Love Finds You in Camelot, Tennessee

by Janice Hanna

  “I never could figure out the eleventh-hour thing,” Amy said. “Why is it that God usually chooses to wait till the very last minute to let things work out?”

  “I’m not sure. I just know that it’s a test of our faith when we’re not sure how things are going to come together. And it’s always just a miraculous feeling when it does.” He paused and gazed at her. “Speaking of which…”

  “What?”

  “Can I ask a question?”

  “Sure.” She gave him a cursory glance.

  “Well, talking about the eleventh-hour stuff reminded me of the city council meeting last night. I know I’m not really a resident here, but I have a vested interest—both in my grandfather and…well, in you.”

  “Me?” She sucked in a breath, wondering what he meant.

  “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after last night’s meeting.”

  “It was rough.” Amy sighed. “And it’s obvious that everyone in town has his or her own opinion about strangers coming in and buying up the land.” She shook her head. “Can’t say I blame people for getting worked up. I’m a little unnerved myself. Things are moving too fast, and I’m completely to blame. I got this ball rolling down the hill, but I’m afraid it’s going to end up crushing us.”

  “Well, before you get too carried away with that thought, remember that you prayed about the decision to put on the play.” He paused and gave her an intense look. “You did pray about it, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. Then here’s how I feel about that. If you prayed and God gave you the peace to move forward, you didn’t exactly get ahead of Him. And if you didn’t get ahead of Him, you’re probably tracking with Him.”

  “Tracking with Him?”

  “Moving step by step with Him holding your hand.”

  “Ah.” Amy looked down as she felt Jackson take hold of her hand. He gave it a squeeze then gazed at her with tenderness in his eyes.

  Off in the distance, Natalie approached with a wave. Jackson released his hold on Amy’s hand.

  “Hey, Amy.” Natalie placed a hand on her blossoming belly “Thanks for coming early. I don’t think this will take long.”

  “No problem. You have an outfit for me to try on?”

  “Three, in fact,” Natalie said. “Caroline is inside ironing the dress for the wedding scene. I think you’re going to love it.”

  Natalie turned her attention to Jackson. “Hmm. We’d planned to have you try on your costume as well, but you’re a little…”

  “Grimy?”

  “Yeah. That’s putting it mildly.”

  “I need to run home and take a quick shower; then I’ll come right back. I think the guys can do without me for a while.”

  He waved at Darrell, who hollered, “Thanks for your help!”

  “No problem.”

  As he took off, Amy reflected on his words. She had prayed about this. And God would see it through.

  Going inside the Civic Center, she met up with Caroline, who greeted her with a warm hug. “Hello, darlin’.”

  “Hello yourself,” Amy said. “You’re in a good mood today.”

  “I am.” Caroline flashed a suspicious smile. “Feeling mighty good, in fact.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” She gave the older woman an inquisitive look, trying to figure out what Steve had been so worried about. Caroline seemed fine today.

  Natalie and Caroline reminisced about the fun they’d had putting together the costumes and then showed Amy some of their handiwork. Amy looked on with amazement as they showed off the various pieces they’d sewn.

  “Honestly, ladies, I don’t think they could have been any nicer if we’d ordered them from a costume company.”

  “Aw, well, thanks.” Natalie grinned. “I’m glad I’m able to contribute.”

  “And I’m sure these costumes are going to make you all look like kings and queens.” Caroline beamed. “So let’s try on a few, shall we? We’ll start with the dress you’ll be wearing in the first scene.” She and Natalie followed Amy into the ladies’ room with their arms loaded with costumes. The ladies chattered so loudly, their words reverberated around the little room. Not that Amy minded. No, their conversation had a homey feel to it. And Caroline’s bubbly voice put her at ease, as always.

  Amy changed into the lovely blue gown, mesmerized by its beauty. “Wow,” she said, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Breathtaking.”

  “Yes, you are.” Caroline gave her a little kiss on the cheek. “But I suppose you were talking about the dress.”

  “Yes, the dress.” Amy gave Caroline’s hand a squeeze. “But thank you.”

  “I’m so glad you like it.” Natalie fidgeted with one of the sleeves. Seconds later, she withdrew her hand and placed it on her tummy. “Oh!” She grabbed Amy’s hand and pressed it to her belly. “Do you feel that? He’s doing a somersault.”

  “That’s crazy.” Amy pressed her palm against Natalie’s rounded midsection, amazed at the activity coming from within. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

  “Me either.” Natalie giggled. “Not until a few months ago, anyway. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect with our first baby. This is all new territory for me.”

  “Oh, honey, this is going to be the best experience of your life,” Caroline said. “Trust me.”

  The three women stood side by side, their reflections in the mirror showing off the vivid differences between them all—Natalie, with her extended belly; Caroline, with the soft wrinkles around her eyes and salt-and-pepper hair; and Amy, with her long blond hair, decked out in medieval attire. How different…and yet how much the same.

  “When you find that man you love,” Caroline said to the reflections in the mirror, “the rest is just gravy.”

  Natalie giggled and put her hand on her tummy. “Gravy, huh?”

  “Yep.” Caroline began to hum the melody to “I Loved You Once in Silence.”

  Amy’s heart soared. She wrapped her arms around Caroline’s neck and whispered, “I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

  “Well, me too, honey. Now, let’s get you into that second dress.”

  Amy tried on the soft pink number, loving it even more than the first. She especially liked the shimmering fabric.

  “Looks great with your eyes,” Caroline said. “Steve is going to flip when he sees you in this dress.”

  Amy felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “Okay, ready for the crème de la crème?” Natalie asked. “Want to see the wedding dress?”

  Amy glanced at the clock. “Do we have time before the rehearsal starts?”

  “Sure. It won’t take long. I just need to pin up the hem.” She brought in the most beautiful white Renaissance dress Amy had ever seen.

  “Oh, Natalie, it’s gorgeous. Just takes my breath away.”

  “Thank you.”

  Amy slipped the gown over her head and laced up the front. While Caroline knelt to pin the hem, Natalie drew near with a headpiece in hand.

  “I made this by hand,” she said. “Do you like it?”

  “Like it?” Amy could hardly believe her eyes. The delicate beading…the shimmering jewels…“Natalie, I’m floored.”

  Natalie pinned it on, humming all the while. When she finished, Amy glanced at her reflection.

  “Wish we had a bigger mirror so I could see the train on this dress.”

  “There’s the big one in the foyer,” Caroline said, taking her by the hand. “Let’s go take a look.”

  They entered the main room of the Civic Center and headed straight for the full-length mirror in the front hall.

  “Wow.” Amy stared at her reflection.

  “‘Wow’ is right.” Jackson’s voice rang out from behind her.

  She turned to see him cleaned and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. His eyes widened as he took in the dress. “You look…amazing.”

  Amy’s cheeks grew warm. “Didn’t Natalie do a fantastic job?”
/>
  “She did.” His gaze remained riveted on her gown—and then her face. A smile teased the edges of his lips, and she wondered why he grew silent.

  “Looks like you got here just in time, Jackson,” Natalie said. “Let’s get you into that jousting costume before the others get here.”

  He disappeared in the direction of the men’s room and Natalie’s voice called out behind him. “Your costumes are marked with your name. Let me know if you need any safety pins or anything, and come out when you’re done.”

  Moments later, Amy was completely blown away as Jackson entered the room dressed in his royal-blue doublet. In that instant, she found herself transported. This really was Camelot. She was a princess, dressed in royal attire, waiting for the prince to take her by the hand.

  Hmm. Only one problem.

  Wrong prince.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Acting is a form of confusion.

  TALLULAH BANKHEAD

  Amy swallowed hard as Jackson took a step in her direction. His eyes sparkled as he extended his hand. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was looking at the real Guinevere.”

  “Oh?” Do I take his hand, or… She took it then allowed him to spin her around like a princess at a ball. She could almost hear the music in her head as everything began to twirl.

  Almost. After a few seconds of daydreaming, other thoughts kicked in.

  Where’s Steve? Why isn’t he here? He knew we were supposed to come early today. Oh, yes. He’s working on Woody’s car.

  Amy stopped dancing, the music in her head slowly fading. How sweet of Steve, to give his whole day fixing up that old Mustang for his friend. He was a real prince, the stuff legends were made of. And she would wait for him, symbolically and otherwise.

  Still, Amy could hardly breathe as Jackson released her and gave a royal bow. She responded with a curtsy, playing along so that none of this would seem too real.

  “So, what do you think of my getup?” Jackson asked, pointing to his costume.

  “You look like the real deal,” she said. “I half expected you to come charging across the field on a horse.”

  He grinned. “That’s coming up in today’s rehearsal, right? If we can find a real horse, anyway.”

  “Yes. We’re definitely rehearsing the jousting scene today. I’ve put it off for too long.” Amy took another look in the mirror, examining her dress once more. “It’s kind of fun playing dress-up.” She turned, her skirt making a lovely swishing sound. “Haven’t done anything like this since I was a kid. I always wanted to be a princess.”

  “You always have been,” Caroline said, drawing near with a box of straight pins in her hand. “From the moment I first met you, I knew you had the makings of royalty.”

  Amy’s breath caught in her throat. She turned with a strained smile, hoping to keep the conversation moving forward.

  A camera flash caught Amy off guard. When had the reporter gotten here?

  “Hey, Guinevere and Lancelot, give us a smile.” Mickey’s jovial words seemed genuine enough, but the click of the camera contradicted it. Ugh. Would they end up on the front page again? “Get a little closer, you two,” he said. “Give us a pose.” Mickey drew near and situated them, putting Jackson’s arm around Amy’s waist.

  Deep breath, Amy. It’s just a picture.

  Still, as the reporter gestured for her to lean her head against Jackson’s broad shoulder, Amy felt her stomach flip. When Jackson gazed into her eyes, however, she calmed down and felt her tensions lift. The music began to play in her head once again, its melody strangely compelling.

  Yes, something about this particular Lancelot really cast a spell on her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And if the music in her head didn’t stop playing sooner rather than later, she might just find herself…what was the word? Ah yes. Captivated.

  Steve rushed through the door of the Civic Center, concerned about the time. He’d spent half the day getting Woody’s car worked on and, eventually, inspected. A few complications had threatened to bring him down, but he’d risen against them. All with one thought in mind: he had to get to Amy. Had to tell her how he felt. Once the words were spoken, he could breathe easier. How hard could it be anyway—to tell a woman he loved her?

  As he entered the room, Steve’s gaze fell at once on the woman who consumed his thoughts. She was dressed in the most beautiful wedding gown he’d ever seen. Talk about the perfect moment. Her beauty took his breath away.

  Until he realized she was standing arm in arm with Jackson Brenner, dressed in an over-the-top knight-in-shining-armor getup.

  Everything Steve had spent the day thinking about—pondering, praying about—shot right out of his head. Suddenly he could only see Guinevere and Lancelot, arm in arm. As a couple. Alarm bells went off in his head and his heart, though he fought to silence them before his expression gave him away.

  “Glad you could join us.” Natalie approached Steve. “I’ve got your Arthur costumes ready to try on. Which do you want to see first?”

  He didn’t even stop to look. Grabbing one, Steve slipped into the men’s room, his thoughts in a whirl. He tried not to think about the look of contentment on Amy’s face as she posed for the camera with Jackson in her arms. Steve couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. Not that he could blame Jackson. No, the guy was genuinely good.

  Just like the real Lancelot.

  Great. Now I’m starting to believe the legend.

  He put aside all conflicting thoughts as he put on the first costume. Unfortunately, it didn’t fit quite like he’d hoped. The shoulders were too wide, dwarfing him. And those stupid tights…Amy could call them pants if she liked, but they still looked and felt like little-girl tights to him. Still, he couldn’t go bare-legged, could he? No, he’d better forge ahead. Against his better judgment, he eased into them.

  Might as well get this over with. Steve made his way back out into the main room, stunned to see that most of the cast had arrived. Great. Nothing like showing off your skinny tights-covered legs to the ladies. From across the room, he kept a watchful eye on Amy and Jackson. She offered him an inviting smile, and his heart lifted. See? You have nothing to worry about.

  A familiar voice sounded behind him. Feminine. Gentle. Sincere. “Wow, Steve. At moments like this, I really believe you were born to be a king.”

  He turned to find Gwen staring at him.

  “You think?” He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror.

  “I think.” Her words reflected the same kindness he now saw in her eyes.

  “Even with these ridiculous…” He pointed down at his legs, unwilling to say the word.

  “Mm-hmm.” She nodded then shifted her gaze to his face. They stood close enough to touch, neither of them saying a word. And then he heard a familiar voice.

  “Did you miss me, everyone? The lost sheep has returned to the fold.”

  Steve turned to see that Woody had entered the room, his arm in a sling. The cast members began to cheer. A couple of the women—Amy included—erupted in tears.

  Woody’s put his uninjured hand over one ear. “Why is everyone shouting?” He pointed to his new hearing aid. “Sounds like you’re all amplified a hundred times over.”

  “We’re just so happy to see you here, Woody.” Amy wrapped him in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Just a broken arm. Nothing major. And please stop hollering at me. I’m not deaf.” He stuffed his fingers into his ears, a pained expression on his face.

  “Are you still going to be able to play the part of Merlin?” Annabelle asked.

  “Yep. We’ll figure out a way,” he said. “I’ll manage. Been looking forward to it.”

  “Caroline and I have already got that figured out,” Natalie said. “If you can go without your sling for the scenes when you’re onstage, we’ll make the sleeves of your costume long enough and full enough to cover the cast.”

  “They’re pretty good at the costume thing.” St
eve gestured to his doublet as proof.

  “You’re not gonna get me in those girly tights, though,” Woody mumbled. “Can’t believe they talked you into it, Steve.”

  He groaned. “They’re not tights. They’re pants.”

  “Mighty tight pants,” Woody muttered. “But I don’t suppose we have time to be talking about costumes right now, do we? Don’t we have a show to put on in just a few weeks? Why are we all just standing around? Let’s get to work, people.”

  “Yes, we’ve got to work on that jousting scene.” The corners of Amy’s lips curled up in a smile. “Sarge, are the animals here?”

  “Yep.” He chuckled. “Brought Katie Sue and B-52, too!” A round of laughter followed. “But seriously, they’re out in the trailer.”

  “Well, give us a few minutes to change out of these costumes,” Amy said, “and we’ll get this ball rolling. I think we’ll run the jousting scene in the field off the parking lot. If the noise from the construction isn’t too loud, anyway.”

  Steve followed Jackson into the men’s room, making light conversation as they changed back into their street clothes.

  “How does it feel to be king?” Jackson asked, hanging up his costume.

  “Pretty good, I guess.” Steve offered what he hoped would look like a convincing smile. Still, he couldn’t let go of the unsettling feeling that gripped him every time he thought about Amy and Jackson, arm in arm.

  He gave himself a quick glance in the mirror and was startled to see the weariness in his eyes. This whole thing—the play, last night’s meeting, Caroline, and the situation with Amy—was apparently taking a toll on him.

  Jackson slapped him on the back. “Amy’s calling us. Better get out there. Never want to keep a woman waiting.”

  “Guess you’re right.” He buried the sigh that threatened to erupt and followed Jackson into the Civic Center. His heart quickened as he saw Amy dressed in her usual jeans and T-shirt. Hopefully he would have a few minutes with her before the rehearsal began.

  But he’d no sooner taken a step in her direction than she reached for her clipboard.