When Ian heard Claire’s car pull up, he stopped cleaning the shovel and listened, pulse racing.
A car door opened and closed, then the car backed round and left.
He went back to cleaning. Lord, just one last chance to change her mind, that’s all I ask. Just one. He forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing, even though cleaning garden tools didn’t require much thought. He’d lost track of how many times over the last twenty-four hours he had pulled out his mobile and began to ring Claire’s number.
And how many times he had sensed the need to wait.
So I guess this is the part where I lean on You. Ian scraped the mud from the shovel and put the tool away. Then, one by one, he cleaned the rest of the tools and put them back in their places.
The back door opened and slammed against the house, followed by the patter of rapid footsteps.
Ian dropped what he was doing and ducked out of the shed.
Emily stood at the honeysuckle with her back to him, trembling.
Adrenaline surged into his chest, sent his heart pounding. Steady, MacLean. Don’t blow it. Ian let out a slow breath.
There would be no burst of passion this time, no raw emotion, just a solemn promise. If she refused again, he’d press her no more. He’d let her go.
As he walked toward Emily, she turned round. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.
He stopped a few feet from her.
She searched his face. “Did you bring this here? From the woods?”
“Aye.”
Emily stared at the flowers, then up at her bedroom window. When she faced him again, she whispered, “Why?”
He shrugged. It was an impulse, a flash of inspiration. “Thought you’d fancy it.”
She stared at him for a long moment, eyes glistening. “I love it. I can’t believe you did this, Ian.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Thank you.”
A lump formed in his throat that stung when he swallowed. “Emily, what you said to me the other day, beneath the bridge ... you were right. I can’t be your strength. Or mine.” He shook his head. “I can’t hold us both up. Not on my own.”
Her tears spilled and trickled slowly. She brushed them away with a trembling hand.
He took a deep breath. “I want you to know I’ve given this plenty of thought. I remembered how God once helped me overcome things I couldn’t on my own. He gave me strength before, and I believe He will again. You don’t have to be afraid for me, love. I’m putting my life in God’s hands. I’ve been praying and trusting Him. And I’m going to keep praying every day for the strength to face whatever comes. And not just what you have to face, but everything. I believe that’s what He wants from me. He’ll provide what we need to get through each day. Like manna in the desert.”
She gasped. “Manna?”
He sought her eyes, her heart, and hoped she could see into his. “I’ll look to Him every day, one day at a time. That’s all I can do. I mean, that’s what I will do. I promise.”
Emily’s face was unbearably difficult to read.
He drew a shuddering breath. “I love you, Emily. Nothing will ever change that. So if you’re not going marry me, I just want you to know that no matter where you are, I will always—”
Wait—was she nodding?
Something squeezed his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
Emily took a step toward him.
His arms opened for her as if on cue, but like an idiot he just stood there, heart racing, numb with disbelief. “You’ll marry me?”
She slipped her arms round his waist and rested against him. “If you’re willing to stand in the fire with the Lord’s help, then so am I.” She raised a tearful, little smile. “I love you, Ian. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Relief flooded over him like a tidal wave, nearly knocking him down. He crushed her close and held her tight.
Thank You.
Eyes closed, Emily savored his embrace. She would hold onto every moment, every second from now on.
Ian pulled back a fraction and looked into her eyes, his arms still encircling her. “You’re sure?”
Emily met his gaze. “Yes. Absolutely.”
His focus went to her lips. He cupped her face with one hand and bent his head slowly.
Emily closed her eyes, every nerve tingling with anticipation.
His lips touched—
A blaring car horn made them both jump and turn toward the drive.
Claire slammed her door shut and marched straight for them. Behind her, Maggie and Grace fumbled to get out of the car.
Ian groaned.
“Well, and what’s this?” Claire reached them, eyebrows cocked as high as they could go.
Maggie’s door slammed. “We were not lost! I know my way round my own farm!” The old woman stomped to the other side of the car where Grace was getting out.
Aunt Grace called out to Emily, “Ooh, dinna fret, lassie. We went for a long walk, but then Claire came and said we’d gone far enough.”
“Aye.” Claire grunted. “The old hens were halfway to Stirling.”
When the older women reached them, Ian said, “Aunt Grace, Maggie, Claire; Emily and I have something to tell you.” He grasped Emily’s hand. “We’re going to be married. As soon as possible.”
Claire’s mouth formed an O.
Maggie chuckled.
Grace sent a dazed smile around the circle. “Who? Who’s getting married?”
“Ian.” Maggie’s smile turned her cheeks into rosy mounds. “And yer bonnie lass.”
“Och, a wedding!” Claire squealed. “I’ll start a guest list.” She grabbed Ian’s arm. “Ian, you’ll have to find a way to bribe Kallie into wearing a frock. Maggie too, for that matter. I’ll help Emily find the perfect one for the wedding.”
Maggie’s smile fell. She sputtered and coughed. “Ye’re not putting a frock on me.”
“There’s going to be a wedding, dearie,” Aunt Grace said. “Ye can dress up this once.”
“No.” She crossed her arms and shook her head.
“What shape is that cottage in?” Claire asked Ian. “Oh, never mind. It does no good to ask a man. I’ll take care of it. We’ll fix it up cozy for you two.”
“The cottage?” Ian said.
Claire snorted. “Well, what else? You’ll be newlyweds. You didn’t think you were going to live in the house with those two, did you?”
“Aye, they can have the cottage,” Maggie said. “And that eejit telephone.”
“But is it big enough for the wee bairns?” Grace asked.
Claire turned a worried glance at Emily.
Emily frowned. “Bairns? You mean kids?” She glanced away to hide the disappointment in her face. That was a topic she and Ian would discuss, and it wouldn’t take long. Having children was out of the question.
“Well, let’s not get ahead of things,” Claire said quickly. “First things first. We need to set a date. Ian, find out what you need for a marriage license and see how long that takes.”
“Two weeks.”
Everyone fell silent and stared at Ian.
He cleared his throat. “I checked.” He met Emily’s gaze. “Do you have a birth certificate?”
“It’s at home. I’ll have to get my dad or Jaye to send—” Emily gasped.
“What is it?” Ian asked.
Dad. How could she tell him she was marrying Ian after everything he’d said?
“What’s wrong?” Claire laid a hand on Emily’s arm.
“I have to tell my dad,” she whispered.
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll tell him,” Ian said quietly. “I’d like to speak to him.”
Emily shook her head. “He’s dead set against—” She glanced at Aunt Grace and shot a meaningful look at Ian. “He’s not going to give his blessing.”
“Do you need it?” Claire frowned. “Is this some sort of American thing?”
Emily lowered her voice. “It’s more than that. It’s complicated.”
“Och, how hard can it be?” Claire snorted. “Let me talk to him.”
Emily bit her lip and looked to Ian.
He turned to his sister. “It should come from me. Man to man.”
“Fine.” Claire shrugged. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.” Her eyebrows shot up and she smiled at them both. “Emily did. Maybe it runs in the family.”