Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,103

the rest of the night, Connie’s mother and father entered the room. After all these years, they still looked at each other with an expression one might find on the faces of newlyweds. They were still very much in love.

“I thought you two had gone to bed,” Connie said. “Come join us.”

Tom was already on his feet out of respect for Connie’s mother. “Please. We were just discussing the future.”

“That’s very appropriate. Your mother and I have been doing the same.” Papa led her mother to the sofa and, once she was seated, sat down beside her.

Faith and Captain Gratton appeared in the doorway. “Might we join you?” Faith asked.

“Of course.” Papa motioned her into the room. “I want you to hear this, as well as Nancy and Seth.”

“Did I hear our names mentioned?” Seth asked, drawing Nancy into the room alongside him. “We were just coming to say good night.”

“Please stay a moment. Mercy and I have an announcement to make.”

Nancy sat on a wooden chair while Seth stood behind her. He was so much improved from the injuries he’d received earlier in the year that there was talk of him soon returning to work at John Lincoln’s law office.

“What is it you want to say?” Connie asked.

“We know that after you and Tom marry, you are being relocated to a reservation in the Washington Territory.”

Connie nodded. “Yes, just after the first of the year.”

“Well, your mother and I thought . . . if you don’t mind, we’d like to follow you there and start a new church in the small town nearby. I’ve corresponded with the town mayor, and he assures me that a new church would be quite welcome.”

“That’s wonderful. I’d love for you to be close by.” Connie looked to Tom. “Wouldn’t you?”

He smiled. “I want whatever makes you happiest. Your mother and father have become more like parents to me than my own ever were. After we’re married, I’m looking forward to calling them mine.”

“We already consider you our son,” Mama replied. “But speaking of weddings, have you set a date yet?”

Connie and Tom had talked of nothing else all evening. “We thought just after Christmas, while everything is still decorated and beautiful. We’d like to marry here at Nancy’s. Right here in front of the fireplace. She told me she intends to set up a large tree in that corner over there.” Connie pointed. “I think it would be quite charming.”

“Would that be all right with you two?” Tom asked, looking at Nancy and Seth.

“I would be honored to have your wedding here. I only hope there’s enough room.” Nancy looked to Seth. “Will that be all right with you?”

“Of course.” He put his hands on Nancy’s shoulders. “I’m sure we can squeeze anyone and everyone in here.”

“It’ll only be family . . . and the ladies of the boardinghouse,” Connie said. “We don’t want a big affair.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t invite the entire family,” her father murmured.

“It’s true,” Faith replied. “We have become quite large.”

“But why wait so long?” Mama asked.

“Well, I know it will take time for Aunt Phinny and Uncle Dean to clear their schedules so they can come. They would want to be here.”

“Of course,” her father said, nodding. “They would be devastated if you left them out.”

“Perhaps we could have a double wedding,” Connie suggested. “With all the nonsense about you not really being married, we could prove once and for all that you are.”

“We already know we are,” Papa said, taking her mother’s hand. “I don’t feel the need to prove it to anyone. Washington Territory has no such foolish laws, which is another reason we want to move there. We want to be done with any accusations. We just want to live in peace and help people find their way to God.”

“I have a feeling,” Seth interjected, “that Oregonians are quickly going to tire of this nonsense as well. I think as they listen to more speakers like Mrs. Jackson, they will start to see the truth.”

“On the other hand,” Nancy added, “a lot of the men and women who live here remember the Rogue River Indian Wars just twenty-five years ago. The Whitman Mission massacre was only thirty-three years ago. There are too many people living with too many memories. Generations may have to die out before people will rethink their feelings toward the Indians.”

“Nancy’s right,” Faith replied. “I think it will be a long time before the people of Oregon forgive and forget. But until