the church were watching them with undisguised interest. This time she wasn't worried about what the rumor mill would say about it. She only thought about Peter and how wonderful it was to see him again.

He continued to lead her to the far side of the foyer where he stopped and pulled her into his arms. He hugged her hard, his long, full robe circling them both like a cape. "You came back," he said with a rush of air by her ear.

"I had to. I know now that this is where I belong--with you. I love you, Peter," she confessed. "I couldn't stay away."

He straightened. His hands moved to cup her face as he looked squarely into her eyes. "Say that again. Now that I can hear you and see your face clearly, please say it again."

She spread her hands on his chest. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart that matched the rhythm of her own. "Peter, I love you with all my heart. I always will."

He took a deep breath. "Carolyn Whitmore, will you marry me?" he asked quietly, his voice tremulous.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Peter, whenever you want."

He hugged her again, even harder. She felt the air whoosh out of his lungs past her ear again. She knew he must have been holding his breath until he heard her answer.

"I love you forever," he whispered into her ear.

"Mm... music," she said moments later. "The music has stopped!"

They both turned their heads to see that the choir had stopped at the back of the aisle. They and the congregation, now turned their way, were all watching them. They had a good view through all the broad rear doors which stood propped wide open.

A grin on his face, Peter took Carrie's hand in his and moved with her back into the back of the center aisle. The choir parted like the Red Sea to allow Peter and Carolyn to walk up toward the front of the church.

Although the music had stopped, the sanctuary was noisy with conversation and speculation. Carrie could feel she was blushing, but was startled when she looked up sheepishly at Peter to find his cheeks were rosy under his tan as well.

Peter cleared his throat. "Ah, before I p.r.o.nounce the benediction, I... I'd like to introduce you to someone." He bent his arm to lift Carrie's hand and hold it against his chest. "This is Carolyn... ah, Carrie Whitmore who many of you already know is Maddie Whitmore's granddaughter. If you don't already know her, I want you to meet her today."

He smiled down at her and then went on. "I also want to thank you all for your prayers this morning, because they were answered and my problem is solved--just the way I hoped and prayed it would be. You see, Carolyn has just consented to become my wife."

The congregation applauded. Several people called out, "Congratulations!"

Looking up into his beaming face, Carrie could only grin along with him. No tears p.r.i.c.ked at her eyes, she realized. No fears filled her. No guilt and regret enshrouded or diminished her. Joy filled her heart. Joy and love. Thank you, dear Lord, she prayed.

When the sanctuary was quiet again, Peter p.r.o.nounced the benediction, and a wave of well wishers surrounded them.

Carrie held his hand as firmly as he held hers. She didn't need to lean on him now, but she was glad he would be by her side if the need arose sometime in the future. And now she was confident she could be there to provide willing support for him whenever he needed her.

The well-wishers wanted to shake both their hands, but Peter's right held her left. "Just a minute here," he said laughing. To free his right hand, he moved to stand behind Carrie. He took her left hand in his left and raised them to her waist so he could hold her against his left side. This way they both had their right hands free to shake the hands of those greeting them.

"Isn't that cute?" a member of the church teased. "He doesn't want to let go of her."

"Now that I've got her back, I'm never letting her go!" Peter responded instantly.

Much later, after the church was empty, Carrie and Peter crossed the lawns and sat in her kitchen eating sandwiches and fruit for a lunch created from the few groceries that Carrie had brought with her from Fargo.

"Peter, I just remembered. Would you remind me to call the realtor and ask who the buyer was who made the purchase offer for this house? It was David somebody or other. I didn't recognize the name. He must have given up, but I want to be sure he understands the house is no longer for sale." She stood to carry the empty dishes to the sink.

"The name on the offer is Dutch," Peter said matter-of-factly as he rose and picked up the remaining dishes.

Peter's loafers silently crossed the tiled kitchen floor. He came up behind her to put down the dishes, and wrapped his arms around her waist. He silently kissed the side of her neck, instantly sending goose b.u.mps down her back.

"Wait a minute. How do you know what his name was? Did I show it to you?" she asked, unable to remember what she had done with the offer that morning.

"No, you didn't need to," he said turning her in his arms to face him. "The name on the offer is Dutch for Newhouse. That's the way one branch of our family still spells our name."

She looked up at the tall gentle man whom she loved. "You?"

He nodded. "I love you, Carolyn," he whispered, his voice vibrating with emotion. "You were so determined to leave that I thought if I bought the house..." He stopped and inhaled deeply. "From the moment I realized I loved you, I never lost hope that I could convince you to come back some day."

Carrie raised her arms to circle his neck as they hugged each other. "I love you, Peter," she promised. "And I thank our dear Lord that you came into my life."

In her heart she knew they would love each other for the rest of their lives and she would never be so alone again.

The End.