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The strains of music changed again, and the congregation stood. James lifted his eyes and saw his bride walking down the aisle.
She wore a simple peasant shirt and a skirt that swished around her ankles. The shirt was white, but the skirt was green with purple flowers on it. They matched the purple wildflowers she held in her hand and the ones that had been placed throughout her hair which was down.
He racked his brain, trying to think if he’d ever seen her hair down. Normally she wore it in a ponytail or even in a braid, which suited her no-nonsense personality. She wasn’t frivolous or cute or even exceptionally feminine.
He bit back a smile as she strode down the aisle, rather than took the graceful little steps of a typical bride.
She walked alone.
He felt bad about that and wondered if she missed her dad. She hadn’t said anything in the days leading up to their wedding, but they hadn’t talked as much as he had hoped they would.
He’d had to go to Chicago, and he’d done his best to straighten things out. He wasn’t sure if he was successful or not, but he wasn’t going to let that bother him. If the business didn’t do well, if he lost it, he had what mattered right here in North Dakota.
She was walking toward him, and while he hadn’t told her he loved her, hadn’t even kissed her yet, he thought that maybe he was falling. After all, he’d admired her for years and wanted this day to happen, having no idea that it actually would and much sooner than he anticipated. She clutched the flowers tightly. He could see the whites of her knuckles, and so, when she looked up, meeting his eyes, he smiled at her. He wanted her to know that he was eager and excited. That, and that she was the reason.
He didn’t know if he conveyed all of that to her with his smile, but she returned the gesture, and he noted that her grip on the flowers loosened.
The ceremony went by in a blur; the only thing that really anchored him were the hands that he held throughout it.
He brushed her lips with his when the pastor told him to, and the church erupted in cheers.
The reception was potluck, and he was pretty sure that Mabel had a great time. He knew he did. Mostly because they were side by side through it all.
He supposed the feeling would wear off, but he wouldn’t mind if she stayed beside him forever.
He figured that was too much to ask, but hopefully, with care and deliberation on their part, their relationship would deepen and blossom into something that closely resembled love, even if it wasn’t quite the way the rest of the world did it.
It was at least four hours later when the older ladies of the church shooed them off, telling them that they would make sure that everything got cleaned up and encouraging them to go home and enjoy themselves.
Aunt Carol was staying the night at Miss April’s house, in town, which James had never gotten around to thanking her for but made a note to do so.
Not that he had anything planned with Mabel, other than sitting on the front porch and holding her hand.
But shortly after they got in the car, Mabel’s phone rang. He hadn’t even pulled out of the church parking lot.
“I don’t have to get this,” she said, lifting her brows at him and holding up her phone. It showed a number with the local area code, but he didn’t recognize it.
“Is that someone calling for an emergency?”
“Most likely.”
Lark had been called out of the reception an hour previously, for a calf with an intestinal protraction. She probably was not done dealing with that emergency.
“Most likely, he called Lark first, and she told him she couldn’t come right away, and I would guess that she told him not to bother me because it was my wedding day.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“I have a good idea. But I’m not entirely sure I recognize the number.”
“Why don’t you answer it? We’ll have a unique wedding night, if nothing else.”
“Are you sure?”
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“I’d rather spend it with you, but... This is my calling.” She bit her lip. “And the farmers of Sweet Water depend on me. I... I would like to be able to take off for my wedding, but at the same time, the idea that something might die because I ignored it...”
“Answer it, before it quits ringing.”
