A Bride for Keeps by Melissa Jagears Page B

crushed the hat in his hands. He tried to focus on the
     prayer, but his mind refused.
    “It is with great pleasure that I announce the engagement and nuptials between Everett
     Cline and . . .” Reverend Vale glanced at a piece of paper in his hand, “Julia Lockwood
     following the service. Before you leave, please stay and witness the first wedding
     I have the pleasure of performing among you.”
    Everett choked and covered it with a cough. Murmursfloated around him. He didn’t know where to look. He’d not asked for the congregation
     to witness.
    “Congratulations, Everett!” Mr. Fritz clapped him on the shoulder. “Couldn’t find
     a prettier girl this side of the Mississippi, I reckon.”
    A whisper rasped behind him. “She’s actually going to do it?”
    Sweat formed on his brow.
    “The last mail-order bride that pretty was Jonesey’s wife.” Another low male voice
     responded to the previous man. “And you know how long that lasted.”
    A snigger popped out. “She wasn’t anywhere near that pretty. I give her three months.”
    Everett’s hat was an unrecognizable wad in his hands. Had he fooled himself? He’d
     never met Jonesey’s wife, but he knew the man had fallen for the pretty mail-order
     bride he’d married. Then half a year later, she’d left him with no warning.
    The abandoned man had advised him not to trust a mail-order bride after he’d heard
     about Kathleen marrying Carl, but Everett had dismissed Jonesey’s counsel.
    And then Helga came . . . and chose Ned Parker.
    Everett gripped the edge of his seat. Julia was different. She’d asked to marry him.
     She wanted to marry him. But then again, not a real marriage. His stomach flopped.
    “Would the couple please proceed to the front?” Reverend Vale’s smile beamed. The
     gaiety seemed odd after his fierce preaching face.
    Everett clamped his hand on the back of the chair in front of him. He pushed himself
     to his feet, testing their steadiness before unclamping his hand. Though every muscle
     told him to flee, he moved forward. The faces of most of his neighbors displayed well-wishes
     as he moved to the front.
    He’d given his word, though it might hurt him in the end. His mind shut off thinking.
     It was time for doing. Tugging on his coat, he tried to make it lie flat. His hands
     shook in the attempt.
    Julia arrived before him, front and center. She didn’t look at him, just the preacher.
    He stopped next to her. Her rosy-cheeked face turned his direction for a second before
     returning to the pastor. The quiver in her lip told him she had pushed herself up
     front too.
    Holding his Book of Common Prayer , Reverend Vale trailed his finger across the pages as he read aloud.
    “‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face
     of this Company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; . . .’”
    Everett forced himself to stand still.
    “‘. . . which is commended of Saint Paul to be honourable among all men; and therefore
     is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly,
     advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God.’”
    Everett trembled. What had he done? His eyes shut.
    God, forgive me for rushing into a sacred union.
    Reverend Vale, perhaps hungry or impatient, let only a small sliver of silence interrupt
     his reading upon asking whether the congregation, bride, or groom had an impediment
     to the marriage. His voice boomed straight into Everett’s face. “‘Wilt thou have this
     Woman to be thy wedded Wife, to live together . . .’”
    Everett couldn’t concentrate on the words. Fortunately, at the pause he knew to say,
     “I do.”
    Julia echoed the same a few seconds later.
    Did she really? Until death parted them? He took in her tiny nose, long neck, and
     petite form. Would he have to livewith her and not touch her? Or would she end his agony and run off like Jonesey’s
     wife? Was there a shred