Matrimony.”
The reverend was speaking words Megan had heard countless times before at other wedding ceremonies, yet they sounded distant and cold to her now. Like frost under hazy fog. Yet the air in the room was so unbearably hot and sticky Megan had to fight to take a decent breath.
Feeling more disjointed than before and needing an anchor, she let her gaze drift toward Logan.
He was watching her in return.
His smoky blue eyes skimmed her face with a look she couldn’t quite decipher. Fondness, perhaps? No, conviction. Logan Mitchell knew exactly what he wanted.
And he wanted her.
Her stomach dropped.
Even as Pastor Beau continued blessing their union, Logan held her stare. Then he enfolded her free hand in his and squeezed gently.
A moment of apprehension took hold of her. Logan was so big and she was so small. He was so strong and, at the moment, she was so unsteady. She didn’t know what to say, or how to act.
But then a slow, warm smile spread across Logan’s face and he touched his lips lightly to her knuckles. The intimate gesture put her immediately at ease.
Tightening her grip around her flowers, Megan spent the next few moments trying desperately to refocus her attention on the solemn words Pastor Beau spoke.
She missed several lines, but easily honed in on the vows.
“Logan,” the reverend addressed him directly. “Will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony as God ordained it? Will you nourish and cherish her as Christ loves the Church? Will you love, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others remain united to her alone, as long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” he said with quiet intensity, commanding Megan’s gaze as though she was the only person in the room. He pressed another heartfelt kiss to her knuckles and repeated the words a second time. “I will.”
Bella sighed. Mattie blew her nose, loudly.
Megan looked down at her feet.
“Megan.”
She quickly lifted her gaze. “Yes?”
“Will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony as God ordained it? Will you love, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others remain united to him alone, as long as you both shall live?”
“Oh, yes.” She glanced over at Logan, who was looking expectantly at her. “I will.” Her voice barely shook.
She was slowly getting a handle on her nerves.
“Is there a ring?”
Megan’s heart plummeted. Logan had been gone only a short time this afternoon. Surely with all the other tasks he’d had to complete, there hadn’t been time for him to purchase a wedding ring.
But, oh, how she wanted the symbol of their unity wrapped snugly around her finger. She wanted the world to know she was this man’s wife.
Looking rather pleased with himself Logan opened his mouth to speak, but Mattie beat him to it. “You may borrow one of mine.”
She thrust forward, jockeying for position until they were forced to step apart.
“This will do quite nicely.” Mattie tugged at one of the massive, ostentatious jewels on her left hand. When the ring didn’t budge, she applied considerable effort to the task, popping it free. The gesture sent her elbow straight into Logan’s stomach.
He released a grunt.
“Oh, dear, so sorry, Marshal.” Mattie didn’t appear sorry at all.
Ever the gracious gentleman, Logan didn’t call her out on the lie. Instead, he nudged her back to her place behind Megan.
“No need to trouble yourself, Miss Silks.” He gave her a warning glare. “You may keep your ring. I have one of my own.”
“You do?” Megan asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice as she moved back into place beside him.
“Of course I do.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved a tiny, velvet-covered box. “I made the purchase before I left San Francisco.”
Tiny sparks of joy danced along Megan’s skin. “You...you
The reverend was speaking words Megan had heard countless times before at other wedding ceremonies, yet they sounded distant and cold to her now. Like frost under hazy fog. Yet the air in the room was so unbearably hot and sticky Megan had to fight to take a decent breath.
Feeling more disjointed than before and needing an anchor, she let her gaze drift toward Logan.
He was watching her in return.
His smoky blue eyes skimmed her face with a look she couldn’t quite decipher. Fondness, perhaps? No, conviction. Logan Mitchell knew exactly what he wanted.
And he wanted her.
Her stomach dropped.
Even as Pastor Beau continued blessing their union, Logan held her stare. Then he enfolded her free hand in his and squeezed gently.
A moment of apprehension took hold of her. Logan was so big and she was so small. He was so strong and, at the moment, she was so unsteady. She didn’t know what to say, or how to act.
But then a slow, warm smile spread across Logan’s face and he touched his lips lightly to her knuckles. The intimate gesture put her immediately at ease.
Tightening her grip around her flowers, Megan spent the next few moments trying desperately to refocus her attention on the solemn words Pastor Beau spoke.
She missed several lines, but easily honed in on the vows.
“Logan,” the reverend addressed him directly. “Will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony as God ordained it? Will you nourish and cherish her as Christ loves the Church? Will you love, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others remain united to her alone, as long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” he said with quiet intensity, commanding Megan’s gaze as though she was the only person in the room. He pressed another heartfelt kiss to her knuckles and repeated the words a second time. “I will.”
Bella sighed. Mattie blew her nose, loudly.
Megan looked down at her feet.
“Megan.”
She quickly lifted her gaze. “Yes?”
“Will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony as God ordained it? Will you love, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others remain united to him alone, as long as you both shall live?”
“Oh, yes.” She glanced over at Logan, who was looking expectantly at her. “I will.” Her voice barely shook.
She was slowly getting a handle on her nerves.
“Is there a ring?”
Megan’s heart plummeted. Logan had been gone only a short time this afternoon. Surely with all the other tasks he’d had to complete, there hadn’t been time for him to purchase a wedding ring.
But, oh, how she wanted the symbol of their unity wrapped snugly around her finger. She wanted the world to know she was this man’s wife.
Looking rather pleased with himself Logan opened his mouth to speak, but Mattie beat him to it. “You may borrow one of mine.”
She thrust forward, jockeying for position until they were forced to step apart.
“This will do quite nicely.” Mattie tugged at one of the massive, ostentatious jewels on her left hand. When the ring didn’t budge, she applied considerable effort to the task, popping it free. The gesture sent her elbow straight into Logan’s stomach.
He released a grunt.
“Oh, dear, so sorry, Marshal.” Mattie didn’t appear sorry at all.
Ever the gracious gentleman, Logan didn’t call her out on the lie. Instead, he nudged her back to her place behind Megan.
“No need to trouble yourself, Miss Silks.” He gave her a warning glare. “You may keep your ring. I have one of my own.”
“You do?” Megan asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice as she moved back into place beside him.
“Of course I do.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved a tiny, velvet-covered box. “I made the purchase before I left San Francisco.”
Tiny sparks of joy danced along Megan’s skin. “You...you
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