#herboldiefh

Reverend Goopy makes small talk with the guests, hands folded neatly over his Bible while he quietly prepares for the ceremony ahead. Nearby, the Pleasant family gathers together in a cluster of muted conversation and nervous anticipation. Mary-Sue fusses endlessly with details no one else notices, while Daniel Pleasant attempts to appear calm despite looking vaguely overwhelmed by the reality that his two eldest girls will both soon be wives.  Lilith sits, Tank beside her, exchanging the occasional knowing look whenever Mary-Sue begins unnecessarily straightening Daniel's already-straight tie, while the Oldies chat with Ruth in the front pews.

And near the front of the Church, for perhaps the first time in his adult life, Jason Larson looks genuinely nervous. Beside him stands his sister, smiling supportively while quietly teasing him beneath her breath whenever he adjusts his collar for the fourth or fifth time. Then the church doors open, and Angela enters, winter light catching softly against her veil as every eye in the room turns toward her at once.

“Marriage,” Reverend Goopy begins, his voice carrying softly through the little church, “is not merely affection spoken aloud on pleasant days. It is work shared in hard winters. It is faith kept when tempers are short and cupboards are lean.”

“A good marriage is built much like a homestead,” he continues. “Board by board. Prayer by prayer. Day by day. And if tended with care, it becomes a shelter strong enough to weather any storm the Lord sees fit to send.” Angela glances toward Jason then, and he squeezes her hands gently in response.

The ceremony itself is simple but heartfelt. Vows are exchanged, and when the Reverend finally pronounces them husband and wife, the kiss that follows is met with warm applause echoing through the little church.

Afterward, everyone gathers at the Pleasant home, where celebration quickly overtakes the lingering chill of the day. Mary-Sue has prepared a beautiful roast fowl for the occasion, served alongside various vegetables from John’s farm (sent as an apology for the Burb’s inability to attend the ceremony due to preparation for the winter). The house hums with conversation and laughter as coats are shed and plates passed between family members.

Herb pulls out a bottle of wine he’d ordered just for the occasion, and Angela and Jason raise goblets from Mary-Sue and Daniel’s very own wedding that have remained in storage for years, awaiting just an occasion. The room quiets.

“To Angela,” Jason says, looking toward his new wife with unmistakable but still surprising affection. “I mean to spend the rest of my life proving I deserve to be your husband.” Angela beams as the room cheers, and the pair toast to the hope of a promising future.

On Saturday, Herb and Coral make their way to the post, where Herb strikes a friendly bargain with Trapper Cyd Roseland. The two men examine Roseland’s pelts; fox, hare, and a fine stretch of deer hide, and settle the trade with a handshake and a few remarks about the cold season creeping closer. Herb is satisfied, furs bundled under his arm and already eager to see Coral’s reaction.

Coral spends her own morning bartering near the wagons, trading with John Burb for fresh vegetables that still carry the smell of soil. Their exchange is brisk and friendly, full of talk about the girls and harvests and the upcoming winter. While Coral has her reservations about Daniel Pleasant, she is hard-pressed to find anything negative to say about his sister or her husband. 

That afternoon, they reopen the store briefly for the stragglers drifting back from the Trading Post. Business is light, giving them a rare moment together as Coral inspects the newly acquired furs before adding them to the shelves. She smooths a hand over the deer hide, admiring the quality, when Herb comes up beside her and rests his hand atop hers. “Thought you might want to keep that one.”  Coral looks to him smiling, and for a brief moment the ledger, the bell, and the open door are all forgotten.

By Christmas morning, however, the store downstairs is finally closed; one of the few days all year the Oldies allow themselves proper rest. In the apartment above the shop, Herb has brought in a modest fir tree that stands near the cast iron stove, and beside it, he pulls Coral into a hug. 

“Nice to have the place quiet for once,” Herb murmurs, and Coral smiles knowingly into his shoulder. 

“Just for today.”

Herb presents Coral with a small velvet-lined box containing a string of pearls he had specially ordered months earlier and carefully saved away for Christmas. The creamy beads gleam softly in the firelight, and Coral gasps quietly upon seeing them.

“Oh, Herb…”

Without hesitation she fastens the necklace immediately, fingertips lingering against the pearls at her throat while emotion brightens her expression. Herb looks entirely pleased with himself.

Herb's gift waits wrapped carefully beside the tree: a newly carved fiddle crafted by Stephen Tinker himself. The wood is polished smooth, the workmanship so fine that Herb almost looks afraid to touch it at first.

“Well now,” he mutters, then he tests the strings immediately, plunking out a few uncertain notes before grinning like a boy.

Coral prepares a cranberry roast beef for Christmas dinner using the last of the berry preserves left over from the pie she baked days earlier. The sweet sharp scent fills the apartment while Herb continues idly testing the fiddle between helping set the table.

She spends the morning restocking shelves and reorganizing dry goods while wind rattles the the frosted front windows. Jars are turned label-forward, bolts of cloth re-folded, and candy jars at the counter refilled; while there are far fewer children coming through the door this time of year, the holidays are approaching quickly and stockings certainly deserve filling. 

Near midday, the bell over the entrance jingles softly, and Mary-Sue hurries inside, cheeks pink from the winter air. Coral brightens immediately, ushering her in, “Before you freeze!” 

“I won’t stay long, I only came to invite you and father to Angela’s wedding.” At that, Coral presses a hand immediately to her chest. By the time Herb Oldie emerges from the back room, Mary-Sue is already explaining the ceremony details while Coral fusses happily over whether Angela has everything she needs for married life.

“Feels like just yesterday she was running around this store getting into mischief.”

“She still does,” Mary-Sue admits almost dryly.

That evening, after the store has closed and the lamps burn low, Coral prepares a berry pie in the kitchen using preserves that were carefully stored away before the first frost. The warm scent fills the upstairs apartment as Herb sits at the table cleaning his spectacles and listening to her chatter fondly about the wedding.

“I still remember Angela trying to carry flour sacks twice her size,” Coral says while rolling out crust dough. “Now she’s getting married.” Herb smiles softly.

“She’s grown into a fine young woman.” Coral nods in agreement, though emotion catches faintly in her expression. She pauses to serve them both a slice of pie before sighing. 

“I just hope she’s happy.”

Light filters through the front windows of the Oldie General Store, catching dust motes in its rays.  Coral moves steadily through the aisles, restocking shelves with practiced efficiency. Jars of preserves, bolts of fabric, and sacks of grain sit just so, and the store smells faintly of soap, coffee beans, and oiled wood. 

Herb stands behind the register, spectacles low on his nose as he tallies figures and greets customers. He exchanges pleasantries with nearly everyone who passes, keeping one ear on the bell above the door and the other on Coral’s muttered commentary about what’s running low and what will need ordering before the week is out. Together, they run the shop like the waltzes they’d danced back East in their youth, each step anticipated before it’s taken.

Coral and Herb Oldie are the backbone of Freedom Hollow: trusted, respected, and always ready with a smile, a story, and whatever supplies a soul might need to make it through another dusty day. They opened up the Freedom Hollow General Store shortly after arriving in town, a place where townsfolk come not only for flour and soap but also for advice, kindness, and a little harmless gossip. Coral and Herb have kept its shelves stocked and its doors open through storms, droughts, and the occasional bandit scare.

Coral is the heart and soul behind the store, known for her patience and her generous heart. Coral took Mary-Sue in before the family made the treacherous journey West, raising her as if she were her own daughter. She’s proud of what Mary-Sue’s accomplished, even if she privately frets about that wayward Sheriff son-in-law of hers. Coral has a soft voice but a firm will; when she speaks, folks listen.