by Cora Seton
He’d been right; once you’d shared a mission and faced death with someone, you got to know them through and through. When she’d needed him, Clay had come as fast as he could. She now knew she could trust him with her heart—and her life.
She knew she loved him so much she’d never let him go.
As he bent to do so, she rose up on tiptoe and met him halfway, and knew they’d finally found the answer together. Neither one of them had to sacrifice to be with the other, or rather, they both did, equally. As long as he bent to satisfy her needs, she could rise to meet his. They could make their way through life’s obstacles together.
“I love you,” Clay told her when they finally pulled apart.
“I love you, too.”
He would hold her until the end of time, Clay decided. Nothing would pry Nora out of his arms. Not while she needed him. If only he’d realized sooner she wanted him close, he would never have left her side from the moment she was wheeled out of the operating room.
No matter. Nora was in his arms where she belonged again. Her stalker was gone. Together they could build the life he always dreamed of. Her reaction to the house he’d built was more than gratifying, but if she wanted to leave it behind, he would in a heartbeat, because nothing mattered except being with her.
“Clay?”
“Yes?”
“The deadline. It must be close.”
He nodded.
“When?” she demanded.
“Tomorrow.”
“Clay—”
He hated that she even had to worry about that. “It’s okay.”
She pulled back. “You found someone else?”
The pain in her eyes made him rush to assure her. “No. The others drew straws and Curtis got the short one. He’s agreed to marry… the woman Boone found for him. She’s coming tomorrow.” He hoped she didn’t ask more questions. Curtis was sacrificing far too much for him. Boone had waited as long as he could to give Clay a chance with Nora, and then they’d all scrambled in these final days to come up with another solution. Fulsom had backed off his threat to cancel the show over Clay blowing his deadline, given the circumstances, but demanded they draw straws to see who would take his place. When Curtis realized he’d be the one to take the fall, he didn’t even want to see the backup bride Boone had originally found for Clay.
“It’s not like I can refuse if I don’t like the looks of her,” he’d said. “Why bother suffering ahead of time?” He’d been a bear ever since, keeping to his tent most of the time. At least he hadn’t left.
It killed Clay to think the other man was taking a bullet for him this way, but they’d all discussed it at length and everyone had agreed that Nora deserved the chance to turn Clay down when she was ready—or to decide to marry him—rather than lose him to one of Fulsom’s deadlines.
Nora didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how long they stood that way, but when he became aware that she was trembling in his arms, he knew she’d pushed herself too far. Still keeping an arm around her, he led her to the bedroom at one end of the house, closed the door behind them and untucked the new covers with which he’d made the bed.
“Go on. It’s a lot more comfortable than your air mattress.” He sat her on the edge of the bed, undid her shoes and helped her under the covers. He had plenty of pillows to prop her up, and though the day was warm, he arranged soft blankets around her until she nodded, letting him know she was comfortable. “How about some dinner?”
“Don’t leave yet.”
He sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand. He was all too aware of a certain compartment within arms’ distance, in which sat a tiny, velvet box. This wasn’t the time. Nora was still too weak, too overwhelmed by what had happened. But someday…
“Ask me.”
Clay turned to her. “What—?”
“Ask me. Now.”
“But—”
“Do it!”
Clay wasn’t sure if he was interpreting the situation correctly, but his hand traveled to the door of the compartment as if of its own accord. He opened it, pulled out the little box.
“You’re still healing. You don’t have to—” he began.
“Yes.”
His heart lurched, then warmed. “I haven’t even—”
“Yes.” Her voice hadn’t been so strong since before the attack. Nora reached out as if to take the box from his hands.
He caught her hand in his and held it. “I’m going to do this right,” he told her, but joy flooded him, making it hard to speak. “Nora Ridgeway, I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you, but you spent the first two months we knew each other running as hard as you could in the other direction. I don’t know if I’m the man you deserve. I don’t know if I can make you happy, but I do know I’m going to try. Every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me. Nora, will you be my wife?”
She nodded, tears overflowing her eyes. His hands were shaking as he threaded the engagement ring over her finger, but Clay had never felt so sure of anything. “We’ll take all the time you need. This can be the longest engagement in history. I don’t care—”
Nora shook her head. “Now.”
“But—”
“Now. This minute.”
He looked around. “We don’t have a preacher, honey.”
“Get one.” Her face was pale, but a wash of color stained her cheeks. Her eyes were fever-bright. “Anything can happen,” she said. “Anything—in a split second. I don’t want to wait.”
“Neither do I.” But it wasn’t like he could—
“Clay, I mean it.”
She wasn’t kidding. Clay didn’t know what to do. He’d marry her—hell, he’d marry her right here, in their bedroom, if he could, but—
“Riley. Avery. Savannah. They’ll handle everything.” She slid down a little, pulling the covers higher. She was overtired. Still in pain. He knew that. Knew, too, he’d do anything to make her happy.
“Okay. I’ll talk to them. You get some sleep.”
Tucked in among the covers, she was so luminous, for one moment he was afraid he would lose her again, but when he reached for her hand again, her grip was strong. “Tell them what I said,” she insisted.
“Nora.” Her eyes clouded over as if she knew he was going to let her down. “Are you sure?” he finally said.
She nodded. “I want to marry you when I wake up. Promise?”
“I promise.” If he had to kidnap the minister himself he’d get it done. “I won’t be far.”
“I know.” Her eyes were shutting already. Clay pressed a kiss to her mouth.
Then he got to work.
Nora didn’t know how they’d done it. She didn’t care. To her friends’ credit, not one of them tried to persuade her to wait, or change her mind. When she woke up from the most refreshing nap she’d had since the attack, she found Riley, Avery and Savannah seated on the bed with her. Alice stood in the doorway, holding the most beautiful white wedding gown Nora had ever seen. Styled like one of her Regency gowns, it was delicate and wonderful, with simple lines and an elegant train.
“I made it myself. I hope it’s what you were dreaming of,” Alice said.
“It is. How did you make it so fast?”
“Once there was one wedding at Westfield, I knew there’d be more. I had it in reserve.”
Avery helped Nora out of bed, and they all took turns helping her into her gown. Riley did her hair in a chignon. Savannah did her makeup, and Avery put her veil on her head. When someone knocked on the front door to the tiny house, Riley hurried to answer it. She came back with a bouquet of early wildflowers. “Someone’s here to see you, Nora. Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
She thought Riley meant Clay—that he’d knocked because he knew he wasn’t supposed to see her before the wedding. Instead, Sue appeared in the doorway to the bedroom.
“We’ll wait for you in the living room,” Avery said, and the others withdrew. Uncertainty rippled
through Nora. Sue had been so angry the last time she’d seen her. What had she come to say?
Sue clasped her purse before her with both hands. She took her time to compose her thoughts, but Nora understood that was her way.
“PTSD.” Sue pronounced each letter distinctly. “My son had it. Walker’s father.”
It wasn’t what Nora had expected to hear. But she’d grown used to Sue’s roundabout way of getting to the heart of the matter. She could wait. “I thought he was killed overseas.”
“He was.” Sue was silent for so long, Nora thought that was the end of it. “Shot himself.”
Nora’s breath whooshed out of her. “Shot… Why?”
“It’s a bad disease. It’s a killing disease, if you let it. That feeling gets inside you—like you’re already gone. That’s what he used to say to me. ‘Mom, I’m already gone.’” She rubbed the fingers on her left hand. Played with her wedding ring. “I tried to tell him otherwise. Tried to show him all the reasons to live. ‘Look at your boy,’ I’d say.” She shook her head. “Wasn’t enough to hold him here.” She peered at Nora, as if making sure she understood. “What my son never understood was that when he went, he took us with him. He took our hearts.”
Nora nodded. She understood that. Understood, too, how close she’d come to leaving Clay and everyone else she loved behind. If it hadn’t been for her mother’s lecture when she’d woken up in that dreamscape between life and death, she would have left them behind. When Sue spoke again, it took Nora a moment to catch up.
“I distracted my grandson,” Sue said, her fingers tightening on her bag. “Walker was supposed to be watching you in that store, and I—”
“It’s not your fault,” Nora hastened to tell her. She couldn’t stand to see the woman hurting like this. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that the world contained enough pain for everyone without dwelling on the bad things that didn’t happen, or were already done.
“I should have come before.” Sue nodded vehemently. “That mother of yours. While you were in the hospital, she told me, ‘You go to my girl. You tell her to stay alive.’ I didn’t listen. I was too ashamed.”
Nora stilled. “My mother? But—”
“She’s a noisy one,” Sue said emphatically. “Day and night. ‘You tell my girl to stay.’ She thinks you’ve found a good man.”
“I don’t understand—” But it was so good to hear someone else talk about her mother. It made her seem not so far away. Nora had thought more than once about what her mother had said, that if she wasn’t going to fight, maybe she should accompany her right then. Instead she’d returned to her body—to life.
Which meant she wouldn’t see her mother again for a long, long time.
“That’s because you’re thinking like a white girl. We’re going to work on that.” Sue nodded again. “Work on that with all of you. Especially that Lightfoot one.”
“Avery?” Nora’s heart lifted. “You won’t stop her and Walker—”
“We’ll work on her,” Sue repeated. “See what’s what. There’s always another answer, just when you think you’ve gotten to the end of the answers.” She nodded toward the door. “It’s time.”
Nora took a deep breath. “Thank you. For coming and… telling me about my mother.”
“I like her,” Sue pronounced. “She and I, we get along.”
A tear slipped down Nora’s cheek. She had a feeling her mother was close, agreeing with Sue. “I’m glad. Sue—when I’m stronger… when I heal… The curriculum. I’d like to get back to work.” She hadn’t thought once about her novel, Nora realized, and the reason why was crystal clear. She was meant to write something else—and teach when the time came. While she waited for the children of Base Camp to be born and grow old enough to need a teacher, she was going to write a curriculum for them—for the next generation. She wanted Sue’s help.
Sue pulled a handkerchief from her purse and handed it to her. “Something borrowed. The work will be ready when you are. A lifetime of work.” She smiled, a rare gift that made Nora’s heart throb with gratitude. “Tidy up. Your man’s waiting.”
Nora did as she was told. When she looked up again, she was alone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‡
“We’ve had some fast weddings in Chance Creek,” Mia Matheson, Chance Creek’s one and only wedding planner, said as she climbed out of a truck driven by her husband, Luke, “but this takes the cake.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” Clay said, taking a number of bags from her hands. “What’s all this?”
“Hors d’oeuvers. Chips and dip, mainly. I grabbed them from the store on the way over.”
“Sounds fantastic.”
“We’ve got folding tables and dinnerware in the back. Ned will be here soon with another load. Everyone’s bringing something for the potluck dinner, so that’s taken care of. Do you have music?”
“We brought our digital playlists and a set of speakers.” Ella Hall bustled up, followed by her sisters-in-law, Regan, Sunshine and Heather. “Should we set things up here? Or will you use the barn again?”
“Here,” Clay told her. “I don’t think the party will go too late. We need to keep Nora close to home, so she can rest when she needs to.”
“Will do. We’ve got fairy lights. We’ll figure a way to string them up.”
Their husbands followed, laden down with more folding chairs and tables. Clay directed them where to drop them off. More trucks and cars were pulling up with each passing minute. When Boone and Jericho came to find him a little later, Clay had stopped setting up tables to watch.
“Looks like all of Chance Creek is going to be here,” Boone said.
“Pretty amazing, given they had barely an hour’s notice,” Jericho said.
“People around here know when something’s worth celebrating. Hey, I think that’s Reverend Halpern arriving right now.”
“I’ll go greet him.” Clay looked from Boone to Jericho. “Thanks for pitching in and making this possible.”
“I’ve known from the day you landed here you and Nora belonged together,” Boone said. “I’m going to go help the women with those lights.”
“I agree with Boone,” Jericho said when he had gone.
Curtis walked up, his arms full of folding chairs. He dropped them at Clay’s feet and clapped him on the back. “Here’s the man of the hour. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m forever in your debt.” He clapped his hand on Clay’s shoulder again and shook it. Tipping his head back, he yelled, “Drinks are on me tonight, everyone!”
A ragged cheer went up from everyone who was busy working to set up for the wedding.
“The drinks are on me, actually,” Clay said. “What are you going on about?”
“You saved my ass, man. I was due at the altar to marry some loser Boone caught trolling the Internet. But you beat the deadline. I’ve got forty more days. And I’m going to put them to good use. Starting tonight.”
He gathered up the chairs he’d dropped and staggered off.
“He’s happy,” Clay said.
“Come on,” Jericho said. “Those chairs aren’t going to set themselves up.”
“So what’s it going to take for Savannah to realize what she’s got in you?” Clay asked him.
“After what it took for Nora to see the light about you? I’m not sure I want to know.”
It gave Nora peace to think that her mother was here somewhere, watching over her as she took this important step, but as Nora left the tiny house flanked by her friends, she was all too aware of her father’s absence from her life.
She was just deciding that she was okay to walk down the aisle on her own since she’d come this far without a father, when Walker stepped forward from where he’d been leaning against the front of the house.
He crooked his arm and held it out to her. “Don’t know if you want me…after everything.” His deep voice rumbled with sincerity even as his sentence trailed off. No
ra’s heart filled all over again. She knew Walker held himself responsible for what had happened to her. So many people did. She hoped that would fade in time, because the truth was Andrew was the only one responsible, and who knew what demons drove him? He was gone, and she was safe. That was all that mattered.
“I’m the one who would be honored,” she repeated truthfully. She was soon grateful for the large man’s solid presence by her side as Riley, Avery and Savannah took their places in front of her, dressed in their best gowns, to act as her bridesmaids. They led the way toward the crowd—the enormous crowd—assembled on folding chairs in the closest pasture.
Someone had rigged an arch of flowers, under which Reverend Halpern stood. Clay stood in front of the makeshift altar, with Boone and Jericho beside him. Her husband-to-be’s handsome face was serious as he watched her step along the aisle left between the seats, leaning heavily on Walker’s arm, but when Walker handed her over to Clay, he smiled, and the happiness in Nora’s heart nearly overflowed.
“Thank you,” she mouthed to Walker, who took his place next to Jericho. Then she faced the reverend, clinging tightly to Clay. She trembled, but not from fear or any kind of trepidation about the life she was agreeing to. It was joy that filled her. Joy to be alive. Joy to be marrying the man she loved.
And joy to be cherished and nurtured by a community like the one that waited behind her for her to say her vows.
“Dearly Beloved,” Halpern began. “We are gathered here today…”
Clay squeezed her hand, telling her what she already knew. That he loved her.
That they would be together forever.
That she’d never be alone again.
“Should I tell our guests to go home?” Clay asked Nora several hours later, when he led her into their new home. Renata had stuck to the bargain he’d struck with her and kept her cameramen focused on the celebration when he and Nora slipped away. In return he agreed they’d do an in-depth interview about their relationship sometime soon. It was worth it to be alone with Nora now.
