by Beth K. Vogt
Where did their relationship go from here?
Reid asked for her forgiveness. Was that all today was about? Reid asking for forgiveness and her granting him it?
Echoes of the argument that had broken their engagement—that had shattered her self-worth for what seemed like the thousandth time—sounded in her head.
“Understand what? That my fiancée doesn’t know how to handle money?”
“How am I supposed to explain this to my parents?”
“I think it’s best if I handle our finances—”
But if she replayed those verbal attacks, she’d only be pulled back to who she’d been. And she wasn’t that woman anymore.
And Reid wasn’t the man who’d made such poor choices anymore, either.
“Yes, Reid. I forgive you.” Bellamy reached across the narrow aisle to him. “And thank you for telling me.”
Reid moved his hand to cover hers. “Bellamy, I wanted to face my past so that there’s hope for us to have a future together again.”
“That’s the reason I came today.” The admission slipped out before she could stop it. But it was the truth. “I can’t deny everything you’re telling me has shocked me—”
“I can only imagine.” Reid wove their fingers together. “I thought it was best to put it all behind me. To forget it. But my friend Garrett told me none of this was behind me because it was still affecting me. Affecting us. I made a huge mistake—and I regret it.”
“I forgive you, Reid.”
“Knowing that, I can’t wait until we get to—” Reid covered his mouth with his hand.
“Where? Until we get to where?”
“Oh, no. That was a close call. You’re not the only one who can be impulsive.”
“I’m beginning to see that, Mr. Stanton.”
FOURTEEN
New York.
Reid had flown them to New York City.
“Reid, we haven’t been back here since—”
“Since we were here with our mothers, planning our wedding.” Reid helped her out of the taxi, paid the driver, and led her toward the Belvedere Castle in Central Park.
“What are we doing here?”
“Wait and see.”
It was an unusually warm day in the city, and the park was filled with people strolling and running along the pathways. One woman advanced toward them—and then Bellamy realized she carried a camera and a small leather duffel bag.
“Is that Francine Frey?”
“Why yes, yes, it is. What could she be doing here?”
The photographer greeted them both with a hug.
“Bellamy, you look gorgeous—green is your color.” She straightened the collar of Reid’s leather jacket. “I see your mother dressed you, Reid.”
“Oh, thanks for that. Actually, I Skyped with Lydia and she helped me with this outfit.”
Francine handed the duffel off to Reid. “I brought a few props with me. I’m set up along the Ramble—my assistant is waiting for us. Let’s get going with this photo shoot!”
Asking forgiveness . . . and a photo shoot? Reid Stanton being impulsive? Bellamy’s world was tilted off its axis, but she wasn’t complaining.
The next two hours, Francine was in charge. She photographed them walking along the maze of woodland trails in Central Park, and then led them to Belvedere Castle to take some photos of them up on one of the balconies. Then the photographer hailed a taxi. The next stop was a spot along the Brooklyn Bridge, where she took photos of Bellamy snuggled in Reid’s embrace against the backdrop of the Manhattan skyline just as the sun started to set behind the buildings.
“Having fun?” Reid’s teasing whisper in her ear sent a delicious warmth down her neck.
Was he going to kiss her?
“Yes—so much fun!” She turned her face so that their lips were scant inches apart.
“Wonderful.” Reid’s blue eyes darkened, his arms tightening around her waist. “There’s more of that to come!”
“Come on, you two!” Francine’s cheerful summons broke the spell. “This is not the time for kissing.”
Reid moved away and followed Francine to the waiting taxi. As far as Bellamy was concerned, the woman was wrong. That was the perfect time for kissing—even one little kiss.
Bellamy gasped when the taxi pulled up outside FAO Schwarz, the world-famous toy store.
“We’re coming here?”
“I realized we missed this the first time we visited the city. An oversight on my part.” Reid handed the driver his credit card, waiting while he ran it through the machine. “This is to cover the other woman’s fare home—and she’ll make sure to add in a generous tip.”
Bellamy bent down to talk to the woman who remained in the taxi. “You’re not coming with us, Francine?”
“I’ll take one more photo from here of the real-life toy soldier ushering the two of you into the store, and then I’m officially off the clock. It’s been grand seeing you again.”
Bellamy turned a full circle in the store’s main hallway. “The only time I’ve ever seen this store was in the Tom Hanks movie Big, when he danced on the piano mat.”
“Well then, let’s go dance, shall we?”
Bellamy stopped walking. “You are kidding me.”
“I had thought of arranging for a guided tour by a toy soldier, but decided we could have more fun if we went where we wanted, when we wanted. Are you game?”
She grabbed his hand. “Absolutely. And I will dance you into the ground, Reid Stanton.”
Two hours later, they’d wound their way up and down stairs, past the doll department and the Newborn Nursery, where children could “adopt” a baby. The book department, with its illuminated display of past FAO Schwarz catalog covers. And the Muppet Whatnot Workshop, where Bellamy convinced Reid to create a puppet.
Even though she was exhausted, Bellamy couldn’t leave yet. “We haven’t been to the stuffed animal section yet.”
“No, we seem to keep missing that.” Reid’s hand was warm around hers. “How about we make that our last stop?”
“Sounds perfect.”
The department overflowed with the voices and laughter of children and adults alike. A menagerie of stuffed animals lined the displays. Ducks and piggies. Lions and long-legged giraffes. Rabbits and reptiles. Dogs and cats. And bears, bears, bears.
“Would you like to choose one?”
“How do you choose just one?”
“Well, we could always fill the back of the jet—”
“I don’t think so.”
Reid plucked from the assortment a plush chocolate-brown Lab puppy wearing a blue ribbon. “Well, how about this one, for my favorite dog groomer?”
“It would be appropriate . . .” Bellamy’s voice trailed off. “What’s this?”
Another white envelope addressed to her, the same as all the others, was tied around the stuffed animal’s neck.
“Reid?”
Reid shook his head, hands held high. “It’s got your name on it, not mine.”
“Very funny.”
Her fingers trembled as she tore open the envelope.
Belle-love,
Shall we go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Plaza?
Reid
“It sounds lovely. But all you had to do was ask.”
“True. But it was a bit more fun this way, don’t you think?”
• • •
Instead of ushering her into yet another waiting taxi, they stepped into an elegant white carriage waiting just outside the toy store, drawn by a powerful-looking black horse.
“Reid, this is . . . amazing.”
He settled her into the carriage, tucking a woolen blanket around both of them. “Well, I hope you enjoy the ride and seeing all the Christmas lights—and that we both don’t end
up with frostbite.”
“All the more reason to sit closer to each other.” She snuggled next to Reid as he placed his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close.
The carriage driver took them on a leisurely drive past landmarks along Fifth Avenue, narrating as he passed each one, including the edge of Central Park and the Plaza Hotel and Tiffany’s. As they drew closer to Rockefeller Plaza, the man described how the Christmas tree tradition began in 1933, and that originally there were three Christmas trees in the plaza. That the tree went “green” in 2007, switching to LED lights, and how this year’s Christmas tree was a ninety-foot-tall Norway spruce—as most of the past trees had been. And that the star atop the tree was made of Swarovski crystals, and weighed 550 pounds.
Once the carriage drew up along the street near the plaza, the man lapsed into silence. The tree was aglow with thousands of lights—vivid against the night sky—and skaters wended their way around the ice-skating rink below the tree.
“Isn’t the tree beautiful?” She shifted so she could see Reid’s face—and found him watching her.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Oh.
Reid took both her hands in his, raising first one and then the other and pressing a gentle kiss against her skin.
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
Goodness, no. And if his actions were a prelude to more kisses, true kisses, she wouldn’t need the woolen blanket he’d tucked around her at the beginning of the carriage ride.
Reid’s deep chuckle threw her off-guard. Why was he laughing?
“Is something funny?”
“Well, yes—and no. The first time I proposed to you, I upheld tradition and got down on one knee. I’d planned to do so again tonight—but I forgot to figure in the fact that we’d be seated in a carriage.”
His words wrapped around her heart. “Are you . . . proposing?”
“Yes—although I’m not going about it as well as I’d imagined.”
“I’m fine with an imperfect proposal.”
“It’s fitting, isn’t it? Two imperfect people learning to love each other.” Still holding one of her hands, Reid retrieved something from one of his coat pockets. “Bellamy, will you please marry me?”
In his hand was her engagement ring, the lamplight overhead managing to catch the sparkle of the gemstones as he waited for her answer.
“Yes, Reid. My answer is yes.”
The ring slipped back onto her finger with ease—because that’s where it belonged. And then, at last, Reid kissed her.
Oh, how she’d missed Reid’s kisses. Although his lips were cool against hers, the potent mix of gentleness and passion ignited a warmth inside her that hinted of pleasures to come. He gathered her into his arms, holding her so tight it was as if he’d never let her go again. After savoring the taste of her mouth, he pressed his now-warm lips against her neck, whispering, “I’ve missed you, Belle-love.”
Here, in a horse-drawn carriage, and with the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center a stunning backdrop, their kisses took on a magical storybook quality—one promising the happily ever after she’d longed for.
FIFTEEN
Nervous?”
Garrett’s question didn’t disturb Reid’s focus on the still-closed carved wooden doors at the back of the church. His sister and Elisabeth were already walking down the aisle—when would the doors open again and reveal Bellamy?
“No.”
Reid’s answer must have been louder than he’d meant for it to be because a soft wave of laughter sounded through the small group of guests seated in the first few rows at the front of the church.
“No.” He lowered his voice. “Eager. Ready to do this.”
The pianist transitioned to the opening notes of “Song of the Heart,” causing Reid’s own pulse rate to quicken.
No more waiting.
It’d taken a near-miracle to pull off a wedding in less than three weeks—but between Reid’s mother and one of the top wedding coordinators in New York, a Manhattan destination wedding do-over came together.
But only after he and Bellamy sat down and talked with both sets of parents and then discussed the budget together.
His favorite part?
Watching his mother present his bride-to-be with the stunning wedding gown they both thought had been won by some unknown woman at the hospital charity auction.
Bellamy glanced back and forth between Reid and his mother. “How did you . . . but you didn’t . . .”
“No, I didn’t win the gown.” Reid could have laughed out loud at the Cheshire Cat smile on his mother’s face. “But my mother did, with the help of a willing accomplice.”
“A friend?”
“No.” His mother took over the explanation. “If I’d asked a friend or even a board member to assist me, I knew Reid might have recognized them. So I requested the aid of an absolute stranger to bid on the gown. Of course, I assured the woman that my husband would pay for her winning bid.”
“Mr. Stanton paid for the dress?”
“Indeed he did. And my instructions were for her to outbid anyone. I never expected she’d be outbidding our son.”
The doors swung open and Bellamy stepped from the foyer into the church, escorted by her father. But Reid saw his future father-in-law as a mere shadow in the soft golden glow that was his bride.
Bellamy’s dark hair was pulled off her face, held back by a jeweled clasp of some sort, allowing him to see the curve of her jaw, the length of neck and shoulder. The brooches in her bouquet mirrored the shimmer of the barrette in her hair.
Reid could have been distracted by the vaulted ceiling of the historic church—or by the grand stained-glass windows along the walls that allowed the winter sunlight to stream in and cast a glow onto the small gathering of friends and family. He could even stop and ponder the significance of how his parents and grandparents had spoken their wedding vows here.
I’ll be looking at you, Reid. Only you.
Even the echo of Bellamy’s promise last night just after he’d given her one last “until tomorrow” kiss couldn’t distract Reid from watching his bride walk toward him.
Yes, he’d seen her in the dress on the night of the auction. But today . . . today the notes of the piano seemed to draw her ever closer . . . to become his wife.
Bellamy loved him—imperfect as he was.
And he loved her.
And together, with God’s help and his lavish grace, they would discover what loving each other truly meant.
From this day forward.
• • •
For months Bellamy had pinned bits and pieces of a Manhattan destination wedding—haphazard glimpses of happily ever after—to virtual Pinterest boards.
Now all of those bits and pieces became her wedding day. All of her daydreams and the weeks when her heart shattered into a million tiny pieces of heartache. And then God miraculously wove broken hearts and broken dreams back together again with invisible threads of forgiveness and love spoken with truth.
The minister’s voice refocused her attention to the ceremony.
“Reid and Bellamy, please take each other’s right hands.”
Reid’s strong grip embraced her hand. Warm. Solid.
“This is the hand of the person who will become your best friend.” The minister’s words were for them alone.
“You are holding each other’s hands as you promise before God and these other witnesses to love each other all the days of your lives.
“These are the hands that will work together as you build your future and make your dreams a reality. Remember that unless the Lord builds the house, they who labor, labor in vain.
“These are the hands that will comfort you in illness and trials, and share the joy and happiness of life together. The Word tells us not to be surprised b
y trials and tough times.
“These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you all through the years. Remember that you are to consider each other more important than yourself. Submit yourselves to each other out of love.
“May you always hold each other and give strength to each other to hold on to the covenant you make to each other and to God today no matter the storms and stresses of life. Remind each other that your hope and strength is in trusting God together.”
Within moments, she and Reid spoke their vows. Her voice trembled. His was vibrant. Sure.
“Reid, you may now kiss your bride.”
A familiar glint lit her groom’s eyes and Bellamy had to stifle a giggle.
She kept her voice low, even as she offered a warning. “Don’t you dare, Reid Stanton!”
“Don’t I dare what?” He whispered the words even as he drew her closer. “Kiss you? Of course I’m going to kiss you.”
“Be nice. We’re in church.”
And then he kissed her . . . and the feel of his lips against hers was oh so nice, with just the right hint of more to come.
Applause mixed with a few exuberant whistles broke them apart, and heat stained Bellamy’s cheeks.
“I look forward to continuing that later.”
“Shhh. The minister can hear you.” Bellamy refused to look at the gray-haired man standing between them.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Reid and Bellamy Stanton!”
Applause erupted again, along with the beginning strains of their recessional.
“Shall we go, Mrs. Stanton?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Stanton.”
Reid swept her off her feet and up into his arms.
“What are you doing?” Bellamy clung to her brooch bouquet, her arm slung over Reid’s shoulders, their guests disappearing in a blur.
“Making a break for it!” His long strides took them past their astonished guests and into the church foyer and out the doors.
“Reid, stop! We can’t—” Laughter interrupted Bellamy’s protests. “—we can’t run away from our family and friends! They were expecting a receiving line.”