by Rachel Lee
“It’s okay,” he murmured, running his fingers through her hair. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I’m scared, too. It hurts so much to care. It hurts so much to love.”
“Love can kill you.”
“Just about. But…you know, it’s already too late. For me, anyway. Because I’m in love with you, Mary McKinney. I’m in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to get married and have babies and see your smile over the breakfast table every morning. And if that means I have to risk that awful pain again…well, I’m already risking it. Right now. I can’t walk away. Unless you tell me to go.”
Her fingers were knotted into his shirtsleeves, and her tears were dampening his shirtfront. “I can’t tell you to go, Sam. I tried, and I felt like I was going to die inside. It hurt so bad…. Oh, Sam, don’t ever go away again. Not even if I tell you to. Promise me?”
“I promise. Sweet Mary, I promise. And I’ll tell you right now, we’re going to get some therapy together. But first—because I don’t want to wait that long—I want to know…Mary, will you marry me and have my children?”
She lifted her tear-streaked face, the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. “Yes, Sam. I will. I love you so much!”
Inside him, Sam felt the last of the old walls and barriers crumble. He had expected it to hurt to feel so vulnerable again, but, much to his amazement, all he felt was joy and relief.
It wouldn’t always be easy. But it was going to be a wonderful life anyway.
Epilogue
The rain drummed on the roof, almost blotting out the sound of Elijah Canfield’s voice. Not that any one minded. This was the tenth straight day of rain, sometimes slow, sometimes pounding, as if the heavens were determined not only to douse the few remaining fires but to christen the ground for new growth. Already the barren earth around the church was alive with tiny green sprouts, although Sam had laid a carpet runner from the parking lot to the church door, to protect Mary’s gown from the mud.
“Do you, Sam Canfield, take this woman, Mary McKinney, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”
Sam looked into Mary’s green eyes, brimming with tears. “I do,” he said, in a voice that betrayed the depth of his own emotion. As if to make sure Mary didn’t misunderstand the quiver in his voice, he added, “I sure do.”
Elijah’s voice now wavered a bit. “Now then, these two having exchanged vows in the presence of God and witnesses, and by the power vested in me by the State of Colorado, I now pronounce you man and wife.” He paused to swallow. “Son, you may kiss your bride.”
Sam folded her veil back over her gleaming red hair, bespeckled with just a few flecks of silver glitter. “I want to sparkle for you,” Mary had said when she’d told him what she planned to wear. Sam had assured her that, whether she wore glitter in her hair or mud on her nose, she would always sparkle in his eyes. He remembered that exchange as he bent forward and met her lips, a kiss as soft as a butterfly’s breath, melting into a tight embrace.
“I am yours forever, Sam Canfield,” she whispered in his ear.
“I will love you until the end of time itself,” he whispered back.
They linked arms and walked down the aisle, stepping into the lightened drizzle amidst a hail of birdseed. Sam chuckled at the thought.
“What?” Mary asked, squeezing his hand.
“Oh, some of that seed will take root. Some of the new lawn around this church will be…ours.”
“Then you’ll have to mow it,” Elijah quipped, coming up behind them in his wheelchair. “After all, this old church is still standing because of you, son. You saved its life.”
“A lot of people worked hard to save this church,” Sam said. “No one more than you, Dad. Sometimes a battered, old husk is worth saving.”
“Yes,” Elijah said, nodding. “Sometimes it is.”
As if in agreement, the heavens responded with a roll of July thunder.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8368-2
JULY THUNDER
Copyright © 2002 by Susan Civil-Brown.
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