The Bridal Veil
Page 28
He honored her with his body and spirit, with urgent, whispered words, the promise of a lifetime full of tomorrows. Pushing her to her climax, he held her while she wept his name and convulsed beneath him. Then he sought his own release and solace in her.
At last, when they lay spent and exhaustion was about to claim them, Luke rolled Emily to her side and pulled her snug up against his torso so they matched like spoons.
“We’ve had our share of disasters around here, haven’t we?” Luke commented. His whisper lifted the hair at her nape. She snuggled closer. His arms tightened.
“More than our share,” she returned. “What are you going to tell Rose?”
“What I should have told her in the first place—the truth. At least as much of it as I think she should hear for now.” He put a kiss on her bare shoulder. “You were right all along, Emily.”
“I wish that I hadn’t been.” She interlaced her hands with his. “If Cora hadn’t known, you would have been safe to let things stand.”
“Yeah, and I should have known better. She threatened me a couple of times over the years that she’d tell Rose I’m not her father.”
“What will you do about her, Luke? Will you still let Rose see her?”
“For now, Rose doesn’t want anything to do with her, and who can blame her? Cora’s idea of love is a twisted thing. If Rose changes her mind later, we’ll talk about it. But as far as I’m concerned, our relationship with Cora Hayward is finished. She could have gotten you and Rose killed today.”
The truth of his statement sent a chill through Emily, and they fell silent for a moment.
“I think the rain is finally letting up,” Emily said at last. It wasn’t pounding against the glass anymore. She felt Luke’s lips against the back of her neck.
“That’s good,” he murmured, and then she heard the sound of his slow, even breathing and knew that he slept.
“Yes, it is. It’s all good.” And Emily released her hold on wakefulness to join her husband.
EPILOGUE
“Can anyone present show just cause why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony?” From his place on Luke’s front porch, Reverend Ackerman directed his question at the assembly of people gathered in the Beckers’s front yard behind Emily and Luke. It was a beautiful day in late June—this was just about the time it stopped raining around here, Luke had told Emily. Birds twittering in the trees were the only response to the reverend’s question.
“All right, then.” Ackerman led the wedding couple through a traditional ceremony for a wedding that was anything but. “Luke, the ring—”
Emily’s heart sank. She hadn’t been able to find her wedding band again after she took it off and put it on the table that awful day. Luke had said nothing about it, but she knew he must have noticed that she wasn’t wearing it.
Now he took her hand and pushed a beautiful wide, gold band onto her ring finger. She looked up at him, surprised, but he just winked at her.
“ . . . vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. Luke,” he nodded at the groom, “kiss your bride.”
Luke lifted Emily’s fine silk veil, then took her into his arms and gave her a brief but heartfelt kiss. The neighbors behind him cheered and applauded.
Emily laughed, even as tears streamed down her face. Their neighbors crowded forward to wish them well, but Jennie and Chester Manning led the group. “I haven’t seen a bride so pretty since I married my little gal, here,” Chester said, pecking Emily on the cheek. “Luke, congratulations! I’m glad we all lived to see this day.”
Luke pumped his hand and clapped him on the shoulder, overwhelmed by the feeling of support and belonging with his neighbors that he’d never known before. “Thanks for everything, Chester. Everything. I owe you the life of my wife and child.”
The farmer looked embarrassed. “Oh, damn it, Luke. I was just payin’ you back for saving my family last year. That’s what neighbors are for!”
“Yeah, but you got the town council to replace the bridge and pay for my lumber, you organized this wedding and got everyone to help with building the henhouse. God, that’s more than any man could ask for.”
Chester waved off any more thanks. “Now you just have some of Jennie’s fried potatoes and enjoy your day. But watch out for the punch—I think old Jobie might have spiked it with that white lightnin’ he makes up there on the mountain. So of course, I’m having me a taste of that.”
“Not too big a taste,” Jennie warned, overhearing this. “I don’t want any more broken legs around our house, after that fall off the barn roof last year.”
“I wasn’t drinkin’ that day!” Chester protested.
“No, and look what happened,” she teased. She pressed forward to take Emily’s hand. “You look beautiful.”
“I felt a little odd about wearing my teal dress with this veil, but I think it’s all right.”
“Of course, it is. Lots of brides are choosing wedding dresses that they can wear again, anyway.”
“You are beautiful, Mama Em.” Rose stood beside her, lovely in her restored dress and carrying a small nosegay, as befitted the maid of honor. Her hair was tied back with Emily’s pink satin hair ribbon. She learned from Rose that Cora had made her return the gift when Emily had given it to her. Emily was happy that it now belonged to Rose.
And they had decided that “Mama” must always be Belinda. But “Miss Emily” was too formal and having a child call her by her first name was unacceptable to both Luke and Emily. So they decided on Mama Em as a compromise, and everyone was happy with it.
“Thank you, Rose.” She leaned over and pressed her cheek to the girl’s. “Someday you’ll wear not only this veil, but the dress that goes with it as well, if you want.”
“Ohh, really?” Rose beamed.
“Yes, when you find a man as good and kind as your father,” Jennie said, tipping a smile at Emily.
“Everyone—” Chester raised his voice to be heard above the crowd. “We all know why we’re here today—to see these fine folks married off right, and to build them a new henhouse. So let’s eat our wedding breakfast and get to work. Afterward, the Duffy brothers will provide the dancin’ music, and we might be able to coax our fine ladies into feeding us supper, too.”
Everyone sat down to eat at the tables that had been set up, much like the ones that had been used at the church social.
It was a wonderful day, full of toasts and good wishes and more happiness than Emily had ever known in her whole life. She had a husband who loved her, a fine daughter, and good friends. If she had asked them which fork went with a seafood cocktail, she doubted any of them could have told her.
And what a relief that was.
~~*~*~*~~
That evening after everyone had finally gone home, Luke and Emily settled on the front porch to watch the sunset and gaze upon their new henhouse. She had a cup of tea and he had a glass of whiskey. They were tired and happy, mindful of the past and excited about their future.
“Wasn’t that nice of Fran Eakins to give us the paint and the chickens for the new henhouse?” Emily asked.
“Considering what a miserly, sour pickle that woman is, I’m surprised she did it.” He took a sip of the whiskey.
“Luke!”
“Well? Weren’t you surprised?”
“Well . . . yes,” Emily admitted, grinning. “She was sweet on you, you know. She wanted to marry you. So did Clara.”
“God, what a thought, to be sitting here with either of them now instead of you. One of them staring at me from under those beetle brows, and the other congratulating herself and fishing for compliments.” He shuddered.
“No, I wouldn’t have liked that either.”
“So do you like your wedding present?” he asked. He’d given her two matching rocking chairs for the front porch. “You don’t think they make us seem like old people, do you?”
“Of course not.” She pushed hers into motion. “Besides, I plan to be here when I’
m old, too. I’ll still need a place to sit on the porch.”
He leaned over and gave her a whiskey-flavored kiss that reminded her of the first night they made love. She inhaled the fumes and deepened the kiss, which he responded to in kind.
“Hmmmm, Mrs. Becker, I believe you’re trying to seduce me.”
She giggled. “What, me? The innocent old-maid etiquette teacher from Chicago?”
He dropped another soft kiss on her mouth. “Not an old maid anymore. Oh, before I forget—” He leaned over and picked up a roll of paper next to his chair. It was tied with a pretty blue ribbon. “This is Rose’s wedding gift to us. She gave it to me just before the Mannings took her home to their place for the night.” He handed the roll to Emily and she took it with the same reverence as she would a valuable museum piece. She knew what it was.
“I’ve seen this paper before. This is what my dress material came wrapped in. Rose asked me for it because she thought it would be good for drawing.” Emily slipped the ribbon off the tube and unrolled the paper. “Oh . . . ” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Well, would you look at that—”
The scroll, which was about seven feet long, was a history of the Becker family, beautifully drawn by Rose. Emily remembered how angry Cora had gotten when she found this. It began with Luke and Belinda holding hands in front of the house, and then Rose joined the picture. It progressed depict to Belinda’s grave in the hillside cemetery, and Cora joined the picture. Then Emily came along. It ended with Emily, Luke, and Rose standing in front of the house, the oak tree gone, and Cotton’s grave in the background. Lucy scampered in a nearby meadow and a fat sun seemed to shine down on everything
“I didn’t know she could draw this well,” Luke marveled.
“I did. I saw her work when I first got here.” She told him about the Bayeux Tapestry and how it had inspired Rose to create this scroll. “If she wants to pursue art, I think we should encourage her, Luke.”
“You’re the teacher, Em, and an amazing woman besides.” He kissed her again. “But you were wrong about one thing.”
She chuckled. “What, just one?”
“Yeah, so far.”
She poked him with her elbow. “And what was I wrong about, so far?”
He gave her a tender smile. “You didn’t need that bridal veil to make you beautiful, honey. You just needed love.”
Emily’s throat closed, and she knew he was right. She had the love of a grand man and a wonderful daughter. If she had beauty now, they had given it to her.
And it was the best gift she’d ever received.
XXX
About The Author
Alexis Harrington has been writing and publishing fiction since this book, Homeward Hearts, first appeared in print in 1994. She lives in the Pacific Northwest, on the green side of the Cascade Range.
Contact Alexis:
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Table of Contents
The Bridal Veil