Lilly’s eyes sank closed, and she rested her head against the bedding behind her. “God, I promised.” Her whisper sank into the quiet of the room. “I give you my trust. Here and now. Please don’t fail me.”
As she lay propped against the bed, drawing in one breath at a time, the weariness and fear slowly dripped from her like ice cracking and melting under the sun’s glow. The peace left behind by the warmth filled every part of her.
It was her last coherent thought.
~ ~ ~
LATER THAT EVENING, Marcus sipped coffee from the steaming mug as he sat in Claire’s parlor and reread the last few verses in Matthew chapter eleven. Come to Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. What a promise that was. One he still needed a reminder of, apparently.
A soft scuffling brought his attention up. Lilly’s beautiful frame stood in the doorway, her long, dark braid laying across her shoulder.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here.” Her voice was groggy from sleep. Precious.
He patted the settee beside him. “Join me?”
She padded over to sit down. She left several inches between them, but Marcus slipped his hand behind her and pulled her close.
Lilly sank into him, resting her head against his shoulder. He breathed in the rosy scent of her. With his arm still behind her shoulders, he brushed the hair from her cheek with his fingers. So soft. Everything about her. How much she’d changed from the ramrod-stiff loner he’d first met.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here.” She repeated her statement, softer this time.
“I went to check on things at the church, but I wanted to be here when you woke.”
She raised her head to look at him. “The church. Oh, Marcus. You missed the service last week. I’ve kept you away. I’m sorry.”
He lightly pressed her head back to his shoulder. “No need to be sorry. Claire posted a notice while we were gone, and I’ll be there tomorrow to resume services.”
“Is that what you’re working on?” She nodded toward the open Bible in his lap.
“Mm-hmmm.” He leaned his cheek against the softness of her hair. “I thought I’d talk about how much easier things are when we give our cares into the Lord’s hands.”
She was quiet for a moment. Should he say more? Or let it go?
“I did that today.” Her words were so quiet it took him a moment to decipher them.
Then he straightened. “You did?”
She raised hesitant eyes to him. “Yes. I promised Him last night that if He brought Dahlia back I would give Him another chance. I had to keep my promise.”
Exhilaration sluiced through Marcus. He set his coffee mug on the side table and wrapped both arms around Lilly, pulling her even closer. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.” The back of his throat burned. “You won’t regret it.”
Her head pressed against his chest, and her words almost drowned in the cloth of his shirt. “I hope not. I do feel…lighter.”
As Marcus held this woman he loved more than anything else on earth, the words to a Psalm rang from his heart. Many, O Lord my God, are Thy wonderful works.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I THINK YOU’VE worn her out.”
Marcus eased Dahlia’s sleeping form onto the blanket as Lilly’s words drifted over his shoulder. It’d been a full morning for the little pixie, with the church service, then an afternoon picnic in the grassy area behind the church. The two of them had played hide-and-seek—apparently Dahlia’s first time—and then romped around the field with her riding pick-a-back. Now that he thought about it, a nap in the sunshine might be just the thing.
He flopped to the ground beside Dahlia and stretched out on his back as Lilly spread a second blanket over her daughter. “Isn’t the weather wonderful?”
Marcus squinted up at the sun. “A warm spell in December. Reminds me of North Carolina.”
Lilly returned to her spot on the blanket and eyed him. “Do you miss it?”
He turned to his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “You’ve asked me that before.”
She dropped her gaze. “I…guess I keep wondering if you’ll be leaving.”
This woman. How could she possibly think he’d want to leave all that God had given him here? Slowly, so she could see the firm intent in his face, Marcus raised to a sitting position. Then up to his knees until he knelt right in front of her. With both hands, Marcus cupped her face.
Lilly’s dark, luminous eyes grew wide.
“I want you to hear me, Lilly, because I mean every single word. I will not be leaving you. Not for any reason in my control.” He brought his face closer to hers and rested his forehead against her soft skin.
“Marcus.” The ruffle on her blouse rose and fell with her every breath.
Slowly enough to savor the nearness, he lowered his mouth. Closer. Her breath touched his skin, and he inhaled deeply. Closer. He touched her lips with his own.
Oh, sweetness.
She didn’t pull away, and he angled his head to deepen the kiss, closing his eyes to infuse every bit of love he had into the action. She responded, her hands slipping up to his collar, pulling him closer.
Something unleashed inside him, and he groaned, dragging her onto his lap. Closer. Deeper. He ran his hands down her back, planting one hand at the deepest part of the curve, while the other slid upward. His fingers plunged into her hair, its softness fueling his desire.
A sound drifted from Lilly, plunging a single prickle of awareness through the tempo of his racing pulse.
Marcus stilled. Oh, Lord. It’s too much. With every ounce of strength in his body, he pulled away, allowing cool air to touch his face where Lilly had moments before.
He didn’t stray far, just tilted away enough so he could soak in the beauty of her face. He slid his hand from her hair to her cheek. “So beautiful.”
Her dark eyes shimmered, drawing him back in. But he couldn’t. Not yet.
Marcus pulled back, putting more than a foot between them. He reached for both of Lilly’s hands.
A question played across her face. Maybe a little wariness?
He pushed forward.
“Lilly, I hadn’t meant to do this yet. I thought you might need more time, but…I can’t wait any longer.” Those weren’t the words he’d planned. Inhaling a deep breath, he tried again. “What I mean is…will you marry me? I want you to be my wife. And Dahlia my little girl.” He let out the breath and studied her reaction. Had he gone too far?
A flurry of emotions crossed her face, melding together until he couldn’t decipher any of them. She didn’t speak.
He rubbed his thumbs across the backs of her hands. “If you’re not ready yet, I understand. You can have time. I’ll wait until you’re ready.” Now he was rambling. He pinched his mouth shut.
Lilly’s gaze met his, shimmering sorrow. Sorrow? His chest ached. That wasn’t the emotion he’d wanted to inspire at all.
“Marcus, I… I don’t think I’m what you need. I wouldn’t make a good minister’s wife.” Her voice seemed so quiet in the expanse of space around them.
His heart squeezed even tighter. How could she think so little of herself? If only she could see what he did. He squeezed her left hand and released the other to bring his palm back up to her face. “You’re perfect, Lilly. Your strength and calm. Your caring. Everything about you is exactly what I need. You balance me. I’m impulsive and sometimes a little too pushy. I feel too deeply. But being around you helps to level me.” He brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “You’re perfect in every way.”
Her mouth quivered, and a breath shuddered her shoulders. “Are you sure you want me?” Those eyes, shimmering now with a yearning he was more than happy to fill.
“More than anything in the world.” He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her mouth. A promise.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I CAN’T GO in there.” Lilly stared through t
he crack in the church doorway at all the people filling the seats inside. Her pulse raced through her chest, louder than the harmonica drifting through the rafters inside. If she walked in there, every eye would be on her.
“You can do it, Lilly.” Claire kept a firm hand across Lilly’s shoulders. “All you have to do is focus on Marcus.”
“But there are too many people.” Hadn’t she said a simple wedding? With only their close friends? Perspiration dampened the skin under her chemise. What had Marcus been thinking to invite all these people? She twisted a handful of the pale blue silk of her skirt.
Miriam reached forward to loosen her grip and take her hand. “You’re beautiful. That gown fits you far better than it ever did me. You have Leah’s height and bearing, I’m so glad she passed it on to me so I can give it to you.”
Lilly glanced down at the fitted bodice with the tiny buttons marching down the front. The sleeves and gathered edges of the skirt had been stitched with an eggshell-colored embroidered crepe. The gown truly was lovely. She’d not worn anything as regal since she’d left England. What would Marcus think of it?
She glanced toward the newly-hung church door. He was in there. Waiting for her. She couldn’t disappoint him. Not Marcus.
“Are we gonna go inside, Mama?” Dahlia tugged on Lilly’s skirt, pulling her attention down.
Lilly inhaled a breath, then forced a shaky smile for her daughter. “Yes, honey. Marcus is waiting for us.”
“Let’s go then.” Dahlia reached toward the door and would have pulled it open and charged through if Lilly hadn’t grabbed the child’s shoulder.
“Wait a minute. We’ll walk together.”
Claire rubbed a gentle hand across her shoulder. “It’s going to be fine.”
Lilly forced herself to breathe. Breath in, breath out. In, out. Lord, I could use some help with this. She squeezed her eyes shut for the quick prayer, then opened them and reached for the door.
On the simple strains of the harmonica, Lilly gripped Dahlia’s hand and stepped into the room. The tingles of dozens of stares pricked her arms, but she kept her chin resolutely forward. She could do this.
And then her gaze snagged on Marcus and left her breathless.
Marcus. With his broad shoulders and square jaw, and the way his thick brown hair never quite stayed contained. So much like the man. Sometimes a little impulsive, but always with a heart so full of caring. This man loved her. The thought still filled her with awe and a warmth that sank through every part of her.
He watched her, as every step she took drew her closer. Close enough to see his eyes now, and the shimmer that washed them both. Marcus loved her. He’d proved it with every action, every word. And now, she was about to become his, truly and forever.
His gaze flickered down to Dahlia when they stopped before him. A smile pulled at his lips, and he reached forward and flicked her chin.
Lilly leaned down to her daughter. “Go sit with Aunt Pearl now, all right?”
The child darted to the front row and wriggled onto the pew beside the older woman.
Lilly turned back to Marcus, catching his eye with a shy smile. He reached for her hand, and for a moment, Lilly wished she didn’t have on the lovely kid leather gloves Claire had loaned her. Her skin ached to feel the warmth of Marcus, his touch. But he wove his fingers through hers, and together, they turned to face the minister.
Marcus had been elated when the pastor from Helena had agreed to come and perform the ceremony. Sheriff Timber was a licensed justice of the peace and could have filled the role without concern, yet having their wedding officiated by a man of God, here in the church where they would serve Him together—that had been so important to Lilly. And Marcus had readily obliged, looking more than a little relieved.
The reverend was speaking, and she forced her attention on him.
“Marcus Joseph Sullivan, do you take Lilly Marie Arendale to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?”
She couldn’t quite meet Marcus’s gaze, but she could feel the heat of his stare.
“I promise.”
With a whoosh, the air left her, and she was lost in the brown depths of his eyes. Marcus.
“Miss Arendale, do you take Reverend Sullivan to be your wedded husband…”
She focused on Marcus while the pastor continued, but she took in each word he spoke, pressing it deep in her heart to retrieve later.
When the minister finished speaking, she took a breath and smiled at the man she loved. “I promise.”
Epilogue
TEN MONTHS LATER
LILLY WINCED against the screams reverberating through the house. Under her hand, the muscles snaking down Marcus’s arm tightened as he clenched and unclenched his fists. She stroked his tanned skin with her thumb.
“Something’s wrong in there.” He gripped the bottom edge of the settee and pushed himself up to pace the length of floor in front of the fireplace.
She nibbled her lip against a smile as her tall, muscular husband fretted like a mare being weaned from her colt.
Another cry rent the air, stealing any humor from Lilly’s chest. Had something gone wrong with Claire’s birthing? Surely with two doctors attending her, not to mention Miriam, who was practically a nurse, they must have things well in hand.
An urge in Lilly’s chest propelled her to her own feet.
Marcus whirled at her movement, then his shoulders collapsed, and he scrubbed a hand through his thick brown locks. Lilly closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist. He closed her in, gripping her shoulders with a fierceness that almost took her breath. Literally.
“Claire’s in good hands,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll hear a baby cry any minute.”
He relaxed his grip and kneaded the muscles in her back. Lilly inhaled deeply, soaking in the strength and rich, masculine aroma of him. This wonderful man—God’s blessing for her. With his propensity to love so deeply, so…fiercely. How had she ever deserved him? Thank You for Your grace, Father.
She leaned back to share her thoughts, but a knock on the door stopped her words. She raised a brow at Marcus, but his were scrunched in confusion, too.
Lilly pulled from her husband’s arms and stepped toward the door. “I hope it’s not someone in need of a doctor. I don’t think Bryan’s in any condition to be left alone with the delivery of his child.”
When she pulled Claire’s front door open, a young woman stood on the porch. A rather elegant woman in a lovely hunter green traveling gown, perfectly fitted and trimmed with so many laces and gathers, like a fashion plate from Godey’s Lady’s Book. A sheer lace veil hung from the tiny matching bowler hat perched atop her complexly braided coif.
“Hello.” The debutante dipped into a half-curtsey, then rose to meet Lilly’s gaze. “I’m looking for my brothers, Bryan and Alex Donaghue.” Her focus wandered from Lilly to Marcus, who’d taken his place behind her. “I was told one of them lived here.”
Lilly blinked, then snapped her jaw shut. This was their sister? When Bryan said his baby sister Cathleen was coming for a visit over the winter, she’d pictured a quiet, mousey type, maybe a little homely.
“Of course. Yes.” She took a step back and motioned for the woman to enter. “This is Bryan and Claire’s home. But I’m afraid—“
Her explanation was shortened by another intense screech from the bedroom. Lilly’s heart jumped into her throat, but she forced a deep breath.
The other woman’s eyes grew round as Golden Eagles, and her white gloved hand crept up to cover the “O” of her mouth. “What? Who?”
“It’s Claire, Bryan’s wife. Their child…” Lilly paused as the lusty wail of a baby drifted from the back room.
If it were possible, the lady’s eyes grew even larger, at least to
the size of silver dollars now. Her hand lowered as a wide smile bloomed, highlighting the loveliness of her features. “Oh, my.”
The door to the bed chamber opened, drawing all three pairs of eyes. Alex appeared, wiping his hands on a cloth. After closing the door behind him, his gaze found Marcus first, with a lopsided grin. “Claire came through it admirably. Mother and daughter are doing just fine. Wish I could say the same for Bryan.”
Lilly let out a gasp. A girl.
A squeal from the door brought Alex’s attention. The look on his face when he first saw his sister sent a surge of warmth through Lilly’s chest. Utter delight.
“Cathy, you’re here.” He lunged toward her, and the young lady met him half way, swinging up in a flurry of skirts as he swung her around.
When she landed, she stepped back, a grip on each of his arms. “You look good, Alex. Did I hear my niece is born?”
He darted a glance back toward the bedroom door. “Miri’s cleaning her now. I’ll tell Bryan you’re here.”
As he slipped back into the other room, the young woman turned to Lilly and Marcus. “I’m sorry for my ill manners. I’m Cathleen Donaghue.”
“Of course.” Lilly stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m Lilly Sullivan and this”—she motioned behind her—“is my husband, Marcus, Claire’s brother.”
The girl clasped Lilly’s hand with a curious expression lighting her eyes. “Yes. I’ve heard of you both in letters. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“We heard you were coming,” Lilly said, “but didn’t expect you for another week at least.”
She shrugged. “I left a few days early. Mum wanted to write, but I would have arrived at the same time as the letter, so…” The jaunty twinkle in her eye displayed a striking resemblance to Alex.
As if summoned by the thought, the bedroom door pushed open, and Doc Alex leaned into the room. “Claire says for you all to come see the wee one.”
The Lady and the Mountain Promise (Mountain Dreams Series Book 4) Page 16