Part 8

      Franz raked a hand through his hair.  "Isabel . . . do you want to go back to Arizona sometime?"
      "Well, I was kinda hopin' . . . "  She bit her lip.  "But—I know you want to stay here . . . so here we'll stay."
      "Are you sure about that?"  Franz asked, pursing his lips and spreading his arms.  "You could be with your family out West—doing the things you love—in the place you love."
      Isabel smiled, went to his side, and grasped his hands in hers.  "I have the man I love, here.  That's plenty enough for me."
      Franz encircled her in his arms, smiling.  "When do you want to get married?  Please say today."

      Nick jerked the axe back over his head and whacked it down on the piece of log.  The small, split pieces of wood went flying.  He worked in rhythm: placing the piece of wood on the stump, heaving, splitting, stacking, heaving, splitting.
      He wished he hadn't said those things to Jo.  She didn't deserve him.  She was right, if she ever had thoughts of his unworthiness.  But he knew she wouldn't lie.  She was telling the truth about the Bible commandment, he was sure.  He had been angry, had said the words in anger.  Now he was angry at himself.

      "Meg, do you know when you're getting married to Edward?" Jo inquired.
      Meg frowned.  "No, I haven't heard from him in a while."
      The church was alive with activity before the first service began.  Jo pivoted to return an old woman's greeting.
      The chatter slowly dimmed and came to a halt as the piano started up.
      The message was about Jesus' death on the cross and His love.
      Jo was subdued as she thought about it afterwards.
      "Bye, Jo," Meg said.
      She looked up, startled out of her thoughts.  "Bye, Meg," she answered, waving.

      "We're getting married in six days," Isabel announced.
      "What!"  Jo blinked at Franz and Isabel.  Her mouth widened into a smile.  "I knew you would get married, but—six days?  How can you possibly get ready that fast?"
      "We're already half ready, I think," Isabel said, smiling.  "I have a wedding dress that belonged to my mother.  And we spoke to the minister this afternoon."
      "Well . . . what about the ring, the cake, decorations, and food?" Jo asked.
      "We'll manage," Franz answered, smiling.
      "Look, Franz just gave me this ring!  Isn't it beautiful?" she exclaimed, holding up her hand.  A tiny white gem sparkled with the golden band.  "And I asked some of my friends about food, and they said they'd be glad to help," Isabel offered.
      Jo tilted her head down in acquiescence.  "And I'm sure Asia would be glad to help as well."
      "I don't want a fancy wedding, anyway," Isabel said.  "But I talked Franz out of getting married today."
      Jo laughed.  "Well, that's something, at least!"

      Nick paced.  He needed to ask Jo's forgiveness for his words.  But she was so busy planning with Isabel and Franz.  He rubbed his forehead.  Would it change anything if he apologized?  Probably not.  But he would feel better, at any rate.
      He heard footsteps on the porch.  He turned to see Jo standing there, the fuzzy blue coat the children had bought buttoned snugly around her.  Her hair was swirling in the breeze and her cheeks were pink.  She was beautiful.
      "Hello, Nick," Jo said, coming down the first step.
      "Jo."  He stuck his hands in his pockets.  "I'm sorry for what I said—the other day.  I didn't really mean it."
      "It's okay."  She sat down on the top step.
      He inched closer.  "Did you check out that Bible passage?" he asked softly.
      She put her head in her hands, trembling.  "Oh, Nick, it's no use!"
      He sat down next to her, rubbing his hand over her back.  "I'm not mad at you anymore, Jo.  I just don't understand—that commandment.  It doesn't seem fair of God.  If there is a God."
      "There is," Jo said.  "And He means it for both our goods.  I was angry at God, too.  I thought maybe—we could be happy together and it wouldn't matter that you're not a Christian. . . . But I know better, now.  I don't mean to hurt you, Nick.  I—I love you.  But I can't marry you."  She looked at him, tears shining in her eyes.
      He stood up.  "If I became a Christian—"
      "Yes, then I could marry you—and I would.  But Nick, you can't force yourself to believe; you can't try to do it to please me.  It wouldn't be real if you did it just so we could be married.  Do you see?"
      He let out a breath of air that swirled gray in the frosty air.  "Yeah, I see."
      "Oh, Nick.  I will pray for you every day—that you will believe.  Jesus died on a terrible cross—He agonized and paid the price that all sinners deserve."
      Nick held up his hand.  "I can't . . . I don't want to hear it now."
      Jo bit her lip, and Nick saw the hurt in her eyes.  "I'm sorry," Nick said, turning and leaving.

      Nick was the best man, and Dan and Nat were groomsmen.  Isabel picked Jo as the maid of honor.  The two other bridesmaids were Bess and Nan.
      Jo swallowed as she went down the aisle and saw Nick standing in his dress suit and tie—the ones he had worn to the dance.  His eyes met hers momentarily.  Then she took her place up front and watched a beautiful, white-clad Isabel walking in a stately stride down the aisle to the tune of the wedding march.
      Jo listened to the lovely words of promise—and wondered if she would ever say them again.
      "I do," Isabel proclaimed, smiling up at Franz.
      As the final words were spoken, joyful piano music tinkled, and the bride and groom practically ran down the aisle, grinning broadly.  Nick had taken Jo's arm and they hurried to keep up.
       Nick slowly let go of her arm and they started for the reception.

       Franz and Isabel sat down at their little lace-covered table; the groomsmen and bridesmaids sat at two tables next to them.  It was an intimate indoors reception, with tables of every sort scattered across the large room.  Firelight flickered from a fireplace on one side of the room.  Candles twinkled from candelabras, and the room was adorned with swags of lace and flowers.
       "Mmm, ham and potatoes," Isabel smiled, sniffing the aroma, then stabbing a piece of ham with her fork.
       "Better be careful where you point that fork.  It could be a very terrible weapon in your hands," Franz wisecracked.
       "Now, Franz!  Do you really want to get me angry?"  She wielded the fork in his direction, assuming a menacing glare.  Then she winked and set her fork down.
       Franz went back to eating his potatoes.
       Isabel reached for her glass of grape juice.
       "The kids didn't make that, did they?" Franz asked.
       "No, I don't think so—"  The glass suddenly slipped from her hands, and it tipped in Franz's direction, spilling all over his suit.
       Franz jumped up, wiping himself with his napkin and shaking his hands.
       "I'm sorry, Franz!  I'm sorry!" Isabel exclaimed, wiping him with her napkin.  She covered her mouth.  "I've done it again, haven't I?"
       "You sure have," Franz said, half grimacing, half smiling.
       "You're stuck with her for good, Franz!  Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?" Dan called, laughing.
       Soon the whole room was filled with laughter.
       "I'm sure," Franz whispered, leaning down to kiss Isabel.

      Jo sat at her desk, pen in hand.  She felt surprisingly relaxed and happy after all the work and festivities; even after the difficulty of standing so near to Nick and knowing she could not marry him.  Not now, and maybe not ever.
      As much as it had hurt her to say no to Nick, she had peace from the knowledge that she had done right.

      She read again these wonderful verses she had written down from the message:

      'But God commendeth his love toward us, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.'  - Romans 5:8

      'As the Father hath loved me [Jesus], so have I loved you: continue in my love.'  - John 15:9

      'In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him.  Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.'  - I John 4:9 & 10

      'We love him [God], because he first loved us.'  - I John 4:19

      'I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.'  - Gal. 2:20

      She tilted her head down and wrote:
      I was unfairly angry at God.  God's ways are so much higher than ours.  We can't understand them.  But someday we will.  She dipped her pen in the inkwell and continued.  The message at church reminded me again how undeserving and wicked I am.  Paul said he was the chief of sinners; I can say that surely about myself.  I keep going my own way, I keep faltering, I keep forgetting God's goodness.  Jesus paid a price so dear at the cross; more than just His life and awful suffering.  The real sacrifice was having our sin pinned on Him, having God turn away His face.  He gave us the most wonderful gift: the gift of love.

The End

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