Amanda's eyebrows lifted. "That won't last."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because men can't go without a woman, that's why. So he'll either want to bed you, or he'll go to another woman. Then you'll have a decision to make."
"You're wrong."
"We'll see."
***
Saturday dawned sunny and warm. A hint of a breeze floated through the open bedroom window, filling the room with the scent of roses from the bush outside. Crushed petals from the same rose bush hung with her wedding dress on the back of the door.
Emma breathed deeply, willing her stomach to settle. Why was she so nervous? It wasn't as if this was something she dreaded. No one was forcing her to marry Sam, yet her stomach was revolting with the same trepidation she assumed she'd feel if she was being led to slaughter.
True, she should have thought the matter through a little more thoroughly before she offered herself to Sam. More times than she could count she'd given herself the same lecture, and most of the time she regretted it when she let her impulsive nature overrule her brain.
But this time there hadn't been time to think about it, a little voice inside her head protested.
Once more, her stomach threatened to revolt. She closed her eyes took a few deep breaths until the queasiness passed.
Ridiculous! You're being downright silly!
Getting up, she crossed to the dressing table and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, and her fingers trembled as she reached up to pinch her cheeks to give them a little color.
Amanda had spent the last hour with a hot iron curling Emma's hair and piling it on her head, then tucking tiny pink rosebuds she'd picked from her garden into the curls. A few tendrils of hair hung down, softening the look. Then she'd gone home for a few minutes, leaving Emma with nothing to do but become more and more nervous. Even the trill of a robin in a nest outside the parlor window had startled her a few minutes before.
Emma glanced at the clock. Amanda would be back in a few minutes to help her into her wedding dress. She hadn't had time to order a proper wedding gown, so she'd settled for a dress she'd bought in New York, a confection of white silk with a row of pale pink embroidered flowers bordering both the hem and sleeves. She'd purchased the dress the day before the accident--
She wouldn't think about that now. Today was the beginning of a new life.
She looked at the clock again. In another hour, she would be a married woman and the mother of three children.
Mrs. Samuel Jenkins. Joseph, Nathan and Rebecca Jenkins' mother.
If she lived long enough to get to the church, she thought miserably as another wave of nausea washed over her.
***
While Amanda chattered to James in the front seat of the buggy, Emma sat in the back, her thoughts centred on the silence around them. The streets of Charity were practically empty, and for the first time that she could remember, a closed sign hung in the window of the mercantile.
Where was everybody? They couldn't possibly be ...
As they rounded the corner, the steepled church came into view, and Emma let out a panicked sound. "Oh ..."
By the number of wagons and horses cluttering the dirt road leading to the church at the edge of town, it seemed that the wedding of Emma Witherspoon to Sam Jenkins was an occasion not to be missed.
She should have known, yet somehow she was surprised. It wasn't often the citizens of Charity found a reason to celebrate, and they didn't miss the opportunity when it presented itself. A wedding was a good excuse to put aside their day-to-day problems for a few hours and socialize with their neighbors.
As they neared the front of the church, Emma recognized Sam's wagon. Her heart began to flutter with the speed of a hummingbird's wings.
James brought the buggy to a halt and climbed out, helping Amanda down and then offering his hand to Emma.
Emma got out, then lifted her bouquet of deep pink roses from the seat. She took a deep breath and gave James a tremulous smile.
Tears were already spilling from Amanda's eyes when she spoke. "Are you sure, Emma?"
Lifting her chin, she smiled at her best friend. "Positive. If I can be half as happy as you and James are, I'll be satisfied."
The two women embraced each other, then James leaned down and kissed Emma's cheek. "If you ever need us ..."
"I know. And thank you."
James took Amanda's arm and helped her up the steps to the church door. Amanda turned and gave Emma a tearful smile, then they disappeared into the dim interior, leaving Emma alone at the base of the church steps.
This was it.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Emma carefully climbed the steps and went inside.
***
Sam ran his finger around the inside of his shirt collar and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The church was stifling, especially at the altar, where he and Fred were standing. The windows were open, yet nothing stirred the air inside. Perspiration trickled down his back beneath his dark wool suit. "Maybe she's changed her mind," he muttered under his breath to Fred, standing beside him.
"You hopin' she did?" Fred asked.
Sam swallowed. Maybe it would be better if she doesn't show up. His mind wandered back to another wedding, to a day when the future looked bright, when he'd been positive his bride would love him forever.
It had been a much grander church, with hundreds of guests in attendance, a choir and a symphony of bells that had been ringing when they arrived. Catherine's parents had been furious about her choice of a husband, but when she had threatened to elope, they had spared no expense for their only daughter's wedding.
He had waited for his bride that day with love and happiness in his heart, and with hope and excitement for their future together. If he had known how it would end ... would he have married her anyway?
Before he had a chance to answer his own question, a small voice called to him, drawing his attention back to the present, and to the children in the front pew.
Joseph sat at the end, his back straight, his eyes straight ahead. Nathan, beside him, slouched in the seat, his blond head barely visible above the top of the pew. Lou Holloway, Fred's wife, sat with them, holding Becky on her knee. She mouthed an apology.
Becky waved at him. "Papa, where Emma? She coming?"
Muffled laughter filled the church, and Sam smiled apologetically at Reverend Winslop.
"Hush, Becky." Gramma Lou admonished the little girl. "You must be quiet in church."
Becky gazed up at Lou, then turned to Mr. and Mrs. Kuipers sitting in the pew directly behind them. With a serious expression, she announced, "Emma gonna be a bride, you know. She told me."
"Becky! Shh!" Lou placed a quieting finger on Becky's lips.
"But she did." Becky's eyes were huge.
"I know she did, sweetheart," Lou said, "but you must sit quietly and wait until she gets here."
"But when is she coming?"
"Soon."
"But I want to see her."
"You will. Now hush."
The oak door opened, and Sam saw Amanda and James come into the church. Fred nudged Sam in the ribs. "I reckon she must be here," he said.
As Amanda and James took their places, Amanda gave a signal to the organist. Suddenly, music filled the air.
Then Emma appeared in the doorway, and Sam's breath caught in his throat at the vision.
A shaft of sunlight gleamed through the door behind her, forming a golden halo around her.
My God, she's beautiful. Like an angel.
Their eyes met, and Sam's heart galloped like a stampeding herd. This was his bride, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.
A strange peace settled over him as he waited for her to move towards him.
***
It seemed the entire population of Charity was packed inside the small church. For several moments, Emma stood at the back of the church, her gaze focused on the man waiting for her at th
e altar a several yards away.
Dressed in a black suit with a snowy white shirt and black string tie, Sam was more handsome than she'd ever imagined. As she made her way down the aisle towards him, she was vaguely aware of the smiles and hushed voices as she passed the townsfolk, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Sam.
As she gazed into his dark eyes, a curious warmth she didn't recognize swirled deep inside her, leaving her heart pounding and her knees weak.
As she drew closer and stopped beside him in front of the altar, the expression on his face was one of confusion, as if he'd never seen her before. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and Emma noticed his pulse beating rapidly in the tanned skin of his neck.
Did he have regrets? Was he wishing he'd hadn't agreed to marry her? Was he thinking of his first wife and remembering their wedding?
The organ music stopped, and Reverend Winslop began to speak.
"Dearly beloved ..."
Oh, if only they were beloved. If only she was marrying a man she loved and who loved her, instead of marrying a virtual stranger.
"We are gathered here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony..."
Emma's heart began to thud, and she glanced down, sure that she would be able to see the rapid beating of her heart right through the silk fabric.
"Please join hands," the minister went on.
Sam's fingers closed over hers, and a tremor of warmth streaked through her. Shocked, she lifted her gaze to Sam’s face. His eyes were wide. Had he felt it, too?
The minister was speaking, but Emma saw nothing but Sam's face, heard nothing but Sam's voice. "I, Samuel Edward Jenkins ..." he began, pausing as the minister coached him with the appropriate vows, "... take thee, Emma Violet Witherspoon ... to be my wedded wife ... better or worse ... until death do us part."
Until death do us part. Forever. Eternity. Until the end of time. This was the vow he was making to her, this man she barely knew. And she would make the same vow to him.
Could they really make this work? Could they spend their lives together and be happy?
"Emma?" a voice whispered, then again, louder this time.
"Oh ... I'm sorry ..."
"It's your turn," Reverend Winslop said softly.
Emma's voice quivered as she began to recite her vows.. "I, Emma Violet Witherspoon, take thee, Samuel Edward Jenkins, to be my husband ..." As she said the sacred words, her gaze met Sam's, and her voice became louder, stronger.
A few minutes later, Reverend Winslop said the words that would bind them for life. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.
Sam squeezed her hand, but whether it was a nervous reaction to the finality of the situation, or whether he was pleased, Emma had no way of knowing.
Then the minister winked at Sam and grinned wickedly. "Well, Sam, are you going to kiss your bride or not?"
Chapter 5
For several long moments, Sam didn't move. His heart hammered against his ribs, and he felt a drop of sweat trickle down between his shoulder blades.
He hadn't kissed any woman besides Catherine in almost ten years. Hell, he hadn't kissed a woman at all in almost three.
Now, with the whole town of Charity looking on, he was expected to kiss a woman he hardly knew.
Finally, he cupped Emma's cheeks in his hands. Her skin was smooth and pale except for the dusting of freckles her face powder hadn't been able to hide. For some reason, he was glad. The freckles suited her.
He felt her move, and then felt her hands resting on his as he closed the gap between them. He breathed in the scent of roses as his lips brushed against hers. The kiss was feather-light, but had the force of a mule kick. Heat seared through him. He wanted nothing more than to feel her lips against his, to go further, to explore the warm recesses of her mouth. Instead, he pulled away before his body betrayed him and he dragged her into his arms.
He caught Fred looking at him, shaking his head.
"I thought you coulda done better than that," Fred muttered.
Trouble was, he could have done a lot better than that. And that's what scared the bejeezus out of him. What had happened?
His body wasn't listening to his brain. That’s what had happened. How could he even think about kissing Emma when his wife - the woman he loved - lay buried only a few yards away.
The moment passed, and the minister moved towards them, taking them and turning them to face the congregation. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "I'd like to present, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Jenkins."
The minister was wrong. It wasn't the first time there had been a Mrs. Samuel Jenkins.
Sam glanced over at Emma. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, but when she caught his gaze, her expression changed, and she gave him a quivery smile.
Sam took Emma's arm and guided her back down the aisle and outside. The guests followed, surrounding them, all talking at once.
"... Congratulations ..."
"... hope you'll be very happy ..."
"... long life ..."
"... many children ..."
"We didn't even realize you and Sam were courting," Mrs. Devassy said.
Emma merely smiled. She wasn't about to tell anyone the circumstances of their marriage. It was probably killing the woman that there was one piece of gossip in Charity she hadn't known about.
Jacob Endersby, the undertaker, pumped Sam's hand. "You've got yourself a good woman," he pronounced. "Every bachelor in Charity is grieving today."
"I'm sure I do," Sam replied, giving her a smile.
People milled around, and it was several minutes by the time Amanda jostled through the crowd to Emma's side once again. "Come on," she said, grabbing both Emma and Sam and leading them through the guests. "We have a surprise for you."
In the hubbub, Emma could barely hear what Amanda was saying. "What?"
"Come on," Amanda repeated. "Follow me."
"Wait! Where are the children?"
Amanda took Sam's elbow with one hand and Emma's with the other and led them through the crowd. "Don't worry. Lou has the children."
As they escaped from the crowd, Amanda whispered to Sam, but loudly enough for Emma to hear. "A little word of advice, Sam. Emma loves surprises."
Sam grinned. "She does, does she?"
Emma's eyes widened. "I do not."
"Anything you need to know, just ask me," Amanda continued.
"Don't listen to a word she tells you," Emma put in, laughing.
As they made their way across the grassy yard of the church, Amanda began listing Emma's virtues. Emma's face grew warm at her friend's compliments, but her protests went unheeded.
She gave Sam an apologetic glance, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, nodding now and then in agreement, asking questions to encourage Amanda for more details.
Emma sighed. "You two--"
"Are going to get along fine," Amanda said, then leaned up to kiss Sam's cheek. "Just don't hurt her, Sam."
Sam's eyes darkened, and he turned to face Emma as he responded to Amanda's command. "I won't."
"Good. That's all I ask. Now come on."
Sam and Emma followed Amanda to the rear of the church and opened the door to the church hall. Emma clasped her hands in delight as she went inside and saw what the townsfolk had done. Behind her, she heard Amanda say, "See, Sam. I told you she loved surprises."
Three chairs sat empty on a makeshift stage near the door. A fiddle leaned against one of the chairs. A guitar and a banjo rested against the wall behind it.
At the far end of the hall, two long tables had been set up and covered with white linens. Platters piled high with meat and bread, bowls of salads, and plates of pies and pastries filled the surfaces, along with two glass punch bowls filled with lemonade. In the centre of the table was a frosted slab cake decorated with pink ribbons and rosebuds.
The guests began to applaud as Sam and Emma made their way to the tables.
Emma turned to Amanda. "Oh, my go
odness ... how did you ...?"
"I didn't do anything. The ladies in town got together ..."
"And the cake ..."
"Compliments of Mrs. Sanchez."
Emma’s eyes filled with tears. Her neighbors, her friends, these people she'd known her whole life ... How precious they all were to her.
Someone handed her a cup of lemonade and she took a sip. She should say something. She should thank them, but her voice couldn't get past the lump in her throat.
Sam smiled at her, those dark eyes of his reading her mind.
"Ladies and gentlemen." Sam's voice boomed through the hall. Gradually, the conversations faded away as the guests waited for Sam to speak.
"Emma and I are deeply touched by your kindness." He glanced at Emma and gave her a soft smile.
Emma's eyes widened in surprise that he seemed to be able to express exactly what she wanted to say.
He continued while Emma looked on. It was apparent to her that he wasn't comfortable speaking in public. She could tell by the way he stood, his hands clenched together behind his back. Yet he stood there, so tall, so handsome, his voice clear and steady, speaking as if this was something he did every day.
A strange sensation flowed through her. Pride? No, it was more than that, but she couldn't put a name to it.
"... so we'd like to thank you for joining us to celebrate this very special day."
Applause thundered through the hall. Within moments, voices and laughter again filled the air.
"Hell, you oughta be a politician," Fred said, coming up beside Sam and slapping him on the back. "Never knew ya had it in ya to talk so good."
"It's just a damn good thing I only have to do it once," Sam grumbled good-naturedly.
Once. Yes, Emma thought. This day will only happen once.
Sam took Emma's hand. "Do you want something to eat?" he asked, eyeing the tables straining under the weight of so much food.
Strangely enough, Emma's stomach had settled considerably, and she recognized the empty feeling as hunger. And if she was hungry ...
Emma's Wish Page 6
