Prince Incognito

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Oh, he was worth it all right. But was she?

  * * *

  The sun moved toward the western horizon and in the near distance on the square, the drum and fife corps warmed up for the evening march through town. Ashley slid the diaper bag onto the handle of Gabriel’s stroller while Chris lowered the baby into the seat. Her son chattered and kicked as if he’d been waiting all day for Christopher’s company.

  She could totally understand the feeling. On the days she didn’t see him, which were few, life felt flat and gray.

  In civilian clothes, as they jokingly called jeans and T-shirts, they headed out of the old section of Williamsburg, past William and Mary College toward modern Williamsburg.

  Ashley was playing with fire and she knew it, but like some kind of warped personality, she couldn’t seem to resist Chris’s gentle courtship. He didn’t push hard, but he did push. Showing up at odd moments to whisk her off for a stroll through the gardens or for a refreshing soda—or times like these when he came by after work with the offer to walk her and Gabriel to the town park.

  Dating was difficult with a baby tagging along and she figured that was a good thing. She didn’t date. Couldn’t date. But Chris never let Gabriel’s presence bother him. In fact, he seemed to enjoy her son. And to tell the truth, her heart melted at the sight of this big, strong but gentle man who gave her son the masculine attention he craved.

  Gabriel needed a father. A father like Chris.

  She shook her head to dispel the thought. Chris had asked for the summer and she’d give him that. She’d give herself that. But from there, they had no future. Here in Williamsburg for the summer only, he and his career as minister were safe from her sins. Outside this town, her mistakes were waiting like hungry wolves to hurt everyone.

  FOUR

  Ashley stood back to admire the glorious handcrafted dress she’d designed for the contest. Made of watered silk, only the wealthiest planter’s wife could have worn this in the eighteenth century. This was her masterpiece, and after weeks of painstaking work both in the shop and at home, the rich burgundy gown was completed.

  “It’s perfect, Ashley,” Milly said from her spot at the design table. “You’ve done an excellent job.”

  Ashley fussed with the lace sleeves. “Do you think it has a chance to win?”

  “As good a chance as any other.” Milly pushed her wire rims higher on her nose. “Are you wearing it to the Garden Party after the judging?”

  Ashley nodded. Each year on July Fourth, a garden party was held at the Governor’s Palace. Employees and interns were requested to attend in full colonial dress to create the perfect atmosphere for the tourists.

  “I designed a cute little suit for Gabriel, too.”

  “What about your young blacksmith?”

  “Milly, you are hopeless.” And so was she. Sometimes she wondered why God brought Chris back into her life now, when she’d destroyed any hope of them being together for more than the summer. “Christopher is not my anything.”

  “Well, he wants to be, so wake up. He’s a catch.”

  With a roll of her eyes, Ashley draped the carefully folded gown over the shade of Gabriel’s buggy and started out the door. As much as she’d like to talk to someone about Chris, about the terrible confusion inside her, Milly was not the person. Since Gabriel’s birth, she and her sister had been close enough to talk. Though Samantha was on a modeling assignment in South Africa, maybe she’d give her a call tonight anyway. She needed some advice badly.

  “Talk to you later, Milly. I have to get this dress up to the ballroom before five.”

  She pushed out into the muggy July afternoon with Gabriel fast asleep. Though the sun shone brightly, thunder rumbled in the distance like an empty train. Hesitating, Ashley cast a cautious eye to the clouds. Water would ruin the gown, but unless her entry arrived on time, she hadn’t a chance of winning. One disadvantage of Colonial living was the lack of modern conveyance at times like this.

  After a minute of indecision, she pressed on, hurrying down the street. Most evenings this week thunder had rumbled but they’d had no rain. Today would likely be the same.

  Three blocks into the walk, she was calling herself an idiot. The wind picked up and the sky darkened.

  A block later, fat drops of rain splattered the top of her head. Frustration and dismay mounted with each hurried step.

  After making certain Gabriel was covered, she flipped open her umbrella, held it close to the gown and pushed the buggy faster. Like always, she’d made the wrong decision and now she’d suffer the consequence.

  She glanced behind her, considered turning back. She’d already passed all the open businesses but the palace was still some distance. Wheeling around, she headed toward an eatery one block away and directly into the now driving rain. Everyone with any sense had already ducked inside the shops and open buildings. Leave it to her to be caught out in a cloudburst.

  Holding the umbrella like a shield, she pushed forward, blinded to all but the next step. By now, Gabriel was awake and howling. Water sluiced off the edge of the umbrella into her face, onto the buggy and the voluminous silk skirt.

  Tears prickled the back of her eyelids. Sometimes she hated herself. She could do the stupidest things. Even God must think she was stupid today.

  “Ashley!” Out of nowhere, Christopher appeared in front of her and in the next moment a canvas tarp blocked the rain.

  “Chris, what are you doing out in this?”

  “Rescuing the damsel in distress, I hope.” He guided them, tarp aloft like a giant kite, down the street and into the restaurant. “I’ve always wanted to add that to my resume. Minister, blacksmith, knight in shining armor. Kind of has a ring to it, huh?”

  Normally, his joke would have made her laugh and she would have replied in kind. Not this time. She was too busy hating herself.

  Once inside the old building, Ashley bent to soothe the startled baby and examine the burgundy gown. All the while, she fought tears. “I should have known better than to chance it. I’m so stupid sometimes.”

  Reaching around her to take Gabriel, Chris frowned. “Why do you do that?”

  “What? Tell the truth? That I’m a total mess-up?”

  “Everyone messes up occasionally, Ashley. Cut yourself some slack. No one expected a cloudburst. I sure didn’t.” He hitched his chin toward a table. “Come on. Let’s sit until this blows over.”

  She left the elegant dress draped inside Gabriel’s carriage. “This is probably ruined now anyway.”

  “Maybe not. But if it is, would that be the end of the world?” He settled into a chair with Gabriel on his lap. The baby snuggled into Chris’s chest and closed his eyes.

  “No, I suppose not, but I wanted to win that contest.” Still, Chris was right. It wasn’t the end of the world. A spark of the ridiculous struck her as she cast a baleful glance toward the water-sprinkled dress. “I learned one thing from this. Watered silk does not really need watering.”

  “That’s my girl. Turn that frown upside down.” The corners of Chris’s eyes crinkled at the childish rhyme. “Do you have anything else to enter?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing that has a chance. I designed a fancy outfit for Gabriel, waistcoat and britches, everything, but it’s not as elaborate as the gown.”

  “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

  She had little hope for winning now, but the contest was still an opportunity to get her work in front of interested people.

  “Well, maybe.” Her spirits lifted the slightest bit. Leave it to Chris to encourage her this way. No wonder she’d fallen in love with him.

  Her heart stuttered and stopped, then started again. She loved a man of God, a man who needed a perfect wife, a wife with a clean slate. She wondered if God was
angry at her for even considering such a thing.

  “There you go, then,” Chris was saying. “When the rain passes, if the gown is too damaged, we’ll get Gabriel’s duds and head on over to the palace.” He glanced out the window at the brightening sky. “I stopped by your shop to ask you about the Garden Party this Saturday. Maybe we could go together.”

  Ashley didn’t hesitate. She’d promised him the summer. And even though there was no hope for them beyond this, she wanted to be with him now.

  “Don’t we both have to attend anyway?” she said, teasing her way past the band of worry determined to strangle the joy of loving.

  One masculine hand slapped the spot above his heart. “Ouch. There went my ego. A few minutes ago I was your white knight.”

  He still was. Always would be. “Do you still want us to come to church with you on Sunday?”

  “Yes, and no backing out now. I’ve already told my friends that I’m bringing someone very special.”

  She had yet to hear him preach, though he’d asked her several times. This Sunday, a special Independence Day celebration was planned with fellowship afterward. The idea of meeting his congregation gave her the jitters but she’d promised. She breathed a secret prayer that no one in the congregation would recognize her name.

  * * *

  Within the walled confines of the Governor’s Palace, music from a stringed quartet lilted over the lush, green maze of boxwood and the vibrant flower gardens. Interpreters in fancy dress milled about, chatting eighteenth century business with one another and the guests who had paid handily for the honor of attending the formal party.

  Ashley wore the silk gown, and to Chris she was the most beautiful woman in the gardens. He knew she was disappointed about the contest and so was he. If she’d won, he could guarantee keeping her in Williamsburg for longer than a summer. Now, there was only one way to keep her here. She cared for him. He was sure of it, but each time he tried to move their relationship closer to commitment, she backed away. Something bothered her.

  He wished she’d trust him enough to confide in him. Somehow, someway, he’d break down the wall that separated them. He’d prayed all week about tonight and tomorrow, when she’d promised to attend church. He was certain once she met his friends and congregation, she would see how well she fit in, how much she could enjoy the life here, and how much he needed her at his side. Tonight and always.

  He took two glasses of foamy punch and moved through the murmuring crowd to her side.

  “Beautiful lady,” he said, offering a glass.

  “Flatterer.” But she beamed at the compliment. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.”

  He stroked four fingers over his embroidered weskit. “I happen to know the town’s best seamstress. She makes me look good.”

  “Really? And who might this talented lady be?”

  He leaned closer, loving the golden flecks in her brown eyes. “If you and your handsome son would care to accompany me around the lawns, I might be persuaded to tell you.”

  They both chuckled softly at the silliness and began to stroll the narrow pathways through the enormous gardens. When he reached for Ashley’s hand, she slid hers easily into his. Such a simple act and yet he loved holding her hand, touching her soft skin, being with her. He wondered if she had any idea how much her quiet laugh and gentle insights meant to him. When he shared his dreams, she encouraged and admired. When he shared his worries, she listened.

  Yes, he loved Ashley Harcourt, a girl some would call out of his league, but he knew God was the great equalizer. Their shared faith was enough.

  The palace gardens encompassed several acres and before he realized it, they were deep inside the elaborate holly maze.

  “A person could get lost in here.”

  “Would that be so bad?” he asked.

  Her smile was his answer, so they settled on a bench in a verdant nook and talked as night fell around them.

  Lanterns were struck and the flicker of gaslights lit the evening with a romantic glow. And they talked on.

  Chris felt a contentment tonight that had been missing in his life. Ashley and Gabriel gave him new purpose.

  “We can watch the fireworks from here,” Ashley said, “if Gabriel cooperates.” Though he’d been awake most of the evening, the baby now slept, his long eyelashes shadowed on chubby cheeks.

  “Sounds good to me.” The fireworks were on the palace green in front of the palace. “As far as I’m concerned we can stay here forever.”

  “Why, Mr. Sullivan. You would compromise my honor by keeping me out here alone forever?”

  Though Ashley joked, Chris didn’t. “No, ma’am. I’d never do anything to compromise you in any way.” He turned to face her, pulling her hands into his. “I was going to wait until summer’s end to do this, but I’ve been waiting for you for years. I love you, Ashley.”

  She touched his cheek. “I know.”

  He held his breath, waiting. Would she finally admit what he knew was true? That she loved him, too?

  Her answer came in a rustle of silk as she slid her arms around his neck and moved closer. Her soft breath mingled with his until he thought he’d die of waiting.

  “I love you, too, Chris, but—”

  He cut her off with a kiss. Tonight he wanted no buts, only the joyous knowledge that she loved him.

  FIVE

  Ashley awakened with a sense of hope so powerful she slid to her knees beside the bed and said a prayer of thanks.

  Last night, she’d told Chris all that was on her heart. For once, she couldn’t avoid the truth and hadn’t wanted to. He deserved to know how lovable and wonderful he was. So she’d told him. She’d told him how happy he made her and how he filled her heart with plans and hopes and dreams. She’d admitted how she admired and respected him and how much she’d grown in her faith just from spending time with him.

  And she’d pledged her love.

  Part of her wanted to laugh and sing and shout from the courthouse balcony the good news. The sensible part of her was scared silly. They were in love, and for now, that was enough. But would marriage be down the road? Could she take that chance? Chris kept telling her everything would work out, and he was so smart. Maybe he was right. Maybe she could move past her mistakes. Maybe God had forgiven her enough.

  Now, sitting in his church, she watched her love in the pulpit, saw his eyes twinkle when he looked her way, and felt more special than she ever had in her life. Pastor Christopher Sullivan loved her.

  When the service ended, he made his way through the small congregation to her side. Friendly faces gathered round to meet her. Though Christopher introduced her only as “my friend, Ashley,” the parishioners smiled knowingly. Anyone watching them could see they were in love. It shine from her eyes like noonday sun.

  Chris hoisted Gabriel onto one shoulder and placed his hand at her elbow, guiding her down a short hall to the fellowship room. A handful of church members ambled alongside, chit-chatting. Some discussed the sermon, others asked about Gabriel, and still others discussed yesterday’s Independence Day celebrations. They smiled and talked to her, not one of them suspicious or cold in any way.

  Ashley breathed a prayer of thanks for the warm welcome. Maybe the dream was possible after all.

  Ladies of the church bustled about setting out covered dishes and preparing the tables. Their good humored chatter blended with the clatter of pans and spoons and scraping chairs. Two teenage girls begged to play with Gabriel and carried him away like a special toy.

  With Christopher deep in conversation with one of his elders, Ashley stepped into the kitchen section where the warm scent of fried chicken hovered in the air like ministering angels.

  “This room smells fabulous,” she said and then laughed along with
the others, feeling better by the minute. “How can I help?”

  A redhead with glasses looked up from the oven. “You could start filling cups with ice. Or slice the pies and cakes if you’d like.”

  Ashley dove in, happy to be useful and accepted. “There sure is a lot of food here.”

  A grandmotherly lady with rosy cheeks said, “Sure is, honey. Pastor Chris has a thing about feeding the needy. Well, we all do, but you know how he is.”

  The other ladies looked at her with smiling speculation.

  “What Margie means,” said the redhead, “is this. After our fellowship, the real work begins. We pack carry-out trays, load up the van and take dinner to all the shut-ins we know of and the rest goes to the shelter down by the free clinic. Pastor does a lot of ministry work down there.”

  For half a minute, Ashley was transported back in time to the day of Gabriel’s birth at the free clinic. A cold wave of anxiety washed over her. Would Chris expect her to go down there? Would she be recognized?

  “Honey, you’re the color of wallpaper paste. Are you okay?” Margie took Ashley’s arm and guided her to a chair. A fashionable woman near her age, who’d said little, thrust a glass of iced tea into her hands.

  With a self-conscious laugh, Ashley said, “I’m all right. It’s just so warm in here.”

  “Hotter than the Fourth of July,” Margie joked, swiping at her brow. With the bit of humor, Ashley’s uncomfortable moment passed but she couldn’t shake the feeling that disaster waited like a crouching tiger.

  When the meal was served, Ashley, nerves still jittery, sat at a long, plastic-covered table next to Chris and picked at her potato salad. The fashionable young woman, whose name was Paige, sat across from them. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize Paige was interested in the handsome young pastor. A twinge of jealousy caught Ashley by surprise and she doubled her efforts to talk to the woman.