by Davis, Mary
She was quiet a moment. “I do, too.”
“We can wait as long as you want.”
She thought a minute. “Is there any point in postponing the inevitable?”
He knew there wasn’t. “I’m not going to pressure you into anything.”
“Grandpa is.” She squared her shoulders. “We might as well make the plans straightaway if you’re willing.”
He smiled. “Very willing.”
Her smile came back.
❧
Two days later, Alice folded the old quilts she had made and ones her mother had made, and bundled the few other possessions her family still owned. Ian and Mr. Jackson would arrive soon to move her family. Ian had rearranged his house to accommodate them and had moved himself to a hotel until the wedding.
The crate caught her gaze, and she smiled; then she looked at her finger where the sliver wounds had healed. Ian had taken such pains to see that she was taken care of. He’d always tried to take care of her. From the first time she met him and he’d offered her a towel to dry off her face after coming down out of the rain, to getting her family out of this dirty little apartment. She looked back at the crate. It was silly, but she wanted to take it with her. They were leaving her bed and Grandpa and Burl’s mattress and the table and chairs. None of the few pieces of furniture were going with her. She didn’t need them at Ian’s, and she didn’t mind leaving any of it behind. . .except the crate.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
She sucked in a quick breath at Grandpa’s nearness. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her. How could he guess she had developed a sentimental attachment to a stupid crate? She turned to him.
Grandpa shook his head. “It’s not fair to him.”
Well at least she was sure he hadn’t guessed about the crate. “What’s not fair to whom?”
“Ian. You’re thinking that once inside his house, you can put off marrying him, and he’s so besotted with you, he’d let you.” Grandpa frowned.
She smiled. “Thursday morning at ten. Ian spoke with his minister and ours. That was the soonest we could be married.” She’d been so busy with all the arrangements that she’d evidently overlooked telling Grandpa that one important detail. “I planned for us to stay here until the wedding, but Ian wouldn’t hear of it. He insists that we move now. I’m not sure if it’s to get us out of this place or because he’s afraid I might change my mind.”
Grandpa smiled then. “Probably both.”
The door opened, and Ian, Mr. Jackson, and Finn followed Burl inside. Burl looked around. “Is everythin’ ready to go? We have a carriage waitin’.” He was certainly eager to get out of this place.
“Everything is packed there by the door.” Except the crate.
Burl grabbed up an armful of quilts and bedding and headed back out the door.
Mr. Jackson and Finn filled their arms and left as well.
“Are you ready to go?” Ian started gathering up the smaller bundles.
She nodded and grabbed the crate. “Let’s put those in here.” She set it beside him and put in her knitting bag, the soup kettle, and frying pan. That should be easier to carry.”
He smiled at her. “I’m marrying a practical woman.” He hoisted the crate and went out.
A smile pulled at her mouth. She was getting to keep the crate.
Grandpa left with Miles. She took one last look around before crossing the threshold. Relief washed over her as she closed the apartment door for the last time. She’d be a married woman again soon. Strangely, that thought sat well with her.
Eighteen
Alice stood, in a new white dress that Ian had bought her, at the back of her small church with Grandpa. She hoped she was doing the right thing, not only for herself but for Burl and Miles and Grandpa, as well. And for Ian. He deserved better than a half-willing wife. But she found that she didn’t dread marriage as she thought she would. She was surprised to find that she was looking forward to being Ian’s wife.
Burl and Miles sat in the front pew with Conner and Finn. Only a handful of people from her church could make it on such short notice, as well as a handful from Ian’s church. The sum total of her family was here, but none of Ian’s. His family lived too far away but would make the trip out in late spring. She’d offered to hold off the wedding until then, but Ian wouldn’t hear of it. He said his family understood and wished them well.
As she started forward on Grandpa’s arm, she looked up to the front where Ian stood in his new black suit. He smiled at her, and her breath caught. She stopped. It couldn’t be. Her heart hammered hard against her ribs.
Grandpa held fast to her arm. “What is it, child?”
“I love him.” The words came out in a whisper.
Grandpa chuckled. “I know, lass.”
She turned to him. “How? I only just discovered it.”
“I figured you were too scared to see the love right in front of you. That’s why I insisted on you marrying him. I knew you’d eventually figure out you loved him back. Now there’s a man up front concerned you have changed your mind.”
She looked at her husband-to-be. He did look worried. His smile was gone, and his brow creased.
“I have to tell him.”
Grandpa patted her arm with his stump. “You’ll tell him later.”
She made her way to the front with her revelation bubbling up inside her. She could see it now. The feeling that churned inside her every time she was around Ian was love. It had been there for so long battling for control and confusing her, but how it was free. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Grandpa gave her away and went to sit with Finn and the others. Ian said his vows; then it was her turn.
“Wait.” It wasn’t right to marry him like this. “I need to tell you something.”
“It can wait until later.” The V between Ian’s eyebrows deepened, begging her not to change her mind.
“No, it can’t. Then it’ll be too late.”
Ian closed his eyes. “Don’t do this. Please.”
She put her hand on his arm, and he opened his eyes. “Standing at the back of the church, I realized something. I know what love looks like.”
He raised his eyebrows in question.
“You. I love you. I had to let you know first. I’m marrying you because I love you.”
Ian’s mouth broke into a wide grin, and he stepped forward as if to hold her but thought better of it in public and stepped back, turning to the minister. “You can go on now. She’s ready to take her vows.”
And she was. She couldn’t wait to become Mrs. Ian MacGregor. She was going to enjoy being his wife.
Minister Pepper announced to Ian that he could kiss his bride.
Finally.
He kissed her tenderly and lovingly. She didn’t want him to let go, but he had to. The ceremony wasn’t over.
Minister Pepper smiled then presented them as Mr. and Mrs. Ian MacGregor. Then everyone gathered in the other room to congratulate the happy couple and share the simple wedding cake Alice had made.
That evening after all the festivities had died down, Alice’s family settled in for the night. Grandpa had gone to bed in his new bedroom before she’d even put Miles to bed an hour ago.
She met Burl and Tiny at the bottom of the stairs. “You all washed up for bed?”
He nodded. “Alice? Are you happy here?”
A smile pulled at her mouth. “Yes. Are you?”
He nodded even harder.
Her whole family seemed happy here. “Off to bed with you now. And don’t wake Miles.”
Burl tiptoed all the way up the stairs with Tiny on his heels. The huge Great Dane almost looked as though he were tiptoeing, too. She turned and went to join Ian in the kitchen but stopped short in the doorway. Ian had one foot inside the crate they had fought over. Her crate. Their crate.
Ian grabbed one of the side boards and yanked it free with a crack.
She gasped.
He turned to her.
“What are you doing?” She took a step forward.
“I was just getting rid of this old crate.” He pointed the thin board toward the open burner with orange glowing embers inside.
She hurried over. “You can’t.”
“Why not?”
She wanted to snatch the board from him. How did she explain what the silly old crate meant to her? Tears sprang to her eyes, and everything blurred. She tried to blink them away but only succeeded in pushing one out of each eye.
Ian set the board down on the covered side of the stove. “Don’t cry.” He caressed away her tears with gentle strokes of his thumbs. “We can keep it. I just thought it was a sad reminder of your life before.”
She sniffled and successfully blinked back the rest of her tears. “You held my hand for the first time because of that crate.”
He took her hand between his. “This one.”
She nodded. “I think that’s when I started falling in love with you, but it scared me, and I pushed the feelings away.”
He released her hand, and picking up the board, he bent down and fitted the nails back into their holes and pushed the board in place. “Good as new.”
She put her hands around his neck. “Thank you.”
He put his hands on her waist. “I’d do anything for you.” He pulled her close and kissed her.
“I love you, Mr. MacGregor,” she whispered when he pulled away.
“I love you, too, Mrs. MacGregor.” He smiled and kissed her again. Then he scooped her up into his arms and carried her upstairs to their bedroom.
About the Author
Mary Davis is a full-time writer whose first published novel was Newlywed Games. She enjoys going into schools and talking to kids about writing. Mary lives near Colorado’s Rocky Mountains with her husband, three teens, and seven pets. Please visit her Web site at http://marydavisbooks.com.
Dedicaiton
Dedicated to my children, Ben, Josh, and Jessi. And to the men and women over the decades who have made the underground Seattle what it is. And to Bill Speidel for bringing the underground back to life.
A note from the Author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Mary Davis
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