by Sally John
Britte laughed. Cal had come a long way, indeed, to fall in love not only with the pharmacist, but with her niece as well. His family was expanding even to cats and parents. His mother, who seldom traveled north in the winter, was in town for the wedding. Lia’s parents, who would care for Chloe during the honeymoon, were staying at Lia’s.
They made small talk about tomorrow’s events and their plans to spend Saturday night in Rockville before flying to Hawaii. Brady and Gina were taking a Caribbean cruise.
As Lia drew Chloe’s attention elsewhere, Cal turned toward Britte. “We got him.”
She started. “You what?”
“It was Jordan’s brother, Trevor.”
“Trevor! But he’s just a freshman!”
“And he’s a big kid, with a big mouth and an ax to grind.”
Britte felt confused. A child? “How did you find out?”
“I watched him during your games. He was angrier than his dad about his sister not playing. Red-faced, shouting derogatory statements about your…” His voiced faded.
“Coaching. Cal, I hear a lot of it. I know parents disagree with me right and left, and it comes out during games. I didn’t know kids would be concerned about it. Obviously, Trevor gets it from his dad.”
“Right. His opinion and his temper. I pulled Gordon Hughes aside at halftime this afternoon and told him I wanted to talk with his son.”
“Oh, Cal. During the game?”
“Sorry. Had a wedding tonight and another one tomorrow. No time to waste.” He flashed a grin at her. “The Twin Prairie principal let me use a classroom. Trevor Hughes said he was in bed that Wednesday night after your game. Britte, the kid was lying. His dad hesitated for a split second—he couldn’t prove he saw the kid in bed at that time—and then he started blustering, defending him.”
“So you don’t know for a fact that Trevor is responsible?”
“My gut tells me. Almost the same thing as fact.”
Britte wasn’t sure she agreed with that summary, but she didn’t argue. “Now what?”
“I filed a report after the game. Trevor knows I’m on to him. He won’t make a wrong move for a long time. If he’s tardy or jaywalks or looks cross-eyed at a teacher, I’ll be on his case.”
What had she just been thinking about Cal handling kids with a smile? Maybe it was only Chloe. “Cal, we’re not talking about an older, belligerent teenager. He’s a child.”
“Who assaulted you. Britte, he’s a belligerent teenager in the making. If somebody doesn’t crack down on him now, he’s headed for disaster. The point is, I don’t think you need to worry about him coming after you again. I told him if anything happened to you, I’d nab him so fast it’d make his head spin.”
“Oh, Cal. What did Mr. Hughes say to that?”
“He didn’t hear me say it.”
Thirty-One
Saturday afternoon Joel sat in a back pew, along the side aisle, and wondered what he was doing at a wedding for two couples he had only recently met, people who were not connected in any way, shape, or form to a single one of his high school students or to the school board. He was all for building community relations, but attending a wedding went far beyond that obligation.
Of course he knew why he was there. Not that it made sense, but he knew why. Britte Olafsson. The girl who was never far from his thoughts, whether he was awake or asleep. The girl who shot his orderly routine, his mind-set, all to pieces simply by showing up. The girl who had an uncanny knack for breathing life into feelings that were best left unfelt.
The headaches had returned. The sleepless nights. The memories. Would Nicky’s disappearance in Afghanistan alone have triggered those reactions? He didn’t think so. Nicky was military. Joel was military. Feelings were disassociated. He would have prayed for his cousin—as he did now—but it would have been routinely, not emotionally, not spontaneously, not with his own baggage, the baggage he had given to Christ years ago.
Kissing Britte was spontaneous. Kissing Britte broke the dam that had always separated real life from the uncontrollable. Real life was disciplined. Black and white. Two plus two equaled four. Anything outside of that was unnecessary and detrimental. It led to unnecessary complications.
Jesus was real life. Jesus came to earth and did what had to be done. He explained the way, and then He went to the cross. Disciplined. Following orders. Black and white. Two plus two equaled four. And He wasn’t married.
Up front now, the pianist, flutist, and violinist paused in their playing, shuffled sheet music, and began a new piece. Pastor Peter walked out of a side door, followed by Cal and Brady, formal in their tuxedos. As the music changed tempo, people stood and turned toward the back of the church. Joel followed suit.
He glanced at the dark-haired little girl starting down the aisle, at Lia on the arm of her father. His gaze was drawn beyond them, to the foyer, to blonde hair glistening in a streak of winter sunlight pouring through a front window.
Now she stood in the doorway, waiting for Lia to reach her destination. While other eyes followed the first bride, Joel could not take his from Britte. Her hair was up, a few loose wisps grazing pearl earrings. From this distance, the bruise on her cheek was only a slight shadow, only conspicuous because he looked for it. She wore a soft-looking red dress and a pearl necklace as well as the sapphire on the gold chain he had given her.
Britte wasn’t a classic beauty. She wasn’t the current version of cute. In a word, she was striking. Her Nordic height and blonde hair and blue eyes attracted attention. But those were merely physical attributes. Joel knew it was her personality that had prompted him to take a second, longer look. Her character, her dedication, and her focus intrigued him to the point of…to the point of Christmas night.
Now, as she glided down the aisle, she looked every inch a princess. She turned her face his direction, looked directly at him, and smiled.
And why was it a princess would be interested in a murderer?
Biting the inside of her cheek, Britte managed to kept the tears from falling as she stood at the front of the sanctuary alongside Gina. The young woman who would become her sister-in-law in a matter of moments was gorgeous. She wore a simple white satin gown. Her natural beauty didn’t require enhancement. Her chocolate brown hair was turned under, tucked behind her ears, adorned with a circle of pearls from which flowed a short, lacy veil that only partially hid the gazillion tiny, satin-covered buttons down the back of the dress.
Between Gina and Lia stood Brady and Cal, both magnificent in black tuxedos with white cummerbunds and white bow ties, their broad shoulders dominating the space. Next, Cal’s beautiful bride wore a luscious gown more frilly than Gina’s, which suited Lia. Pearl-studded lace covered the satin. A thick, pearly headband secured her jet-black hair off of her face; a pouf of a veil floated out behind it.
Last but not least stood little Chloe, a miniature portrait of Lia, her blunt-cut, thick black hair vivid against her red dress and ivory skin. At the moment she looked uncertain, probably concerned about when to take her aunt’s bouquet, when to hand it back, when to turn.
Britte caught her eye and winked. The girl rewarded her with a smile.
There was a movement near the piano. Isabel was standing now to sing. Unable to get away from her new job in Chicago, she hadn’t arrived until sometime last night with Tony. She had stayed at Lia’s, he at Cal’s.
Britte swallowed. The moment was too much. Brady…her brother and childhood friend. While their sister played with dolls, Britte tagged after him, getting under his feet when he shot baskets. Today he was marrying his perfect match. Then there was Cal, in many ways another brother to her, grown into a man and marrying a lovely woman. Gina and Lia…two cherished new friends marrying the old sports buddies. And Joel…the mystery, sitting out there, the object of her anticipation. Would they go through the buffet line and sit together at the reception? Would they dance again? And now Isabel, the dear friend she missed so…adding the final, glowing touch wi
th her incomparable voice.
Britte resumed biting the inside of her cheek.
In the sun-drenched church foyer, at the end of the receiving line, Britte stood next to Brady. The couples were greeting friends and family before the photo session, which promised to be long given the fact that there were two wedding parties involved.
During a lull in the activity, Brady said to her and Gina, “Do you know how you can tell if the wedding is in the Midwest?”
Britte groaned. “Gina, didn’t you make him promise no Midwest jokes today?”
She giggled and shook her head. Evidently the woman was in love. Who else would so graciously endure his sappy humor?
Brady grinned. “When it’s a double wedding and still you know every single person in the crowd.”
The newlyweds laughed while Britte shook her head. Her brother did not know every single person in the crowd. Not even close. He didn’t know Lia’s friends from Chicago.
Gina didn’t have any out-of-town friends, which saddened Britte. Naturally, Valley Oaks was a little far for Californians, but in recent months Gina told how her entire life revolved around her veterinary work at a wildlife preserve. When that job went haywire, her friends, who were all workrelated, grew distant. On the other hand, she had more Valley Oaks relatives than they did. Between them and the Olafssons, she had easily been drawn into a loving circle.
Joel approached, his height making him visible over a group of Gina’s cousins now passing. Britte tried to ignore the first notes of that brass band warming up somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.
At last he reached her. He grasped her outstretched hand in both of his, and then, in the manner of old friends, he leaned toward her until his cheek touched hers. “Hey, Princess,” he whispered in her ear.
Speechless. Again!
He looked her in the eye, still holding her hand between both of his. There was warmth in his gaze, but he didn’t smile. He squeezed her hand. “I have to go see my aunt and uncle. In Chicago.”
“Oh, Joel. Your cousin?”
“No word yet. They need moral support. I’m sorry. I’ll miss the reception.”
“Of course.” It couldn’t wait a few more hours? No. She refused to whine. She was 29 years old. She would not whine. She would not ask for more than he was willing to give. “Thank you for coming to the wedding. I know Brady appreciated it.”
He let go of her hand. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Bright and early, Mr. Kingsley.”
Alec steered little Mandy around the dance floor to the instrumental version of a vaguely familiar, slow tune. “Mind if we change partners, honey?”
His little dark-haired replica of Anne smiled up at him. “Oh, Daddy, you’re not asking me to dance with my brother!”
“Hey, he’s all dressed up and behaving like a human being tonight. And I want to dance with Mommy.”
Mandy giggled. “All right.”
He swung her between other couples and neared Anne dancing with their son. “Drew. Your sister wants to dance with you.”
He smiled, kissed his mother’s cheek, and held his arms out for Mandy.
Laughing, Alec caught Anne in his.
“Hey, mister.”
“Hey yourself, sweetheart. What’s gotten into Drew? He even danced with Grandma Lottie without my prompting.”
She smiled. “He’s showing off. Have you noticed that pretty girl over there? The blonde in the sparkly dress?” She tilted her head.
Alec turned that direction. “Ahh, that explains that. Who is she?”
“A distant Olafsson. Her family lives over in the Quad-Cities.”
He smiled at her. “Having a good time?”
“Great time. We haven’t had a family outing like this since I can’t remember when. Our kids don’t have one personal friend here. We should regularly check out receptions at this hotel and invite ourselves in. It’s such a treat to see all three kids interacting with others.”
“Even strange girls in sparkly dresses?” He winked.
“Even that. Not counting the wrestling match with Britte, he’s growing up, isn’t he?”
“He certainly is. I like our kids, Annie.”
“I do, too. I was thinking we could let them take care of each other while we go out for dinner tomorrow night.”
“New Year’s Eve?” Every place would be crowded and noisy, impossible to get a reservation. “We said we’d chaperone the youth group’s all-night party.”
“That doesn’t start until 8:30. We could meet Drew and Amy there after they take Mandy over to Chloe’s.”
“Sounds complicated. And then we’d have to stay up all night after a big dinner. You look sensational tonight, by the way.”
She leaned into him, placing her chin against his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“What is this song?”
For a moment she was quiet. “Something or other ‘Melody.’ Something about God speed your love to me.”
“That’s it!” He hummed a few bars, and then he sang the one line he knew, “Are you still mine?”
“If you take me out tomorrow night.”
He chuckled softly in her ear. He’d always loved her sense of humor.
Late Saturday night after the reception, Britte and Isabel sat on the carpet amidst pillows in front of the fireplace in Britte’s living room. The gas log emitted more glow than heat, but it added a cozy ambience along with the Christmas tree’s twinkle lights. They wore flannel pajamas and munched from a large bowl of popcorn.
“Oh, Britte.” Isabel’s caramel eyes and auburn hair shone in the soft light. “It was so great seeing everyone. I miss living here. Sort of.” She winked.
“Sort of. I take it Tony has something to do with the ‘sort of’ remark?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” She laughed. “It’s so kind of your parents to let him stay at the farm.”
“It’s so kind of him not to mind. With Lia’s parents and Chloe staying at your old house and Cal’s mom at his place, there wasn’t much of a choice. There’s enough space for you out there, too, you know, but I’m glad you’re here instead.”
“Of course you are.” Isabel raised an arm, bending it at the elbow and placing a fist against her forehead. “I’m well known for my bodyguard prowess.”
Britte laughed. “Thank goodness Cal took care of that need before he left town.”
“Good old Cal, the cop. I never would have imagined him romantic enough to plan a honeymoon in Hawaii.”
“I was impressed. It was as good as Brady’s surprise Caribbean cruise.”
“Do you think they did their planning together?”
“You know they did, Isabel. Those two talk about everything. So which honeymoon would you prefer?”
“Mmm, I’d probably choose Mexico.” Isabel smiled. “Tony would like that.”
“Is it serious, then?”
“It’s…progressing. Beautifully progressing, step-by-step. He’s growing in his faith. We see each other about three times a week. He’s attentive, but not pushy. In a way, we picked up where we left off in college, but in another way everything between us is brand new.”
Britte’s throat felt dry. “I’m happy for you. And envious.” Isabel reached over and patted her arm. “But we know how to be single, right, Britte?”
“Right. Jesus is with me, and no human could replace Him or love me like He does. He keeps me from being unbearably lonesome. I think I’m feeling the envy because of all the wedding stuff and— Oh, I don’t want to go there.”
“Joel Kingsley.” It was a statement.
Britte stared at her.
“It showed.”
“It did not.”
“It did.”
“It couldn’t have. He wasn’t even at the reception.”
“Things were sizzling in the receiving line.”
“No way.”
Isabel smiled apologetically. “’Fraid so. And I know it’s not my imagination, else you wouldn’t be blush
ing right now. So, ’fess up. What have I missed in five short weeks?”
“Adrenaline and Christmas magic.”
“Huh?”
“Isabel, I think it’s my imagination. I mean, I thought something clicked between us. I finally admitted that I was— had been—attracted to him.” She relayed the details of the confrontation in Joel’s office, of being together Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. “It was probably just because we spent so much time together. We were both alone. I needed a knight in shining armor. He was available. He kissed me Christmas night, outside in one of those wondrous snowfalls. We kissed a few times.” She stretched out on her back, on the floor, and groaned loudly. “And now he’s out of town. Legitimate excuse, but the timing isn’t.”
“Fire-breathing coach wants her man right now.”
“Isabel!”
“Well, my goodness, Britte. It sounds as if things just started developing about a week ago. Give it some time.”
“I saw it in his face. Things aren’t going anywhere. There’s something else going on in his life.”
“Tell me about him.”
Britte sat up. “He’s whipped the school back into shape. The community at large still isn’t sure about him. He steps on toes, but he gets results. I don’t think there’s marijuana exchanging hands in the rest room anymore.”
Isabel wrinkled her nose. “I keep hoping Valley Oaks is innocent. Wasn’t Joel in the military?”
“Marines, for eight years. He’s lived all over the world. He doesn’t talk much about it.” They exchanged a look. “He’s old enough for Desert Storm.”
“Bingo.”
“What do you mean?”
“My oldest brother was there, with the army. He doesn’t sleep well. And he doesn’t talk much about it.”
Britte felt suddenly tired, as if the plug had just been pulled on her reservoir of energy. “Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s like the other principals. He won’t be around long.”
“But it does matter. You care about him, don’t you?”