“Still sure about this?” Chet raised his eyebrows. He was dressed, like Link, in a dark suit that seemed appropriate for an informal wedding.
“I’m sure.” He pulled open the door to the church offices. “We made arrangements to have the ceremony in Pastor Laing’s study instead of the sanctuary.”
“Too many memories in there, I guess.”
Link nodded, throat tightening again. Too many, and too recent.
The door to the pastor’s study stood open. He stepped inside. Nora Evers, Davis and Becca’s next-door neighbor, held Marcy. An improbable hat perched on Nora’s white hair, and the baby was trying hard to pull off a purple flower.
“Nora, glad you could be here.” They’d needed witnesses, and he’d felt the grandmotherly woman would add a touch of permanence to the proceedings.
Pastor Laing said something welcoming, but Link’s attention was caught by Annie, standing unsmiling in front of the window. She wore a navy business suit with a white blouse, and her shiny brown hair curved in toward her rounded chin. Unlike Nora, she’d apparently seen no reason to wear a hat. She looked cool, severe and businesslike.
Once he’d been challenged by that cool exterior, but in the current circumstances he found it somehow reassuring. Annie looked as if nothing could touch her.
“I guess we should get started.” Pastor Laing picked up a worn black worship book and came around the desk to stand in front of them, his face austere. “If you’re both sure you’re ready.”
“We are,” Link said. He handed Annie the florist’s box.
She looked startled, then opened the box and took out the roses. He couldn’t see her expression, but she clutched the flowers tightly.
They’d talked with Garth Laing at length about this wedding, being carefully honest with him. Link certainly had no intention of lying to a man he respected as much as he did Garth. Maybe they’d left a few things out when they’d discussed their reasons for being married immediately, but if they had, he suspected someone as intuitive as the pastor could read between the lines.
Garth had agreed to marry them, that was the important thing. If they’d gone to a justice of the peace, he wasn’t sure Annie’s resolve would have held up.
Garth glanced from Link’s face to Annie’s. He nodded, as if satisfied with whatever he saw there. Then he began to read the age-old words of the wedding service.
Breathe, Link told himself. All you have to do is remember your responses. That, and hope Annie doesn’t say “I don’t” instead of “I do.”
The preliminaries over, Garth smiled at them. “Please join hands.”
For an instant he thought Annie wouldn’t move. Then she extended her hand.
Her fingers were so cold it was like taking a handful of ice. He clasped her hand in his, trying to warm it, and Annie looked up at him.
Shock ran through him. All that cool composure of hers was a facade. For a moment, he saw the grief and vulnerability in her golden-brown eyes, and the sight shook him to the heart.
Beneath her controlled exterior, Annie was fragile, so fragile. She’d just undergone the most devastating experience of her life, and now she was plunged into something she wouldn’t have dreamed possible a week earlier.
Dealing with Annie right now was like handling high explosives. One false move, and everything he’d naively thought was settled could blow sky high, leaving nothing but pieces.
Garth’s voice paused, and Link realized he had to say his vows. Holding her hands in his, he began.
The ring felt odd on her finger. Annie stood at the dresser in the guest room at Becca’s house, staring down at it. Her hand looked strange—the hand of a married woman.
She took a shaky breath. Hard as it was to believe, they’d actually done this thing. She and Link were husband and wife, legally and in God’s sight.
Did we do the right thing, Father? We honestly tried to determine Your will. Surely it was worth any sacrifice to keep Marcy safe.
Annie knew she’d better finish changing her clothes and get back downstairs. She’d left Marcy with Link, and she wasn’t sure how comfortable he was watching a lively toddler. Marcy’s little hands could move at the speed of light when she wanted something, and Annie was already discovering that she needed faster reflexes to keep up with her.
She pulled on khakis and a camel sweater, ran a brush through her hair and decided that would have to do. On to the next thing.
She and Link had already decided they’d both stay in the house tonight, since they didn’t want to raise any awkward questions with the hearing tomorrow. Link could sleep on the couch in Davis’s office. Being here together was difficult, but it was only for a night.
Once the custody case was settled, the need to look like a married couple would be finished. She’d take Marcy home, and that would be that.
In the meantime, she could certainly cope with the situation for a day or two. This was business, and she knew how to handle business.
The thought comforted her. She went quickly out of the room and down the stairs.
She found Link and Marcy in the family room, where he was trying to dissuade the baby from pulling all the videos out of the cabinet.
“How about playing with the nice blocks, instead?” He sounded harassed.
“She likes just about anything better than her toys, according to Becca.”
Link looked up at her from his prone position on the rug next to Marcy. A smile tilted his lips. “What do you suggest I do about it?”
She had to remind herself not to react to that smile. Business. She walked into the adjoining kitchen and pulled out the drawer her sister had filled with plastic containers and utensils.
“Look, Marcy. Look what Nan has.” She tapped a wooden spoon invitingly on a plastic container.
Marcy dropped a video on Link’s arm and trotted over to grab the spoon away from Annie. She plopped down in front of the drawer.
“Whatever anyone else has, that’s what she wants. Becca called it the toddler’s creed.” Her smile faltered when she seemed to hear her sister’s voice.
Link closed the video cabinet quickly, snapping the safety lock. “Nan? How did you get to be Nan?”
“Aunt Annie is a mouthful. She hasn’t managed it yet.”
He unfolded himself from the floor and walked toward her. Her mouth went suddenly dry. They were alone together. They were married.
He stopped, looking down at the baby. “Speaking of cooking utensils, have you given any thought to supper?”
She stared at him blankly. So much for the efficient, businesslike way she was going to handle things. “No, I guess I haven’t.” She hated admitting to any error. “It never entered my mind.”
“Well, we have to eat. Why don’t you grab a jacket, and I’ll take the two of you out.”
That just seemed to multiply her inefficiency. “Marcy’s going to be tired out soon. I doubt she’d last through a restaurant dinner without a meltdown.”
He looked at the baby with caution, as if anticipating an explosion. “I could pick up some take-out.”
“The freezer’s still full of the food people brought over for the funeral. I’ll microwave something for tonight.”
By tomorrow, she wouldn’t need to feel responsible for Link’s dinner.
“Okay.” He sat down