From Mourning to Joy

play.” He looked at Bernie. “Did you play allies when you were a boy, Mr. B?”
“Certainly did. The King of Alley Road was my nickname. Might be persuaded to pass on a few tips, just so you can show them town boys that farmer Davey Rimes is a serious contender to beat them at their own game.”
Davey squealed. “Did you hear that, Ma?” He raced over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t never run Mr. B off with your gun. I like him.” Hurrying into his boots, he yelled over his shoulder before the door slammed, “Beat you to the barn, Mr. B.”
Bernie honed his gaze in on Janelle. “The boy likes me. I’m hoping his mother warms up to the idea of keeping me around.”
“Is that what you want – to work yourself to death on this pint-sized farm with no promise of riches?”
“Don’t recall saying I was searching for riches. A successful life means sharing the good and bad times with people you care about.”
“And you care about us,” Janelle stammered. “I mean, for the long-term?”
“Thought I made that pretty clear. Just waiting for you to cozy up to the idea.” Bernie tipped his hat and opened the door.
At lunch, Bernie broke the silence around the table as the hungry crew slurped down pea soup. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to town and help the fellas build some props to decorate the hotel for Saturday night. Figure if I’m going to stomp around the dance floor, I should offer a hand in setting the scene.”
“That’s very generous of you, Bernie,” said Janelle.
“Or selfish, depending on what side of the coin you’re tossing.” He winked and she turned a pale shade of red.
“Ah, a romantic gent hides under all that manly exterior. Why am I not surprised?” Janelle grinned when he cast an innocent glance her way. “Well, the town of Belle and I both thank you for your contribution. Organizing events in the West that bring folks together is important to keep loneliness at bay. I never appreciated them at home, Far too many. But here I can see where solitude might get the best of a person without an occasional fun time.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Bernie jumping to his feet. “I’ll be heading out. Missing anything for that dress?”
“Nothing. By tonight I will be well underway with the garment. My chores will be slacking but I’ll get Davey to help me.”
“Ah, Ma, I’d rather go to town.”
“No, boy. You stay and help your Ma. Work on all fronts need to be done before Saturday night. He dressed in his winter wear and waved as he closed the door behind him and headed to saddle Blaze for the trip to town.

Chapter 13
When Bernie reached Belle, he stopped to gaze upon the middle green that faced Main Street. The large pine stood unadorned as Christmas celebrations were long over. The full-grown evergreen, Belle Creek, and Wynter’s Mountain overshadowed the scene with frosty-awe. The landscape seemed to enclose Belle within a cocoon protecting it against the world beyond. Peace reached out and wrapped its arms around his heart. As Bernie drew near, he felt more at home here in this strange land than he had his entire life in Chute, Texas.
One evening, while sitting around the fire, Janelle had described to him every wonderful moment of that festive event and how it had served as a brief interruption in her dark winter of mourning. The Stewarts had driven her and Davey both ways in their sleigh and managed to ignite a glimmer of hope in mother and son for the first time since Jacob’s death. Bernie hoped the upcoming February dance would help push her mourning into joy, at least long enough for her to acknowledge the longing of his heart.
Bernie cast aside his musing and focused his attention on the feverish hammering coming from inside the carpenter shop. Dismounting, he tied Blaze to the hitching post and then jumped onto the boarded platform.
Stepping inside the entrance, he spotted Henry down on his knees pounding nails into one side of a lattice. He tapped him on the back. “I’ll take my turn down there, if you like?”
Henry struggled to his feet. “Would I like? That’s like asking a thirsty man if he needs a drink. My legs are getting too old for this nonsense.” He passed Bernie the hammer. “What brings you to town?”
“Itching to come dancing on Saturday and knew folks were still finishing up the last of the decorations.”
“The women gave strict orders for all the pieces to be done today. They have ideas about trimming the hotel with the sweetheart theme and the management has given them the go-ahead. Seems to be a woman thing but if it gets them in the party mood, I’m all for it. Most fellas I know are just happy for an excuse to hold their gals tight while twirling them around the dance floor.” He grinned at Bernie. “You wanting to hold Janelle close, Mr. Drysdale?”
“I am, and not ashamed to admit it. Janelle is busy sewing her dress and I brought my only set of decent clothes to get washed so I don’t embarrass her.” He held up a cloth bag. “Do you know where I might find a woman willing to do wash for pay in town?”
Henry snatched the bag. “Livvy is the answer to your problem and she don’t want no pay. Tomorrow is washday anyway. She’ll have it ready for pickup Saturday morning, bright and early.”
“I have a favor to ask, Henry.” He leaned over and whispered into his friend’s ear. The man roared laughing. “Great idea! It’s yours. Pick it up when you come for your outfit. He was still chuckling as he threw the bag over his shoulder and waved. “Thanks