Wedding Song

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by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  The day of the ceremony, the last day of August, the sun beat down as if to warm the hearts of anyone who still felt a trace of disappointment. Clouds white as new sailcloth puffed high in the sky for just a touch of contrast.

  Kerry had seen pictures of N;afotre Dame in Paris and St. Peter’s in Rome. She’d passed by the majestic St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York. But only the Eternity chapel gave her goose bumps.

  Perhaps it was the simplicity, she thought, appreciating anew the rough plaster walls lovingly whitewashed each year, the high narrow windows paned in diamond-shaped leaded glass, the plain yet graceful wooden pews. Perhaps it was the scent of history captured within these walls, or the legacy of freedom represented by the chapel’s days as part of the underground railway.

  Kerry wore her mother’s wedding dress, which had been altered in turn for each of the Muldoon daughters. She was vaguely aware that the introduction to the wedding march had begun and Rachel was starting down the aisle, followed by Maureen, who looked a little faint.

  Kerry entered the chapel on the arm of her oldest brother, Sean. The moment they walked in she came alive. Her heart beat wildly as her gaze traveled up the aisle and found Judd, magnificent in a gray morning coat. She saw the well-known face of Springsteen, but her attention immediately returned to Judd. The organist moved into the wedding march, and she started toward him.

  In her years with the Honeymooners she’d sung at countless weddings, watched hundreds of brides place their hands trustingly in those of hundreds of grooms. Yet here at the altar with Judd, the world was born again, and no two people had ever stood here with quite so much hope, quite so much joy, quite so much love. She trembled as she looked into his eyes and saw the same awe she felt.

  She and Judd repeated the time-honored words as if no one had ever spoken them, slipped a ring on each other’s finger as if the tradition began today. And as they gazed into each other’s eyes, she sang for him once more, choosing the last verse of “The Beacon,” and modifying the words to the shape of what she felt on this glorious wedding day. She felt him tremble as she sang, “Now my love, I’ve turned for shore, safe in your arms forevermore.”

  Then, in a heartbeat, they were man and wife, hurrying down the aisle to a wild ovation from family and friends. Zorba, Eternity’s newest resident, drove them to the reception, but they could have ridden with King Kong, for all Kerry knew. She was immersed in the depths of topaz eyes.

  “I love you more than you’ll ever know,” Judd murmured, touching her cheek.

  “You’ll have a long time to try and tell me,” she whispered back. “You are good and married, Mr. Roarke.”

  “That goes for you, too, Mrs. Roarke.” He kissed her gently, with a restrained passion that suggested a night ahead neither would ever forget. But first they had a duty to the crowds of people waiting to congratulate them.

  They stood close together in the reception line, often touching surreptitiously—brushing hands, elbows, shoulders—as they greeted the famous and the homegrown. The group was an eclectic mix of Fifth Avenue chic and Eternity casual.

  At last Aunt June had her turn. She took Kerry’s hand and held it firmly in her own. “It came to me,” she said.

  “What, Aunt June?” Kerry leaned forward, thinking she’d missed something.

  “The song. It does belong here. I’ve heard it before.”

  Kerry blinked, startled. “You have?”

  “Your great-grandmother Muldoon used to sing that song in her old, quavery voice. She insisted on singing it to you when you were a little thing, not more than two. She said somebody had to keep the song going, that it had been sung in Eternity for generations, but now people had forgotten the old songs for the new.”

  Kerry glanced up at Judd. “Can you believe that?”

  His eyes were full of love. “Can I believe you managed to restore that song to the town? You bet.”

  “What I’m trying to say is,” Aunt June continued, gripping her hand tighter, “that you did the right thing.”

  Tears moistened Kerry’s eyes. “Oh, Aunt June.”

  “You have a gift. We all know that. But only you can choose how to use it. I think you’ve chosen well.”

  “Thank you, Aunt June.”

  “And as for you, young man, I hear you play the saxophone.”

  Judd choked and had to take a few seconds to clear his throat. “Is that right?” he managed at last.

  “I expect to hear you play it soon,” Aunt June said. “Talent should not lie idle. We in Eternity don’t believe in hiding our lights under bushels.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Aunt June.”

  When she’d moved on down the reception line, Judd leaned over and took a tiny nip at Kerry’s ear. “You told,” he said in an undertone.

  She looked up at him with a sunny smile. “Actually, I discussed it once with Rachel, and she told. But you’d better get used to this sort of thing, Judd. People don’t have secrets in Eternity.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m the only one in this entire crowd who knows where we’re spending our wedding night.”

  Grubby Daniels came next in line and hugged Kerry. Then he shook Judd’s hand. “The Haven is a perfect wedding-night choice, old buddy,” he said with a grin.

  Judd groaned as Grubby walked away. “Bet you don’t know which room!” he called after him.

  Grubby just grinned over his shoulder.

  “No privacy,” Judd moaned. “None at all.”

  Kerry laughed and squeezed his hand. “Is that so very important?”

  He turned to her with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Guess not,” he said, sweeping her into an embrace. And as the crowd cheered, he kissed the bride.

  New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson’s love affair with cowboys started with the Lone Ranger, continued through Maverick and took a turn south of the border with Zorro. She views cowboys as the Western version of knights in shining armor—rugged men who value honor, honesty and hard work. Fortunately for her, she lives in the Arizona desert, where broad-shouldered, lean-hipped cowboys abound. Blessed with such an abundance of inspiration, she only hopes that she can do them justice. Visit her website, www.vickilewisthompson.com.

  Books by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  HARLEQUIN BLAZE

  544—WANTED!+

  550—AMBUSHED!+

  556—CLAIMED!+

  618—SHOULD'VE BEEN A COWBOY+

  624—COWBOY UP+

  630—COWBOYS LIKE US+

  651—MERRY CHRISTMAS, BABY+

  "It's Christmas, Cowboy!"

  687—LONG ROAD HOME+

  693—LEAD ME HOME+

  699—FEELS LIKE HOME+

  751—I CROSS MY HEART+

  755—WILD AT HEART+

  759—THE HEART WON'T LIE+

  775—COWBOYS & ANGELS+

  +Sons of Chance

  ISBN-13: 9781460375297

  WEDDING SONG

  Copyright © 1994 by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are re
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