North Road {HS}

33. Pierce

It was our wedding morning-full of sunshine and anticipation. Roy was sat on my lap and Hattie was wedged between Laidey and I- bouncing with an anticipation of the festivities ahead. I wasn't sure if any of us had picked up on anything that the reverend has said that morning knowing that soon he would be leading us in our wedding vows.

I was wearing new shoes. The first brand new shoes I'd ever had that weren't military issue. They were brown and shiny, clean leather, as good for church as for walking. They bode good things. Soon I would walk the love of my life down the aisle wearing them. I would carry my wife across the thresh hold of our tiny little home wearing them. I never knew how good a new pair of shoes could feel.

There was a rustle of commotion in the back as a man walked in. I glanced back to see what was going on right quick and noticed the poor fellow had only one arm before returning my attention to the beautiful woman next to me. Her dress was a pretty pink and I knew that she and Kitty had stayed up into the late hours of the night for days on end to finish it. It was a masterpiece. The sort of color every man loves but would never dare to admit. I watched as she whispered in Hattie's ear and smiled at the little girl feeling in that moment as if I could see the entire future surrounded just like this with our own children. She was glowing in a way that only a woman on her wedding day could. I was confident that I had never seen anything more beautiful as I watched her try to convince Hattie to turn around. She had maneuvered so that her arms were draped over the back of the wood pew as she watched something in the back of the church.

"Turn around," whispered Adelaide, but Hattie shook her head and that look that a person wears when they can't place where they know some one or something from was painted on her face.

The two girls began to struggle and Roy was awakened from his perch on my lap.

"Shh," I encouraged handing Roy to Adelaide before turning to Hattie to pull her onto my lap when I realized what she was looking at.

She was trying to place a face- that was for sure. A face her young mind knew was dear.

In the back pew sat a thin man with fiery red hair swept over tired eyes. He had never been one to demand much attention or make a grand entrance. But at this moment as he sat in the back of the church it couldn't be helped. Tears were in his eyes as stared into the eyes of his daughter.

The man who had begun it all, who led us home had finally arrived himself. Arthur Dawson was home.