by Delia Latham
In that instant, the vague thought she’d refused to entertain until now crystallized in her mind.
This was not a marriage. Despite his current behavior, Chandler deserved a wife who was willing to be one in every way, including in his bed. And she could not, would not live with an alcoholic—especially one who became violent and mean under the influence. But now wasn’t the time to say anything.
“I’d like to go to bed now, Chandler. I’m tired.”
“Sure, babe. Bring me my coffee, then you go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.” His bray of laughter was ugly and suggestive, but Norah detected a little less steam in his response. “I’d say it’s high time you grow up and be a real wife.”
She bit back a gasp. Had he read her mind? Well, whatever he planned, it wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. The thought of his touch tied her stomach into a thousand tiny, painful knots.
Although everything in her cried out for a barrier between them, Norah left the door open. Even if she locked herself in, the flimsy house guaranteed scant safety. Chandler could easily break down the door, but if he had to do that, he’d be furious. Then what kind of punishment would come her way? No, best not antagonize him.
James had given her a small pocketknife when she started working at the Hangout. “I don’t like you walking home at night by yourself. Keep this on hand, okay? Do it for me. And Norah—if you have to use it, don’t hesitate. Protect yourself.”
She slid the little weapon under her pillow and lay in bed, rigid and wide-eyed. Lurching footsteps crossed the room from the kitchen. Chandler must’ve finished his coffee. God, if You’re listening, please don’t let him come in here. I don’t want to use this knife, but I will if I have to.
Ruidoso
Norah sighed.
“Okay, Lord. Your Word says there’s a time and a purpose for everything. This must be the time for me to go down Memory Lane. As for the purpose, I suppose You have a good one, or You wouldn’t put me through this. I’ll try to bear these reflections with grace. Give me strength, Father. Please…give me Your strength.”
She closed her eyes, resigned to ciphering through unwanted memories. Instead, she drifted into a peaceful sleep.
~ Chapter 6 ~
N
ORAH STARED INTO A FULL-LENGTH mirror in Shay’s bedroom. She hardly recognized herself in the exquisite white wedding gown, unlike anything she’d ever dreamed of wearing, for any reason. The dress belonged to the woman who’d been her friend from the night she arrived in Ruidoso—almost from the first moment. And now, with love and enthusiasm, Shay had stepped into the role of a surrogate mother.
She’d called this morning and invited Norah to lunch. When she arrived, Shay led her into the bedroom, where the dress lay across the bed.
“What is this?” Norah turned a puzzled glance on her friend.
“It’s a wedding dress, silly.” Shay ran her fingertips over the fabric. “Mine. I had it cleaned because I hoped you’d love it as much as I did on my wedding day. It’s yours, honey, if you like it—and if it fits, of course.”
“What? No, Shay, I can’t—”
“Shhh. Just try it on, okay? Do it for me.”
She should’ve found a way to refuse—because, now that she’d seen the shimmery reflection of a fairy tale princess she barely recognized as herself, she couldn’t imagine being married in anything other than this breathtaking dress. Still…
“It’s beyond perfect!” Barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t have found anything more beautiful if I’d searched the entire state. But I can’t accept it, Shay.” Norah forced the words as she slid her hands along her slender waist and down the curve of her hips, loving the silky feel of the fabric. The dress might have been tailor-made for her. “You’re so kind, but…it’s your wedding dress—women keep them forever.”
“Sometimes they do, that’s true.” Shay nodded. “But I never planned to. I kept it so I could pass it down to the daughter I was sure I would have but—well, you know the story. God’s plan did not include me being a mother.” She stepped close and drew Norah gently into her arms. “Honey, I can’t imagine loving a child I bore and birthed any more than I love you. As far as I’m concerned, you are my daughter—even if I’m not really quite old enough to be your mother.” She laughed softly. “Our heavenly Daddy gave us an unmatchable family bond. Can you think of a stronger bloodline than that of Jesus Christ? Please, sweetie…accept this gift. Seeing you wear my dress down the aisle would bless me more than you can possibly know.”
Norah blinked back a flood of emotion. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks when someone tapped at the door. Shay opened it and Penny rushed across the room.
“Oh…my! I don’t think there’s been a more beautiful bride in the whole history of brides!” After a few moments of heartfelt oohs and aahs, she stepped close and curled Norah’s fingers around a small object.
Curious, she opened her hand and gasped. “Ooooh! This is gorgeous!”
She held a delicate, jeweled hair clip. Glittering stones in every shade of blue imaginable caught the light and turned the hair jewelry into a miniature light show. Norah handled it with great care, as the piece clearly wasn’t new. Nor was it inexpensive.
“My mother loaned me this clip to wear at my wedding.” Chuckling, Penny took it from Norah’s fingers and eased it into her thick tresses. “She said it ‘killed three birds with one stone,’ being not only old but also borrowed and blue.” She stepped back to study the effect. “Mama gave it to me before she died. She said, ‘Loan it to someone you love on their wedding day, daughter. Maybe it’ll bring them the same kind of happiness you have with Bob.’ So, sweet Norah, would you please borrow my hair clip to wear at your wedding?” Blotting the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, Penny sniffled and then smiled. “Because that’s what I wish for you and Dylan…all the happiness your hearts can hold.”
The ladies’ love overwhelmed her. Norah gave in and let the tears stream. She opened her arms and wrapped them around the two kind-hearted women who had shown her the love of Christ and treated her as a true friend when she had no one else. “Thank you—both of you. I don’t know why God saw fit to place you two in my life, and I can’t imagine where I’d be today if He hadn’t.”
“Does that mean you’ll accept the dress?” Shay swiped impatiently at her own weepy eyes.
“Yes, Mama Shay. I’d be honored.” She giggled through her tears. “Besides, I’m not sure I could make myself take it off if I thought I wouldn’t get to put it on again.”
“Where’s your veil?” Penny asked.
“Oh, that’ll be the ‘something new.’ I found one I really liked when I was looking at dresses the other day. I didn’t see any point in buying it until I knew what dress I’d be wearing. I can already see it looking fantabu-awesome with this one.” She grinned at her friends’ dazed and confused expressions. “And when Dylan lifts it off my face, this beautiful hair clip will blind everyone with its glitter and glitz, so I won’t have to worry about having an audience when he kisses me.”
Penny laughed. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll distribute sunglasses to the guests.”
Shay turned Norah around and started undoing the tiny buttons down the back. “Help me get her out of this, Penny. I’m hungry, and it’s way past lunchtime.”
“Me too.” Penny slipped the hair clip out of Norah’s hair and tucked it into a small box.
Norah’s tummy joined the conversation with a loud grumble. She blushed, eliciting a burst of laughter from her friends.
Penny fell to her knees and started working on the buttons from the bottom. “I’ll meet you in the middle, Shay. Let’s get this bride something to eat. If we let her get sick before the wedding, I don’t know what my brother-in-law might do to us.”
* * * *
From the day they confessed their love to each other until he left Ruidoso, Dylan courted Norah like a man on a mission—and he was. They had to fit everything into an im
possibly short time frame to manage a wedding before he returned to Afghanistan, but that didn’t mean Norah should experience any less excitement and joy in the journey than any other bride.
To his surprise, she hadn’t kicked up a fuss about getting married on the fast track.
“I want to be yours in every way before you leave.” She was transparent about her feelings, and Dylan loved that about her. Norah had nothing to hide. Why would she? The woman was pure goodness and love.
As much as he appreciated those things, guilt ate at his soul. He wasn’t worthy of her, not in every way. One night as they walked a well-worn path in the woods behind Shay and Gary’s house, he brought up a difficult subject.
“Sweetheart, I truly wish I could say I’d never been with another woman. Why do young people not realize that they’re giving up something so precious when they have intimate relationships before they’re married?” He stopped and turned to look straight into her eyes. “Can you forgive me, knowing there have been other women before you?”
She shook her head and touched a finger to his lips. He grabbed both of her hands and kissed each fingertip—slowly, one at a time.
Norah whooshed out a breath, clearly unsteady. “You expect me to talk, after that unfair assault on my senses?” She smiled straight into his soul. “I don’t have to be your first anything, my love, as long as I’m your last everything.”
“You will be, Norah. Why would I ever want anything more than the angel God gave me?” He hesitated. “What about you? Will I be…your…first?” Not that he’d love her any more or less, whatever her answer—but these were things best talked about before the big day.
She caught her breath, closed her eyes and stood still…so still…for a long time. He sensed the need to be quiet until she answered.
“This won’t be easy to understand. Yes, I’m a virgin. But I have slept with another man.” She shot him a quick glance, clearly taking in his utter confusion, and a wry smile lifted one corner of her lips. “It’s a long story. I’ve made my share of mistakes, Dylan…but not that one.”
He struggled for breath. “You’re absolutely perfect, Norah.”
“No, I’m so far from that.” She sniffled. “When I came to Ruidoso, I was a sixteen-year-old innocent, totally lost, and so angry at God. It took Shay and Hoss a long time to get me to visit their church. I wanted no part of a God who’d allow so much pain and suffering. But they kept praying and inviting me to go with them to Sunday services. They constantly shone the light of Christ into the darkness of my life. And finally…well, light overcame darkness, as it always does.”
She drew a deep breath and met his gaze without wavering. “Jesus forgave me for all my past stupidity. I hope you can too, Dylan, because I have never loved another man, not with my whole heart, soul, and body.”
He pulled her close against his chest and spoke into the soft strands of hair near his lips. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’re mine now, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to deserve you. The past is…the past. Let’s leave it there, yours and mine. Shall we?”
“Yes. We’ll start our lives all over, together.”
“That we will.” He gathered her closer still, already aching at the thought of leaving her. “How am I going to live without you for two years?”
“The same way I’ll survive without you. With a lot of tears and even more prayer. You focus on staying alive until you’re free to come home to me. You hear me, Dylan Bradley?”
He hated the tremor in her voice, hated that he could do nothing to make her feel better, more secure, less anxious.
“Coming home to you is all the reason I need, sweetheart. I’ll be living for that moment every second until then.”
“And so will I.”
He lifted her chin with one finger and lowered his lips to hers. Dear Lord, they were soft and sweet! God, give me strength! I so don’t want to leave her.
The next day, he bought the house he’d driven by every day since he’d come home on leave. He’d even given in to a strange urge and requested a tour of the property before he ever met Norah. He found himself completely at home within its walls. While not huge, and not showplace perfect, the cozy house exuded charm. White, with soft blue shutters on the front windows, the wood-framed structure boasted a wide, wraparound porch. The upper floor held the master bedroom and bath. A small room, probably intended as a nursery, adjoined the big one. Downstairs, another two bedrooms lay behind a great room, a formal dining room, and a beautiful farmhouse kitchen.
The structure sat on five acres of mostly wooded property. Within those trees, a piece of the same creek beside which he and Norah shared their first kiss sang and danced its way along a path chosen by nature. The creek cinched the deal. Dylan used the money he’d inherited from his father to purchase the place. He’d be more content in Afghanistan knowing Norah had a home of her own and imagining her within its walls.
By the time he returned to active duty, Norah would be his wife, living in his wedding gift to her. His heart assured him she’d love it as much as he did.
And he loved her…so much he thought leaving her would kill him.
* * * *
Two weeks before Dylan’s scheduled return to duty, they were married. Neither of them wanted a large crowd. They invited family, close friends, and a few church members that were special in some way to either or both of them.
James arrived that morning, four boys in tow. They’d grown so much Norah barely recognized them. She hugged them all, hard and long. The youngest, Franky, barely remembered her. He’d been two when she left. The child shied away, but she pulled him close despite his determined wriggles and planted a loud smack on his chubby cheek. He promptly rubbed it off, and Norah laughed and released him. She’d missed her nephews.
“The little guy stayed at home.” James referred to the baby they’d been expecting when Norah left Echo City. “So…Quinn asked her mother over for a spur-of-the-moment ‘girls’ day.’” He shook his head. “We both know what that’s about.”
Norah chuckled but didn’t respond to her brother’s uncharacteristic, veiled reference to his wife’s lack of motherly instinct. “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back for a visit. I would love to meet little Joey.”
“He’s quite a kid.” James caught Franky before he could knock over a vase on Norah’s small dining table. “Quinn sends her congratulations. She didn’t quite…feel up to traveling.” A telltale flush of red climbed up his neck and into his face.
“It’s okay, James.” She tiptoed to kiss his cheek. “I understand. Really.”
At the church that afternoon, with the boys squirming on a pew between Penny and Gary, Norah and her brother shared a private moment while waiting for her cue to start down the aisle.
“You look so much like Mama.” James ran one thumb down her cheek. “She was always such a beautiful woman.”
“Do I?” Norah blinked. “Don’t make me cry. I’d hate to scare Dylan away before I get to call him my husband.”
James laughed. “I don’t think that young man’s going anywhere without you.” He shook his head. “It does your old brother’s heart good to see you so happy.”
“I’m even happier because you came, old man,” she teased. “Hoss would’ve played the role, and I’d have been grateful for his kindness, but it wouldn’t have been the same.”
James gave her a one-armed hug, careful not to muss her hair or the lovely white gown. “This is the only place in the world I would choose to be today. Right here, walking my little sister down the aisle to a man she loves, one who knows what a treasure he’s getting.” His voice roughened. “It’s time for you to be happy, Norah. More than anyone else I know, you deserve this—a good man, a good marriage. Everything. You deserve it all.”
“Hey, I haven’t had it so bad, big brother. I had the most amazing parents ever, and then I had you—the best brother in the world.” She stepped free of his embrace and smiled through her emotion. “And now I
have Dylan. He’s my whole world, James. I’ve never been happier.”
“I know. I see it in your eyes.” He hesitated, and she narrowed her gaze. What was on his mind now? “You, uh…you did get that annulment finalized, didn’t you?”
She laughed softly. “I did, and I have the paperwork safely stowed away. I promise today’s ceremony won’t make me a bigamist.” She didn’t add that the annulment had been approved on two grounds: underage marriage and inability to consummate the union.
The organist played the familiar loud, unmistakable chords. The time had come.
James offered his arm. She slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow and gave it a squeeze.
“Ready?” He whispered.
“So ready.”
“No doubts?”
“None.”
“Then come on. Let’s get you to the altar.”
As they reached the door, James stopped. “What’s this?” He removed a small, velvet pouch someone had hung over the doorknob.
Norah grinned. “See what’s in it. If Dylan put it there, I want to see it before I meet him at the altar.”
“It feels empty but let me look.” Her brother loosened the string, opened the pouch and pulled out a raggedly torn and folded piece of paper.
A knot formed in Norah’s stomach. Dylan would never write her a note on something so untidy.
James scanned the note, crumpled it and stuck it in his pocket. He grinned at Norah. “Oops, I read a note that wasn’t meant for you. Come on, let’s get out there before Dylan thinks you jilted him.”
He wasn’t telling her everything. Norah sensed it, but she didn’t want to know anything more. Not now. She wanted no part of anything that might spoil the happiest day of her life.
She drew a deep breath and shoved the grimy note—whatever its message—out of her mind. “I’m ready.”
They stepped out of the small room and stopped for a moment at the back of the church. The guests stood and turned to watch the bride’s aisle-long journey to her future.
