ARKANSAS WEDDINGS: THREE-IN-ONE COLLECTION

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

The image of Wade putting the gun to his head chilled her soul.

  “The doctor said if he survives, he’ll be a vegetable. I’m glad he won’t be able to hurt anyone else. I know I shouldn’t think that way, but I can’t help it.”

  Part of her agreed with him. The other part still grieved the man she’d once loved. A weight settled across her shoulders.

  A key clicked in the lock and Mark stepped inside. “There you are, Grayson. I just left Grace. Your folks are there. They’re all worried sick about you.”

  “What about Dayne?”

  “Asleep. He doesn’t know what’s happened. They figure it’s your call.”

  “I went to tell Sara’s parents.”

  Mark winced. “Bet that was tough.”

  “I can’t get Helen off my mind. I should be with her.”

  “She’s worried about you. Her sister made it in and Wade survived surgery. He’s stable.” He glanced at Adrea. “June talked Helen into going home until morning.”

  “I’ll call Grace, so she won’t worry.” Adrea headed to her room. “I should have done that already, but I’m not thinking very clearly.”

  “Adrea,” Grayson called.

  She turned to face him.

  “Thanks.”

  She nodded then left the men alone.

  Rachel sat on her bed, cell phone in hand. “Here she is. I’ll call you later.”

  “Go on home, Rachel.”

  “That was Mom. They just got out of church. They want to be sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.” Grabbing a yellow satin and lace throw pillow, she hugged it to her stomach and plopped down beside her sister.

  “Did Grayson leave?” Rachel put an arm around her shoulders.

  “No. Mark’s home. I left so they could talk.”

  “What a mess. I never dreamed it would be Wade.”

  “Me neither.” Adrea laid her head on Rachel’s shoulder.

  Parked in the hospital lot in Little Rock, Grayson sat with Sara’s white Bible clutched against his chest. He turned to the familiar indentation between two worn pages. The white rose Sara had insisted on taking to dinner that night, forever preserved. The white rose Sara had died holding, placed to mark her favorite Bible verse. With tear-blurred vision, he couldn’t read it. He knew it by heart. Isaiah 41:10.

  “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

  He longed for peace beyond all understanding, but it didn’t come. He cupped the white rose in the palm of his hand, careful not to damage the dry crispness.

  How he’d delighted in her joy at each arrangement. Other women would probably take the roses for granted. But on each occasion, Sara’s pale blue eyes sparkled; she’d trace his jaw with her fingers, and reward him with a kiss.

  Pressing his fingertips to his lips, desperate to recall the feel of her that last day, his chest tightened.

  He slammed his fist into the dash.

  A car door shut beside him. His deacon, Tom Deavers, waved, sympathy shining, then headed in Grayson’s direction.

  Grayson waved back with a forced smile. He was sick of sympathy. He didn’t want sympathy. He wanted his wife. He wanted to smash his fist into the face of Wade Fenwick, who’d stolen Sara from him. Too spineless to come forward. Until now. Just when I’ve begun to heal.

  Gripping the steering wheel, white knuckled, he forced himself to step out of the vehicle. “I was hoping you’d still be on duty. Can I see Wade Fenwick?”

  “Visiting hours ended at eight o’clock.” Tom looked suspicious.

  “I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

  Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Follow me.”

  Inside, they took the stairs, then corridor after corridor, to ICU. Grayson had sat with numerous families in this very waiting area.

  “You can go in, for a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Grayson hurried down the hall.

  No family, no medical personnel. Wade was alone with a machine helping him breathe. His chest inflated and deflated, with a jerky, mechanical whoosh. The overwhelming desire to ram his fist into the helpless man’s swollen face gripped Grayson. Visions of movies where the bad guy unplugged the ventilator played in his imagination. His fingers flexed as he surveyed all the tubes and wires.

  Sobbing, Grayson sank to his knees. “Dear Lord, he killed Sara. He ruined my life. He ruined my son’s life. Oh God, help me. Forgive me. Help me to forgive.”

  Chapter 7

  Just as Adrea finished dressing the next morning, she heard a knock and hurried to answer.

  Grace leaned against the door frame, tears flowing down her cheeks.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” Adrea hugged her and drew her inside.

  “I’ll get you something to drink,” Mark said.

  Grace pulled away from Adrea and flew into his arms.

  Adrea quietly exited the apartment.

  With a few moments to spare, she drove by the church. As usual, Grayson’s car was there. The upheaval in his life didn’t change his calling.

  She made her way to the office and found him, slumped over his desk, facedown. For a moment, she thought he was asleep, but he raised up.

  “I thought I heard someone. Sit. What can I do for you?”

  With his world blown apart, still he wanted to help others.

  “Can’t stay long.” She claimed the chair across from him. “I’m on my way to the shop. Listen, I know you’ve got a lot going on and I can’t imagine how you’re holding it together.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ve been dealt quite a blow. But Helen needs you. Last night, she was worrying about being able to face you. She mentioned changing churches or maybe moving to her sister’s.”

  Grayson looked heavenward. “I got here at five o’clock this morning and have been praying for strength to go over there. I think I’ve steeled myself.”

  “You don’t have to be strong for her. Maybe the two of you need to cry together.”

  He nodded.

  Other than telling Dayne that Sara was dead and going to the funeral, this was the hardest thing Grayson had ever done. Helen was probably blaming herself and he wanted to be strong for her, but right now, he didn’t have a strong bone in his body.

  In Helen’s drive, he sat for a long time. The flower beds and grass weren’t perfect as they’d once been. Green vines grew wild, jumping their borders. Dead plants jutted among the blooming bushes. Maybe someone from the youth group could help with her yard.

  The kitchen light flicked on. With a quick prayer, he got out and walked to the door. Before he could knock, she answered. He’d never seen such anguish in another person’s eyes. The sobs started and her whole body shook. Afraid she might collapse; he picked her up and carried her inside.

  “I’ve got you, and God has both of us. His strength will get us through this. Together.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening. Wade caused Sara’s death.” A wail escaped and she pressed a trembling fist to her mouth.

  He deposited her on the couch and settled beside her.

  “Our precious Sara killed by a drunk driver. And not just any drunk driver. My son.”

  Grayson didn’t know how to respond. He took her shaking hand in his. “Dear God, get us through this.”

  An hour later, he drove Helen and June to the hospital. Upon their arrival, Mark and Grace sat in the waiting room. As the afternoon lengthened, various members of the congregation trickled in. The deacons and Sylvie Kroft, of course.

  It almost felt like Sara had died all over again. People patted his shoulder, offering comforting whispers.

  Helen sat ramrod straight, not a crinkle in her composure. How did she do it?

  “Mrs. Fenwick.” The doctor’s face was grim. “I need to speak with you.”

  Grayson didn’t think his legs would support him, but he m
anaged to stand and help Helen to her feet. They followed the doctor down the hallway.

  Saturday afternoon, Adrea exited the hospital with Helen’s hand tucked in her elbow. Grayson, made of steel, carried her suitcase to the car.

  Wade would move into a regular room in a few days, though he would never talk, walk, or function on his own. Even in a wheelchair, someone else would have to prop him there.

  Once outside in the bright sunshine, Helen paused at the bench by the fountain.

  The trickling water soothed Adrea’s frayed nerves. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “It’s been a week since I’ve seen the sun.” Helen gingerly perched on the bench. “I feel guilty. Wade will never enjoy the sun again.”

  “You have to go on.”

  “I know.” Helen’s watery blue eyes brimmed. “I’ve done it before. With my husband and my youngest sister. For some reason, I seem destined to end up alone.”

  Adrea sat and put her arm around Helen’s slim shoulders. “You’re not alone. You’ve got Jesus and a church full of people who love you.”

  “Shell’s only been to see Wade once.”

  Yesterday, Adrea had seen the blond girl at the hospital and had banished the memories that threatened to stir. “She’s hurting, too.”

  Helen’s piercing blue eyes searched Adrea’s soul.

  The moment of reckoning. She’d dreaded it for days.

  “He was drinking on the night of the accident because of me.”

  Helen clasped her hand. “No. We had him so late in life, and I spoiled him so badly, he never learned to handle disappointment. Wade was drinking because that’s what he did.”

  “But he’d been sober for two years. He started again because of our breakup.”

  “He gave you ample reason to call off the wedding. I love that boy, but I know exactly what he put you through and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

  “Neither did you.”

  The older woman scanned the azure horizon. “He told me he was going to turn himself in.” A sob caught in her throat. “Instead—this.”

  “I’m so sorry. I should have seen it coming.”

  “You tried to help him. He should have come forward when it happened.”

  Instead, he’d waited until everyone had made tentative steps to get on with their lives. Then he’d blown all efforts apart. Grayson knew the identity of the hit-and-run driver, and the knowledge forced him to relive Sara’s death all over again. Poor Helen. Even in a vegetative state, Wade was breaking his mother’s heart.

  Adrea’s hands clenched. She could almost hate him, until she thought of his torment when he’d confessed.

  “After he told me about what happened, I asked if he wanted to pray. He said, ‘Me and Jesus got it all worked out.’ ”

  Helen closed her eyes. A trembling smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “Thank you for being there for him.”

  Monday morning, Adrea stashed her purse under the counter in the workroom.

  “There’s some redhead tormenting the salesclerks.” Rachel propped both hands on her hips. “Said she knows you from church.”

  “Sylvie Kroft?” Surely not. She’s never bothered to darken our door before.

  “That’s her.” Rachel snapped her fingers. “I better go see if I can hurry her along before they lose all patience.”

  Adrea checked the computer for standing orders.

  June 2nd, what should have been Sara’s twenty-seventh birthday. Had it only been a few months since Wade had dropped the Valentine’s Day roses? Now, he lay in a hospital bed. Sara’s killer. Wade would never hold another beer can, never drive a car, and never hurt anyone else. She knew the news comforted Grayson, while he comforted Wade’s distraught mother.

  Nothing made sense. She felt like she was watching some surreal movie. The man she’d almost married, a shell of himself, all he’d ever be.

  She began working with the white flowers, the rose of innocence and reverence, and shed a few tears as she always did. As the arrangement took shape, she thought of Grayson, as usual, and his motherless son. No child should have to take roses to his mother at the cemetery.

  Adding more caspia, she turned the arrangement slowly around, looking for any other holes to fill. Would Grayson even remember the roses? Of course he would. He’d comfort Helen, take care of Dayne, and stroll in later. As if nothing were wrong, he’d personally sign the card and deliver the roses to the cemetery. Where Sara shouldn’t be.

  The showroom door opened, interrupting her thoughts.

  “I’m afraid the roses aren’t quite ready, Pastor Grayson.” Rachel backed into the workroom. “We weren’t expecting you so early.”

  “Could you keep an eye on Dayne, for just a few minutes?” Grayson sidestepped her.

  “Sure.” Rachel made a hasty retreat. “I’ll just be out front.”

  Grayson waited until the door shut to speak. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

  “The arrangement always makes me sad.”

  “You’re crying for Sara?”

  “And for you and Dayne. Since the accident, the roses always make me a bit somber. Even more so, now that I know the men she left behind.”

  “You cried before you knew us?”

  “Many times. It’s just so heartbreaking. I’d heard Helen speak of you so often. You had the perfect marriage and family. Then it all got ripped away. It’s not fair….”

  No need to tell him. Grayson knew firsthand just how heartbreaking and unfair his situation.

  “No, it isn’t. I appreciate your compassion.”

  Adrea added a whisper of baby’s breath to the spray. “They’re finished. I’ll help you carry them to the car. Are you parked out front?” She picked up the white roses.

  Grayson took the flowers but set them back on the counter. “I’m sorry I make you sad.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Are you parked out front?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Not worry about you.”

  His words robbed her of the ability to speak. Then she realized, it was the pastor’s job to worry about his flock.

  The showroom door opened to reveal Sylvie. “Fancy running into you here, Pastor. One of the salesclerks said you were here, just when I need a big strong man to carry my fern to the car. You wouldn’t happen to have another, would you?” Sylvie’s expression filled with pity. “Adrea dear, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. There should be two others out front. Unless they sold this morning. I can order more.” What’s she up to?

  “It must be such a shock.” Sylvie planted herself between Grayson and the door. “I mean, a mere two years ago, you were all set to marry Wade.”

  A sick feeling boiled in Adrea’s stomach. Her mouth went dry.

  Grayson shot her a concerned look.

  “Thank goodness you didn’t marry him.” Sylvie patted Adrea’s arm, as if she genuinely felt sorry for the younger woman’s plight. “I heard he fathered an illegitimate baby, but the mother took off. So I guess Helen will never see her grandchild.”

  Adrea cleared her throat. “Actually, the baby died.”

  “I hadn’t heard that.” Sylvie frowned, disappointment evident.

  Less to gossip about.

  “Sylvie.” Grayson used a warning tone.

  “It’s such a shame he reacted so badly to the breakup. Why, wasn’t Valentine’s Day supposed to be the wedding day?”

  All color drained from Grayson’s face. Adrea had expected the reaction, only it should have been after she told him.

  “Oh my, you don’t suppose our dear Sara got caught in the crossfire?” Sylvie gasped and drew a palm to her mouth.

  “I’ll escort you out, Sylvie.” Grayson took her by the elbow.

  She flashed a victorious smile at Adrea.

  An hour later, Grayson parked at the cemetery.

  Adrea’s car was already there.

  It didn’t surprise him.r />
  With each step, his shoes sank into the soft earth. He trekked the familiar path to Sara’s grave. From a distance, he could see Adrea kneeling, both hands covering her face.

  At his approaching footsteps, she mopped the tears.

  Noodle legs threatened to give way. Thankful for the shade of a sycamore tree, he sank to the white iron bench he’d bought last spring. “Tell me all of it.”

  “What’s the point?” She shrugged.

  “I need to hear it from you. I suspected you were once engaged to him.” Her eyes widened. “How?”

  “Before Wade went into Mission 3:16, he said something that sounded like more than you simply working for his mother. I knew he was engaged a few years back and that it fell apart, so with the incident at the shop, I put it all together.”

  She sighed, as if the weight of the Ozark Mountains lay heavy on her shoulders. “When I first started working at the florist, Wade was in Little Rock, drinking a lot and Helen constantly worried about him. By the time we met, he’d been in several rehabs, joined AA, and had been sober for two years.”

  A robin burst into joyous song, oblivious to the somber mood.

  “So she introduced you, a good Christian girl, to straighten him out.”

  Adrea nodded. “She invited me to tea at her house, and he happened to be there. Then, she tormented him until he came to a cookout at my church.”

  “And?”

  “Wade rededicated his life to Christ. He was like a different person then. Very charming. We had a lot in common and wanted the same things.”

  “You loved him?”

  “Yes.” Her tears came again. “We had such plans. Building a house, starting a family, all the things I’ve longed for.”

  “Why the breakup?”

  Adrea looked off in the distance, her eyes unfocused. “He wasn’t convicted on some things. After our engagement, he…”

  “What?”

  “He wanted to be…intimate, before the wedding.” A blush washed over her sensitive skin.

  “I see.” His stomach turned.

  “But we didn’t. I tried to show him the verses in the Bible about such things, but it’s like he didn’t want to see it.”

  “So, that’s why you broke up with him?” Relief bubbled through him. “Because he pressured you?”