Thistle Down

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by Sherrie Hansen


  Chapter 3

  The winds were blustery and cold and the snow was flying sideways, but the stone spires of St. Conan’s didn’t flinch or waver one iota. Just a few days earlier, they’d had a stretch of wonderfully warm weather. The grass had greened up, buds had burst open, and the air had been so warm that Ian had even thought about taking a picnic under the flying buttresses.

  Then winter had made a comeback. Crazy spring weather. He’d assumed the roads might be slippery, so he was surprised to see Emily Downey walk in the door. Alone.

  “Hello, Emily.” He jumped to his feet and greeted her with a handshake. He was grateful she’d come. It showed resolve and commitment on her part. Perhaps Benjamin was parking the car – if not, that was fine. Today was to have been about bonding, and he hoped that without the tensions that had been present at their last meeting, it could begin, if not with the couple, then at least with the bride.

  “I’m so sorry that Benjamin couldn’t be here.” Emily swiped her hair away from cheeks pink from the cold wind blowing off the loch and unbuttoned her coat. “One of his patients had a heart attack so he couldn’t leave town. It was either cancel or come by myself and I figured, given the line of work that my future husband is in, I might as well get used to doing things on my own.”

  She didn’t seem rattled in the slightest, or even disappointed, which Ian thought a little odd. But there were certainly things the two of them could discuss without Benjamin being there.

  She settled into the old leather chair opposite his desk and smiled up into his eyes.

  He blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her gaze. “So where shall we start?”

  “Wherever you like is fine with me.”

  He thought for a moment. “If I may, I’d like to ask you what attributes first attracted you to Benjamin? And what about the way you think of him now? How have your feelings changed in the four months since you first met?”

  “Benjamin is good and kind, honest, and extremely intelligent. He’s passionate about his work and highly respected in his field.” 

  The string of exceptional qualities that continued sounded more like a line by line listing on a resume, more like a business arrangement than a love story, but he tried to be respectful and listen.

  “And how has your relationship grown since you met Benjamin?” He didn’t use the word love because she hadn’t.

  “I don’t think it has. We’re both the kind of people who are very stable, solid, and purposeful. We know our own minds, and when we met, we both saw in the other exactly the kind of person that we’d been looking for and desired in a spouse.”

  He wanted to ask her if she believed in love at first sight, if she even loved the man, if her perfect fiancé had ever once claimed to love her. He wanted to ask her if she would even be considering getting married in May if her youngest sister hadn’t announced her own engagement. But he didn’t. He bided his time.

  “Is there anything that you don’t like about Benjamin?”

  “Would I be marrying him if there was?”

  “That’s a good question. Because, I’m here to tell you that despite all his wonderful qualities, your fiancé is not perfect. Given the short time that you’ve known one another, the thing that will grate on your nerves may not have made itself apparent – yet – but it will.”

  “Of course,” she said, as if realizing that the picture she had painted was too perfect to be believable. For a second, she looked flustered. And then, she did what any experienced PR person would – she put a positive spin on things.

  “That’s the magic, then, isn’t it? Each day we’re together will be full of new discoveries. Never a dull moment – that’s how we both like to live our lives. So we’re a good fit in that respect, too.”

  “Good.” He hadn’t expected her to break, not yet. It was a dance, getting to the truth, developing the trust necessary to bare one’s soul.

  He dialed it back a notch. “So I understand that Chelsea and you are the last two of your siblings to be married.”

  “Well, Chelsea will be. The last of us to marry, I mean.”

  “So, tell me about your other brothers and sisters. What kind of marriages do they have?”

  She looked flustered again. She hadn’t anticipated this question.

  “I’m the oldest, as I’m sure you know. My sister, Kara, is a year and a half younger than me. She was the first to marry, the first to have children.” Emily smoothed her skirt. “We’re very different, she and I. She had no desire to go to college or see the world. She married her high school sweetheart. They seem happy – I mean, he makes her happy. I’ve never quite understood it, but I respect her for knowing what she wanted and having the courage to follow her dream.”

  “And your brothers?”

  “Michael has been married for about two years now. His wife is nice enough. She’s expecting their first baby in April. Matthew and Melissa’s wedding was a year ago now, but they’re still acting like they’re on their honeymoon. What can I say? Young love...” 

  “Are you sorry you never had-”

  She laughed. “Relieved is more like it.” Her face turned serious. “When I look at Chelsea – I mean, she’s a smart girl when it comes to everything but Greg. He walks into the room and she’s brainless. If that’s what kind of fool love makes of a person, I’m better off without it.”

  “So you’re so afraid of appearing foolish that you’re ready to enter into a loveless marriage to avoid the possibility of losing control?” Now they were getting down to the truth.

  “That’s not what I said.” She was riled, which was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? To make her think, to get her to feel.

  “And Benjamin loves me dearly, so our marriage will hardly be loveless.” She still hadn’t said that she loved him. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever met my oldest aunt, Patricia MacDougall. Her son, Torey, is a professional golfer. They moved to Ayr several years ago, probably in part because of what happened the day Torey was to have been wed. I was ten or eleven years old. I can still remember how Torey looked, standing at the front of St. Conan’s in his kilt, waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle. It was like a fairy tale, really. She was as beautiful as a princess. All I remember about her was that her name was Mary Ann.”

  “What happened?”

  “She left him standing there. It was horrifying. He cried. A grown man. I can’t even imagine the humiliation. He really loved her, you know?”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Pastor Ian? Or may I just call you Ian?”

  “Certainly.” She was giving him the same intense look she had when they’d begun their session.

  “I don’t mean to offend you, but I just need to know that you’ll not repeat anything that’s been said here to Chelsea, or my mother, or my Aunt Margaret, or anyone else who may know me...”

  “You have my word.”

  “Thank you.” She put on her coat and got ready to brave the winds once more.

  “I’ll look forward to speaking with Benjamin next week.”

  A look of surprise flashed across her face. “Yes. Of course. Of course you’ll meet him.”

  “I’m sure he’s a fine gent.”

  She left a few seconds later.

 

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