Matrimony Valley’s first-ever bride could not have looked more beautiful. Or more nervous. Jean helped the maid of honor, Lucy, get Violet’s veil just right as she stood on the flagstone path just out of view of the gathered guests.
The past twelve hours had been a flurry of last-minute crises large and small—four vegetarian guests who’d “forgotten” to note their preferences on their RSVP cards, one bridesmaid’s dress that sustained a rip, two missed flights resulting in guests who wouldn’t make the ceremony but would arrive in time for the reception—and a monumental compromise from irises to tulips to lilies. Everything was as perfect as it was going to be to join the lives of Captain Lyle Davis and Violet Ann Thomas in front of the Matrimony Falls.
Josh seemed a bastion of calm Jean wasn’t entirely sure he felt. Then again, scrambling to make deadlines was part of what he did. He’d told her at last night’s rehearsal dinner that more than once he’d been onstage hyping up a product’s release, fully aware the engineers were backstage making a mad dash to ensure it all worked. None of that quite covered the guilt she knew he held for blurting out a truth that should have stayed hidden for another day, if not forever.
The regret softened him, turned him in tender attention to his stepsister. Jean watched him squeeze Violet’s hand with a surprisingly gentle affection in his eyes. “It’s easy from here. Even if twenty-five things go wrong, at the end of this hour you’ll be Mrs. Lyle Davis. That’s what you came here to do. Everything else is just fringe.”
Violet adjusted the string of pearls around her neck—a gift from Josh—for the fifth time. “Easy for you to say,” she quipped to her stepbrother. “I feel a bit sick. What if I trip?”
“I’ll be here to catch you,” Josh said, his voice smooth and reassuring.
“What if Lyle hates the dress?”
Josh grinned. “Speaking on behalf of every male in a five-hundred-mile radius, Lyle will not hate the dress. You look incredible. Your biggest problem might be getting him to speak or keep upright, you look so beautiful. Stop worrying. Let me walk you down this aisle to those beautiful falls where Lyle is waiting.”
With that, Jean stepped out to where the harpist could see her signal to begin the music. At the appointed cue, Jean sent the first bridesmaid around the corner and down the flagstone path toward the gazebo. Her heart swelled a bit at the oohs and aahs of the guests. The tilt of the morning sun perfectly hit the daisy-yellow bridesmaids’ gowns so that they fairly glowed. She knew the hint of sparkle in Violet’s gown would catch the sun with even more splendor. Josh was right; Lyle was in for a stunning first view of his bride.
One by one, each bridesmaid made her way down the aisle to stand opposite the row of dashing navy seamen in their snappy dress blues. At the bottom of the aisle, Lyle stood in dress whites with the same anxious-yet-thrilled smile that currently beamed under Violet’s veil.
While never meaning to, Josh stood out himself as the only civilian member of the bridal party in a white dinner jacket. Josh didn’t often wear suits, but when he did, the man looked astounding. Lyle’s astonishment had nothing on the breath that left her when she first saw Josh in his formal attire, or the glow that lit in her chest when he smiled just for her.
“Let’s go get you married,” he said in a gentle voice to Violet. “Just start walking and hang on to me.” With that, he pulled her gently in motion, and the pair turned the corner to begin their walk down the aisle.
Jean watched them pass, listening with grateful bliss at the reaction of the guests as the sun did indeed catch Violet’s dress and set it sparkling. She knew that somewhere behind her, a host of valley residents were spreading tablecloths, setting tables and plating hors d’oeuvres. Yet another last-minute brigade was likely shuttling lily centerpieces to Hailey’s Inn as fast as Kelly could assemble them. Poor Kelly probably had gotten less sleep last night than she had, and that was saying something. Still, despite the frantic “backstage” scramble, Jean allowed herself a quiet confidence that most of the guests had no idea anything had gone wrong. And that was how it should be.
She watched Josh reach the bottom of the aisle with Violet. His broad smile touched her heart as he lifted Violet’s veil and kissed her cheek. Thankful Violet had Josh to give her away, Jean wondered for a painful moment who would give her away if she ever made the walk down this aisle as a Matrimony Valley bride. Would it be so long in coming that Jonah would be old enough to do the honors?
Josh placed Violet’s hand into that of her groom and took his seat in the first row. I wish I could see his face, she thought, watch him as he watches the ceremony. Would he project himself—or the two of them—into the ceremony the same way she did? Did he wonder what their wedding would have been like, the same way she had since that conversation four nights ago on the mountain?
Had he come to feel for her as strongly as she’d come to feel for him? It didn’t matter whether it was wise or foolish; today heightened the feelings she had for him. Maybe it was best she couldn’t lose herself in the dazzle of his gaze right now—the mayor and chief wedding planner of Matrimony Valley had too much to do.
That didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat as Pastor Mitchell began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”
* * *
“I now pronounce you man and wife. Friends, may I present to you Captain and Mrs. Lyle Davis.”
Josh broke into thunderous applause along with the other wedding guests. Drawn silver swords flashed in the sunlight to create a ceremonial bridge under which Lyle and Violet took their first steps up the aisle as husband and wife. The joy in the place blazed full and energizing. Josh felt the stress of his life slough off his shoulders, at least for the next few hours. Today was a day to celebrate how love and happiness still showed up in the world.
He looked around for Jean as the guests filed out of the clearing, aware she was probably off coordinating some detail of the transition from ceremony to reception. Being one of the last guests to leave the space, he turned to gaze again at the cascade of water that served as Violet’s backdrop. Truly, no church he could think of—even the charming little sanctuary in the valley’s church—could match the splendor of the falls. Who could fault Jean for wanting to get married here? For helping other people get married here?
I’d want to get married here.
I’d want to marry Jean here.
He did. He’d been fighting the growing sense of wanting to be part of Jean’s life for days now. It wasn’t the desire to make it happen that was lacking; it was just the logistics of making it work. The things it might cost him. Things that, up until he’d stepped out of that car with Violet on Aisle Avenue, seemed vastly important. It wasn’t that they weren’t important anymore—the employees of SymphoCync, the career he’d built, the things he’d made possible—it was that he’d discovered some things that were more important. Some people who were more important.
How? he asked the falls—or, more precisely, their Creator. How do I do this impossible thing?
The answer struck him as he turned to walk up the petal-strewn aisle and make his way to the reception: the same way you’ve done all the other impossible things in your life.
That’s not entirely true, some new and deep part of him he suspected Jean would call his soul argued. You can’t do this. But the God who makes all things possible can, if you’re willing to ask.
Okay, God, he replied to himself, realizing with a start that what he was doing could be qualified as praying. I’m asking.