When she didn’t answer right away, Neil spoke again. “I do have two requests if you take the job. One is that you attend church with me on Sunday.”
“Sunday?” Olivia said.
“Yes,” he said simply. “And the other request is that you wear my mother’s ring. That way everyone will know we’re engaged and talk will spread.”
Olivia nodded. She felt rather in a daze. The next thing she knew, they were back in the flower garden near the bench.
“Mrs. Kevay—” Neil began.
“Stella,” she corrected.
He nodded. “Stella, could I speak with Juliet alone for a moment?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll wait at the stable.”
When Stella was out of earshot, Neil turned to Olivia. “Would you sit down, Juliet?”
Olivia sat on the bench, then scooted over when he made a move to sit beside her. He reached into a small pocket of his vest and took out a ring. With the ring lying on his upturned palm, he said soberly, “Juliet, will you accept my. . . proposition of becoming my wife for a year?”
He smiled gently at her, and it took all her acting ability not to melt on the spot. She had to look away from his captivating dark brown eyes that seemed to dance with a golden spark. The sun winked through the branches of the sugar maple, turning the color of his hair from dark brown to honey gold.
She’d never met a man she wanted to propose to her, even though a few had alluded to it. She rather wished this were real, that she and Neil had met under different circumstances.
Staring at the beautiful diamond ring, she had that trembling feeling again along her spine. She knew that some-times one could get caught up in a play or a book and it seemed real. That’s what this felt like, as if she were really a prospective fiancée of a handsome doctor. That’s what she was supposed to feel. That was the job.
Job. That’s what she must dwell upon. She would be committed for a year, and then she’d have her freedom. No more fights with her father. She could live her life as she pleased.
She swallowed hard. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Your left hand, please.”
She untangled her left hand from her right one and held it out. The touch of his fingers did to her hand what that tremor had done to her spine. With his slight push, the ring slipped over her knuckle and seemed to be a perfect fit.
Olivia looked long into his eyes, feeling warmth travel through her body and settling in her face. She lowered her gaze to the ring. Her hand was against his as if he were holding it for her to see the sparkle of the diamond. She didn’t know how it was possible to feel like two people. One was happily engaged to a handsome, appealing doctor. The other would pretend to be married to the doctor, but it wouldn’t be real—just a job.
Wasn’t that what acting was all about—being yourself and also being a different character? The trouble was that at times she began to feel she didn’t know which one of her was the real one and which was the actress.
Neil let go of her hand, and his voice invaded her con-templation. “Thank you,” he said solemnly and stood, squint-ing as he lifted his face toward the sky. “I’m beginning to think this is God’s will for my situation.”
Really? Olivia wondered at that. Then maybe God wasn’t as stuffy as she had thought.
nine
“I’m not even going to think about the haste of this, Neil,” his grandmother said after Juliet and Stella left in the wagon and he told his grandmother that he and Juliet were engaged. “I trust your judgment, and from all I see of Juliet, she is lovely.” She smiled. “And that Stella is a delight. I really like her. I think she’s very smart.”
“Really?” Neil didn’t say he thought so, too. But he got the feeling that Stella was in control of this whole situation and not he. But, on second thought, shouldn’t a mother be the controlling one in a situation where her daughter would commit herself for a year to a man as his wife of convenience? He could only hope, when the year was out, she would not try and make trouble.
Right or wrong, he was committed, and his grandmother was happier than she’d been in a long time. That’s what he wanted.
His grandmother took hold of his sleeve. “I know you had to bring Juliet to the inn, and both of you feel she can be content here. I suppose you see now that Kathleen wasn’t the girl for you.”
Neil nodded. If a woman could not understand his obli-gation to his grandmother and his responsibility to care for her in her own home, then she wasn’t right for him.
On Sunday morning, Neil stood in the churchyard with several men, including Samuel and Bart. Many people walked, and some came in wagons and others on horseback.
He’d told Stella and Juliet, before they left the inn, that the church he attended was back from the first road before driving into Sunrise. There was a village, and the church would be obvious by its position on an incline and the steeple on its roof.
He was reluctant to mention his engagement to the men around him in case Stella and Juliet kept the ring and never showed up again. If so, he couldn’t report it to the authorities. Who would believe such a story?
He felt a sense of relief, and shame for having doubted, when they drove up in the wagon. “My fiancée,” he said.
“I expected as much the other day.” Samuel gripped his shoulder. “She’s a beautiful young woman.”
Bart laughed. “I knew it when I saw the sparkle of that ring on her finger. But I wasn’t going to say anything till you did.”
Neil reached up and took Juliet’s hand to balance her as she stepped down. She was not dressed as finely as Kathleen would have been. But she looked respectable and quite smart in a conservative dark blue suit and a light blue blouse. She wore a pert blue hat with a dark bow at one side. Many of the women would be more plainly dressed. He was not embarrassed to present her as his fiancée. Besides, anyone who looked into those arresting eyes, which he tried not to do too often, would find her—as Samuel had said without exaggerating—beautiful.
He took Stella’s hand for her to step down. She was wearing a large hat decorated with big, colorful flowers. Her red curls peeked out beneath it. Her green suit, the color of grass, was rather fancy, too, but no fancier than the bank president’s wife or the wife of Mr. Johnson who owned the general store in town. She was just. . .more colorful.
How could he ever have thought these women were plain?
Well, they had been, but after his conversation with Stella, she had said she knew how to dress her daughter like a city girl. She did indeed, and not so anyone could find fault as far as he could see.
He held out his arm. Juliet tucked hers around it, and they walked together toward the church door. Others were looking, and some whispers stopped as they passed. He nodded and thought Juliet was smiling, with her head slightly bent, looking appealingly modest.
After they entered the church, he led the way down the single aisle, then stood aside for Juliet and Stella to sit in the pew where his grandmother was already seated.
“That’s a lovely hat,” Stella said, moving to the end of the pew to sandwich his grandmother between her and Juliet.
“It’s fine for an old lady,” his grandmother said. “Mine’s quiet though. I like the way yours speaks.”
Neil heard Stella ask, “What does it say?”
“It says, ‘I’m a leader, and I want to live life to its fullest.’ ”
“Are you a psychologist?”
“No. Just a wise old woman.”
He liked the way his grandmother and Stella related. His glance fell upon Juliet who glanced over at him and smiled as if she had been thinking the same thing. Then her cheeks looked rosier and she looked down at her hands. Of course, she wouldn’t be thinking what he was thinking then—that it was amazing how the expression in beautiful eyes tended to reach into the soul.
Trudy Simms began to play hymns on the piano, the sign for everyone to come inside and be seated. Soon Pastor Whitfield stepped up onto the raised stage an
d stood behind the podium.
As always, he welcomed guests and asked them to stand for introductions. Samuel’s family, on the left side of the aisle, stood. So did Neil, Juliet, and Stella.
After Samuel expressed his delight at again being in the area, Neil turned slightly, since they were on the fourth row from the front. “I’m pleased to introduce Miss Juliet Kevay and her mother, Stella Kevay, from Canaan Valley. And I hope Milton back there will reserve us a table for lunch at his restaurant.”
“Out of my control,” Milton shot back. “You’ll have to talk to the waitress.”
The people laughed, but he saw nods from the members as they looked at Juliet and Stella. He’d been to many big churches in the city and had visited the bigger one in town, but he preferred this informal, friendly kind of worship place where he’d grown up. Most were simply folks with big hearts.
“I know we’re all glad to see Mama McCory back with us,” the pastor said. Several amens followed.
Neil shared his hymnal with Juliet, but she didn’t sing. His grandmother didn’t stand, and he thought it was nice of Stella to remain seated and share the hymnal.
Neil listened carefully to the sermon, wondering if God might have a particular message for him about what he was doing, but he heard nothing that confirmed or condemned.
After the service, it seemed all the women came up to welcome Juliet and Stella and to tell his grandmother how good it was to see her at church. He escaped to the front yard where he received congratulations.
Later, when he entered the restaurant with the three women, he discovered Milton had gone ahead and reserved a table for them. He particularly gushed over Mama McCory. “It’s good to see you here again,” he said.
“I feel like a new woman, Milton. The engagement of my grandson has put new life in me.” Others came up to the table to speak and be introduced. If the whole town didn’t already know of his engagement, they would know before sundown.
Later, at the inn, Neil checked his grandmother’s heartbeat and thought it sounded stronger. But she was tired and wanted to rest.
He asked Juliet and Stella to make wedding preparations. He would come to Canaan Valley as soon as he could, possibly the following afternoon, to discuss the plans for him and Juliet to be married in Stella’s cabin.
After the two women left, Neil felt he had done this before with his ex-fiancée. They had talked of marriage and her living at the inn. When it ended, he’d felt jilted, and from the reactions of those who knew him, they thought he had been, too. They were all right.
This time he would be legally bound for a year. Then after a year there would be an annulment that would look to others like a divorce. Although he didn’t like the stigma of divorce, it would be easier because he’d planned the whole thing out.
This time emotion wasn’t involved.
This time. . .it wouldn’t hurt.
❧
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The pastor smiled at Neil. “You may kiss your bride.”
Olivia reminded herself she wasn’t really going to melt in the arms of her husband. This was act one, scene one in a play called You’re Now Mrs. Dr. Neilson Streun McCory. Olivia turned toward Neil and felt his hand lift hers, which now felt heavy with the weight of the wedding band he’d slipped on her finger. She felt his breath and then the touch of his warm, firm lips against the top of her hand.
She lowered her hand, and the only thing she could think to do as a wife was to lift the bouquet of marigolds to her nose. Stella had thought of flowers at the last minute. She’d picked them from her bed by the front steps and tied them with a strip of white ribbon.
The pungent odor of the marigolds, thankfully, over-whelmed the musky aftershave she’d caught a whiff of when Neil had kissed her hand. She needed to keep her wits about her, and that scent seemed to steal them away.
She must surely look the part of a shy maiden as Neil expressed as much. “Pastor, we prefer our kissing to be done in private.”
Olivia dared not look at Neil. She stared at Stella and saw the gleam in her aunt’s eyes. She glanced at the pastor’s wife whose face had turned a deep pink as she fidgeted with pulling on her gloves.
The pastor glanced at his wife with wide eyes, then coughed lightly and said, “Um, yes, well, I can appreciate that. Young people nowadays are getting too forward. But it’s a part of the ceremony. The kiss means a joining of the soul, so to be married in the sight of God, it would be a good idea. We can look the other way.”
They all turned away. Olivia visualized kissing Neil and lowered the bouquet of marigolds. Oh, he would think he was kissing a skunk. Why hadn’t Stella picked wildflowers? Slowly, she lifted her face toward his and then her gaze.
His eyes met hers for an instant before she saw a furrow form where his eyebrows almost met. He looked over her head. “We’ve. . .finished,” he said after a long moment.
Finished?
The pastor turned toward them. “Congratulations to the bride and groom.” He walked over to the coffee table and signed the marriage certificate. His wife and Stella signed as witnesses. “I suppose we’re. . .about done here.” He looked from Neil to Stella and back to Neil.
“I’ll walk you out,” Neil said.
After the sound of wagon wheels and horses’ hooves faded, Neil opened the screen door and stepped inside. He walked over to the table, looked for a moment at the license, and picked it up. Glancing at Olivia, he said, “Thank you again, Juliet. Stella. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way to the convention in Wheeling. I will call and leave a message at the general store if I need to get in touch with you. If you need me—”
“Yes,” Stella said, “we know how to reach you at the Wheeling Hotel.”
“Juliet”—he faced her—“you are legally my wife, and I will do my best to be a good husband.”
“Thank you,” Olivia said. “For the. . .job.”
His words, “I’ll return on Sunday,” were accompanied by his retreating footsteps, soon followed by the sound of Sally making a hasty retreat after he unhitched her from the carriage.
Walking to the door, Olivia watched until he rode out of sight. Her husband would ride to the depot, take the train to Wheeling, and attend a medical convention. He had said he wanted particularly to visit with the heart specialists whom he had consulted about his grandmother’s stroke and weakened heart.
She wondered if he would rent a carriage there or if he would hire an automobile. Had he ever driven an automobile? She didn’t know a lot about this man she would pretend to be married to for a year. Something in her wanted to. Would he see Kathleen while there? If so, would he tell her about his marriage? Would he be sorry he’d done this?
Stella’s voice brought her back to reality. “Throw those marigolds in the yard,” she said. “They’re pretty, but they sure can stink up a place.”
Olivia removed the ribbon from her wedding flowers—yellow and orange marigolds. She threw them—not to a bridesmaid who hoped to be next to fall in love and marry—but into the yard where they would fade, wither, and die.
Returning, Olivia sat on the couch beside Stella and read what she’d already read twice that morning—the contract entitled “Marriage of Convenience.”
The agreement was much like Neil had outlined in the newspaper ad and when he had talked with them that first morning at the Canaan Valley Restaurant. “It will be annulled after a year,” she said, “and I will return the rings to Neil.”
Stella didn’t open her eyes. “This sounds like you’ve landed a good job, Olivia.”
Olivia felt as drained as Stella looked. They’d both had a hectic few days, making arrangements for a wedding. Olivia hadn’t wanted to wear white, so she wore a simple fawn-colored skirt and matching blouse that they felt was befitting one being married in the morning at home in a simple ceremony. Stella had gone far up the mountain to find a preacher she thought would not know her or would not have heard of Dr. Neil McCory.
Thinking Stella might be asleep, Olivia murmured, “Well, I guess I’m on my honeymoon.”
All of a sudden Stella opened her eyes. “I have an idea. Let’s go celebrate your marriage—I mean, your job. We can have lunch in town.” She looked tenderly at Olivia. “I didn’t rope you into something against your will, did I, Olivia?”
Olivia thought. “Maybe at first, but I could have backed out at any time, and you did keep saying that. There’s an upside and a downside to this.”
Stella sat straighter. “What’s that?”
“One,” Olivia said with a feeling of joy, “I can send a telegram to my father and tell him I have taken a job and am able to make a life for myself.” She felt her smile fade, and she pursed her lips for a moment. “The bad part is I’ll be leaving you to go and live in Sunrise.”
Stella patted her arm. “We’ll be closer than when you were in the city and going to college. Also, I didn’t feel too welcome at your father’s home. But we can see each other often at the inn. Now”—she rose from the couch—“let’s hitch Not-to-Be to that carriage and go paint the town.”
“But. . .what if someone from Sunrise sees me? I’m supposed to be with Neil on my honeymoon.”
Stella scoffed. “Not to worry. Who would ever recognize you in the blond wig that’s been lying useless in that trunk for way too long?”
Olivia was glad to laugh. She hadn’t done much of that lately. “I need to wash my hands. The marigold smell is driving me crazy.”
She went into the bathroom, and the light caught the gleam of the diamond ring. She stared at her hands, outstretched. Neil McCory believed she was his wife. He had kissed her hand. “Stella?”
Stella came to the doorway. “Yes, dear?”
Slowly her head turned toward her aunt. “I’ve had a few boys kiss me. But I never felt anything. . .special. Can kissing. . . really be like that?”
“Depends on who you’re kissing.” Stella patted her shoulder. “Obviously, you haven’t kissed the right person.”
A Bride Idea Page 6
