Love Unexpected

by Jody Hedlund

  Holy Bill paused and stroked his beard. “Patrick Garraty has a rough past. When I met him, he was a broken man—in more ways than one.”

  Josiah bounded out of the fishery, his red hair signaling a small beacon of happiness in the somberness of the day. He still flew his origami butterfly, weaving it back and forth more dramatically now. His loud flying noises made Emma smile.

  “Let the past stay in the past,” the reverend said. “All you need to know is that Patrick Garraty is a good man. You have my word on that.”

  At the sight of her still in front of the Burnham cabin, Josiah broke into a smile and darted toward her.

  “Where are you going, lad?” Patrick strode after his boy while absent-mindedly counting a handful of coins.

  “Buf-fly!” Josiah ran closer, holding out his paper creation. After all the bending and flapping, the paper was beginning to droop. Even so, the boy’s eyes sparkled with delight.

  Who knew such a small token would mean so much to him?

  When the boy came near, Emma crouched to meet him. “And how is your butterfly doing, little love?”

  “Fly away from spider,” he replied.

  “Oh, I see. He’s trying to escape from the spider that’s chasing him?”

  Josiah nodded. “Big spider.”

  “I think I’ve found a helper for you, Patrick.” Holy Bill clapped Patrick on the back.

  “Bless you, Holy Bill.” The relief in Patrick’s voice was tangible. “How’d you manage that so fast?”

  The reverend pressed his hat on his balding head and nodded at Emma. “God has provided Miss Chambers.”

  Patrick’s eyebrows arched. And although surprise flitted across his weary features, the kindness didn’t waver.

  Emma straightened.

  “She doesn’t have the light-keeping experience like Delia did,” the reverend continued, “but I’m sure you can teach her everything she needs to know.”

  “Then you’re a lightkeeper, Mr. Garraty?” she asked.

  Patrick nodded toward the distant tip of the harbor opposite from them. “For the Presque Isle Light.”

  Emma lifted a hand to shade her view. Above a cluster of spruce, she could make out the rising white tower of a lighthouse. A narrow clearing in the trees revealed another building, likely the keeper’s cottage.

  “He’s the best keeper the board could ever ask for,” the reverend said. “But it’s a tough job to do all alone, especially with a toddler in tow.”

  She could only imagine. “I’d be more than happy to help.” At least it would give her something useful to do until Ryan was ready to move on.

  Patrick hesitated with a glance toward the mound of soil that covered his wife. The blackness of the soil attested to the freshness of her death and also his grief.

  “I know it’s hard,” Holy Bill said, “but you said yourself that you can’t go on like this. You can’t do your job and take care of Josiah at the same time.”

  The lump in Patrick’s throat moved up and down. He managed a nod.

  “Miss Chambers is in desperate straits herself,” said Holy Bill. “Aren’t you, young lady?”

  “Aye. Quite desperate. I may not be skilled at many things, but I’ll do the best I can to help you through this rough time.”

  “I know the timing isn’t ideal.” Holy Bill seemed to be pleading with Patrick. “And it’s rather quick after Delia’s death. Still, we can’t turn down God’s answer to our prayers, can we?”

  Patrick pocketed his change and then perused her.

  Emma wasn’t quite so sure she was God’s answer to anyone’s prayers. She brushed her damp hair off her shoulders and knotted it into a makeshift bun. At her motion, he looked down at his rubber boots, which he twisted into the grass. Her appearance didn’t matter, did it? Not for assisting with light-keeping duties.

  “I don’t want to rush Miss Chambers,” Patrick said. “It isn’t a decision anyone should make lightly.”

  “Oh, you’re not rushing me,” she said. “I’ve got no other place to go. You’d be helping me as much as I’d be helping you.”

  “I don’t want you to regret it.”

  “I won’t.”

  He was silent for a long moment. Holy Bill seemed to be holding his breath. Josiah had spread out on the ground on his stomach and was marching his butterfly through the long grass.

  A play of emotions flickered across Patrick’s rugged face. “I’ll only do this if you’re comfortable with it.”

  She smiled and shuffled a tiny step forward. “Lead the way.”

  “Praise be to God,” Holy Bill said, retrieving his Bible from under his arm. “Let’s have the wedding so that Patrick can go home and get some much needed sleep.”

  “Wedding?” Emma rapidly retreated until she bumped into the log wall of Burnham’s cabin.

  Patrick exchanged a look with Holy Bill.

  “Yes, a wedding, to be married to Patrick,” Holy Bill said. “What did you think we were talking about?”

  Emma struggled to find her voice. “I thought Mr. Garraty needed an assistant.”

  “He does,” Holy Bill said. “But you can’t live with Patrick at the lighthouse without being married. It wouldn’t be appropriate for either one of you. The board would never approve of it.”

  “So you want to marry me, Mr. Garraty?” she squeaked.

  “Only if you’re willing.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she shifted her attention to Josiah and pretended that his hopping butterfly was the most important thing in the world.

  No wonder Patrick had inspected her. If she was to be his wife, he’d surely want to know what kind of woman he was marrying. Obviously he could see she wasn’t anything special. After his perusal, she was surprised he’d still wanted to marry her, not when he could have any other woman.

  But that was the problem, wasn’t it? There weren’t any other women. She was it. His lone prospect.

  “As I said, Patrick is a good man.” The reverend’s eyes beseeched her to give Patrick a chance, to refrain from passing judgment. But judgment about what? “He’s given his life to the Lord completely, and during these past few years I’ve seen him grow into one of the godliest young men I know.”

  “I’ve got a long way to go,” Patrick said. “I’m no saint.”

  “You can’t go wrong with this man.” Holy Bill grabbed Patrick’s arm and wrapped him in a half hug. Patrick started to protest when the reverend added, “What do you think? Do you still want to go through with it?”

  A crash, followed by a disgruntled shout, came from inside the log cabin behind her.

  She certainly didn’t want to stay with the Burnhams, not when she wasn’t wanted. But was that the right reason to marry a complete stranger? Then again, this could be the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

  Shyly she raised her gaze to meet Patrick’s. Embarrassment flitted over his features, and she could sense that he was as uncomfortable with the idea of marriage to a stranger as she was.

  “May I speak with Miss Chambers alone for a moment?” he asked Holy Bill.

  “Of course.” The reverend bent and patted Josiah’s head. “Come on, sonny. Let’s go down to the beach for a while. I’m sure you’d like to throw some rocks into the water.”

  At Holy Bill’s words, the boy sprang up. “Me throw rocks.” He raced for the shore, his little legs stumbling in his eagerness. Emma smiled, and she realized if she married Patrick, she would become Josiah’s new mammy.

  The thought, while surprising, wasn’t unpleasant. The boy needed a woman’s care—not that she knew all that much about caring for young ones. She knew, though, how to launder clothes, comb hair, and wash a face—which was apparently something Patrick was at a loss to do, at least with the child.

  Patrick cleared his throat and watched Josiah and Holy Bill as they headed toward the beach.

  She waited for him to say something, anything to break the silence between them. He obviously didn’t know what to say,
even though he’d been the one to initiate their private conversation.

  “I’m sorry for the confusion,” she began.

  “It’s my fault,” he said. “I shouldn’t have assumed . . . I should have known it was too good to be true.”

  Too good to be true? Did he think she was too good to be true? She, as in ordinary Emma Chambers? She who’d never had a proposition of marriage before?

  Even if the proposal was out of necessity rather than love, at least it was something when she’d never had anyone decent offer her the slightest attention. And now here was this godly handsome man offering to marry her and finally make all her longings come true. How could she refuse him? She had no other prospects except a life of more moving around.

  Though Ryan had promised they would settle down in Detroit, he was still too restless. He wouldn’t be satisfied working on the docks or in a fishery in Detroit forever.

  And where would that leave her? Single, childless, and homeless. Again.

  “You just took me by surprise, that’s all,” she said, her heart suddenly welling with the need to be married. “I’m not against the idea of getting married to you.”

  “You’re not?” His eyes widened.

  She shook her head. “I’ve been wanting to get married for some time now. I guess I just assumed it would be to someone I’d gotten to know and . . .” She wanted to say love, but the word stuck in her throat.

  Did love really matter at this point? Plenty of couples got married out of need, for reasons similar to Patrick’s.

  “Then you’ll consider my offer?” he asked.

  “I’m thinking.” She peered into his eyes, the eyes that had been nothing but kind and caring, despite all that had happened to him recently. She had Holy Bill’s word that he was a godly man. She’d witnessed the sweet way he treated Josiah.

  She’d be a fool not to marry him right here and now. Besides, maybe after they were married a while, love would have a chance to grow between them.

  She studied his face, starting with his unshaven cheeks and moving to his eyebrows to the tiny scar above one of them, down his slightly bent nose—likely broken at one time—to his lips that were full and strong.

  She’d never kissed a man. If she married him, would he kiss her today? Tonight? The very thought made her insides quiver. Lest he see the direction of her thoughts, she let her focus drop to his boots.

  “You don’t have to worry,” he rushed to say, his voice tinged with embarrassment, as if guessing the nature of her thoughts. “I wouldn’t expect anything. You’d get no pressure from me. . . .”

  She had the feeling he was referring to the intimacies of marriage, of which she knew next to nothing. And since he’d been married before, he obviously knew everything. Yet he didn’t say anything more, and she knew that was all the conversation they would have about that particular subject, at least for now.

  “I’m not a man of many words. So this is hard for me to say.” All the pain and heartache was back, making the green of his eyes dark and murky. “I’m not the saint Holy Bill makes me out to be. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of—”

  “It’s all right,” she cut in. “Holy Bill mentioned it already. He said we should leave the past in the past.” She wasn’t proud of her past either, that she’d never done anything to stop her father from stealing and killing. She could have been stronger, could have told him that she was willing to die to live rightly. Instead, she’d turned a blind eye.

  “I can’t have both Josiah and my job,” Patrick went on. “I’d have to give one up. Unless you marry me.”

  The stark truth of his words gave her pause and reminded her that he wasn’t all that concerned about physical attraction. He needed her as a mother for Josiah and a helpmate for his job. At least he was being honest about his intentions.

  “In return,” he said, “I promise I’ll take care of you and make sure you have a good home.”

  Maybe he wasn’t making any promises of love or happiness, but he was offering her a home. She smiled. A home was all she needed, all she’d ever wanted. “I accept.”

  His brow rose. “You do?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then you’ll marry me today?”

  Part of her conscience cautioned her to wait and talk with Ryan first, that she shouldn’t rush into this without her brother’s approval. But the other part of her warned her that he wouldn’t agree to her marrying a man she’d just met, that he’d demand she wait and learn more about Patrick first. If she didn’t want to lose her one and only opportunity for marriage, then she would have to act fast, before Ryan interfered with her plans.

  She took a deep breath to silence all the anxious fluttering in her stomach. “Let’s get married right now.”

  Chapter 4

  The lake breeze teased Emma’s hair so that loose curls tickled her neck. Her bare toes squished against the rocks and sand of the beach, and her damp petticoat stuck to her legs.

  She was getting married. The sunshine pouring down upon her bare head was like a blessing from heaven—at least she hoped so. Only hours ago she’d thought she was drowning, that she’d lost all chance of having hope and a future. Now here she was at the edge of Lake Huron, getting ready to take her vows.

  She stole a look at the man who was about to become her husband. The brim of his cap cast a shadow over his face, lending him a handsome ruggedness.

  He cocked a brow. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  Next to him, Josiah had both hands full of rocks of various sizes. Apparently throwing rocks could entertain him as readily as the paper butterfly she’d carefully tucked into her pocket.

  “I’m ready.” She forced a smile, trying to ignore the quavering in her legs. Was she really doing the right thing?

  Holy Bill opened his Bible and flipped through the thin pages. “Ah, here we are.” He stopped, smoothed the book reverently, and cleared his throat. “‘Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor,’” he started, reading from the text. “‘For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth, for he hath not another to help him up.’”

  Woe to him that is alone. That was certainly true in Patrick’s situation. He was doomed without her help. But was that reason enough to bind herself to a man in matrimony? After all, it was a lifetime commitment.

  Holy Bill continued to quote from the Bible. “‘Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?’”

  If two lie together, then they have heat. She resisted the urge to squirm at the words. She couldn’t imagine lying together with Patrick. At least not until she got to know him better.

  “‘And if one prevails against him, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.’” The reverend looked up and smiled, first at her and then at Patrick. “Marriage was ordained by God in Eden and confirmed by Jesus His Son at the wedding in Cana of Galilee, and is declared by the apostle Paul to be honorable among all men. Let’s begin by asking God’s blessing on your marriage.”

  When both Holy Bill and Patrick bowed their heads, Emma lowered hers in imitation. She had the desperate wish that God would bless her marriage. But how could she start praying to Him now and asking for blessings when she hadn’t talked to Him in years?

  At the reverend’s amen, Patrick echoed him softly in agreement with Holy Bill’s words. Patrick shifted to face the reverend, and Emma did likewise. Near the water’s edge, bunches of goldenrod grew in clusters among the sea grass, dotted with purple thistle—flowers for her wedding. And the rhythmic crashing of the waves was the music for the occasion.

  Maybe she didn’t have a pretty dress or a church, but the shoreline was like an outdoor cathedral. She couldn’t ask for anything better, even if the familiar stench of fish wafted over them, and the old men working among the drying racks had stopped their work to stare at the scene.

  Holy Bill turned to Patrick. “Patrick, wilt th
ou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinances in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep thee only to her as long as you both shall live?”

  “I will.” His response was low, but it rumbled deep in Emma’s soul nevertheless.

  Holy Bill looked at her. “Emma, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinances in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him and serve him, love, honor and keep him in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep thee only to him as long as you both shall live?”

  Keep him as long as they both lived?

  The cool wind blowing off the lake lifted the tendrils at the base of her neck and crept down her back. She peered out over the lake that stretched out forever like an ocean. Her thoughts tossed and tumbled with the waves.

  “Emma?” Holy Bill said. “You need to say I will.”

  She nodded and forced the words out before she changed her mind. “I will.”

  Holy Bill reached for Patrick’s right hand and then took hold of hers, placing it on top of her husband-to-be’s. The moment her fingers brushed against his roughened skin, she sucked in a breath. The contact was warm and too forward. She could only stare at their touching hands as he repeated the rest of his vows after Holy Bill.

  Somehow she managed to repeat her vows as well.

  “I pronounce that you are man and wife together.” Holy Bill closed his Bible and bestowed a satisfied smile on them, one that lifted his long white beard and mustache. His crinkled eyes sparked with happiness. “And finally, the best part. Patrick, you may kiss your bride.”

  Emma stiffened in surprise.

  Patrick started to shake his head, but Holy Bill cut him off with a laugh. “You may as well start things off right, Patrick, and get used to kissing your pretty new wife.”

  Pretty? She started to contradict him, but Patrick spoke first.

  “I don’t want to rush anything—”

  “It’s too late for that.” The reverend slapped Patrick on the back. “Besides, Emma isn’t Delia. I’m sure Emma won’t object, will you?” Holy Bill’s smile encouraged her to agree with him.