The Bridal Veil by Alexis Harrington

been such agony, she’d
almost become physically ill. She hated being the center of
attention, and wished that she’d never suggested coming to church.
But she’d called upon every lesson in graceful living that she’d
ever learned and forced herself to appear as if she didn’t notice.
When the service was over, just when she thought she’d get away
from the terrible scrutiny, Cora had dragged her to that group of
women simply to insult her.
    Then Emily had seen that woman hanging
on Luke, touching his arm, bragging about her cooking, leaning
closer to whisper something and giggle, and the spurt of jealousy
it had kindled in Emily’s chest astounded her. She had never been
jealous in her life. Well, perhaps once or twice, especially when
Father had compared her to delicate, beautiful Alyssa and found
Emily wanting. This, today, had been different. She’d wanted to
confront that woman, slap her hands off Luke, and tell her that her
behavior was appalling.
    But something had happened
back there in that churchyard. Not only had Luke defended her
against Cora’s rudeness, he’d publicly announced their marriage. It
was a simple statement— Emily is my
wife —and yet to her, it held enormous
implications that both frightened and pleased her.
    As they bounced along in the
wagon, her gaze kept straying to him beside her. She felt Cora’s
daggers in her back and wondered briefly if she would ever overcome
the woman’s unmistakable animosity. Mostly, though, she was more
aware of Luke than ever. She’d felt his leg brush hers in the pew,
even though she’d tried to pull away. He’d been impossible to
ignore in the churchyard, tall as he was and better-looking than
any other man present. And he was her husband . He’d said so. He’d told them
all. He had willingly admitted that he was bound to her. This
amazed her. She wanted to tuck her hand in the crook of his arm, to
thank him for his chivalry. But she kept her hands firmly clasped
in her lap and her mouth closed. Another wave of cold and heat
shimmied through her, and her face felt fiery. Wouldn’t it be nice
if he were really her husband in more than just name? That was
silly, of course. Emily had learned a long time ago that she was
not worthy of love.
    For now, the masquerade of marriage
was good enough. Still, she fantasized, if they really were husband
and wife, they would come to church on Sundays, perhaps attend a
social or two. People would eventually stop staring when they got
used to her being Emily Becker. There would be cozy dinners with
the three of them, Emily, Luke, and Rose. She didn’t even realize
she’d cut Cora out of her daydream until she heard the woman’s
braying, satisfied hoot from the back of the wagon. She and Rose
had been murmuring on the way home, but Emily hadn’t paid much
attention to the conversation.
    “ I guess that’s how much
good church did Rose,” Cora said, her tone triumphant.
    To hide her roiling emotions, she
turned slightly to talk to the girl. “Why? What did you learn in
church, Rose?” She almost feared she’d stolen money from the
collection plate.
    “ God makes you suffer and
then you die.” The girl looked frightened.
    Cora brayed again. “That’s what your
idea of going to church did for the girl, Mrs. Becker.”
    Why on earth would she think that was
funny? Emily wondered. That was a horrible image for a child to
have.
    “ Oh, dear, no Rose! That’s
not true at all!” Emily countered, although she could understand
why Rose might have gotten that impression from listening to
Reverend Ackerman. And if Emily were to be honest with herself,
she’d have to admit that she’d had the same thought many times in
her life. “We’ll talk about it later.”
    When they arrived home, Luke changed
clothes to unhitch the team and do some chores. Cora put on her
apron and went outside to get a side of pork ribs from the
smokehouse. Emily, buoyed by the fantasy of marriage she still
carried in her mind’s