The ball room sparkled with snowy white linens and flowers, touched in silver and gold. Tall candelabra stood on each table surrounded by mounds of white flowers. There was no decorating theme but for the fragile dragonflies, reproduced in deep jewel colors of ruby, sapphire and emerald, that rested here and there upon the flowers.

The buffet was opulent and delicious, the jazz band was hot and swinging, and the wedding guests were thoughtful and lovely. Ginny was wearing a vintage flapper wedding dress, white-beaded, pin-tucked silk over slipper satin in palest pink. Elijah wore black, an elegant ageless tuxedo.

They ate sparingly, danced a little, and greeted each guest with delight. At eleven-thirty, they and others in the wedding party quietly slipped away to prepare for the ceremony.

The band slowly shifted the mood with a set of increasingly romantic melodies until midnight when the bandleader led them in “Auld Lang Syne.” As the cheering and kissing slowed, the sounds of a string quartet filled the air, and the ushers deftly moved the crowd through previously unnoticed double doors to the wedding chapel, brilliantly lit by candles alone, and festooned in Air Force blue.

The string quartet played until all the guests were seated. Ginny’s brother Cmdr. Gregg walked their mother down the aisle, and when she was in place, he took up a position left of center and turned to face the back. Soon it became apparent that he was Ginny’s sole attendant.

Elijah and his wingman—the Best Man— clad in Mess Dress, entered from the right. The minister, a V.I.P. from Amarillo, nodded to the musicians and single violinist took up the opening notes of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March.” The music swelled and the minister invited all to stand. The doors opened and there stood the Admiral, resplendent in Navy blue and gold braid, and Ginny.

So beautiful was Ginny, that a hush of awe swept across those who watched her. She stood regally, her hand on her father’s arm. Her red hair was drawn to the back of her head, and fell in an tumble of curls behind a tall Edwardian tiara, a golden cobweb of flowers, leaves, and darting dragonflies, misted with diamonds and seed pearls.

From just below her jawline, to her wrist bones and toes, she was gowned in a slim column of aged ivory lace, cut by a visionary for another bride in an era long past, but perfectly right for Ginny more than seventy-five years later. She wore Elijah’s great-grandmother’s pearls, and she carried a white bouquet of ginger, jasmine, and roses.

For the first time in her life, Ginny failed to see the whole scene. She saw only Elijah, heard only his voice. She managed to say her vows, in a voice so low that only Elijah and God could hear them. And then Eli was kissing her. On her forehead, her cheeks, softly—barely touching them—her lips.

Once again, the strings began to play the Mendelssohn, but used his opening notes as the bridge to The Air Force Song, arranged by the Admiral as a special surprise for his new son-in-law. Off we go, into the wild blue yonder, climbing high into the sun.

The string quartet continued to play while the wedding party slipped aside for photographs. When they returned, it was time for cake and champagne, dancing and singing. Finally, Eli sat at the piano and beckoned Ginny to sit beside him. The room fell quiet as he sang When I fall it love, it will be forever … and Ginny leaned her head onto his shoulder.

Soon it was time for them to go. Amid hugs and tears, shouts of laughter and a shower of rice, the newlyweds departed in a limousine that carried them way down on the west end of the island where a cozy honeymoon cottage and their new life waited.

Elijah was amazed and dismayed to discover that Ginny’s wedding dress featured sixty-three tiny covered buttons down the back. “Why are there so many buttons?” he asked.

“It is a mystery,” Ginny said, “but if you start at the top and undo them all, I’m sure you’ll discover the answer.”

At the north end of the split, a spring trickles out. The resulting creek forms a series of narrow, shallow pools, that break and drop, with little foot-high waterfalls. At the south end, the water quietly disappears back into the earth.

The treacherous sides of the canyon discouraged casual exploration, but for the willing, the unexpectedly beautiful canyon held another surprise: a badger, who defended his territory with extraordinary fierceness.

Indians, explorers, soldiers, and settlers, each in their age met the badger and his descendants. But the settlers stayed, mostly Polish immigrants, but some Scots, too. And when they surveyed and staked out the lines of their little community, they carefully circumscribed a large boundary for Badger Creek, to be a park someday they thought, at the northern-most end of town.

Each generation of Badger Creek boys, in a rite of passage, climbed and slid down the steep and rocky sides of the canyon, to pay homage to the badger and sit fully clothed in his creek. That was the proof. If you climbed out soaking wet, it meant you made it to the creek. As for meeting the badger—that was a matter of personal honesty.

But enough honest boys, admitted that they had not seen the badger or his sign in a long time. Some folks in the community wondered if after seventy years, maybe it was time to think about the park.

Franciszek Timoteusz Marcinkiewicz, who was three months shy of his sixteenth birthday, and casting about for an Eagle Scout project, asked if he and the troop could survey the canyon and creek, and create some working maps and drawings, to explore the possibilities of a park on Badger Creek. Since his father was an engineer for the state highway department and would oversee the project, permission was granted by all parties.

Zeezy, so named by his friends, though his mother called him Tim, asked to camp out on the rim for three nights to observe the canyon. “To see what?” his mother asked.

“I don’t know, but this is the way I want to begin.” And so he did.

“You surely may.”

So Lando sat, like he’d seen the men do, with his elbows on his knees, and held The Mesquite Country Shopper between his outstretched hands, and slowly turned the pages.

It didn’t have stories or funnies, just things for sale. Useful stuff like tractors and irrigation equipment. Bales of hay and firewood. Roasted and Salted Goobers, said one ad. Mr. Wilson’s Finest Valencia Peanuts. Lando wondered how much it would cost to send a 20 lb. bag of peanuts to his brother Leonardo, a soldier in Iraq. More than he had saved up, probably. He laughed out loud, picturing the image of Nardo sharing a big o’ sack of peanuts with his buddies.

In a small boxed advertisement, Lando’s eye fell on the word

Lando said, Oh Boy!” and jumped up. “Tell Captain Marcinkiewicz I gotta go. He can punish me double tomorrow. But I can’t wait.” He took off and was almost out of the school building when an ear-piercing whistle rent the air and stopped him in his tracks. Busted.

“Captain, I can’t wait. I gotta go. I’ll come see you first thing in the morning.”

“You will wait, Orlando Bara, and tell me what’s going on.

“Here,” Lando said, showing the Superintendent of Badger Creek ISD the ad in the paper. “I want that dog. It’s free, so I gotta move fast, Captain.”

“Son, that dog is twenty-five miles away in Griven. How are you going to get there?”

Lando stuck out both his thumbs, pointed up, and gave the Captain a raised-eyebrows look that said, “See!”

“Oh no—you are not hitch-hiking to Griven. Do you have any idea how dangerous that it?”

“Yes Sir, I do know. And begging your pardon Captain, you were an astronaut. You should understand why this chance means I have to take the risk.”

The Captain looked at Lando, then looked at his watch. “You go wait for me in my pickup. I need to find someone to take my bus route this afternoon. But I’ll drive you to Griven to see about the dog.

They rode for a few miles without speaking, then the Captain looked across at his young rider, and asked him why he’d been sent to the office, for the second time in a month.

“Pat Hicks said something wrong,” said Lando, “and I asked him to take it back.”

“What?”

“It don’t matter, but to me and him, Sir. You gotta believe me. I know since the teacher sent me to the office, you have to do something about it. I don’t mind.”

“Why do you want this dog so badly—that you’d risk even more trouble by ditching school?”

Lando stared straight ahead, and the late afternoon sun hit him from the side, lighting his head so that his white-blond hair glowed like a halo.

“My brother Nardo had a bird dog, but the dog was old, and died after Nardo went to Iraq. He’ll be home by February. That leaves me the rest of December and all of January to get this pup ready for when Nardo gets home, so we can hunt together again.

“Do you know how to train a bird dog?”

“Nardo says the dog wants to please the man. Says you train the dog to trust you, to use lots of love and firm discipline. That the dog does best when you make it mind.”

“Is that so?” asked the Captain.

“Yes, Sir,” said the boy, “Lots of love and a firm hand.

Soon they were in Griven, and found the house they were looking for. The owner of the dog was surprised to meet the Superintendent of Badger Creek ISD and his student Orlando Bara, but he knew of the Bara boy’s family and knew Captain Marcinkiewicz by reputation.

The dog, a sweet-tempered and lively lemon pointer, squirmed and wriggled and headed right to Lando.

“What’s her name Mister,” he asked.

“Topaz,” he said. “My wife named her Topaz because she has golden eyes.”

On the ride home, Topaz quickly settled down, and laid her head across Lando’s thigh. He stroked her back and head, and called her a good girl.

“We need to talk about what you did wrong, Lando. You can’t go around punching people you disagree with.”

“No Captain. Yes Sir, I mean.”

“So here’s what I want you to do. I want you to check out three books from the library on training dogs. If we don’t have the ones you need then you ask the librarian to get some through inter-library loan. I want you to write me a paper on training bird dogs. Not a book report, but a scholarly paper. At least two pages. You’re eleven now, that’s old enough to read the books, form an outline of ideas, and put it down on paper. I want it one month from today. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“And when your brother comes home, I’d appreciate an invitation to go hunting with you and him.

“Yes Sir. I think he’d like that.”

“Now you and Topaz wait for me here in the pickup, while I go talk to your parents.”

“Yes, Captain. I think that’s a good idea too.”

Then the Admiral hugged and kissed his wife, who looked tanned and rested and more beautiful than ever, with tears running down her cheeks. Never in his life had he missed her more than over the past six weeks.

They took Elijah to his parents house, where he surprised his mother who was busy baking pies for Thanksgiving. Soon all three women were crying.

“Do you suppose, Sir,” said Elijah to the Admiral, “that the entire holiday will be awash in tears? Do you go through this every time?”

“It is not usually this soggy, Cap. Madden,” said the Admiral, “but these are unusual times. However, I learned a long time ago to always carry a handkerchief, and it’s a good thing,” as he handed the hankie to his wife, while Ginny and Sandy shared a dish towel.

When things settled down that evening, and Ginny was dressed up, waiting for Elijah to arrive for their date, her father called to her, “Ginny? Have you thought about how you’re going to wear your hair at your wedding ceremony?”

“I haven’t decided on a veil or not, so no, I don’t know how I’ll wear my hair. Why?” said Ginny.

“This is for you,” he said, handing her a very old, small leather chest. She opened it, and there nestled inside the pale blue silk, was a diamond and pearl tiara.

“Dad! she gasped, “Where did you find such a thing, It’s beautiful. Mom—it’s covered in dragonflies. Was it made by fairies? I’ve never seen anything so delicate and beautiful.

Larry smiled and winked at his wife. “Here Ginny,” said her mother, “Let me put it on you so your Dad can see.”

“Oh this is perfect Dad. It must have cost a fortune—you shouldn’t have,” said Ginny.

“Ah. I am reliably informed by your mother that you saved me a small fortune when you bought your own wedding dress some years ago. But I didn’t start out looking for a tiara. I went into the shop to find these for your mother.” With that, he conjured another box and gave it to Georgina.

“Larry! Oh Larry, What beautiful rubies. Let me put them on.” So Georgina pulled the diamond studs out of her ears, and tried on the large deep red ruby drops, encircled with seed pearls and set into rich filigreed gold. “Ginny!” she shouted with a laugh, “let’s check the rest of his pockets.”

“No no. That’s all. But I promise to take you back to the jewelry store, Georgina. It’s like a candy shop for women. All vintage and estate jewelry, with a little vintage proprietor. His English was not so good, and my French is deplorable, but we managed. He’d only recently acquired the earrings and the tiara. If I’d waited a day, I’d probably have missed them.”

On the end of the counter stood two wine bottles, an empty waiting to be put into the recycling tub downstairs, and the other unopened. Georgina picked up the empty, gauging its heft, and quietly put it down. She picked up the full bottle, and stepped around the corner of the kitchen.

The man had his back to her. She took a long sliding step, and swung the bottle, aiming for a spot just above his right ear. He went down in a thud, and Georgina uttered something vulgar in French. Then the light came on, and Ginny stood in the doorway from the hall with a gun in her hand.

“Excellent work, Mom. Let’s hope he’s still breathing.” Ginny handed the gun to her mother, “But shoot him, if you need to.”

Ginny checked his breathing and pulse, and used the man’s own mini-Mag flashlight to examine his pupils. All good. She flipped him over on his face, and wasted an extraordinary amount of duct tape securing his hands and feet.

“You ok, Mom?” ask Ginny.

“Angry, very very angry, but ok, she said. “Now would you please take this cannon so I can call 911?”

When the sheriff’s deputies arrived, they found one simmering Georgina waiting on the deck, and one resolute Ginny aiming a Desert Eagle a mere six feet from the chest of one terrified burglar who had wet his pants.

“So I held a gun on him until the deputies arrived,” she said.

“What gun?” asked Eli.

“The first one I could reach, my Desert Eagle.”

“You own a Desert Eagle. Bummer. Whatever shall I get you for a wedding present?”

“Oh well,” she laughed, “you could get me a new shotgun. I don’t like the Eagle much—the thing’s ridiculous. The lawmen liked it though. But it was a mistake. After last night, I’ve decided to sell it.”

“Hold on there, Sparky—don’t be hasty. You said the first one you could reach. What else is in your private armory? Apparently you have an old shotgun?”

“Uh huh. A Springfield .410 that was my father’s when he was a youngster. All four of us learned to shoot with it, but since I was the last child I kept it. But I’d like something with a bit more knock-down, say a .20 gauge.”

“What else?”

“A Colt .38 Special. It’s the first one I bought and my favorite. And a Sig Sauer 9mm that Ace gave me.”

“Is that all?”

“Another .410—a sawed-off Mossberg.”

“Ginny! You have a sawed-off shotgun?”

“It’s an inch over legal! For killing snakes. The island’s thick with rattlesnakes, and I don’t like to miss.”

“No rifles?”

“I don’t eat venison, so I don’t need a rifle. I do like quail.”

“But you don’t like snakes,” he said with a laugh.

“Not at all, especially the two-legged ones.”

“So what was Mom packin’?” he asked.

“Ah—a lovely Llano Estacado Cabernet Sauvignon. I suppose she’ll want to buy stock in the company now. She can be awfully sentimental.”

“I have a little travel trailer. We could take it anywhere. It’s a shame we can’t pull it with the Dragonfly!” Ginny laughed. “If my parents weren’t staying in the beach house, we could just stay here.”

“Don’t you want to go somewhere exotic? Where you can wear a flimsy little excuse of a bathing suit, and add to your freckle collection?” he asked.

“Why don’t we just rent a little honeymoon cottage on my beach? All I care about is being with you. I don’t want to waste a minute on currency exchanges, passports, or luggage. And traveling over the holidays is always difficult. We can hide out for a week then surprise everybody.”

“It would give me chance to get acquainted with your father. Are you sure? I don’t want to cheat you out of a real honeymoon,” said Eli.

“Darling, we’re going to Alaska! We’ll take a honeymoon every time you’re free. It’s a beautiful state and I want to explore every part of it. I’m going to cost you a fortune in paint and paper.”

“Actually I was sorta hoping you’d make us a fortune with your paint and paper,” he laughed.

“Well I was saving this news for a wedding surprise,” said Ginny, “but when I told my book editor that I was getting married and moving to Alaska, she suggested that after I finish the book on Texas animals, that I do a book on animals in Alaska. Birds, bears, fish. Sea otters and seals. It won’t earn a fortune, but it will contribute nicely to the family exchequer.”

“Ginny! That’s wonderful news. We’ll get a house where you can have a studio.”

“I can paint anywhere. Temperamental I am not,” she said. “But I do look forward to playing house with you, Eli.”

“Oh, me too, Lamb Chop. Me too.”

“And crystal too,” said Ginny.

“Tell me again why I need to do this?”

“Because I’ve picked out everything else, including cookware and linens.”

“Towels! I could pick out towels. White!”

“Too late. Come on Eli. I trust you. Men always complain because the women pick out china that’s too dainty or something. So I’d like for you select the china and the crystal. If you choose what you truly like, then we’ll both be happy.

“Ginny, this is too important. I can’t make decisions like this.”

“Eli, just ask the sales clerk to give you a piece of Old Maryland engraved; that’s the silver pattern. Then walk around and look at china displays. Something will catch your eye. Look at the crystal. When you find a crystal pattern that you like, hold it against the china and silver. See how it looks. It is work, but eventually you will find a combination that is agreeable, and that you like. The ladies will help you; they’re excellent at this. If it pleases you, it will please me.”

“Ginny my love? Why didn’t you choose the china when you picked out the silver pattern?”

“Because I picked out the silver when I was eleven.”

“Huh?”

“I went with my mother to shop for a wedding present. While she was busy I looked at all the silver flatware, and decided that I wanted the Old Maryland engraved when I got married. I’ve bought a few pieces, used ones, through the years. Teaspoons, a sugar shell, cake knife. It ages beautifully.”

“Ginny, I wish we could do this together.”

“Me too, Eli.”

“You’re not going to believe this; I had a good time today. There was a lot to look at, but you were right—the ladies were terrific. Do you have any idea how many kinds of china patterns there are?”

“So you found something you liked?”

“My head is spinning. It took awhile, but I kept going back to this one. It’s an old pattern, not new. It’s black and white, and has birds all over it, with a band of platinum. The silver looked beautiful with it, and and so does the crystal. The china is Royal Crown Derby and the pattern is called Black Aves Platinum. It made me think of a shiny black grand piano, and the black and white keys. If you don’t like—”

“No Eli, this was the whole idea, for you to find something that you really liked. I know I’ll love it.”

“I hope so. Ace already bought the tea set and some Astros-red table linens to go with it. It popped on the red table cloth. But the ladies fixed up a place setting with the china, crystal, and flatware on a white damask tablecloth, with some fresh flowers … you know, to help us see it as a whole. Ginny, it was beautiful.”

“You took Ace with you? Captain Madden and Commander Gregg. Did you guys go in uniform? I bet the ladies were helpful. How many phone numbers did he get?” she laughed. “So you found some crystal that you liked?”

“Ginny, I hope you approve. I looked at a lot of Waterford, and it’s beautiful. Found my mother’s pattern. But there was just something about this William Yeoward Camilla that appealed to me. It’s not as heavy as the Waterford, but Camilla holds her own against the china and silver.”

“Elijah, you have done a good thing, and I thank you. That takes care of most of it. The Moms have done practically everything, but I still have to decide on my trousseau.

“I could do that for you. I have very strong opinions about women’s clothes, especially lingerie.”

“I bet you do. OK … you can buy anything you want. Size six. But Elijah?”

“Uh huh?”

“Leave my brother at home.”

“I agree,” said Georgina. “It’s perfect.”

Ginny had bought the dresses when she found them one day in a Houston resale shop. Both dresses had been hand-made by the legendary island dressmaker, Tibby Macdhui, and bore her iconic, embroidered dressmaker’s mark, a thistle. Not knowing when, if ever, she would wear one, Ginny had carefully folded them in tissure and stored them in her cedar chest.

“I’ll need a genuine corset to wear with this one, because I am really holding it in here. The woman who wore this dress had a tiny waist. And a veil I guess, although she may have worn only flowers in her hair.”

Ginny stood in a glamorous Hollywood-style dress that could have been designed for Jean Harlow. Made entirely of lace, and bias cut, the aged ivory dress had a high neck with a choker collar, and long tight sleeves. It fit close to the body, buttoned in the back, and ended in a softly gathered, six-foot train.

“You can wear these with it,” said Sandy, opening up a flat square box. “These rope pearls were my grandmother’s, and they haven’t been worn since she passed. I tried to wear them, but I’m too short and looked like a little girl playing dress-up. These are the matching diamond and pearl drops. I did wear the earrings occasionally, but even they are a little too long for me. I’ve been saving them all these years for Elijah’s bride.”

“Oh Sandy, I can’t take your grandmothers’ pearls.”

“Ginny, none of this is an accident. This dress was meant for you. This jewelry was meant for you. And Elijah … well. He says his heart stopped beating the moment he saw you. And it didn’t start beating again until he found out Ace was your brother. Was he ever relieved.”

The women laughed, and Ginny whispered, “No, no. Don’t make me laugh. I can’t exhale.”

“I have a present for you too, Sandy,” Ginny said, “and I think now is the right time to give it to you.”

“A present for me? What ever for?” she asked in surprise.

Ginny stepped briefly into another room and came back with a large framed painting. “I started this without knowing where I was going with it, but before I finished the sketch, I knew it would be yours.”

Ginny turned the painting around and handed it to Sandy. It was a toddler with dark glossy curls and sturdy little legs, running down a garden path, holding a toy airplane as high as he could reach. The view was from behind the child’s left shoulder, with his face turned just enough to the left that a deep dimple was visible in his fat rosy cheek. It could have been any child, but it was without doubt, Elijah.

“Ginny darling!” Ginny stepped to the side to look around a woman blocking her view. “Ginny!”

“Mom?” she asked, somewhat bewildered. “Mom!” The woman pulled off her sunglasses and Ginny was amazed to discover the mother she’d said goodbye to almost two years ago, was just a memory of the woman who stood before her now.

“Look at you! Your hair is blond; you’re so thin you look adolescent! What’s going on?” begged Ginny.

“We gained so much weight — all that butter, cream, and cheese,” said Georgina. “Your father hired a nutritionist for us. It’s wonderful, just to sit down and eat what she puts in front of us. I never think about it anymore. It’s just like being a man!” she laughed. “Your father has lost fifty pounds — he had to buy all new uniforms — and I lost over thirty. And she makes us exercise too! I wanted to bring her with me.”

“But your hair?” Ginny asked.

“Oh sweetheart. Here’s the awful truth — redheads do not gray well, I think. I never found a combination of red dye that looked right, so my hairdresser suggested that I try this blond with just a touch of red. Your Dad likes it.”

“Well I should think so. You look like a movie star! Mom, is this all your luggage? This can’t be right.”

“Oh, no. A military transport will arrive in a few days with more. But we don’t have to do a thing. A courier will bring it to us. Dad will close up the house and get here by Thanksgiving, then we’ll stay until February. He’s got so much leave saved up, he’ll never use it all. Winter in Galveston sounds heavenly, don’t you think, instead of Brussels.”

Ginny maneuvered them out of the airport grounds and soon they were zooming south. About twenty-five miles from the island, Georgina raised her head and sniffed. “Oh Ginny, I can smell the Gulf of Mexico!”

The beach and water were inky black, but the sky was clear and the stars were brilliant. Georgina stood for a long time on the dark deck, breathing in the warm heavy air. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the odors: salt water, fish, ginger, jasmine, and roses. It was like a balm, and an answer to prayer.

“I like your Elijah,” she said as an opener. “So start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

“Hello, this is Ginny.”

“Ginny! I was scrambling to reach the phone and then you were gone. I miss you so much. It must be very important, for you to call me,” said Eli.

“Eli. It’s wonderful to hear your voice. Yes, it is important. In two weeks I have an appointment to see a book publisher … in New York. I have a vacation day coming, so I’ll take Friday off, and fly up the Thursday night before. I thought maybe you could meet me for the weekend.”

*****

By Friday noon, Ginny had a book deal. By Friday night, she’d agreed to marry Eli. She’d barely finished her first cup of coffee on Saturday morning when Eli showed up, insisting that they go shopping for an engagement ring.

“We have plenty of time, Eli. I don’t need an engagement ring. I promise–I’ll marry you,” said Ginny. But Eli took her to Tiffany’s anyway. He wanted to buy her a lot of diamonds; she thought one would do. In the end, Ginny walked out wearing a heart-stopping, but classic diamond solitare. “You could have bought me another airplane for what this ring cost,” said Ginny, “but it’s beautiful. I love you. Thank you.”

“So when do you want to get married?” asked Eli.

“I’ll marry you today, if you’d like,” said Ginny.

Eli pulled Ginny to his chest and held her tight. “Oh Ginny, my little lamb.” Eli laughed. “Maybe we should wait until your parents and my parents can be there. I’d hate to start out married life with my mother-in-law mad at me!”

Right away they figured out that during the Christmas holiday was the best time to get married. “At the Hotel Galvez,” Ginny said. “That’s where my parents married, over forty years ago.”

“January 1st,” said Eli.

“Everyone will have a headache,” she laughed.

“No. We’ll begin the ceremony just after midnight. Let’s begin our new life and the new year together, with our family and friends. It will be the best New Year’s Eve party ever.”

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