Free The Wedding Dress by Marian Wells Page A

“Well, how’s the Scripture memorization coming? I hear that you’ve even taken up talking in your sleep.”
    â€œShe mutters between bites of supper,” Andy said.
    â€œI know three hundred, I think.”
    The Samuels’ eldest howled, “We have to listen to you say three hundred?”
    â€œNot hardly,” Rebecca said ruefully. “I’ll probably make a mistake on the first one, then it’ll all be over, and you’ll have your ice cream.”
    â€œOh, mercy!” Ann exclaimed. “You’d better not do that! We aren’t starting the ice cream until seven o’clock. You’ll finish before we’re done churning.”

    The night of the fourteenth arrived with a touch of spring softness in the air. As Rebecca watched the steady stream of people moving toward the council house, she moaned, “Oh, the whole town’s coming. It’ll be a disaster, I know it will.”
    â€œIt’ll be a disaster if the whole thing takes until midnight and I go to sleep before I have my ice cream,” Andy muttered.
    When Rebecca entered the council house, she felt the excitement. David was waiting on the platform, and a whisper reached Rebecca. “They make a sweet couple.”
    â€œOh, oh, that’s it, Valentine’s Day,” she muttered. “David, we’re being put up to this.”
    While Bishop Taylor addressed the crowd, David whispered, “It’ll learn you to argue with my greater intelligence.” She wrinkled her nose at him.
    â€œNow, Rebecca and David.” Bishop Taylor turned to smile at them. Holding his big pocket watch high, he said, “The Scripture must be quoted correctly with the reference given. A two-second pause will be allowed. There will be three matches of ten minutes or one error. Miss Becky, you will begin.”
    Rebecca jumped to her feet. “‘Jesus wept,’ John 11:35.” The audience groaned.
    â€œâ€˜He must increase, but I must decrease,’ John 3:30,” David said. More groans. With Jack-in-the-box movements, they continued to call their verses. The audience stirred.
    â€œCome on, Rebecca.”
    â€œDavid, don’t let a girl show you up!”
    David got to his feet, and with a dramatic whisper he recited, “‘Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest….’”
    Now Rebecca was catching the spirit of her role, and as he finished she bounded to her feet and raised a compelling arm. Excitement was moving through the room again, and David was catching it too. The words bounced back and forth. Cheers rose first from the fellows and then from the girls.
    â€œDo it, do it, Rebecca—show him!”
    The bishop was right, Rebecca was thinking as she finished a verse and sat down. Even a cockfight would have served the purpose.
    She was hearing the words David was saying. He was talking about faith and God and love while the crowd cheered, not because of his words, but because his voice rang with challenge and authority.
    Now one match was completed, then two. Bishop Taylor raised his watch. “Time—it’s a tie.”
    â€œNo, it isn’t, she won!” cried a female voice from the rear of the room.
    â€œShe didn’t!” Confusion broke, but there were smiles and laughter.
    Rebecca sighed. “I guess we did what we were supposed to do—entertain.”

    On February 15 Cora’s baby was born. Mr. Wright stopped by the Samuels’ cabin. Looking at his beaming face, Rebecca heard him say, “It’s the most wonderful thing that’s happened to me. It’s like being given another chance.”
    Rebecca was still wondering about his strange words that afternoon as she readied herself to visit Cora. Ann handed her a jug of milk. “I hear things aren’t going too well over there.” She chewed at the corner of her lip. “I hate to poke in where I’m