Page 44 of Beyond Montana's Sky
The large space was even more crowded than when they’d held the Christmas Eve party—the weather, no doubt, making a difference—and smelled of flowers and mint and perfume and soap. They circled along the back wall to avoid Caleb catching sight of Maggie.
People stared and commented in admiration.
Edith looked around, noting all the details—the decorations, the seating, the staff discreetly ushering people to pews. Everything appeared perfect, the same as before she’d gone upstairs.
As her gaze skimmed over the crowd, she couldn’t help hoping to glimpse Cai. After he didn’t show at church on Sunday, she’d tried not to expect him today and did her best to—unsuccessfully—put him from her mind.
Blythe smoothly transitioned to “Jerusalem.”
Spotting them, hotel manager Peter Rockwell shifted a painted screen, placing it behind the flower-bedecked arch that crowned the beginning of the aisle. Maggie slipped out of sight behind the screen. Peter took her hand and bowed over it. “May you and Caleb be as happy as Blythe and I.”
Maggie laughed. “I hope we’ll be evenmorehappy, if that’s possible.”
Peter glanced toward the front of the “church” were his wife played the harp, a proud smile lighting up his face. “Not possible. So, you’d better settle for equal.”
Edith peeked from behind the screen. At the front of the “church,” Caleb stood with Ben, both in black tailcoats and white vests. They looked so handsome. Her chest swelled with pride, and tears threatened.
Even Caleb couldn’t coax the elder Reverend Norton into formal split-tails. He wore his regular frock coat, still stylish because Joshua purchased the garment for his father just a year ago, with the same rose boutonniere the other men wore, and his clerical cravat instead of a white tie. But the beaming smile on the minister’s austere face made what he wore irrelevant.
The male cellist, whom Edith hadn’t met, escorted Elizabeth Sanders, beautiful in royal blue, to the piano, and then he moved to his chair, arranged his instrument, and took a seat behind it.
Opera singer Sophia Maxwell, clad in a burgundy evening gown with enormous sleeves and a necklace of rubies or garnets—Edith couldn’t be sure at this distance—glided to the front of the room on the arm of her fiancé Kael Kelley, a former local logger. The Songbird of Chicago had only recently recovered her voice after a serious illness.
Edith heard her sing with Kael at his father’s funeral—a touching experience. Near the piano, he stopped and Sophia released his arm and moved forward a few steps to face the audience.
Caleb, wanting formal music for the beginning of the ceremony, chose the short piece, “Laudate Dominum” by Mozart.
Blythe drew “Jerusalem” to a close and lowered her hands. As the vibrations of the harp died away, and the congregation hushed, Elizabeth began the piano introduction, and Ben lit the candles on the altar.
Sophia opened her mouth to sing the first notes, low and warm for the beginning stanzas and then soaring, filling the room with glorious sound. She kept her arms at her sides, fitting to the religious nature of the song, with her body slightly swaying and making slow head movements.
Laudate Dominum omnes gentes
Laudate eum, omnes populi
Quoniam confirmata est
Super nos misericordia eius,
Et veritas Domini manet in aeternum.
Gloria Patri et Filio et Spiritui Sancto.
Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper.
Et in saecula saeculorum.
Amen
Because most of the people listening wouldn’t understand the Latin words, Sophia then repeated them in English.
Praise the Lord, all nations,
Praise Him, all people.
For He has bestowed
His mercy upon us,
