Faithfully Yours

by Lois Richer

  “I think it’s better if I go now. Before things get any worse,” she told him quietly. “I don’t want to cause any more problems for you. You did a wonderful presentation at Christmas. That should help you when you decide to apply for a better position.”

  “But why now?” he demanded.

  “It’s a good time. People will assume I’m leaving because our engagement broke off. No one will blame you. You can go ahead, do your job as you planned without my interference.” She refused to look at him. “It’s for the best.”

  “Gillian?” His finger tipped her chin upward and she had to meet his gaze. He was frowning at her, as if he couldn’t figure it all out. “I know I’ve led you to believe differently, but I really don’t care what people think about this supposed engagement,” he assured her quietly. “If I’ve learned one thing while I’ve been in Mossbank, it’s that people will talk regardless of what you do, so you might as well try to please yourself.”

  There was silence in the tiny kitchen as Gillian digested this piece of information.

  “Besides, I don’t want you to go. I’ll have to hire a substitute until the board can find another teacher. The children will be upset at losing you. It causes an awful lot of problems,” he complained loudly.

  “There’s not really any problem,” Gillian told him steadily. “Flossie Gerbrandt has agreed to cover for me until they can find someone else. She’s a very good teacher and she’ll be thrilled to be working with you.”

  “I don’t want Flossie Gerbrandt,” he thundered, his eyes dark with fury. “The woman follows me around constantly as it is, asking all manner of ridiculous questions.”

  “She’s got a crush on you,” Gillian told him gently. When his eyes opened wide, she nodded. “Flossie is very shy and has trouble getting a conversation started. But if you give her a chance, I’m sure you’ll find you both have a lot in common.”

  “Hah,” he grunted. “Like what?”

  “Classical music, for one thing. Flossie plays the cello and she’s very good.” Gillian made herself say the words even though she detested it. “And she’s been to England, too. You could talk about that.”

  “I don’t want to talk about classical music or England,” he barked. His eyes narrowed. “What will happen to the youth group? I can’t manage it alone.”

  “Jeremy, you have a wonderful way with these kids once you let yourself loosen up. Why, only this morning David was telling me about the excellent advice you gave him. They respect and admire you. You’ll do fine.”

  “What advice?” he demanded, frowning. “I don’t have any advice to give teenagers. I don’t know anything about them.”

  “Something about not pointing out his girlfriend’s bubble gum,” she murmured, trying to remember exactly what David had said. “I don’t remember exactly.”

  Jeremy did. All of a sudden the conversation sounded in his mind, crystal clear. He heard himself telling David to either accept the flaws or find someone else.

  What a farce it was! Here he was driving away the one person who made him feel things he’d never felt, because he couldn’t accept who she was.

  “Gillian, I wanted to tell you that…”

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “I’ve just got to get going. I promised Faith that I’d finish her headpiece. The wedding is tomorrow, you know.” She studied him for a moment. “Are you sure you won’t walk her down the aisle? You are her only family.”

  Jeremy wished fervently that he’d never withheld himself from his aunt’s wedding plans. He dearly wanted to make her happy, and since she seemed intent on going through with this wedding, he knew it was pointless to keep arguing. He owed her that much. And a lot more.

  “Well, I’m sorry that you can’t give in on this one issue,” Gillian told him sadly. She glanced away from his searching eyes. “But I do have to go. Faith needs all the support she can get right now, and I can’t let her down.” She smiled in a way that made Jeremy’s heart race and the blood pound in his ears. “But don’t worry, I’ll see you again before I leave.”

  “When will that be?” he asked, thoroughly out of sorts with the whole conversation. Was he never to be allowed to finish a sentence with this woman?

  Gillian swept through the kitchen to the front hall, snatching up her coat and shrugging into it before he could help her. It irked him. He’d wanted to touch those bright, curling strands once more.

  He’d wanted to touch her.

  “I’m going to spend Christmas with Hope. I don’t want her to be alone. But the next day I’m heading back to Boston. It’s time I got on with my life. See you!” And with a wave and a halfhearted smile that tugged at his heart strings, she walked out the door.

  “Wonderful,” he muttered, flopping down onto the sofa. “She doesn’t want Hope to be alone. Art doesn’t want my aunt to be alone. Why am I the only one who’ll be alone?”

  “Because you want it that way.”

  His head whirled around in surprise. Hope Langford stood in the doorway, a frown marring the clear beauty of her face.

  “I beg your pardon?” He couldn’t believe she’d interrupted his private conversation. Even if it was with himself.

  “You should—from a lot of people. But I’m not sure I’m one of them,” Hope muttered as she hung up her coat and removed her snow boots. When she came into the room, her clear blue eyes chastised him roundly,

  “You do realize that you’re making everyone-thoroughly miserable, don’t you?”

  “Me?” He stared. “What have I done?”

  “You’ve hurt my niece, for one thing.” There was a cold fury in the voice.

  “But I’ve been trying to persuade her to stay. She won’t listen. She’s determined to go, so that our ridiculous ‘engagement’ will be terminated. She thinks people will blame her and feel sorry for me. As if I want that.” Jeremy clenched his fist in anger. “I want her to stay.”

  “Gillian is in love with you. How do you think it feels for her to know you don’t want anything to do with her—that you dislike so much about her?”

  “I don’t dislike her at all. I love her!” His mouth fell open in amazement. He hadn’t realized the truth of the statement until just now.

  “Is that why you let this supposed engagement go on so long? Is that why you called her selfish and inconsiderate and bullied her for weeks on end? Because you love her?” Hope’s voice bit into his with disdain. “Some love.”

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed in stupefied wonder.

  “Are you going to try and order her around the way you’ve ordered Faith? You’ve made my niece’s life a misery, Mr. Nivens. She can’t even enjoy Faith’s wedding, although she’s worked like a trooper to make it happen. Gillian’s so worried that you’ll do something to spoil your aunt’s happiness that she’s not eating, not sleeping. Your ‘love’ is tearing her apart.”

  Jeremy winced at the scathing reprimand.

  “I do love my aunt, Miss Langford. And I have no intention of spoiling her day. I wish her and Art every happiness.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. I was merely concerned for her safety. But since they found the tumor, well,” he swallowed down the fear and continued, needing to tell someone. “I’ve realized that she might only have a little while left I want it to be a happy time.” He barely caught the next words.

  “It’s benign.”

  “What?” He stared at her, afraid to believe.

  “She got a phone call this morning while I was there. It was benign. Nothing to worry about. The doctor said she’s fine.”

  “Oh, my God!” Jeremy breathed a silent prayer of thanks, sinking back onto the sofa. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Neither could she. But she’s afraid if you find out, you’ll try to stop the wedding.” Hope’s words were blunt, but Jeremy welcomed them. They cut to the heart of the matter, and he had no time to dawdle now.

  “I’m not going to stop it,” he told her grinning. “I’m going to
be part of it.”

  Hope’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, and she threw herself into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Jeremy. Thank you so much.”

  He grinned. “Don’t thank me,” he told her softly. “It’s going to be my pleasure.” He smiled slowly, setting her back on her feet. “But do you really think you should go around kissing the man who is engaged to your niece? Even if we are going to be related?”

  Hope stared at him as her hands automatically straightened her tidy hair.

  “But it’s all a sham. A pretense. You’re not really going to marry Gillian.” Her eyes widened. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you?”

  For once, Jeremy felt as if the whole world was his. With a peculiar little smile, he hoisted himself from the sofa and walked slowly over to the door, yanking on his jacket as he went, mindless of the way he unevenly buttoned it.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “I think I am.” He pulled open the door and stepped outside, completely unmoved by the icy wind or the whirling snowflakes. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  As he swept out the door and down the walk, Hope rushed over to close the door, pausing a moment to watch him hurry away in his compact sports car with an unusual grinding of gears.

  “My, oh my,” she murmured, pressing the solid oak door into place. “Will wonders never cease?”

  She was still standing there a few moments later when the doorbell rang. Half fearfully, afraid he’d come to his senses, she opened the door a crack and peered outside. A group of fifteen or twenty teenagers stood outside, grinning like a pack of wolves.

  “Is Jeremy here?” one of them asked. “We’re supposed to deliver the cookies this afternoon and he and Gillian were going to drive us.”

  Hope smiled, a wonderful heartfelt smile that lifted her stern lips and brought a glow to her eyes. “I think,” she told them happily, “that we will have to make alternate arrangements. I’m afraid Jeremy and Gillian are going to be tied up.”

  “Property settlement,” Janice Cheevers nodded knowingly. “Always happens when there’s a breakup. Too bad. They were a neat couple.”

  “Yeah,” a tall, lanky boy muttered as he brushed past Hope. “I dunno why they don’t just kiss and make up. Isn’t love supposed to forgive all?”

  “With God’s help,” Hope murmured, closing her eyes in a soft prayer. “With God’s help.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The small church was packed to capacity for Faith Rempel’s wedding. Gillian had seen no one that she couldn’t identify from the small community, and every single face beamed with good wishes for the elderly couple.

  The Christmas decorations were glittering in the candlelight of hundreds of glowing tapers decorating the platform. She herself had arranged the silky flowers in graceful baskets which would be changed tomorrow to hold the fresh arrangements for the Christmas Eve service tomorrow night. Everything was ready.

  Except for Jeremy.

  No matter how hard she searched, Gillian couldn’t find his face anywhere in the happy group of well-wishers. Well, why would he be there? she asked herself firmly. He’d rejected his great-aunt’s decision adamantly. He wouldn’t change just because she had begged him to.

  Minnie Klemp pressed the loud key on the organ and everyone surged to their feet. Gillian watched as her aunt stepped down the aisle first. Hope looked magnificent in her emerald silk suit, gliding slowly down the aisle as she cradled her creamy white Persian roses gracefully across one arm. She took her place beside Harry Conroy, the local judge and Art’s longtime golf buddy.

  Next came Charity, carefully following the carpeted path in her odd-gaited, delicate mincing steps, covered from head to toe in bright holly-berry red. Her roses were also white and she carried them proudly, her arthritic fingers grasping them tenderly. Her partner, Frank Bellows, slipped his arm through hers in support, and Charity smiled up at him gratefully. Gillian grinned. If she wasn’t mistaken, the undertaker had a special glint in his eye when he looked at Charity Flowerday.

  Then all heads focused on the back as Faith came through the door. Her wedding dress was an elegant ivory lace that lent a glow of radiance to her jubilant face. No one could say this radiant woman was too old for a bridal gown, Gillian thought fiercely. Jeremy’s aunt looked blissfully exultant in the timeless silk gown.

  Faith carried a bouquet of crimson red roses interspersed with deep green foliage. They were tied with a pale glossy ribbon and she held them with one hand. Her other was looped through Jeremy’s!

  Gillian gasped. He’d come. He’d actually relented and come to the wedding. Not only that, he was participating and from the look on his face, enjoying it.

  She could only stare in disbelief as they walked slowly up the aisle. When they passed her, Jeremy’s eyes rested on her for a moment and Gillian felt the same old thud-thud her heart always gave when he was around. The glint of blue in his soft gray eyes made her knees weak with love. How could she go on, knowing their own pretended engagement would never result in such a wonderful finale?

  They stopped in front of her as Faith loosened one of her bright roses from the bouquet and reached past Jeremy to hand to it to her. Gillian took it with a lump in her throat, barely catching Faith’s whispered words.

  “For my soon-to-be great-niece.”

  Gillian forced herself to ignore the shaft of pain at the thought Faith’s words engendered. She couldn’t dwell on those words or she would burst into tears. Instead she forced herself to concentrate on the pair, young and old, moving regally down the aisle.

  When the minister asked, “Who gives this woman to be married?” Gillian heard Jeremy’s response in stunned disbelief. And then he handed his aunt over to her husband-tobe with careful elegance, pressing a kiss against her smooth, paper-thin cheek. A second later he was standing beside Gillian, holding her hand in his.

  The entire ceremony passed by in a daze for Gillian as she kept glancing at her and Jeremy’s entwined fingers. Opal Everet sang ‘Oh Perfect Love,’ Pastor Dave pronounced them husband and wife, and Arthur Johnson kissed his new bride with a gusto that brought appreciative laughs from the audience.

  But other than that, Gillian heard nothing. The soloist launched into her second number, but the words held no meaning, no special significance for her. In fact, Gillian was so out of it, Jeremy had to tug on her hand to get her to stand when Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Johnson were presented to the congregation.

  Gillian followed as the happy couple walked back out of the church and found her path through the church vestibule blocked.

  “I have to talk to you, Gillian,” Jeremy whispered urgently. “I’ve been trying to do that since yesterday. It’s important.” His eyes gleamed with some hidden fire, and Gillian could feel the tension emanating from his tall, lean body.

  She didn’t understand what he wanted. They had said everything there was to say. But something told her that whatever he wanted to say needed to be discussed away from the maddening crowd; without the interested gaze of the townspeople looking on.

  “This is Faith and Arthur’s day,” she murmured, slipping past him and into the crowd. “Whatever we need to say to each other can wait. I don’t want to spoil their day with another argument.”

  His fingers wrapped around her arm like tentacles, and he pulled her back into the protection of the pew, turning so that he shielded her from the rest of the wedding guests who were leaving the church.

  “Okay,” he agreed smiling. “If you insist, we’ll wait But, I need to do this now,” he murmured, before his mouth came down on hers in a soft demanding kiss that left her breathless but wanting more. “And you’d better be warned. I’m going to need to do that a lot more in the future. Come on.” He grasped her fingers, his eyes glittering with something she couldn’t decipher. “Let’s go help Auntie Fay celebrate.”

  And they did!

  They tossed confetti on the couple until the colored circles covered their graying hair and grinni
ng faces. They toasted them repeatedly at the reception and tinkled their glasses over and over, calling for the groom to kiss his bride. And before the couple left in their car, Jeremy tied a bunch of old cans to the bumper of Art’s Jeep while Gillian whispered a few last words to Faith.

  “I’m so happy for you and Arthur, Faith. You really belong together.” Gillian tried to mask the jealousy she felt at the beaming smile of pure happiness Faith gave her.

  “Yes, Gillian, we do. I’m so glad that God gave me another chance at love. And I have to tell you that I think He’s doing the same thing for you.” Faith patted her hand tenderly, the new band of gold sparkling on her finger. “I know Jeremy loves you. And I know you love him. You may have convinced each other that you’re only pretending to be engaged, but I think that’s what you both really want.”

  “Oh, Faith,” Gillian murmured, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. “I know you’re confused about this but Jeremy and I were never really engaged. You just imagined that.”

  Faith grinned. It was a smug, self-satisfied grin that tilted the edges of her mouth and left her green eyes sparkling like a cat’s. “Did I?” she mused. “How strange.”

  There was a peculiar quality to those lovely eyes that had Gillian questioning her own sanity for a moment until Faith began speaking again.

  “My dear Gillian,” she said kindly. “I could never be confused about something so important. I deliberately threw the two of you together as part of my Christmas project. I knew that once you two learned to accept each other for who you are and stopped trying to change the other, you’d be happy together.”

  Faith wrapped her arm in Arthur’s and pressed her cheek against his shoulder lovingly. She smiled at Gillian who was backing away from the car.

  “Don’t disappoint us, dear,” the old woman whispered, just before the car drove off.

  “Disappoint them?” Gillian whispered to herself in perplexity. “Now what in the world had the old girl meant by that? Christmas project, indeed!”

  Gillian watched them go with confusion. What did any of it mean? Faith’s cryptic remarks? Jeremy kissing her? What had that kiss meant? Why was he there? What had suddenly changed between them?