Prairie Romance Collection Read online

He needed to get his mind off that subject. “I received an interesting telegram today, Maggie.” How he enjoyed the feel of her name in his mouth.

  That caught her interest. “From whom?”

  “My father.” John still had a hard time believing it. “My parents have never traveled since they had children, but now they’re coming to Minnesota to visit me.”

  Maggie laid her hand on John’s arm. “That’s wonderful! When are they coming?”

  John placed his other hand on top of her fingers, hugging them close. “They’ll be here for the Independence Day celebration.”

  “But that’s just next week.”

  “I know.” He gave her hand another squeeze. “They’ll arrive on Monday and stay until Friday.” John released her fingers and slid one arm around her waist. “I can hardly wait for them to meet you.”

  Maggie wanted to meet them, too, but she was a little anxious. What if she wasn’t what they had in mind for their son? What if his mother could tell what she was thinking? Maggie needed someone to talk to about all that was happening. Maybe Holly could help her.

  When Maggie told her best friend what she had been thinking on the boat, Holly laughed. “Oh, Maggie, you’re so funny.”

  The two women sat in the parlor at the Brunson farm. Maggie picked up a decorative pillow from beside her on the sofa. She hugged it close. “I don’t see anything funny about it.”

  Holly got up from the rocking chair and came to sit beside Maggie. “What you’re feeling is perfectly natural.” She put her arm around Maggie. “That’s what a courtship is. Getting to know one another and letting your feelings for each other grow. It wouldn’t be natural if you didn’t want to touch John and have him touch you.”

  Maggie smiled. “I really want him to kiss me, even if it wouldn’t be proper. On the boat when he put his arm around me, I felt as if I were melting inside. I wanted to stand on tiptoes and kiss him if he wasn’t going to kiss me first.”

  Holly laughed again, even longer this time. “Do you love John?”

  “I’m not sure what love for a man is, but I can hardly stand the waiting when we’re apart. Even while I’m working around the farm or sewing or taking care of Rascal or the other animals, all I think about is John. The last time we were together. The next time we’ll be together. Is that love?”

  Holly gave a secret smile. “I know. That’s how I felt about Hans…before we married.”

  “And now?”

  “Oh, Maggie, that love just grows and grows, and the touching gets better all the time.” A blush stained Holly’s cheeks. Maggie wondered exactly what she was talking about, and she hoped she would soon find out for herself.

  Chapter 6

  It had been months since John had last seen his parents. Although he came from a close-knit family, he hadn’t realized how much he missed them until he received the message that they were coming to Wayzata. He went to the depot early so he could finish most of his work before they arrived. He planned on taking the rest of the day off so he could show Mom and Dad around town. Not many trains came through on Monday. The eastbound they rode came through about 3:00 p.m. It was the last.

  When it was almost time for the train to arrive, John shoved his hands in his pockets and paced the wooden platform that connected the depot to the railroad tracks. The breeze that blew fluffy clouds across the sky brought relief from summer’s heat. He wondered what his parents would think about Maggie. He dismissed the question from his mind. How could his family not love the woman he planned to wed?

  The next few days would be busy. Tomorrow was the Independence Day celebration, and Wayzata already was decked out in patriotic colors. Bunting hung around buildings and at intervals across the street along the parade route. Not only were Wayzata’s citizens planning on participating, but many people from Minneapolis and St. Paul who spent part or all of the summer in cottages on the banks of Lake Minnetonka would be present as well.

  The last time John passed the ice cream parlor, he noticed a sign advertising a red, white, and blue sundae made with vanilla ice cream, strawberries, and blueberries. He planned to take Maggie and his parents to get one. Both Maggie and his mother would especially enjoy the frozen treat.

  The whistle of the approaching train brought him out of his musings. John moved back and leaned against the wall of the depot, striking a relaxed pose.

  The engine chugged into the station accompanied by the squeal of brakes as it slowed to a stop. John scanned the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of his parents. He spotted them in the third passenger car, so he hurried toward that one where the conductor hopped down from the steps. John’s father followed the man then turned to offer his hand to John’s mother, who stood on the bottom step.

  John drank in the beauty of her face. She looked younger than she had the last time he had seen her. When her feet touched the platform, he pulled her into a bear hug and whirled her around. John was glad he was tall like his father instead of being short like his mother.

  “John, put me down,” Mom whispered into his ear while she held her straw hat on with one hand and hugged him back.

  After John settled her on the wooden platform, he shook hands with his dad, then the two men clapped each other on the shoulder.

  “Let’s get the two of you settled in your hotel room before supper.” John picked up the two valises the conductor set on the platform beside them.

  John and Maggie ate dinner at the hotel with his parents. It didn’t take her long to fall in love with them. His father was as tall and slim as John. Evidently, John had inherited his dark hair. Maggie was sure John would look just as distinguished as his father did when his hair silvered at the temples. John’s eyes, though, had come from his mother. Not only were hers the same light green, but they contained a sparkle similar to the one that usually lit his.

  Maggie already knew a lot about his parents. How his mother hadn’t learned a lot about being a housewife and mother before his parents met. John told her about being a young boy and loving to brush the tangles out of his mother’s long strawberry-blond curls. She enjoyed letting the children take turns brushing her hair. The woman who sat across the table from Maggie had her hair arranged in a Gibson girl hairdo. The smooth pouf let only a few wisps touch her cheeks and neck. To achieve a style like that, she must have learned how to manage all the curls John talked about.

  “John has told us a great deal about you.” Mrs. Collins’s smile went straight to Maggie’s heart. “We’re glad he has a good friend like you.”

  John had told Maggie about his two sisters. Esther was only two years younger than he was, and she had married recently. Miriam was four years younger than John. At ten, their brother, Matthew, was the youngest. The lively conversation around the table contained many references to John’s brother and sisters. Maggie imagined that life had been interesting in the Collinses’ home in North Dakota. She often wished for more brothers and sisters when she was growing up.

  “Where are Miriam and Matthew staying?” John asked his mother.

  Maggie could tell from the tone of John’s voice and the smile on his mother’s face that the two of them had a special relationship. She remembered the wonderful relationship Valter had with their mother. Maybe someday she would have a son to love the same way. For a moment, she saw a little boy with dark hair and John’s green eyes laughing up at her with love in his expression. It brought the heat of a blush to her cheeks. She hoped no one noticed.

  “They’re with Esther and Levi. They’re the first guests to stay with them in the new house Levi built for Esther before they married.” Mrs. Collins straightened the silverware on the table in front of her. “He’s such a nice young man. We’re glad he and Esther got together.”

  John’s father cleared his throat. “We’re sure God put them together, aren’t we, Brigit?”

  Mrs. Collins turned a loving glance toward her husband and nodded. Then she looked back toward John. “So what are we going to do tomorrow?”

&n
bsp; “There’s a parade in the morning at eleven o’clock. Then we’ll have a picnic. The city has a park down by Lake Minnetonka. That’s where most of the activities will take place.” John looked at Maggie and paused, giving her a chance to add to what he said.

  “There’ll be races and games like horseshoes and baseball. I think you can even take a ride on the side-wheeler if you want to. Lake Minnetonka winds around in many directions, and that’s the best way to see it.”

  Mrs. Collins started to say something, but the waitress arrived with their food. After the woman left, John’s mother leaned toward Maggie. “It sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “I’ll prepare a picnic basket for us.” Maggie looked down at the huge steak sizzling on her plate. She wasn’t sure that she would be able to finish it.

  “Would you like me to return thanks, son?” John agreed, and his father spoke a few words of blessing over their food.

  When John arrived at the farm to pick Maggie up on Tuesday, she had everything prepared for the Independence Day festivities. He went into the house to help her carry the picnic basket. She also handed him a quilt they could spread on the ground under one of the shade trees. Maggie accompanied him to the buggy. Besides her handbag, she carried a large parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine.

  “Would you like me to get that for you?”

  “No, it’s not heavy.” Maggie placed the package in the floorboard beside the basket.

  “What is it anyway?” John couldn’t contain his curiosity.

  “You’ll see later. It’s a surprise.”

  John placed his hands on Maggie’s waist when he helped her up into the vehicle. He liked the feel of her trim waist. “Who is it for? My parents?”

  “Aren’t you the curious one?” Maggie laughed and didn’t give him any more information.

  When they arrived at the hotel, John stopped the buggy at the back door and tied the horses to the hitching post. He took the picnic basket in and left it in his parents’ room so it would be out of the sun during the parade. Maggie waited in the hotel lobby for him to return with his parents. The proprietor had placed chairs on the boardwalk in front of the building so his customers would have a comfortable place to watch the parade. When the Collins family arrived in the lobby, they accompanied Maggie to choose where they would sit. A canopy over the boardwalk in front of the hotel protected them from the bright sunlight.

  Soon after they sat down, the parade started. A band led the procession, playing “Stars and Stripes Forever.” Maggie enjoyed the lively march, tapping her toe in tune with the beat. She had read about how John Philip Sousa wrote the march on Christmas Day in 1896 while on an ocean voyage. After his return to the United States, the song became very popular. Now it was a welcome addition to Independence Day celebrations all over the country. The song made Maggie proud to be an American, too. Her parents hadn’t been born in the United States, but she and Vally had been.

  Soldiers who fought in the Spanish-American War followed the band. Maggie didn’t like the idea of war, but this one lasted less than a year. It gave Cuba independence from Spain and made Guam and Puerto Rico part of the United States. It also ended Spanish rule in the Philippines. She understood why the soldiers were proud of the victory they won. As they marched in perfect precision, they often saluted the citizens lining the path of the parade.

  Aoooga! Aoooga! Maggie turned her head to look behind the last of the soldiers.

  “What is that awful noise?” Mrs. Collins craned her neck as she searched for whatever was causing it.

  “It’s the horn of a motorcar.” John patted his mother’s hand.

  Maggie watched the mayor of Wayzata as he slowly drove down the street while squeezing the bulb on the horn of his automobile. His wife sat beside him. The open vehicle was painted red with lots of gold accents. “I’m not sure if I really like those things. They make a lot of noise, and my mare shies away from them.”

  “They cause many of the horses to be restless,” John added. “One even ran away with its rider last week. It was the talk of the town for a day or two.”

  “Thankfully, no one near us has one yet.” Mr. Collins frowned as he watched the contraption go down the street away from them.

  Following the mayor, several young men rode their bicycles, which they decorated with red, white, and blue streamers. They rang their bells in no particular sequence, but the cacophony wasn’t unpleasant. Maggie wondered if it would be hard to ride a bicycle. She liked riding her horse. They were partners in the balancing act, but how could you balance on thin wheels?

  Mrs. Collins started laughing at the antics of three clowns who followed the cyclists. One did flips and walked on his hands as he moved down the street; another floated along on tall wooden stilts; and the third rode a unicycle. Maggie had heard about these one-wheeled cycles, but this was the first time she had seen anyone riding one.

  With the end of the parade, people started making their way toward the park. John escorted Maggie and his mother to the buggy while his father went to the room to retrieve the basket of food.

  When they alighted from the buggy at the park, John led the way to one of the tall trees that spread shade across the lush grass. He chose one on a little rise so they could observe all that went on around them. John noticed that Maggie once again carried the mysterious parcel. However, she set it aside while they had lunch. After they ate their fill of the baked chicken, fresh tomatoes, and chocolate cake, the two women packed all the dishes and utensils back into the basket, and John carried it to the buggy. When he returned, he dropped onto the quilt beside Maggie. His mother was sitting nearby, and his father lay with his head in her lap. Although there were many people in the park, groups were scattered far enough away from each other so it felt almost private.

  Maggie looked up at John. “I have a surprise for you.” She thrust the parcel into his hands and waited wide-eyed for him to open it.

  When he pulled back the brown paper, he uncovered a quilt. “Did you make this for me?”

  “My quilt!” His mother leaned close and rubbed her hand gently across the folded cover before she glanced at Maggie. “How did you get my quilt?”

  Maggie studied John. “I know you said it was just an old quilt, but when I washed it, I could see that it was special.”

  “It certainly is!” his mother exclaimed. “I told you all about it in the letter I packed with it when I gave it to you.”

  John’s brows knit in a confused expression. “There wasn’t a letter with it.”

  “I don’t understand. I wrote it so you would understand.” She gave John a loving pat. “It’s all right. You didn’t know. I learned to sew while making this quilt using my wedding dress. That’s where this green fabric came from.” Once again, her hand caressed the coverlet in John’s lap.

  Mr. Collins sat up and watched them.

  “I made my wedding dress, but it fell apart the first time I washed it.” She took the quilt from John and spread it out so they could see all the blocks. “This white fabric I used in several blocks. It was the shirt Peter wore for our wedding.” She caressed another block with her fingertips. “This was from a gown Mrs. Gladney made for John when he was a baby. She was a member of our church. And this flannel came from one of John’s blankets. That’s why I gave the quilt to him when he moved.”

  Maggie had been intently watching John’s mother. “I knew the quilt had to be special, but I didn’t know how special. It pulled apart in several places after I washed it. My best friend, Holly Brunson, and I restored it. It was actually when we were working on the quilt that my relationship with God was restored, too.”

  John knew that statement would catch his father’s attention.

  “Why was your relationship with the Lord damaged?” he asked.

  “I pulled away from Him after I lost both my parents and my brother. Holly told me that God could restore my relationship with Him the same way we were mending the quilt. After I had time to think about
the idea, I understood what she was talking about. I started going back to church, reading my Bible, and praying. My life completely changed.”

  John’s mother touched his arm. “You haven’t told us why Maggie had your quilt in the first place.”

  “It’s kind of a long story.” John swallowed a lump in his throat. He felt guilty for not realizing the importance of his mother’s gift to him.

  “We have plenty of time.” John’s mother leaned back against the tree and crossed her arms.

  John knew she wouldn’t leave him alone until she had the whole story, so he told her all about killing Maggie’s dog by mistake and taking Rascal to her wrapped in the quilt.

  When he finished, Maggie added to the story. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without John’s help…or without Rascal to love. That puppy filled a void in my life. I’m thankful John brought him to me.”

  Brigit patted Maggie’s arm. “I’m glad he did, too.”

  Chapter 7

  John’s mother told him to come by the hotel after he took Maggie home. He figured she would chastise him for not taking care of the quilt. She hadn’t told him how important the thing was when she gave it to him. He just remembered it being around the house most of his life. All the way back to town, he rehearsed different ways to apologize to her for what he had done.

  His mother answered his knock. “Come in, John.”

  She didn’t look upset. In fact, her bright smile and twinkling eyes warmed his heart. She pulled him into a welcoming hug.

  After the embrace ended, John studied his mother. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Why, Maggie, of course.” The answer contained a lilt of excitement.

  John’s thoughts jumbled, since he was prepared to apologize and defend his actions, but his mother introduced an entirely different subject. “Why do you want to talk about Maggie?”

  His father stepped up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just what are your intentions toward the young lady?” His eyes also twinkled.