by Dora Hiers
Remi glanced at Mike then speared him with her confident gaze. “Mason, can you call 9-1-1 and then show Mike into the house?”
Nodding, he pulled out his phone.
Remi led Angela from the barn, her dark head angled toward his sister’s, whispering words of encouragement. Together with his mother, they led her indoors, Lessa scurrying ahead to open the door.
Mason gave the dispatcher the requested information and disconnected. He turned to his brother-in-law. “Come on, buddy. Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”
Epilogue
“You look beautiful.” Jillian’s fingers trailed along the gauzy veil then down the back of Remi’s wedding gown.
Remi studied her reflection in the full-length mirror leaning against her bedroom wall. Caught the longing on her friend’s face, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
The silky material rustled as Remi turned and grasped both of Jillian’s hands in hers. “Thank you, Jillian.” She hugged her best friend then stepped back, smiling. “Soon I’ll be dressing for your big day.”
Jillian scoffed and swiped at the moisture gathering on her cheeks, smearing her mascara. She shook her head. “Not anytime soon, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Remi snatched a couple tissues from the nightstand and handed it to her friend.
“Thanks. But I’ll need more than this to fix my face. I’ll be right back.” Jillian pulled the door open and sidestepped Lessa.
Her mother came up behind her and adjusted her veil. She wore a smile like Jillian’s, minus the longing. “You look as beautiful as I knew you would, honey.”
“Thanks, Mom. Can you help me with my necklace? My fingers are shaking too much to work that clasp.” Remi handed her mother the strand of pearls.
“You think mine will be better?” Lessa chuckled but took them with trembling fingers.
Remi turned back around at the cool touch of her mother’s fingers on the back of her neck. “There you go, honey. Turn around. Let’s see.”
Remi pirouetted, stopping to face her mother.
Her mother nodded, her chest lifting with a deep breath. Her fingers trailed a wisp of Remi’s hair until it disappeared under the veil. “You’ve come a long ways over the last few months, honey. Mason is good for you.”
“Who’d have ever thought that I’d marry a racecar driver?”
“God knew what He was doing when He brought Mason into your life.”
Remi smiled, remembering that first meeting.
A knock sounded on the bedroom door. Lessa cracked the door open, whispering to whoever was outside, then swung it wide.
“I’m heading outside, Remi. Love you.” Her mother blew a kiss at Remi and kissed her husband’s cheek as they passed.
Her stepfather stepped into the room. “Whoa! I’m not used to seeing you all gussied up. You look beautiful.”
“Meaning I don’t look beautiful in jeans?” Remi teased.
Ryan scratched the back of his head, his forehead furrowing. “Uh, that’s not quite…you look beautiful in whatever—”
Remi decided to let him off the hook. Chuckling, she rubbed the back of his suit jacket. “It’s all right, Ryan. I know what you meant.”
It wasn’t often he saw her wearing a dress. Or makeup. Or with a silly grin plastered on her face.
Relief swept across his features, and his eyebrows lifted. “It’s time, Remi.”
A heavy lump crawled down her throat. It’s not that she wasn’t ready to marry Mason. After more than five months of seeing him every day, of falling deeper in love with him, she was more than ready to dive into the next chapter of their lives.
They’d only invited a few guests, mostly family and a smattering of friends. But the media had their ways of sniffing out events like this. She wanted this day to be special, without worries about media hounds and paparazzi barging in to spoil this precious occasion with their endless questions and clicking cameras.
Mason had taken every precaution to keep the news from spreading, and the ceremony private, including hiring a security firm out of Charlotte.
Ryan patted her arm. “It’s all right, honey. You don’t need to worry. Everyone that showed up was on the guest list. Mason made sure of it. Every time I turn around, I’m bumping into one of those security folks. They’re scattered all over the animal sanctuary.”
Relief flowed through her like a cool glass of sweet iced tea on a scorching summer day. She nodded. “Okay, then. I’m ready. Let’s do it.”
She circled her arm through the crook in his and allowed him to lead her out of the bedroom. The house was quiet. The only sound she heard was the faint music filtering in from the reception tent set up on the grounds.
They reached the front door. Ryan stopped and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “I’m proud to call myself your father, Remi.”
A tear leaked from her eye, and she sniffled. “Let’s go before I chicken out.”
He shook his head. “Not likely. You’ve overcome so much to get to this point. You’re brave and courageous, and Mason knows what a fine woman he’s marrying.”
“You made sure of it, eh?” Smiling, she gazed up into the eyes of the man who’d brought the sunshine and laughter back into her mother’s life.
His tone was serious, along with his expression. “I would have a problem with you marrying the fellow,” he flicked his head toward the door, “if he didn’t love and honor you like you deserve. I might not have birthed you, Remi, but I love you as if you were my daughter.”
“I love you, too, Dad.” There she said it. The first time she’d ever called him by that title.
He sucked in a breath, and she ignored the moisture leaking around his eyes. He patted her hand then tugged the door handle. “Come on. There’s a great guy out there waiting for you.”
Mason was more than a great guy. He was the guy for today, tomorrow, and the next day after that. “Yeah. He is.”
Jillian stood on the front porch, waiting, two simple bunches of roses in her hand. Her sandy eyebrows arched. “Ready?”
Five o’clock, and the sun dazzled against a bright blue sky, not a cloud in sight. A perfect afternoon for a wedding.
“What are we waiting for?” She grinned. Now that she knew there weren’t any photographers or media hounds hanging around, her tummy felt lighter than it had in days.
“You, but now that you’re here, we can get this show on the road.” Jillian handed her the bridal bouquet.
“Thank you, sister of my heart.” Remi gave her bestie a quick hug, the scent of roses mingling with the sweet smell of cake and punch that drifted from the reception table. “See you at the front.”
Jillian’s jade gown swirled around her bare ankles as she pivoted, starting the short procession. She reached the bottom of the steps and waited for the signal, poised in front of the carpet runner leading to the area where the wedding ceremony was to be performed.
Ryan kept pressure on Remi’s arm tucked through the crook in his. Was he afraid she might bolt?
Not a chance. She wanted the handsome prize at the end of the runway.
Mason Mulrennan. A racecar driver. Who’d have guessed?
A smile teased the corners of her lips. God had used a racecar driver to work a miracle in her life, healing her from the bondage of fear and shame.
The first strains of music sounded, and Jillian stepped onto the carpet.
At least a hundred chairs packed with guests lined both sides of the path, but Remi only had eyes for the man standing tall and proud, his powerful shoulders stretched wide over long legs, hands folded behind his back, a handsome, enticing smile on his lips. His warm eyes beckoned her forward like a sandy beach drew an ocean’s wave.
Camdon stood next to her groom with the same pose, just taller and thinner. Goliath sat on his haunches next to Mason, a black bow tie draped around his furry neck.
Just ahead of them, Jillian stumbled, almost fell forward, but recovered by extending her arm. H
er blonde head swiveled from left to front, and her movements became awkward and gangly, uncoordinated, unlike her usual graceful, athletic style. What was wrong?
Ryan tightened his grip on her arm, frowning, and turned his head sideways.
Remi leaned around him, following his gaze.
A man strode toward them, his long-legged gait eerily similar. Her jaw dropped then she let out a tiny squeal. “Carson!” She tore away from Ryan’s grasp and, lifting the bottom of her gown, took the couple steps to reach him with lightning speed.
Her brother swallowed her in his arms, his grizzly face resting on the top of her head.
“You came.” Joy filled and expanded her heart to overflowing.
“Did you think I would miss my little sister’s wedding?” His jaw rumbled against her head, tugging on her veil, and she knew from the sound of his gruff voice that he was trying to compose himself. Her arms reached all the way around his back, with length to spare. He was so thin.
She gave him a moment then pulled back to look at him. A scruffy black beard covered his face, and his jeans were worn, his shirt ragged and too thin for the cooler spring temperatures. A book bag hung from one boney shoulder.
“Did you just get here?” she whispered.
“Yeah. Took me two weeks, but I made it. Just in time, by the looks of things.” Brown flakes speckled his green eyes. He looked more weary than adventurous after more than ten years of wandering, as his gaze looked longingly at the converted stable. “I suppose I don’t have time to shower or change.”
She loved her brother, but she wasn’t willing to wait one minute longer to become Mrs. Mason Mulrennan. “Not on your life, Carson Lambright. It might have taken you two weeks to get home, but you had more than ten years, and I’ve made this sweet guy—” Remi flicked her head in Mason’s direction then back to Carson “—wait far too long already. You’re fine just as you are.” And he was. She was so happy to see him. She didn’t care how he was dressed. “Go on up to the front row and sit with Mom.”
Ryan clapped a hand on Carson’s shoulder. “Your mom will be thrilled to see you, Carson. I’m glad you came home.”
“Ryan?”
“Yeah.”
Tears leaked from Remi’s eyes as the two embraced. She swiped at them with the tip of her finger. When Carson pulled away, his cheeks were moist, too.
The music changed to the wedding march, and guests from both sides of the aisle stood, their faces angled to the back.
Carson slipped off to the side, behind the last row of guests. Far enough that he wasn’t visible from the smiling faces pointed in her direction.
Remi swallowed. Time to go. Did she call attention to her brother by asking Ryan to escort Carson to the front row to sit next to Mom?
She wouldn’t appreciate if someone did that to her, and she didn’t think Carson would, either.
“Would you like me to walk with you to the front?” Ryan offered her brother.
Remi held her breath, her fingers almost crushing the long rose stems she clutched in her hand.
Carson tugged a chair from the last row. “Thanks, Ryan, but I think I’ll just take a seat in the back for now.”
Remi hesitated. Would he slip away again before she had a chance to talk to him?
“Go on, Remi. I’m here to stay. We can catch up later,” Carson whispered, his expression solemn and weary as he nodded toward Mason.
She let out the breath she’d been holding, releasing Carson back to God. How easy it was to give a problem to God, but then try to take it back.
She didn’t need a second invitation to marry the man she’d found stuck close through tough times. A man who showed her that he wouldn’t give up or wave the white flag of surrender. A man who, through his patient love, had encouraged her to stretch her boundaries and freed her from the chains that had taken over her life. She’d become stronger, braver, than she ever dreamed possible.
Yeah. He was a man she could depend on. But he was so much more.
A soft breeze ruffled Remi’s dress and she shivered, but it was more from peace and contentment rippling through her body than the cool air. If she could wake up every morning for the rest of her life tucked in Mason’s arms and gaze into his sweet, adoring face, it wouldn’t be long enough.
They shuffled up the aisle. Faces of friends and family watched quietly, their mouths forming silent “ohs.”
She practically floated to the front, but she could reach Mason faster if she weren’t shackled to Ryan. Could this man walk any slower?
“In a hurry?” Ryan grinned down at her, laugh lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes.
“Whatever gave you that idea? Do you think you could step it up a bit?” She cracked with a smile.
Ryan complied, stopping in front of the preacher and kissing the top of her head. Then he took a seat next to Lessa, who was dabbing her cheeks with a tissue. He wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and drew her tight against his side.
Remi turned to face her beloved. His brown eyes simmered with love and tenderness, warm and velvety as roasting coffee. His rough palms cupped her cheeks, and he leaned down, taking his time kissing her.
When he pulled back, she could barely breathe, so much raw emotion filled her lungs.
“I love you, sweetheart, forever and always,” he whispered.
Her free hand reached up to graze his jaw, and she smiled into his adoring face. “I love you, too.”
Loving Mason meant prying loose the iron hold that fear held over her heart for too long. While Mason had shown her that love was worth the risk, God had showered her with an everlasting love and promises that if she trusted Him, she had no reason to be afraid. Nothing the media printed or that people whispered about her could ever hurt her. The only way for that to happen is if she allowed it. Loving Mason, loving God, gave her time to heal.
Life was all about choices. Some people, like her father, chose death over life. Chose a release from the pain and temporary suffering over living through it and becoming better and stronger for it.
She couldn’t change her father’s decision, any more than she could change what people thought about it or what they said, but she refused to live under that murky shadow another day.
This day, she chose love and life. Joy and peace. Sunshine and laughter. Healing and freedom from the chains of fear.
She chose God and Mason.
“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today…”
Thank you for reading A Time to Heal! I’m so honored that you chose to read one of my stories. If you enjoyed it—and I hope you did!—please consider sharing your thoughts on Amazon. Positive reviews, even just a couple of sentences, help other readers discover new-to-them authors. Happy reading!
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Would you like a peek at A Time to Build? Of course, you would. How can you not want to read about the prodigal Lambright and the woman who’s pined for him all these years? Will they finally get their happily-ever-after?
The prodigal son was back.
Carson Lambright slid the book bag off his shoulder and slipped into the back row, ignoring the heads slanting in his direction, the whispers behind cupped lips, and the pointed fingers.
Didn’t they know gossip wasn’t polite?
Some things never changed. Like rumors and how they raged through the small town faster and with more ferocity than a wildfire.
“Excuse me.” He scooted past a middle-aged couple he didn’t recognize. The woman, with blonde hair piled high on top of her head in a stringent bun, gasped and jerked her partner’s arm before digging a phone from the bowels of an enormous bag.
Her fingers blazed across the screen. Probably tapping out a status update to all her friends.
By now, the entire population of Harrison, North Carolina, knew Camdon’s twin was back.
He groaned. A wedding was supposed to be about the bride and groom, not the wayward son finally returning home.
Scowling, he settled into a t
hinly cushioned seat, relief flowing all the way through to his aching limbs. After two weeks of hiking, dealing with bleeding blisters and hitching rides when he could get them, he wasn’t turning around just for the sake of a few gossips.
Not after he’d made it home and hugged his little sister. He might have sorely misjudged the timing but leaving now would break Remi’s heart.
It wouldn’t be too healthy for his, either.
He could hardly wait to wrap his arms around his mama and meet the man who’d won over sweet, painfully shy Remi. He wanted to slap his twin on the back, and then slither into an oversized sudsy bathtub to erase the grime and dust he’d accumulated over the last thirteen years.
If only a bath could erase his mistakes, his failures, as easily.
A late spring breeze drifted over him, ruffling the flimsy material of his cotton shirt and wafting through the holes in his last pair of jeans. Scratching his scruffy beard, he slumped low in the seat, finally forcing his shoulders to relax and allowing his eyelids to droop, the long years of wandering sinking into a weariness that went bone deep. He could probably sleep straight through until Monday without moving a muscle.
But he wouldn’t.
He sat up straight, determination to stay awake lifting his shoulders and resolve stiffening his spine. He hadn’t traveled all this way just to reconnect with his family. No, he planned to track down Jillian Sutthill. He owed her an apology. One that was over a decade late.
Why did it always take something catastrophic to make a person long for what could have been? To make a person take stock of their blessings and realize what they’d given up or taken for granted?
He shook his head. What made him think Jillian was still in Harrison? Likely, she’d moved on. Probably living in a house with a white picket fence, three kids, and a perfect husband who doted on her. That’s what she deserved, anyway.
Him? He’d never deserved her love. Not then and definitely not now. But, at least, he’d feel better after he apologized. Then, maybe he could move on with his life. Tuck the pent-up dreams and the “what if’s” behind him, where they should have stayed all along.