A March Bride by Rachel Hauck Page A

knew she never could have planned or even dreamed of such a night as this. From the moment she slipped on Granny ’ s dress for her “ evening ” with Nathaniel to the ceremony at Christ Church, everything was perfect.
    Maybe beyond perfect because she had expected none of it.
    Granny had rejoiced to see her walk down the aisle in her dress. When Susanna arrived at the end of the aisle, she bent to give her a kiss.
    “ I knew I couldn ’ t miss this wedding. ” Granny raised her thin, weak hand to Susanna ’ s cheek. “ You look prettier in that gown than I ever did. ”
    “ And my granddaughter will look prettier than me. ”
    Granny kissed her cheek. “ He ’ s a good one, that king. Keep hold of him. ”
    Now, sitting at their head table for two on the ocean side of the cottage ’ s garden, Susanna leaned against Nathaniel as Mickey, the Rib Shack ’ s Irish singer, serenaded them from a corner spot on the white stone-and-tile veranda.
    The cottage garden was ablaze with clear lights swinging from the trees along with an array of Japanese lanterns hovering above the long pink-and-burgundy-covered tables with vases of white roses and lilies.
    The breeze hustled past, dancing with the lights and lanterns, leaving behind a sweet, sea foam perfume.
    “ Happy? ” Nathaniel draped his arm around the back of her chair as he whispered in her ear.
    “ I don ’ t have words, ” she said, cupping his face in her hands. “ I feel both proud and humbled. You made me happy. Not to mention Granny and Gracie. No small feat for any man to make three women happy in one night. ”
    He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “ Remember when you sat on my veranda steps two years ago and stared out at this cottage ’ s dead, dry garden? You had no idea you were really gazing into my dead, dry heart. I saw weeds, but you saw possibilities and life. Not for this garden, but for me. You reminded me of who I was and am, and who really called me to be a king. God, not men. ”
    His sincere confession caressed her heart. “ No, my heart was the dead one. Then you found me and said, ‘ Design a garden for me. ’ Sitting on those same steps, I saw possibility. For a garden, yes, but also for love. ” She kissed him. “ We made grass angels and you helped me off the ground— ”
    He laughed. “ How could I forget? You tripped and fell into my arms. I never wanted to let you go. ”
    “ I did that on purpose, you know. ” She nuzzled her face against his, butterfly kissing his cheek.
    “ Sure you did. ” He brushed his lips over hers. “ I remember wanting to kiss you that day, very much. ”
    From the veranda stage the music changed. Nathaniel shoved back his chair, taking her hand. “ May I have this dance? ”
    Susanna rose, the silk taffeta and tulle petticoat of her dress rustling past their chairs, the heels of her golden shoes striking a solid sound on the makeshift dance floor.
    The guests, sitting at surrounding tables, applauded softly.
    Nathaniel drew her into his arms and began an elegant waltz as the melody of the song rose higher and Mickey began to sing.
    He is now to be among you at the calling of your hearts . . .
    “ The Wedding Song, ” she whispered, a new wash of tears filling her eyes. “ How did you know ? ”
    “ Oh, a little bird named Glo told me. ”
    Mama, sweet Mama. “ A friend of theirs sang it at Daddy and Mama ’ s remarriage ceremony when I was twelve and so happy. My very divorced parents reconciled, remarried, and were giving me a baby sister. ”
    For whenever two or more of you are gathered in His name, there is love . . .
    Susanna closed her eyes and rested against her husband—oh, she loved the sound of the word—as Mickey ’ s smooth melody confirmed . . . there is love.
    When the song ended, a soft clanking arose from a table to the left, and Daddy made his way toward the dance floor,tapping his champagne glass with a fork. The sound technician passed him a