Snowbound with the Best Man

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Snowbound with the Best Man Page 19

by Allie Pleiter


  It was hard being a new Christian when your past mistakes were so obvious.

  She picked up the book and lowered herself gingerly back into the chair. She was glad she’d brought her Bible with her. Changing into her nicest maternity dress hadn’t taken very long, and as the hour of her wedding approached, she’d grown more and more nervous.

  She’d seen the quick, sidelong glances as she’d hurried down the hallway to this room. It certainly wasn’t the first time church ladies had looked down their noses at her, but today, with her nerves already jumping, it was all a little too much. So she’d turned to the Psalms, hoping to find some peace.

  The Bible was still pretty unfamiliar territory, but whispering the calming verses aloud had helped her settle down. Unfortunately, the serious look on this handsome minister’s face was stirring all her butterflies right back up again.

  He lingered in the doorway for a second. When he finally did come over to claim the empty chair, his leg brushed hers and she caught a whiff of spicy, masculine soap. She scooted a little farther away, wishing their seats weren’t quite so close together.

  This man sure didn’t look like any preacher she’d ever seen before. He was way too good-looking, for one thing. As if being born with golden hair and sea-blue eyes wasn’t enough, he also sported a strong square chin and broad, quarterback shoulders.

  He was watching her silently, drumming his fingers on his knees.

  “You look like you’ve had the wind knocked out of you, Pastor. I’m guessing nobody told you about my...condition?”

  The minister cleared his throat. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  Not this again. Old Pastor Michaelson had only agreed to marry them after a long and embarrassing lecture. She wasn’t sure she could take another one of those, not right now. “Do you have a problem performing the ceremony? Because I’m pregnant, I mean?”

  This was exactly why she’d lobbied for a courthouse wedding. She’d been getting this kind of reaction from people ever since the day she’d had to change into maternity clothes. If she hadn’t needed her new faith so desperately, she might have given up on religion altogether.

  As it was, she’d just given up on churches.

  But this man immediately shook his head.

  “No! Not at all.” The denial came out with such force that Natalie actually believed him. “Sorry, it’s just...there’s no easy way to say this.” The minister took a deep breath and looked at her directly. She braced herself.

  “What?”

  “Adam has had some...uh...second thoughts.”

  “Second thoughts?” Natalie blinked. That was the reason for all this?

  She’d had a few second thoughts of her own. But in the end she always came back to the same hard truth.

  Marrying Adam was the right thing to do.

  “But isn’t that pretty normal?” she asked. Especially for a man who’d basically been strong-armed by his grandmother into getting married in the first place.

  She kept that last bit to herself. There was no need for everybody to know that the father of her baby had needed an awful lot of convincing to marry her. This situation was already humiliating enough.

  “It’s totally normal, but I’m afraid this is more serious than an ordinary case of cold feet.” He paused. “I’m so sorry.”

  Natalie’s heart fell. He was so sorry. That could only mean one thing.

  The wedding was off.

  She could feel him watching her, obviously braced for some kind of explosion. Well, he was wasting his time. She was way too exhausted for anything like that.

  Instead, she just blinked at the burgundy carpet, her still-new Bible pressed against the bulge of her pregnant tummy, her brain struggling to catch up.

  Could this really be happening? After all the praying, all the planning... Adam was dumping her here at the last possible minute? Seriously?

  What on earth was she going to do now?

  “Natalie? Could I go out to the sanctuary and get somebody for you? Your mom? A sister, maybe?”

  She brought her gaze back to his face. “No,” she managed. “There’s nobody. I don’t actually...have much family.”

  The worry in his eyes morphed into a compassion so warm that she had to fight a crazy urge to bury her face in his shoulder and sob.

  “I understand,” he said. “Well, in that case, Natalie, I—”

  He was interrupted by a knock on the door. A blonde woman who’d introduced herself to Natalie earlier as the church pianist poked her head in the room, her eyes wide. “There you are, Pastor Stone! I’m so sorry to interrupt, but there’s a lady out here who really wants a word with you.”

  “Step aside, please.” Natalie winced as she recognized the voice booming from the hallway. She really didn’t feel up to coping with Adam’s grandmother right now.

  Cora Larkey pushed herself into the small room, the stiff veil on her lime-green hat trembling. Her entire outfit was the same shade, and she had the white rose corsage Natalie had given her earlier pinned to her substantial bosom.

  “This wedding was supposed to start a half hour ago. What’s going on?” Cora’s blue eyes flittered between Natalie and the minister. “Where’s my grandson? And who on earth are you?”

  The last question was directed at Jacob Stone, who cast a quick, concerned glance at Natalie before rising from his seat. He introduced himself to the elderly lady and ushered her into the chair he’d just vacated.

  Natalie wished he hadn’t. As Cora sank down, a dense cloud of her expensive perfume replaced the light scent of his soap, making Natalie feel faintly queasy.

  The minister unfolded a metal chair that had been leaning against one wall and sat down across from them. Natalie listened tensely as he repeated his news to Cora, adding some details that made Natalie cringe. Now she was the one bracing for an explosion. She knew from personal experience that Adam’s grandmother didn’t take bad news well.

  “He did what?” Sure enough, Cora started spluttering in the middle of the explanation. “That aggravating boy! Of course,” she added quickly, darting an alarmed look at the minister’s face, “he’s young. He’ll come around and do the right thing eventually, I’m sure. But this is quite...difficult.” Her small eyes flickered back over to Natalie. “Could I have a moment alone with the bride, Pastor? The two of us need to talk privately.”

  “Of course.” The minister stood. Judging by that relieved look on his face, Adam wasn’t the only man who wanted to run away from her today. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

  As soon as he’d closed the door, the older woman shifted in her chair and pointed a finger at Natalie. “I should have known the two of you would pull something like this. Well, it won’t work. I made myself very clear. You’re not getting any help from me until you’re decently married.”

  “I had nothing to do with this!”

  “You expect me to believe that? You never wanted to have this wedding in a church. You made that very plain.”

  “I just thought a civil ceremony would be less stressful for everybody, and more appropriate, given the...circumstances. That’s all.”

  “The Larkeys do not marry in courthouses. And the circumstances you find yourself in are your own fault.”

  “Not only mine.”

  Cora made an impatient noise. “Of course not. And that’s why we’re here. So that Adam can do the responsible thing for once in his life. I should never have left him alone. I should have been watching him like a hawk.”

  “But I never wanted to force Adam into this. If he really doesn’t want to get married...” Natalie trailed off. She had no idea what to say next.

  She’d truly believed that this wedding was God’s answer to her prayers. When Cora had talked Adam into proposing, Natalie had set her own doubts aside, gathered up her fragile faith and put all her eggs in on
e shaky basket.

  And now that basket had climbed out the church window and left her to deal with his grandmother.

  Sometimes, Natalie reflected, life was just not fair.

  “Don’t be silly,” Cora was saying. “Of course Adam doesn’t want to get married, but what choice does he have now? You certainly can’t take proper care of that baby on your own. You have no education, no job, no family worth talking about.”

  “I had a job up until last week. I only quit it because I was moving here.”

  “Waitressing at that tacky little diner? That hardly counts. And no great-grandchild of mine is going to be brought up in an Atlanta housing project, I’ll tell you that.”

  Natalie pressed her lips together tightly and said nothing. There was nothing to say. On that one point, she and Cora were in total agreement.

  “Adam has to go through with this marriage, for that innocent baby’s sake,” Cora continued. “Although goodness knows, I don’t see what else I can do. That boy has hoodwinked me for the last time. I’ve already told him, unless he does the proper thing, he’ll not see another cent from me. And believe you me, I meant it.”

  “I know you did.” Adam had known it, too, which was why he’d suddenly resurfaced after months of dodging her phone calls and texts. It was humiliating to know that it took the prospect of losing his grandmother’s money to get Adam to propose. But when you were buying your maternity clothes at thrift stores and could barely afford even the small co-pays for the local public health clinic, pride was a little out of your price range.

  Even so, Natalie hadn’t much liked the idea of a shotgun wedding, but she’d wavered when Cora had discussed setting up a college fund for the baby. Then Cora had mentioned giving them her late husband’s hobby farm to live on.

  The promise of the farm had finally done it. Natalie had looked around her shabby apartment, awash with flashing lights from the police car parked outside her building for the third time that week. She’d imagined her son roaming the housing project with the other children of the overworked mothers, most of them single like her.

  She’d known exactly where that path could lead. Just last week she’d tried to comfort a neighbor whose fourteen-year-old son had been arrested for selling drugs. The neighbor wasn’t a bad mother. She just wasn’t a match for the bad influences that lurked on every trash-littered corner of this neighborhood.

  If Natalie stayed, one day her child could be the one in trouble. She couldn’t let that happen, and she couldn’t get out of there on her own.

  Not soon enough, anyway.

  Cora was right, Natalie had decided. The best thing to do was marry Adam and make it work somehow. Their baby was all that mattered.

  “Oh well,” Cora was saying irritably. “I expect I’ll hear from Adam when he gets to the bottom of his bank account, and that shouldn’t take long. That boy’s never earned an honest dollar in his life, in spite of that pricey college degree I paid for.” Cora’s eyes skimmed Natalie’s rounded figure. “Thankfully, the baby’s not due for another three weeks, so a few more days shouldn’t matter. You’ll just have to stay put while we wait Adam out.” The older woman pushed up from her seat and started for the door. Alarmed, Natalie struggled to her feet, as well.

  Cora wanted her to wait here? In Pine Valley? How was she supposed to do that?

  Cora already had her hand on the doorknob.

  “I don’t have any place to stay.” Natalie’s cheeks burned as she blurted out her admission. She’d given up her apartment, and she couldn’t check back in to the ratty motel where she’d spent the last two nights. It might be the cheapest place in town, but it was still out of her price range.

  Cora halted, frowning. “Well, you certainly can’t come home with me. My retirement complex has very strict rules.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “Fine. Here.” She rummaged in the green purse swinging at her elbow and brought out an old-fashioned key. “I suppose you can go on out to Lark Hill. Adam’s been staying there for the past week, supposedly making some repairs. You know how men are when they’re living alone. I expect by now the house needs a good cleaning. You might as well spend your time doing that until he turns back up.”

  Lark Hill.

  Even the name was beautiful. Natalie had been daydreaming about that farm for weeks. She felt a rush of sweet relief.

  Thank You, God.

  Maybe, just maybe, He hadn’t completely abandoned her, after all.

  “But mind you, this is a temporary arrangement. I won’t sign over the deed until the two of you are married. And if I were you,” Cora continued, “I’d stay out at Lark Hill and keep to myself as much as possible until all this is settled. People are a lot more old-fashioned in these small towns than they are in Atlanta. There’s no sense stirring up any more gossip. Folks will have plenty to say about your...situation as it is. Oh, they’ll be nice, at least to your face. Some of the churches may even offer to help you, but—”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t need any help,” Natalie interrupted. Especially not from a church, she finished silently. Cora’s warning wasn’t necessary. Atlanta wasn’t as different from Pine Valley as Adam’s grandmother seemed to think. “I’m used to taking care of myself.”

  “Good. Now—” Cora drew in a deep breath “—I’m going to go home. This whole thing has been most unpleasant. When Adam calls about the money, I’ll let you know.” With that, the older woman bustled out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

  Money. Natalie’s eyes widened as an awful realization hit her like a slap. She’d only brought her purse and a little overnight bag into the church. Nothing else. She’d left all the rest of her belongings in the back of Adam’s Jeep. That meant Adam had driven off with everything she owned, including the small amount of money she’d hidden in her suitcase after cashing her last paycheck. It wasn’t much, but apart from a couple of twenties tucked in her billfold, it was every penny she had in the world.

  What was she going to do?

  If Adam found that money, he’d spend it. Even if he didn’t find it, Adam was awfully good at mooching. In spite of Cora’s predictions, there was really no telling when he might show up. The baby wasn’t due for nearly another month, but on her last clinic visit, she’d been told that he might come early. Any day now, the doctor had said.

  Natalie suddenly found it hard to breathe, and the cramped dressing room began to spin.

  “Miss Davis? Natalie! You need to sit down.” A deep voice spoke urgently in front of her. She was dimly aware of a pressure on her arms, pushing her back into the chair. “Breathe. In and out. Good, slow breaths.”

  She followed his instructions. In and out. The swirling mist in her mind cleared, and she was able to focus her eyes on Pastor Jacob Stone’s face.

  He’d gone pale. “I’m calling 911.”

  “No! No, I’m all right,” she managed. She didn’t have the money to pay for an emergency room visit, or anything else.

  He looked unconvinced. “In your condition, it might be a good idea to get checked out. You have to think about your baby.”

  Natalie’s hand strayed to her rounded stomach. Ever since the ultrasound technician had told her she was having a boy, she’d been thinking about nothing but her baby. Right then and there, she’d made her child a silent promise.

  You’re not going to be like me. You’re going to have a good life.

  Remembering that moment now, she felt a fresh rush of resolve. She meant to keep that promise. Her son was going to grow up healthy and strong in a safe place, and he was going to finish high school and maybe even go to college.

  “Natalie?”

  Jacob Stone was still waiting for her answer. She took a steadying breath. “I’m fine, really. I’m just tired. It’s been a hard day.”

  “I’d say that’s an understatement.” The sympathetic lines around his eyes deepened, and he gave h
er arm a gentle squeeze. “This is all going to work out, Natalie. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it will.” He sounded so sure; she almost believed him. “In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

  Natalie tightened her fingers, pressing the hard metal key into her palm. Cora’s blunt warning echoed in her memory. They may offer to help you.

  But what choice did she have?

  She cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, there is...”

  Copyright © 2018 by Laurel Blount

  ISBN-13: 9781488090752

  Snowbound with the Best Man

  Copyright © 2018 by Alyse Stanko Pleiter

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