by Liz Johnson
Natalie folded her arms across her stomach and nodded. “Nothing can change what he did.”
“Of course not. But it doesn’t mean you have to be the one to carry the weight of his bad decisions.”
The back of her eyes burned, and she pressed her palm over her mouth. Some scars ran too deep.
Marie reached for her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “It’s still a bit of a mystery to me, but here’s what I’ve learned. Forgiveness isn’t reserved for the ones who deserve it. God gives it freely, and we should do the same. The one person you can set free from bitterness is you. The fact that your dad apologized is amazing. But even if he hadn’t, at some point you’re going to have to let go of your anger or you’ll end up just like him, hurting the people you’re supposed to love.”
The waterworks turned on, and suddenly she couldn’t keep the sobs and hiccups from following suit.
She’d done everything—everything—to keep from becoming her parents. And she’d still ended up just like them, wielding her anger and bitterness as a shield, trying desperately to protect herself. But it didn’t work.
It never worked. It never would.
Sniffing against the flood running down her face, she said, “It took me a lot of hours of therapy to put a voice to my mom’s pain. I think she was so hurt by my dad that she didn’t know how to do anything but hurt me. All I knew growing up was that I didn’t want to be anything like her.” She curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her stomach and wishing she could leave the island forever. Only she had to face Marie’s words. “And now you’re telling me I’m exactly like she was.”
Marie caught her hand, tugging it free and pressing it to her knee. “I’m not saying that at all. We all deal with our disappointments and hurts differently. You don’t have to be your mom or your dad. But I know that when I carried around my dad’s betrayal, there wasn’t room in my heart to love anyone else.”
“What about Seth?” She glanced toward the door that led to the stairs, where he’d disappeared thirty minutes before. “You seem to be so in love.”
Marie’s face glowed, and now Natalie was sure it wasn’t just the pregnancy. “We are. I love that man more than I thought was even possible. But when we met, we were a mess. We were both lugging around broken hearts, and we were afraid of what falling in love might mean.” Her gaze turned distant, as though she was ten miles away and ten years ago. “Loving someone is kind of like offering forgiveness. There’s no guarantee that they’re not going to hurt you again. You can’t promise perfection. But you choose to love and you choose to forgive, because living in fear of being hurt again is just a facsimile of life.”
Is that what her carefully crafted facade was? A facsimile of life?
But she was happy. Despite the tears currently gushing down her cheeks, she was happy.
Or are you simply safe?
No. This was happiness. A good life. A stable home. A kind man. This was what she’d always dreamed of. This was everything her childhood wasn’t. This was what she wanted.
Are you sure about that?
No.
Oblivious to the argument waging inside Natalie, Marie patted her hand. “I know this is hard, but I think you should reconsider what your dad said. For your sake and for Russell’s. What you don’t deal with now is going to show up in your marriage.” She managed a tremulous smile. “As long as your heart is still leaking, you won’t be able to love Russell like he deserves.”
Natalie swiped at the dampness beneath her eyes with both hands and sat up a little straighter.
She had to deal with her dad, because she couldn’t jeopardize her marriage to Russell. There were too many eyes watching, waiting for her to screw this up.
Suddenly feet pounded down the stairs, the squeaky step letting out its pitiful cry. The apartment door flung open and slammed closed. Then Seth stood in the bedroom doorway, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
Marie was the first to catch her wits. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
He waved in the general direction of the upstairs, his breath still too fast. “Father Chuck.”
“Is he all right?” Natalie asked.
“Just called. Fire at the church.”
Natalie jumped to her feet, the words ringing in her ears. “Fire? Does he need help?”
“No. It’s out. But the entire altar area is ruined.”
“Ruined?” Marie’s face turned grave. “Then where are we going to have the wedding ceremony?”
Excellent question. One Natalie didn’t have an answer for.
Seth shook his head. “I don’t know. But the church is no longer an option. At least not next week.”
19
I can’t wait to see the barn after all the work you’ve put into it.”
Natalie nodded at Russell over breakfast the next morning to let him know she’d heard him. But she didn’t have much else to offer by way of reply. Not when the wedding she was planning was turning into definitely not the wedding she’d planned.
Russell made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat as he scooped in another forkful of Caden’s excellent salmon and asparagus omelet. “Have you been eating like this all summer?”
“Like what?” She eyed the cinnamon roll that she might have shared with the boy at the next table over, if his family hadn’t checked out the day before. “Like three-course meals every morning from the best chef on the island? Pretty much.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have left.” He shoveled in another bite, savoring it just as loudly.
She knew he was referring to all the delicious breakfasts he’d missed, but something inside her snapped. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have.”
His eyebrows rose, and he wiped each corner of his mouth with his cloth napkin before setting it down again in his lap. “Is everything all right? You were acting strange last night too.”
Strange like she’d spent the better part of her afternoon pulling her hair out trying to find a new venue for them to say their vows? Or strange like he’d noticed that she couldn’t quite bring herself to kiss him when he arrived at the inn a little after midnight? She’d brushed it off because their friends were with him, and she hadn’t wanted to make a spectacle.
But shouldn’t she have missed him so much that she couldn’t wait to be back in his arms?
Instead, well, she didn’t know what she felt. Except that maybe something had changed while he was gone.
“I’m sorry. Yes, everything’s fine. I’m just tired, I guess. It’s been a long few weeks, and it’s been hard to get everything done without you.” That sounded like a reasonable excuse for her mutinous emotions.
“Didn’t your friend help out?” He snapped his fingers twice. “Justin something-or-other.”
If he only knew. “Yes. Justin helped out plenty.” Helped her into this inner turmoil that was liable to sink her ship—and her chance at a future with Russell—any day now.
“So what’s the problem? Too many cinnamon rolls? Your dress doesn’t fit?”
Why was everyone so obsessed with her dress fitting?
Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but it sure felt like she was getting the third degree about it lately. First Marie. Now Russell. Had she gained so much weight that she looked like her dress wouldn’t fit?
Someone put her out of her misery.
She hung her head and closed her eyes and prayed for an escape. Except that’s what she always did. She ran. And she couldn’t run now.
“There was a fire at the church. And now we don’t have a place for the ceremony.”
His forehead bunched up, and his eyes squinted. “I thought the wedding was at the barn. Isn’t it?”
Seriously? Had he just admitted to not even knowing where their wedding was going to take place? Exactly how disconnected was he from her life—from their life? Was it always going to be the music and then her?
Blood boiled too close to the surface, so she pressed her hands to her c
heeks and kept her head down. Her tongue was getting awfully sore from biting it, but she clamped onto it again.
Don’t say anything.
But he waited for her response, his impatient fingers strumming on the table.
Taking a stabilizing breath, she licked her lips and stared straight at him. “The reception is at the barn. The ceremony was going to be at the church.”
“Oh. Well, why not just move all of it to the barn? Then we won’t have to travel between locations. It’ll save time, and we’ll get to start the party sooner.”
Something about the way he said those last words made a tiny piece of her heart die. It was almost as if he was looking forward to the reception more than the marriage, to the party more than setting the tone for the rest of their lives together.
Even though she knew he didn’t mean it like that, it was hard not to read into what he said. She was marrying him for forever, and he was interested in a good party.
But she couldn’t blame him for his careless words. It wasn’t like he knew that she’d hoped and prayed for a marriage completely unlike her parents’. After all, she’d never told him, never spoke of the reasons why this was so important to her.
Beyond that, there was a little whisper in the back of her brain that said she didn’t want to say her vows to another man on Kane property. It didn’t seem right. “I don’t think so. We can’t just spring the entire thing on the Kanes.”
“It’s not any different than what you’d already planned. Besides, this will make everything easier.”
“But there aren’t any pews for the guests to sit in.”
“So we’ll bring in some more chairs.” He knocked his middle knuckle against the blue tablecloth as though that settled the whole thing. And in his mind it did.
But just because Natalie had temporarily run out of valid reasons why the Kanes’ barn was not the place to do this didn’t mean her argument was over. Temporary hiatus was more like it. Until she could pick it back up, she was forced to follow Russell down the road to the barn to see all the hard work they’d put in.
She hadn’t been quite ready.
Even from the edge of the road, the sturdy barn couldn’t be missed. Justin must have mowed the grass around the structure, and against the shorter green, the white walls and blue roof gleamed beneath the sun. A touch of gray in the shingles kept it from blending into the too blue sky or the vast water that reached to the horizon. From this angle she could make out the edge of a red cliff, a narrow finger into the ocean, a testament to PEI’s beauty.
She wanted to stand there for a long moment, close her eyes, and drink in the smell of wildflowers and fresh-cut grass. Her head lolled to the rhythm of the waves, and she smiled at the familiarity.
Why had she been so terrified of returning all those weeks ago?
But there was no time to consider that question as Russell grabbed her hand and tugged her across the field.
“People can park over there, I guess.” He pointed to one of the plots that Justin had surely cleared. “It’s nice enough. As good as the church.”
Only it wasn’t the same. Surely God could be as present in an old barn as he was at First Church of North Rustico. But there was something stirring, something holy, about making a vow before God in his own house.
As they reached the barn door, the gentle strum of a guitar greeted them. It wasn’t showy or loud, the notes sweet and tender. Then a low, even voice joined in, and the words nearly knocked her on her backside.
“When the storm is rolling o’er the sea
And the light can’t even reach the trees,
You can find a peace with me
Somewhere on this shore.”
He took a breath, changed the chord, and kept going.
“If the seasons are about to change
And every hope seems beyond your range,
I will offer you a sweet exchange
Somewhere on this shore.”
She didn’t have any doubt. Justin had written those words for her. And she couldn’t bear to stop him. Or to hear another word.
Maybe when he’d asked her if she thought he was that kind of man, he’d meant that he would have liked to be the one to marry her. And when he’d said she wasn’t unlovable, did he know for sure because he had loved her?
Maybe not now. Maybe not anymore. But once.
Could someone know her so well, know all the hurts and foibles and outbursts she was prone to, and still love her?
She’d counted that cost with Russell and decided he could not.
But what if Justin was different?
She stopped breathing, an ache in her chest so searing that she couldn’t move. Russell stopped for a moment too, his face shifting into music mode. His ears seemed to twitch as he listened for every transition and pitch. Justin hit them each perfectly.
He was sitting on a round table with his back to them, his foot planted on a chair and guitar resting on his knee. His hair was taller now, filled with vibrancy and life since he’d trimmed off the ponytail. It was short over his ears and at the back of his neck, and the front had been given just enough gel to add an inch to his height.
She wanted to run her fingers through it.
She pressed her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes against the traitorous thought. She had to capture these ideas intent on getting her into trouble. Capture them and dispose of them. Immediately.
She could do that. She could definitely do that.
“Didn’t you say that we’re still looking for a musician?” Russell interrupted her internal pep talk and Justin’s playing at the same time.
Justin found his voice first, hopping off the table and walking toward them. “I didn’t hear you come in. Good to see you, Russ.” He reached out to shake hands, but Russell seemed lost somewhere else.
“It’s Russell.” His correction was quick but not harsh. “What are you doing next Saturday?”
Justin’s eyes narrowed, three little lines appearing between his eyebrows. When his gaze shifted to her, she tried to signal him to agree to nothing. But there was only so much she could do as Russell watched.
“We could use someone with your talent at the wedding and reception. And that song you just sang—maybe you could play that as Natalie walks down the aisle.”
“Um …” Justin, so rarely at a loss for words, crossed his arms, stretching the soft cotton fabric of his shirt, and she couldn’t help but recognize it as the same one she’d cried all over earlier that week. He watched her for a long second, and she shook her head quickly as Russell walked away.
“Please.” She mouthed the word more than spoke it, but he couldn’t miss her meaning.
“What happened to Ruth Allen? Why isn’t she playing the wedding march?”
Russell tilted his head back, surely admiring the gorgeous wooden beams and the cathedral ceiling. “The church burned down.”
Justin jumped. “It what?”
“Not all the way,” Natalie rushed to add. “But there was a fire at the altar. The piano, stage, and cross are completely gone. We can’t have our ceremony there.”
“So where are you going to have it?” Even as he asked it, his face shifted into something that looked an awful lot like horror.
She cringed.
Russell noticed nothing. “Here. We can set up rows of chairs over there.” He pointed to the back of the barn. “We’ll say our ‘I dos’ and then start the party. No need to change locations. It’ll be easier on everyone.”
Except her and Justin.
He wiped away the abject revulsion that had been plastered across his face. With a curt nod, he forced a smile. When he met her gaze, there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes, but it didn’t stop him. “I’d be happy to play your wedding. I’ll call some friends, and we can have a proper party.”
“Sounds great.” Russell clapped Justin on the shoulder. “Ever think about doing something more professional with music?”
Justin shrugged. “Sometimes
.”
“We should definitely talk after the wedding.”
It hit Natalie with the force of a hurricane. Her wedding would be his audition.
The best part of Canada Day was the food and fireworks. So far Justin had been able to enjoy neither. The hamburgers tasted like sawdust, and the corn on the cob was even worse.
Or maybe it was him. Even the kids were devouring the potluck meal set up in the church parking lot as a last-minute fund-raiser, which they all hoped would be enough to repair the building that had been around for as long as anyone still alive.
But the repairs wouldn’t come soon enough. They couldn’t be done in time for Natalie’s wedding.
He was going to have to go through with playing for her. At least if he performed well enough he might be able to make one of his dreams a reality. Even as he watched the other walk down the aisle toward another man.
He spit out a bite of hamburger and shoved his paper plate in the nearest trash bin, thankful for the cover of darkness. Small pockets of people from the community had gathered in their lawn chairs to thrill at the fireworks, which were about to grace the sky. But he wanted nothing to do with that. Nothing to do with any of them.
Suddenly he bumped into a beefy arm, and he jerked back. “Excuse me. I’m sorry.” When he realized who he’d run into, Justin finally offered his first real smile of the day. “Harrison. Good to see you.”
“Justin Kane, what are you doing wandering around out here all by yourself? You told me you were staying home.”
He’d expected a greeting from the diner owner, and the high-pitched scolding caught him off guard. “Mom?”
She appeared around Harrison’s far side, one hand resting on his elbow. She wagged a finger in Justin’s direction. “We would’ve brought a chair for you if you’d told us you were coming.”
We? Us? His throat suddenly felt like he’d swallowed a porcupine.
“We only brought just the two. But there’s room on the ground over by the water if you want to sit with us.”
