Page 28 of Emma's Wish


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As Amanda and James took their places, Amanda gave a signal to the organist. Suddenly, music filled the air.

Then Emma appeared in the doorway, and Sam's breath caught in his throat at the vision.

A shaft of sunlight gleamed through the door behind her, forming a golden halo around her.

My God, she's beautiful. Like an angel.

Their eyes met, and Sam's heart galloped like a stampeding herd. This was his bride, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.

A strange peace settled over him as he waited for her to move towards him.

***

It seemed the entire population of Charity was packed inside the small church. For several moments, Emma stood at the back of the church, her gaze focused on the man waiting for her at th

e altar a several yards away.

Dressed in a black suit with a snowy white shirt and black string tie, Sam was more handsome than she'd ever imagined. As she made her way down the aisle towards him, she was vaguely aware of the smiles and hushed voices as she passed the townsfolk, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Sam.

As she gazed into his dark eyes, a curious warmth she didn't recognize swirled deep inside her, leaving her heart pounding and her knees weak.

As she drew closer and stopped beside him in front of the altar, the expression on his face was one of confusion, as if he'd never seen her before. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and Emma noticed his pulse beating rapidly in the tanned skin of his neck.

Did he have regrets? Was he wishing he'd hadn't agreed to marry her? Was he thinking of his first wife and remembering their wedding?

The organ music stopped, and Reverend Winslop began to speak.

"Dearly beloved ..."

Oh, if only they were beloved. If only she was marrying a man she loved and who loved her, instead of marrying a virtual stranger.

"We are gathered here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony..."

Emma's heart began to thud, and she glanced down, sure that she would be able to see the rapid beating of her heart right through the silk fabric.

"Please join hands," the minister went on.

Sam's fingers closed over hers, and a tremor of warmth streaked through her. Shocked, she lifted her gaze to Sam’s face. His eyes were wide. Had he felt it, too?

The minister was speaking, but Emma saw nothing but Sam's face, heard nothing but Sam's voice. "I, Samuel Edward Jenkins ..." he began, pausing as the minister coached him with the appropriate vows, "... take thee, Emma Violet Witherspoon ... to be my wedded wife ... better or worse ... until death do us part."

Until death do us part. Forever. Eternity. Until the end of time. This was the vow he was making to her, this man she barely knew. And she would make the same vow to him.

Could they really make this work? Could they spend their lives together and be happy?

"Emma?" a voice whispered, then again, louder this time.

"Oh ... I'm sorry ..."

"It's your turn," Reverend Winslop said softly.

Emma's voice quivered as she began to recite her vows.. "I, Emma Violet Witherspoon, take thee, Samuel Edward Jenkins, to be my husband ..." As she said the sacred words, her gaze met Sam's, and her voice became louder, stronger.

A few minutes later, Reverend Winslop said the words that would bind them for life. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.

Sam squeezed her hand, but whether it was a nervous reaction to the finality of the situation, or whether he was pleased, Emma had no way of knowing.

Then the minister winked at Sam and grinned wickedly. "Well, Sam, are you going to kiss your bride or not?"

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