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DESSERT FIRST
TIE THE KNOT
Book 4
Table of Contents
Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Further Reading: Kiss Me Quick

 Chapter 1
Sage
“Thanks officer. I appreciate all your help.”
“My pleasure ma’am. Be sure you replace that tire when you get
to the next town. It’s not meant for highway driving or long-term
wear.” He tips his hat and closes the driver’s side door. He taps the
window before turning back to his cruiser. “Lock up.”
I nod and mouth “thank you” as I hit the lock button. Thank
goodness he came along when he did. Just my luck a flat tire and no
cell service. At least the run-flat tire was still tucked away in the
back. Of course, we had to unload box after box of baked goods to
get to it. I’m one box short of goodies, but his help was well worth
it.
I turn on my blinker to steer back onto the road. The officer’s
blue and red lights swirl in the rearview. I watch him pull out and do
a U-turn then disappear into the dark night.
Next stop, my first bridal expo. I glance at the dashboard’s digital
clock.
Crap.
A late start this afternoon already had me running an hour
behind time. The flat tire, my lack of knowledge of how to change
one, and no cell service added another two hours to my tardiness.
Deep breath and release.
At least I’m not stranded with a creepy serial killer stopping to
offer me a hand. My body shivers just thinking of all the perilous
things that could happen on a dark, empty road. I’ve always been a
worrier. Raised that way, I guess. If there’s something to worry
about, my radar will find it. Not that it keeps me out of trouble. I’m a
magnet for anything that can go wrong.
“Not today,” I say aloud, determined nothing else could possibly
go awry. Though, I’m not as confident as I’d like.
Ding, ding, ding. A red light in the shape of a gas tank lights up
on the dash.
 “Seriously?”
I bang my hand on the steering wheel in disbelief. I hit the
button on the end of the turn signal lever and scroll through until
the display lights up with the number of miles before empty. Forty-
two miles. I breath a sigh of relief. It’ll be close, but I can make it.
A flood of relief washes over me when the hotel finally comes
within view. The parking lot is full, but the loading zone by the event
center is empty. I pull into the spot, throw the SUV in park, and grab
my show reservation information. It’s been a long day. I’m not
looking forward to the next few hours of set-up time, but a girl’s got
to do what a girl’s got to do.
I hop out of the vehicle and push the lock button. The last thing I
need is some petty criminal to break in and steal my goodies while
I’m inside checking in.
Worry much?
 Chapter 2
Zane
The moment she walks through the doorway I’m instantly
captivated. She flings the door open and hurries in with pulled back
messy hair and a dark smudge of car grease on her chin. Her eyes
widen as she takes in the room full of bridal paraphernalia. The
room is a sea of white with a strong aroma of peonies, roses, and
bridal cake. It’s a bit overwhelming and enough to make anyone
take a second glance.
“Can I help you, Miss?” Carl mans the check-in station. He
motions the woman toward the table then takes a sip of his darker
than dark coffee.
Most of the vendors set-up and left for the evening hours ago.
There’s not much time for anyone to set up this late. Carl’s shutting
the room down in forty-five minutes.
The woman looks tired and out of sorts. Her eyes dart between
mine and Carl as she approaches.
“Sorry I’m so late.” Her chocolate brown eyes peek out from
under feathery long eyelashes. Her perfect cupid’s bow lips move
quickly as she runs through an explanation. “It’s been a long day.
Late start. Flat tire in the middle of nowhere with no cell service.
Luckily, a kind police officer stopped to help.”
She glances over at me barely taking a breath and I grin.
“I made the last twenty miles rolling in on nothing but fumes. Is
there a place nearby to get gas? A new tire? Something to eat?”
She laughs nervously, but the fatigue in her voice and body
reveals the stress she’s under. Carl eyes her like he’s been caught in
a windstorm. She takes a deep breath and waits. She opens her
eyes wide staring at Carl and then darts them in a side glance at me
while pinching her lips together in a flat line.
“Uh, do you have a reservation, Miss?” Carl slowly places his
coffee cup on the table and leans forward in his chair.
 “Oh, yes. Yes, I do.” Her head bobs up and down and she smiles
brightly.
Carl eyes her expectantly, but she says nothing more. It’s a
slightly amusing scene to watch unfold. I cover my smile by taking a
sip of my own coffee.
“And a name? Do you have a name Miss?” Carl picks up his
reading glasses and appraises her.
“Oh.” She jumps this time realizing Carl hasn’t a clue who she is.
She rolls her eyes and lets out a small laugh. “Sage. Sage Hart. I
reserved a spot months ago. I know there’s a set up deadline, but so
many things happened today that I had no control over.”
Carl clears his throat, still dazed by her chatty nature. I could
listen to her prattle on about everything and nothing for hours on
end. Her voice lilts through me, tickling at my skin.
Carl runs his finger down the paper printout of vendors, flipping
pages back and forth. He shakes his head and looks back up at her.
“You’re not on the list Miss Hart. Are you sure you’re in the right
place?”
“What? Sure, I’m sure. I have a hotel reservation, too, with the
bridal expo reduced rate for vendors.” She twists her hands and
thrusts a printed piece of paper in front of Carl. The smile on her
face disappears under a worried, wrinkled brow. She taps on the
paper with a pointed index finger. “My reservation receipt is right
here.”
“What’s your business name?” I butt in. Amusing or not, she’s
had a rough day and Carl could make this a little easier on them
both. “The reservation is most likely under your business.”
“Dessert First. I’m a small bakery, catering company.” She
watches Carl’s finger draw down the piece of paper and then turn
the page. His finger stops and taps the page.
“Ah, right here. You’re booth number fifty-two.” He points
vaguely in the direction of her booth location without glancing up.
She breathes a sigh of relief and tilts her head in my direction.
Her soft brown eyes reflect the light and sparkle. She mouths “thank
you” to me and turns her attention back to Carl. He checks a few
boxes and slides a welcome packet across the table to her.
 “Kitchen closes in thirty minutes. If you have any baked goods to
store in the fridge you better get to it. Chef doesn’t like to stay late.”
Her shoulders sink and she looks defeated. But she takes in a
deep breath and bucks right back up, straightening her spine
through sheer will.
“Got it.” She fakes a salute to Carl and turns, hurrying to the
door.
I stare as she walks away, taking in the sway of her hips and the
tired bounce in her step. Her backside is just as mind-blowing as her
front. She’s intriguing all right, and I might be inclined to do
something about my interest, but I’ve got a lot on my plate already.
A woman isn’t in the cards right now, but the least I can do is offer
her a helping hand.
 Chapter 3
Sage
The big guy at the registration table has me flustered and unable
to think straight. Testosterone wafts off his body in hot, sensual
waves leaving me all hot and bothered. If someone lit a match right
now, I’d go up in flames. The stud muffin hot doctor on my must see
TV list hasn’t got anything on this man. He’s five alarm fire hot and I
wouldn’t mind getting a little burned. That’s far from likely. He
probably thinks I’m flighty with all my rambling.
I unfold the portable moving cart tucked inside the back hatch
and begin stacking box after box of petit fours, pink champagne
truffles, chocolate stout cake pops, and wedding cake bites. There’s
seemingly no end to the dessert boxes. Maybe I overdid it a little,
but the last thing I want is to run out of samples mid-day of the
show. That’s me. Worst case scenario gal.
I lock the vehicle back up and hurry back to the building,
attempting to maneuver the cart through the door while propping it
open with my round bottom. I’m half bent over the cart trying to
push it through the door with my boobs plastered against the top
boxes. I’m worrying about crushing the boxes when I get a light
whiff of coffee and testosterone laden cologne.
“Let me give you a hand with that.” His deep voice rumbles low
in his chest.
The gorgeous man saddles up at my hip and stretches a long
muscled arm behind my back to hold the door in place. I straighten,
half wishing he’d give me a hand with my boobs. My cheeks flush
hot and my pulse quickens.
“Oh, uh, thanks.” I try not to stammer, but his leg brushes
against my thigh and I’m more concerned about my legs turning to
jelly than being tongue-tied. His dark eyes crinkle at the outer
corners and I wish I knew every smile and laugh of his past that
etched them there.
 It isn’t polite to ogle, so one of us needs to stop right now. Wait.
Is he looking at me as intently as I am at him? That can’t be right.
I’m delirious, imagining things. It must be stress or lack of sleep. I
try to shake out of it when his beautiful, full lips twitch into a slow,
seductive smile. Yep. I’m glad I packed extra undies. There’s only so
much lust a girl can take.
As much as I’d love to stare into his dark, delicious eyes for an
eternity, I’ve got a job to do. I attempt to roll the cart through the
doorway while wiggling past him gracefully. It only takes a second to
realize what I need right now is willpower, not grace. I suck in my
stomach, straighten my spine, and lean forward, attempting to slide
past the front side of his jeans and chest without rubbing myself all
over him.
Like most things in my life, my plan backfires. My round butt
pokes out and brushes along the front of his pants and I swear he’s
packing more heat than the average Joe. He sucks in a sharp breath
through his teeth as I slide awkwardly between him and the cart full
of goodies. My heart slams against my chest and a sprinkling of
magic fairy dust tickles me from my fingertips to toes. Everything in
my body stands at attention.
And from the feel of it, part of him stands at attention too.
 Chapter 4
Zane
For the love of everything sinful and sexy. Every nerve ending in
my body just came to life. Having her bent over in front of me in
direct line with my groin is almost too much to take. I’d like to bend
her over the back of a sofa with both of us in nothing but our
birthday suits. I imagine my hands firmly wrapped around her
luscious hips while her breasts bob back and forth with my every
thrust.
I suck in another breath and try to dismiss the fantasy. If I don’t
get myself in check in the next few seconds, I’ll have to be wheeled
out on a cart just like the one she’s pushing. I sure as hell won’t be
able to walk with a rock hard rod in my pants.
“Thanks.” Her lashes feather over her milk chocolate eyes. Her
dumpling cheeks and plump bottom lip shimmer with a rosy glow. “I
didn’t catch your name earlier.”
“Zane Barrett.” I reach out a hand and she places hers in mind.
My hand envelops her soft, supple skin and an instant zing makes a
beeline to my thudding heart. I hold her hand in mine for far too
long and will myself to disconnect. “I’m finished for the night. I’m
happy to give you a hand. Sounds like you’ve had a rough day.”
“That’s really kind of you, but I couldn’t impose.”
She shakes her head no, but something in her weary eyes tell me
she’d like the help or company, either one. I try another tactic.
“I’m sure you’re a seasoned pro at this.” I rub my palm over my
trimmed beard. “But you’d be doing me a big favor if you let me
hang around.”
“How’s that?” Her flirty eyes sweep over my beard as she
watches my hand work the short bristles. Her lips curve into a
modest grin and she slips a glance lower before quickly snapping her
eyes back to mine. I know I’ve got her with that one small
diversionary glance.
 “It’s either hang out with you or be bored as hell hanging out in
the hotel bar with a bunch of strangers.”
“We’re strangers.” She smirks and takes another glance lower,
this time lingering a little longer. I spontaneously flex under her gaze
and she lets out a faint, girlish chuckle.
“Not if you let me stick around. I’ll do the heavy lifting while you
do all the pretty stuff.” I wink and purposely flex again which elicits a
hearty laugh now. Her face lights up and her eyes glitter. “We’ll be
friends before you know it.”
But now I’m hoping for way more than just friends.
 Chapter 5
Sage
Zane is melt-my-panties gorgeous and the heat rippling off his
body has my lady parts doing calisthenics. I’m quivering, shivering,
and flexing in all my delicious places. He could peel my clothes off
and have his way with me right here and now. At least that’s what
my body’s telling me. My head and heart are another story.
I’ve fallen for big, brawny men before. All buff and no brain. My
special hidden talent is falling for thick-headed fools who use me and
leave me. But not anymore. Zane may be sexy as heck, but I won’t
allow myself to be tempted by his rugged good looks...deep
rumbling voice...dark brown eyes...or the masculine bulge that has
me ready and willing.
Damn.
“Since you put it like that, I’ll take you up on your offer. There’s
no such thing as too many friends, right.” I emphasize the word
more as a reminder to myself than him.
“Let’s get this party started then.” He grins. “Kitchen is through
those double doors and to the left. You can’t miss it. I’ll get another
cart and load the rest of the boxes and meet you in the kitchen.”
He holds out a hand and I assume he’s expecting me to hand
over my keys. The worry part of my brain flips into gear. Do I trust
him with my keys, my car, my life? Everything I own is linked to my
keys. Everything’s fine, I gently remind myself. Don’t be ridiculous.
Zane’s certainly not a petty thief. My heart and body are the only
things at risk where he’s concerned.
I reach into my pocket, pull out my lifeline, and curl my fingers
around the metal that keeps my world locked and safe. I hesitate a
moment too long before offering them to him.
He grins and that deep rumbling chuckle of his lights my skin on
fire. Heat ripples through me, warming me like a swallow of straight
whiskey on a cold, snowy evening.
 “No sampling,” I tease, trying to cover my knee-jerk hesitation. I
loop my finger in the metal ring and dangle them from my finger.
“Trust me.” He takes my hand in his and leans closer, eyeing me
like a hawk hunting its prey. “The only dessert I’m interested in
tasting is right here, not in these boxes.”
His dark eyes smolder as he slips the keys off my finger. My heart
lurches in my chest, trying to claw its way closer to him. My fingers
shake and my body tingles as I steady myself on the cart handle.
“Meet you in the kitchen,” he calls over his shoulder.
I stare, speechless as he walks out the door.
How am I supposed to keep my wits about me with a man like
him strutting around?
 Chapter 6
Zane
What is it about her that has my pulse ticking like a time bomb
and my balls in a vise? Never in my life has a woman affected me
like Sage. She’s soft and pillowy with haunting eyes, wary and
watchful. It’s like her brain is in a constant state of puzzle solving.
It’s obvious I’ve thrown her off balance. But she’s has the same
effect on me.
I unload the remaining dessert boxes from her SUV and head
inside, passing Carl on my way to the kitchen.
“Locking up in ten minutes,” he deadpans while stuffing papers
into an accordion file.
“Can you spare a little more time, Carl?” I pause to plead my
case. “She’s had a rough day and could really use a break.”
He scoots out his chair and stands to stretch his legs. He eyes
me up and down. He’s a grumpy old man, but there’s got to be a
soft spot inside him somewhere.
“Tell you what. You have one hour, but I’m going home. I’ll let
the night manager know you’re still here. Let him know when you’re
finished, so he can lock up.” He mumbles something I can’t quite
make out, before raising a crooked finger at me. “No funny business.
I don’t want to find you and Miss Curvy Ass naked in a pile of
wedding dresses in the morning.”
I nearly choke on the sputter of laughter that rips from my
throat. Is it that obvious, even to all old geezer like Carl?
“Scout’s honor.”
I head to the kitchen and everything’s quiet. The lights are on
but no chef, no Sage. No way I could have missed her in passing.
And there’s no way she’d leave me without retrieving her keys. She
was way too apprehensive giving them up. Why so much worrying?
I park the cart beside the walk-in refrigerator and pull on the
lever to open it. As soon as the door releases, a shivering Sage
rushes out, stumbling into the warm kitchen.
 “Oh my God.” Her teeth chatter. “It’s freaking cold in there.”
I pull her trembling body into my chest and wrap my arms
around her. She snuggles her head into the crook of my neck. Her
breaths are short and quick leaving a trail of lingering warmth along
my neck. Her cold nose nuzzles closer and the chill from her fingers
splayed across my chest seeps through my shirt.
“I’ll have you warm in no time.” I rub my hands up and down her
back, hoping the friction and my body heat will warm her quickly.
God knows my body temperature went from normal to through the
roof as soon as she thrust herself into my arms. “Have you been
stuck in there the whole time?”
She bobs her head up and down and her hair tickles my neck.
“I blocked the door open with the cart, but it rolled forward when
I took the last box off. I wasn’t fast enough to catch the door.” Her
voice shakes, and an involuntary shudder overtakes her. “I tried the
emergency release lever, but it wouldn’t budge. I could have been
trapped. What if there hadn’t been enough air?”
My gut tightens. The thought of her trapped and afraid causes
my body to tense. Anger rises in my belly. I’ll definitely have a word
with the chef about this.
“I’ve got you. Everything’s okay now.” I hold her a little tighter,
trying not to crush her in my grasp. “I won’t let anything happen to
you, Sage. You’re safe with me.”
Her body softens into mine and she leans in, pressing her hips to
mine. My heart ticks off an extra beat and beads of sweat form at
the base of my neck. Her hand slides up my chest and curls around
the side of my neck. She lifts her head and drinks me in with her
wide, liquid eyes.
“Promise?”
The need in her trembling voice nearly causes my knees to
buckle. Protecting her, saving her from worry is my life’s calling from
this point in time to eternity.
“I’ll stake my life on it.”
Her eyes drift from mine as she watches the words form on my
lips. Her eyes flutter as she gazes back up into my eyes. Slowly as if
time stands still, she presses up on her toes and laces her fingers
through my hair. I lean into her, our lips so close we share each
other’s breath. An electromagnetic charge surges through me and
it’s all I can do to resist the urge to devour her with a single feverish
kiss.
Our lips barely brush against one another and I know instantly
this is the last first kiss I’ll ever share with another woman.
 Chapter 7
Sage
His lips are soft and warm, plump and firm against mine. My
brain no longer talks for my heart and body. I melt into him, soaking
in his strength and tenderness. Willing myself to drink in what he
offers without thought to consequence or fear. Today I need
something good in my life, something big and strong to take away
all the worry and stress.
A loud clang rings out and we both startle in surprise. We’re so
wrapped up in each other I almost forgot where we’re standing.
“What’s going on in here?”
Zane whips around and protectively secures me to his back with
his massive arm. I peek over his shoulder to see what all the
commotion is. A man in a white button down chef’s jacket stands in
the doorway with his arms crossed. He doesn’t look happy with two
strangers his kitchen.
“Storing baked goods for the expo, chef.” Zane’s jaw tightens.
“You should have a look at the walk-in emergency release. The lady
here nearly froze to death trapped inside.”
He’s being a little overdramatic, but I hide my smirk behind his
shoulder. His words are like a great big hug around my heart. No
one looks out for me anymore. It’s refreshing to hear a man like
Zane express concern for someone other than himself. It hasn’t been
my experience with men in the past.
“She should have waited before storing things in my kitchen.”
Chef’s voice is gruff, unforgiving. He doesn’t budge an inch to
shoulder any blame for the door. He shifts on his feet and cranes his
neck to get a look at me. Zane isn’t having any of his blame shifting.
“You know well enough this is a code violation and has nothing
to do with the lady here.” He hugs me tighter to his back and I mold
myself to him, savoring his muscular terrain. This might be my one
and only chance to enjoy being this close to him. I might as well
soak it all in while I can. “I’m reporting this to the hotel manager if
something’s not done about it by morning. You have more people
than the lady and I back and forth in here with the expo.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed. I’ll have
maintenance look at it tonight.” Chef lets out a long sigh like the
wind’s been knocked out of his sails. “Kitchen’s closed. Finish with
those boxes so I can lock up. I’ll be back in five.”
I hear the swinging doors swish back and forth. Zane doesn’t
turn around until we have the kitchen to ourselves again. I smile up
at him, a little shy and sheepish. All good things must come to an
end.
“I’d like to do that again.” He tucks a finger under my chin and
brushes his thumb along my cheek. “But we better get these boxes
unloaded. You hold the door.”
He places a kiss on the tip of my nose, and I go all fangirl giddy
on the inside. All rational thinking has slipped freely from my body.
I’m running on nothing but hormones and lust at this point.
I watch as he carries the last of the boxes into the fridge. Chills
slither up my spine as he wheels his cart out of my brief, but scary
prison.
“Hop on.” He smiles playfully, encouraging me to step onto the
cart. “I’ll take you for a ride.”
“There’s no way that will hold me. I’m sure there’s a weight
limit.” I laugh nervously. I’m a big-boned girl with curves in all the
right and sometimes questionable places. It’s not something I care
to point out to someone as attractive as Zane, but reality is reality.
It’s not like he can’t see me with his own eyes.
He rests his arms across the cart’s handle and leans in with a
disapproving look on his face. His brows furl in mock criticism.
“Didn’t I tell you you’re safe with me?” He eyeballs me from head
to toe with a slow, scorching gaze. “One way or another I’m taking
you and your delicious curves for a ride. Are you going to go easy or
play hard to get?”
My entire body flushes with white hot lusty heat imagining a ride
other than the one he’s offering on the moving cart. A ride with him
buried balls deep inside me, his wide hands cupping my breasts
while his lips and tongue work their magic at my breasts. I squeeze
my thighs together and squirm at the thought.
“Kitchen’s closing, but the playground’s open all night.” Zane
leans in closer. “What’ll it be?”
I roll my lips and bite down, attempting to tame my inner beast
and gain some composure. It’s all I can do to climb onto the cart
instead of crawl up Zane’s massive body. He tilts me back and I lean
into his chest.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers at my ear.
And damn, it feels good to be someone’s girl even if it is for a
fleeting moment.
 Chapter 8
Zane
I’d like nothing more than to wheel Sage straight through the
hotel lobby, onto the elevator, and up to my room, but it’ll wait for
now. She has work to do and I’d rather help than be a distraction.
So, I zoom her down the hall to the ballroom with her squealing like
a little girl all the way. Her laughter coils around my heart, spine,
and lungs, teasing the playful side of me into the wide open.
How long has it been since I’ve let down my guard with a
woman? One, two, five years? Looking after my sister Hope, making
sure she has what she needs has been my number one priority since
her divorce. It was ugly and there was a time there I didn’t think she
was going to pull through. But with a little emotional and financial
support, she’s finally getting her catering business off the ground.
There are still a few glitches here and there. It’s why I’m here
instead of Hope.
Sage lets out another peal of laughter as I come to a not so
screeching, but abrupt halt at the loading zone doors. I wrap an arm
around her mid-section so she doesn’t stumble as I tip the cart
upright. She practically bounces off the cart. Her step is light and
airy. When she turns to face me, I’m blown away by the way she
glows.
“That was amazing. I haven’t had that much fun in, well, I can’t
remember.” She’s beaming ear to ear, her eyes light up like a child
after their first rollercoaster ride. She literally takes my breath away.
If something so small and simple can bring her this much joy and
happiness, I’m all in for the long haul.
There’s a big if in that, though. Sage might not be on board with
that.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
It’s only then I realize how intently I’m staring at her. Her smile
morphs into a lopsided grin and she tilts her chin to the side as she
considers me.
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it became evident that the end was not far away, and she was
permitted to see him; and he seemed so comforted by her presence,
though he was too weak to talk much, that they allowed her to stay.
In response to a telegram, his brother Robert and Madge, his wife,
came at once. Saturday afternoon his mind wandered, and seemed
to run on the affairs of the college. Sunday morning he asked Robert
to pray with him; and in connection with this one of the great
passions that had long possessed him manifested itself. As on the
journey down on the boat he lay exhausted, he had said to Dr.
Goodrich: “They must do their best to cure me at the hospital, so that
I can finish the Psalms. That is all I have to live for now”—meaning,
of course, by this, only the work to which he had given himself. Now,
when his brother in his prayer asked that the sufferer at whose
bedside he knelt might be given an abundant entrance into the
heavenly rest, Dr. Mateer cried out: “Raise your faith a notch higher,
Robert. Pray that I may be spared to finish the translation of the
Psalms.” Then he asked that Dr. Hayes be called in, and he
requested him to pray for this; and when this was done he added, “O
Lord, may this prayer be answered!”
On Sabbath when some of his “boys,” alumni of the Shantung
College, who were living in the town came to see him, he was so
weak that he could only say to them, “Good-by.”
All those last days he took great comfort in prayer. As he gradually
went down into the shadow of death, his faith continued firm and
bright. To an inquiry by his wife as to his trust in Christ, he replied:
“Yes, I have nothing to fear.” Some time before the end he said to his
brother Robert, “I have laid up all in my Father’s keeping.” The very
last words which he was heard distinctly to articulate were indicative
of a passion that possessed his soul even far more strongly than his
desire to complete his work on the Scriptures. Those who knew him
most intimately recognized in him a man of extraordinary reverence
for God,—for him whom, from his childhood’s memorizing of the
catechism on to the end, he believed to be infinite, eternal, and
unchangeable in his being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice,
goodness, and truth. He was one of those who in the public services
of a house of worship always stood in prayer, though about him all
might be sitting in their seats. He thought no other posture except
kneeling or standing appropriate in this act of social worship. His
whole conception of religion, theoretical and practical, was saturated
with a holy fear of God. To him God was his heavenly Father, who
has manifested himself above all else in the person and work of
Jesus Christ, and unto whom he constantly turned with holy
boldness; but whenever he came consciously into the divine
presence he was devoutly reverent. It was in keeping with his whole
religious life, therefore, that his last audible words, were “Holy! Holy!
True and Mighty!” Then—not long afterward—he fell asleep. He died
at 10:25 in the morning of September 28, 1908.
Among his papers a little book was found which when it was
opened proved to be a collection of private prayers recorded in 1863,
the year in which he went to China. The last of these prayers is the
following:

Permit not the great adversary to harass my soul, in the last

struggle, but make me a conqueror, and more than a
conqueror in this fearful conflict. I humbly ask that my reason
may be continued to the last, and if it be Thy will, that I may
be so comforted and supported that I may leave testimony in
favor of the reality of religion, and thy faithfulness in fulfilling
thy gracious promises, and that others of thy servants who
may follow after, may be encouraged by my example to
commit themselves boldly to the guidance and keeping of the
Shepherd of Israel. And when my spirit leaves this clay
tenement, Lord Jesus receive it. Send some of the blessed
angels to conduct my inexperienced soul to the mansion
which thy love has prepared. And oh, let me be so situated,
though in the lowest rank, that I may behold thy glory!

This prayer, which in his young manhood he had recorded in that

little book, was fulfilled so far as its petitions concerned his end upon
earth; and who doubts that equally fulfilled were also those petitions
which looked forward to his entrance upon the eternal life?
 At Tsingtao a funeral service was held in the little Chinese
Presbyterian chapel. Among those present were Rev. Dr. Bergen
and Rev. W. P. Chalfant, from the Shantung Presbyterian Mission,
then holding a meeting at Wei Hsien, representatives from the Basel
and Berlin Protestant Missions, and a large number of Chinese. After
the casket was placed in the church, former students of the
Shantung College came in with long wreaths of immortelles, and so
festooned these about the coffin that they could remain on the
journey yet to be taken. Addresses were delivered in both English
and Chinese, and were full of appreciation for the missionary just
gone up higher. The Chinese speakers were some of his own “boys,”
who then testified to their appreciation of their “old master,” as they
were accustomed to call him. After the service the casket was taken
to the same steamer on which he had been brought down, and thus
was removed to Chefoo, in care of his brother Robert and Mr. Mason
Wells. That evening the casket was escorted by a number of
Chinese Christian young men to the rooms of the Naval Young
Men’s Christian Association; and the next morning to Nevius Hall, on
Temple Hill, where it remained until the time of burial, covered with
flowers provided by loving hands.
During this delay the missionaries up at Tengchow had, in
response to a telegram, exhumed the remains of Julia, and caused
them to be transferred to Chefoo, where they were placed in the
vault prepared in the cemetery. Her monument, however, was left
standing in the original burial place, and the name of Dr. Mateer has
also been inscribed on it.
The funeral service was at 2.45 p.m., on Sabbath; and the large,
new church on Temple Hill was filled to overflowing. The conduct of
this service was in the hands of the Chinese, Pastor Wang of the
Temple Hill church presiding, and Pastor Lwan of the Tengchow
church assisting. In a sermon based on Revelation 14:13, Pastor
Wang spoke of Dr. Mateer’s long and active life, of his power as a
preacher who addressed himself straight to the hearts of the people,
and of the enduring character of the work he had accomplished. Rev.
Lwan followed in an address in which he dwelt upon the large
number of people who would mourn the death of Dr. Mateer, and the
many different places where memorial services would be held; on his
adaptability to all classes of men in order to win them to Christ, and
on his unfailing assurance that the gospel would finally triumph in
China.
The English service followed immediately afterward in the
cemetery; but on account of the large number of foreign missionaries
who had come, and the limited space, announcement had to be
made before leaving the church that of the many Chinese who were
present, only those who had been Dr. Mateer’s students could be
admitted. One of the great regrets incident to the burial was that Dr.
Corbett, who had come out to China with him on that long first
voyage, and who had been his close associate on the field in so
much of the work, and who cherished for him the warmest regard,
could not be present. He was away in a country field when death
came to Dr. Mateer, and the news did not reach him in time for him
to return to the funeral. In his absence Rev. Dr. W. O. Elterich, of
Chefoo, conducted the service. After he had spoken, Rev. J. P. Irwin,
of Tengchow,—who had been associated with Dr. Mateer in the
same station, and who as a consequence knew him intimately,—
bore his testimony especially to the unceasing activity of the life of
him whose body was about to be lowered into the grave, and the
impossibility that his work should have been finished even if he had
lived to be a hundred years old; to the warm heart hidden beneath
an exterior that did not always reveal it; and to the purpose now
fulfilled, but formed nearly half a century before by him and by her
whose remains now rest at his side, to spend their whole lives in
giving the gospel to China, and to be buried in its soil.
Their graves are in a very beautiful spot, directly in front of the
upper walk leading in from the gate, and in close proximity to those
of Dr. Nevius and of others of their missionary friends and
associates.
 AT THE GRAVE OF DR MATEER

The tributes paid to his character and work were so numerous,

both out in China and in the United States and in other Christian
lands, that all that is practicable here is to make some selections that
may serve as representatives. That of Dr. Corbett deserves the place
of precedence. Their strong attachment was mutual. In an article
filling several columns of “The Presbyterian Banner,” Dr. Corbett paid
his tribute to his deceased friend. Much of this is of necessity a
condensed rehearsal of his life and of the leading characteristics
therein revealed. He concludes by saying:

Personally I shall ever esteem it one of the greatest

blessings of my life that it has been my privilege to have
enjoyed the friendship, and of being a colaborer with this
great man for nearly fifty years. More than forty years ago it
was my privilege to spend with him weeks and months on
long itinerating journeys, preaching daily to hundreds who had
never heard the gospel, and at no place finding Christians to
cheer our hearts. Often after a long day of exhaustion,
preaching in the open air at great markets and on crowded
 streets, in the evening we would kneel together at the inn and
earnestly pray for God’s richest blessing upon our efforts to
bring men to a saving knowledge of the truth. Often the
thought came into our mind, Can these dry bones live? Shall
we live to see Christian churches established and shepherded
by Chinese pastors? His unwavering faith in the ultimate and
universal triumph of the gospel in China was a tower of
strength to all associated with him. When the news of his
death reached me at our inland station, the thought rushed
into my mind: “Know ye not that there is a prince and a great
man fallen this day in Israel?”
The world will ever seem more lonely without him. His
sympathy and help could always be counted on in every kind
of true missionary work. His labors were crowned with
success and honor continuously, until he was summoned by
the Master to a higher and wider sphere where his saints
serve him.

It seems to me that the man who is entitled to be heard next is the

Rev. Dr. W. M. Hayes, now of Tsingchow fu, but formerly—after the
resignation of Dr. Mateer—the head of the Tengchow College. There
is no one of his associates on the mission field in whom Dr. Mateer
had greater confidence; and for years they were in such constant
contact that they knew each other most thoroughly. A few days after
the burial a memorial service was held at Wei Hsien, and at this Dr.
Hayes made an extended address before an audience including the
students of the college. The respective lines of thought which he first
elaborated were his faithfulness to Christ’s service, his resolution, his
attention to great matters, and his industry. In the conclusion he said:

Let us strive to make his strong spiritual qualities our own.

Of these, the most conspicuous were three: First, his faith.
The morning he died, replying to an inquiry of his brother, he
said, “I have left those things long ago in the hands of my
Father.” Later, and only a few hours before his death, he said,
as if speaking to himself, “We are justified of the Lord Jesus.”
 It is not strange that with such a faith he fell asleep as a little
child would in its mother’s arms. Second, his reverential spirit.
Though he did not fear the face of man, and was outspoken in
his convictions, yet, especially in his later years, as one who
had served with him on the Translation Committee from the
first remarked, his reverence in approaching the divine
presence was apparent to all. This was characteristic of him
to the end. The last distinct utterance which he made was,
“Holy! Holy! Holy! True and Mighty.” Lying prone on his couch,
it seemed as if he saw the King in his beauty, and the vision
filled his soul with godly fear. Third, his forgiving spirit. Being a
man of decided views, and disapproving of what did not seem
to him wise and good, he did not always approve of the
course taken by his colleagues; yet if convinced that a man
was working with a single heart for the interest of Christ’s
kingdom, he was ready to forgive, and to hope for the best.
He loved the Lord who had forgiven him, and so loved those
who had offended against himself. This extended both to
those with whom he labored, and to those for whom he
labored. One of his marked characteristics was not to give
over any man who had fallen away, and he was always ready
to give him another chance.

I have already noticed the intimacy of Dr. Chauncey Goodrich, of

Peking, with Dr. Mateer. The tribute which he paid his long-time
friend, and his associate and captain on the Mandarin Revision
Committee through the many years of their labors, is perhaps the
most comprehensive of all that have been published. It filled fourteen
pages of “The Chinese Recorder,” and touches all the leading
features of the life and work of Dr. Mateer. What he says as to the
Mandarin version has especial weight. His testimony was:

In the interest of truth it must be added that no man gave so

much time and hard work, or dug quite so deep. His effort to
produce a translation which should match the original, to
translate the figures and preserve their beauty, was
 extraordinary.... At these sessions Dr. Mateer by his strong
and masterful personality, as well as by the thoroughness of
his preparation, did much to set the style of the work.

Turning to some of his leading characteristics, he proceeded thus:

First, his personality. In the Conference of 1890, Dr. Wright,

secretary of the British and Foreign Bible Society, was with
us. He remarked that “of all the men present at that
conference, there were two whose personality most
impressed him.” One of these was Dr. Mateer. He bore
himself like a sort of prince among men, facile princeps. He
was born to lead, not to follow. Having worked out his own
conclusions, he was so sure of them that he expected, almost
demanded, their acceptance by others. Yet he was not
arrogant and was truly humble. Moreover, he could ask
forgiveness for words that he felt had been too hasty or too
harsh, feeling much broken by giving pain to a friend. In this
he showed his greatness. He could also forgive and forget.
But he was still a leader by the very force of his personality.
He had the quality of perseverance in a large degree.
Having undertaken a work, he held to it with unwavering and
unconquerable persistence to the end, ... and that not only
because he gripped the work, but because the work gripped
him. Had his life been spared, he would have worked steadily
on through the Old Testament till the last verse of Malachi
was finished, and the whole was carefully reviewed. Of Dr.
Mateer’s habit of working till the end was reached Dr.
Hamilton writes: “Not many months ago, at a meeting of the
Shantung Board of Directors, we had a considerable amount
of unfinished business, and the week was hastening to its
close. No one had more work awaiting him at home than the
Doctor. Yet when the question of the time of our dispersion
was raised, he said: ‘I have always made it a rule, when I
attend meetings of this kind, to finish up the business in hand,
no matter how long it takes.’” United to this quality of
 perseverance was a kindred quality of thoroughness, that
appeared in everything he attempted.
Dr. Mateer possessed a rugged strength of character. He
was almost Spartan in his ability to endure hardships, and in
his careless scorn for the amenities and “elegant superfluities”
of modern life. Yet “beneath a rugged and somewhat austere
exterior” he had a heart of remarkable tenderness. He was a
block of granite with the heart of a woman.

Rev. Mr. Baller also had been associated with Dr. Mateer in the
revision of the Scriptures since 1900. He says of him:

He has left behind him an example of strenuous toil that it

would be difficult to parallel; of iron constitution, he was able
to do an amount of work that would have killed most men. His
devotion to the cause of Christ was beyond praise. His
recreation consisted in change of occupation, and he made all
tend to the one end.

Ada, who in the last eight years of his life stood nearer to him by
far than any other, and knew his innermost life, puts on record this
supplement as to some of his traits not so fully brought out by the
testimony of his friends:

Next to his reverence, the most noteworthy feature of his

character was his love of truth: truth in the abstract, scientific
truth and truth in the common conversation of life, but
especially in matters of religion. He had no patience with the
popular maxim that it does not matter what a man believes,
so long as he is sincere. “Is there no such thing as truth?” he
would say. “Does it make no difference to a man whether the
bank in which he invests is broken? Men are not such idiots in
the ordinary affairs of life.” If it came to a choice between a
polite lie and the impolite truth, he would choose the latter. He
exalted truth above every other virtue. His love of it freed him
 from that trammeling of conventionality which binds so many.
He would be the slave of no man-made custom.
Associated with this characteristic, perhaps a result of it,
was the kindred love of freedom. One of his favorite texts
was, “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make
you free.” This sturdy independence he sought to impress on
all minds coming under his influence. He had no patience with
that kind of education that simply trained the Chinese to
become “lackeys of the foreigners.” How his lips would curl as
he muttered that phrase! He would waste money often in
trying to help some one to assertive, manly work in
independent lines, rather than as an employee. This sturdy
force in his character was like the magnetic crane, which lifts
pieces of iron, even though they have been hidden in the
ground. It compelled the manhood in other men to assert
itself; though hidden from view, yet to burst from its covering,
and to be drawn up higher.

As already noted, the West Shantung Mission was in session at

Wei Hsien when the tidings of Dr. Mateer’s death came; and before
they adjourned they adopted a highly appreciative minute concerning
him. In it they said, among other equally strong tributes to his worth:

No one ever went to him in trouble without finding sympathy

and help. Frugal in his style of living, he gave generously of
his personal means to many a needy man; and he made
many considerable gifts to the college and to other
departments of the work he so much loved. His name will long
be a fragrant memory in our midst, and the Chinese will more
and more, in the years to come, rise up and call him blessed.

The English Baptist Mission at their first meeting after his death
adopted resolutions expressive of their deep sense of loss. One of
these will serve as an example of all:
 Combined with great strength of will and an enthusiasm
which overcame all difficulties and opposition which stood in
the way of the accomplishment of the great and arduous
tasks, he was endowed with much tenderness of heart and a
devoted loyalty to the gospel. He was a successful educator,
a fine administrator, a powerful preacher, and a distinguished
scholar; and his removal from amongst us has left a gap
which will not soon or easily be filled.

The Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, under whom he had

served for forty-five years, adopted an extended and highly
appreciative paper. In one of the paragraphs, they say:

Dr. Mateer was a man of unusual ability and force of

character; an educator, a scholar, and an executive of high
capacity.... The Board records, with profound gratitude to
God, its sense of the large usefulness of this great missionary
educator. It mourns that the work is no longer to have the
benefit of his counsel, but it believes that he builded so wisely
and so well that the results of his labors will long endure, and
that his name will always have a prominent place in the
history of missionary work in the Chinese Empire.

Secretary Brown, of that Board, in a letter to Rev. Robert Mateer,

of Wei Hsien, said: “I regarded him as one of the great missionaries
not only of China, but of the world.”
Scores upon scores of personal letters, and a large number of
articles published in newspapers and periodicals, are available as
tributes to his work and character. Necessarily, they repeat what is
said in the quotations already given, though almost every one makes
some valuable addition. Few of them were meant for publication, and
it is not because of a lack of appreciation that any of them are
omitted here.
Shall his biographer add his own estimate of the work and
character of Dr. Mateer? If the writing of this book has been at all
what it ought to be, this cannot be still needed; for, if he has revealed
the inner and the outer life of this great Christian missionary as it
deserves, and as he has aimed to do, then to turn back now and
rehearse his characteristics would be a superfluity. Besides, if I
begin, where shall I end? I must tell of his personality; his
individuality; of his physique and of his psychical nature; of his
peculiarities of intellect,—its vigor, versatility and vision; of his great
heart, and the tenderness of it that was not always externally
manifest enough to command recognition; of his will that yielded
never to numbers or force, but only to truth and duty; of a conscience
whose voice would have made him defy anything that man could do
to him; of a piety that rooted itself in the sovereignty and in the grace
of Almighty God, and in the redemption which Christ finished on the
cross; of a consecration that laid himself and all that he could bring
upon the altar of divine service; of the preacher, the teacher, the
scholar, the man of science, the man of business, and of the son, the
husband, the brother, the fellow-disciple and associate in Christian
service; of his economy of time and of money, and of his generosity;
of his conservatism and his progressiveness; of his singleness of
purpose, his courage, his persistence, his efficiency; of his
weaknesses as well as of his strength; of his many successes and
his few failures; and of how much more I cannot enumerate. I would
be justified in comparing him with the very foremost of the servants
of Christ, living or dead, who during the past century have
consecrated their lives to the evangelization of China; or with
Verbeck of Japan, or Duff of India. However, I will here venture
further, only to invite as many as may to look well into the story of his
life; and I am confident that they will join with me in saying: “This was
a Christian; this was as distinctively a missionary, and as efficient as
anyone of our age; and at the same time this was as manly a man as
our generation has seen.”
In the “Pilgrim’s Progress” we read: “After this it was noised
abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken with a summons by the
same post as the other; and had this for a token that the summons
was true, ‘That his pitcher was broken at the fountain.’ When he
understood it he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then, said
he, I am going to my Father’s; and though with great difficulty I am
got thither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I had been at
to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that succeeds me in my
pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that may get it. My
marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have
fought His battle who now will be my rewarder. When the day that he
must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the river side,
into which as he went he said, ‘Death, where is thy sting?’ And as he
went down deeper, he said, ‘Grave, where is thy victory?’ So he
passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.”
 INDEX

Aground off coast of China, 63

Algebras, 164
Anglo-Chinese college, 216, 218
Anniversary of graduation, 39
Apparatus, 209, 211, 244
Apprehensions as to China, 308, 313
Arithmetic, 162

Baller, Rev. Mr., 182, 258, 333

Baptism, infant, tract, 160
Beaver Academy, 43, 239
Bergen, Paul D., 225, 229, 325
Birth, 15
Birthday, seventieth, 273, 295
Books in preparation, 160, 166
Boyish traits, 17, 25, 237
“Boxer” uprising, 264, 284, 286
Brown, Arthur J., 9, 12, 336
Brown, Julia A., 53
Brown, Margaret, 54, 123, 143, 153, 168
Business capability, 154
Canal, Grand, 169
Candidate for ministry, 42, 44, 48
Capp, Mrs., 54, 123, 143, 144, 153, 168, 276
Caring for converts and churches, 123, 126, 174, 178, 183, 192,
193, 194, 201
Catechism, 161
Chalfant, W. P., 325
Chapel at Tengchow, 110
Characteristics, personal, 25, 28, 45, 82, 83, 90, 91, 101, 148,
170, 171, 236, 320, 324, 330, 332, 333, 335, 336
Characters written, Chinese, 165, 253
Chefoo, 67, 203, 264, 265, 273, 281, 299, 300, 320, 326
China, appointed to, 57
China as a mission field, 70, 317
China, the “new,” 150, 286, 305, 311, 317
Chinese characteristics, 308, 312
Chinese language, 105, 108, 165, 252, 269
Chinese Presbyterian church, 199, 200, 204, 205
Chow Yuen, 123, 184
Christianity in China, 173, 310, 313
Classmates, 37, 38
Coal press, 75
Coffin, making a, 242
College student, 34, 93
Conference, first missionary, 252, 255
Conference, second missionary, 252
Conference, third missionary, 266, 267, 272
Controversies, 151, 170, 197, 203, 290
Conversion, 92
Converts, early, 123, 142, 143, 176, 177, 192
Corbett, Hunter, 59, 62, 67, 76, 102, 116, 119, 144, 176, 239,
300, 327, 328
Country school, 29
Cumberland valley, 15
Curriculum of Tengchow school, 136, 138, 144

Dangers, 63, 121, 122, 124, 280, 281, 283, 284

Death, 324
Delaware, Ohio, 52, 58
Delay after appointment, 51, 54, 99
Discipline, church, 142, 175, 200
Discipline, school, 140, 141
Diven, grandfather, 20
Doctorate of Divinity, 293
Doctorate of Laws, 293
Duffield, James, 30
Dunlaps creek academy, 32
Dwelling houses, 80, 228

Education and missions, 129, 159, 312, 315

Education, the “new,” in China, 244
Electrical machinery, 214, 248
Elterich, W. O., 328
Employment for converts, 246, 334
English Baptist mission, 225, 335
English in school and college, 203, 216, 218, 230, 292
Entertainments, 245, 250
Experimentation, scientific, 213

Faber hospital, 322

Famines, 287
Farm life, 22
Father, 16, 18
Field, Cyrus W., 213
Fitch, G. F., 157, 163, 170
Funeral services, 325, 326
Furloughs, 145, 298, 299, 300

General Assembly, 206, 303

Generosity, 171, 172, 287
Geometry, 163
Goodrich, Chauncey, 91, 165, 166, 258, 259, 266, 271, 272,
319, 320, 322, 323, 331
Graduates of college, 144, 145, 149, 233, 295, 323, 326
Grier, Margaret, 82

Hamilton, W. B., 332

Happer, Andrew P., 216
Haven, Ada, 299
Hayes, Watson M., 147, 164, 179, 210, 214, 225, 240, 322, 323,
329
Hays, Isaac N., 93
Hebrew at Chautauqua, 299
“Hermitage,” the, 22, 238, 304
Home life, 23, 41, 79, 82
Honors and distinctions, 38, 293
House-building, 76, 78, 228
Hunterstown academy, 31
Hymn book and hymns, 161

Illness, last, 321

Inns, Chinese, 68, 116
Invitations declined, 43, 52, 218, 294
Irwin, J. P., 328
Itinerations, 112, 116, 119, 123, 124, 125, 127, 184, 186, 329

Japanese bombardment of Tengchow, 284

Jefferson College, 33, 238

Kiao-chow, 195, 286

Kirkwood, Mrs. Jennie, 17, 23, 40
Korean expedition, 297
Kwan Yin temple, 73, 129, 135, 210

Language, learning the, 105, 108, 109

Licentiate, a, 49
Licentiates, Chinese, 201
Locomotives and Baldwin Works, 239, 243
Lwan, Pastor, 327

Maker, a, of “new” China, 309

Mandarin Dictionary, 165, 166
Mandarin Elementary Lemons, 170, 300
Mandarin Lessons, 167, 169, 172
Mandarin version, 252, 255, 256, 259, 263, 264, 265, 267, 268,
271, 319, 321, 322, 331
Manufacturing, 240
Marriage, 53, 299
Martin, W. A. P., 167, 249, 306
Mateer, Ada Haven, 82, 170, 241, 248, 250, 266, 299, 303, 319,
321, 322, 324, 333
Mateer, Horace N., 17
Mateer, Jennie W., 17, 23, 40
Mateer, John L., 17, 156, 278
Mateer, Julia A., 53, 62, 78, 108, 114, 123, 126, 129, 134, 137,
147, 169, 170, 192, 194, 276, 280, 298, 299
Mateer, Lillian, 17, 146, 147
Mateer, Robert M., 17, 146, 323, 324, 326
Mateer, William D., 17, 240
Mechanical ability, 155, 236
Medical work, 86, 298
Mercer, S. B., 32
“Methods of Missions,” 151, 196, 292
Miao, 123, 184
Miller, J. R., 44
Mills, Rev., 72, 114, 126, 167, 174, 179, 194, 199, 243, 276,
291, 298
Ministry, a Chinese, 161, 200, 314
“Mission,” the, 196
Missionary, a foreign, 40, 42, 49, 51, 54, 57
Missionary qualifications, 316
Moderator of Synod, 203
Mother, 16, 20, 40, 50, 299, 304
Museum, 245

Nanking, 169, 294

Nevius, J. L., 71, 145, 151, 196, 256, 259
New Testament revision, 258, 260, 264, 266
Ningpo, 203

Observatory, 209, 214

Old Testament revision, 272, 273, 319, 322
Ordination, 53

Parentage, 16, 18
Pastorate, 179, 180, 192
Pecuniary affairs, 171, 172
Peking, 264, 278, 285, 294
Periodicals and contributions, 150
Persecutions, 187, 195