The Preacher's Bride

His smile broadened and his eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Thank you,” he responded. “My very first, you know.”

She nodded. “But not your last, I’m thinking,” she said, nodding toward Mayor Gilmore and Mrs. Fairchild.

He glanced back at them. “Yes. It will feel a little odd, marrying a couple who are so much older than myself. I’m sure they wish my father could do it,” he admitted.

His humility touched her. As beloved as Reverend Chadwick was, his son must feel he had very large shoes to fill. “But surely he could sit by you in his wheelchair, and perhaps lay his hand on them in blessing,” she said. She had seen the old preacher do that, had even been the recipient of such a blessing. Yet she had lost her ability to believe.

He blinked. “What a good idea. What a wise woman you are to think of that.”

Faith felt her heart warm at his appreciation, even if she felt she didn’t fully deserve it. “At the rate he’s going, he may even be able to say some words of blessing by then. His other nurses have told me he’s been practicing saying the names of things all day long.” She looked over to where Gil’s father was sipping punch, his wheelchair next to the table where Louisa and the Wallaces were sitting.

Gil grinned proudly. “He’s determined,” he agreed. “I asked him if he was getting tired, but he shook his head. I think he takes strength from being around his congregation.” He paused, his attention caught by something at the bridal table. “Oh, look, they’re cutting the cake. Would you like a piece, Faith?”

Faith nodded. She would enjoy Gil’s company for now, for a wedding reception was not the time or place to explain her difficult truth to him. As they walked side by side to the table where the pieces of cake were being laid out, she saw with some amusement that Anson Tyler was still in earnest conversation with Polly, and Polly appeared to be having the time of her life. She seemed to have forgotten all about speaking to Gil Chadwick.

Once they’d obtained their slices of cake, plus an additional one for his father, they sat down at the table with his father, and told Louisa they would stay with Reverend Chadwick so she could circulate for a while.

Sitting here with Gil and his father, conversing with some of the older married couples sitting nearby, Faith pretended she didn’t see the group of younger women gathering near the bride in an open area of the hall.

Milly came over to their table. “Get up there, Faith. Caroline’s about to throw the bouquet,” she said.

“Oh, no thanks, I’m fine here,” Faith demurred. “I’m helping the reverend with his cake.” She had no wish to take part in the tradition ritual, especially in view of her resolve about Gil.

Sarah had come to join her sister. “Go on, Faith. Are you a true spinster or not?”

“I don’t like making a spectacle of myself. Let Polly win,” she muttered, feeling Gil’s gaze on her. “You know how much she wants to.”

Faith saw Reverend Chadwick frown crookedly, then, with his unaffected left hand, make a shooing motion. She could hardly refuse the old preacher’s urging without looking like a spoilsport.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about Polly,” Prissy said, joining the others. “I saw her and Anson strolling around out in the churchyard, arm in arm. My cousin’s an excellent decoy!”

Faith looked at the group, and saw that Prissy was right. Polly wasn’t among the young ladies lined up to catch the bouquet. Maude Harkey was there, and Jane Jeffries, Ella Justiss, Kate Patterson and her cousin Louisa—as well as a trio of younger girls barely old enough to put their hair up, but no Polly. How surprising, she thought. Anson Tyler was either taking Prissy’s request very seriously or he’d found something unexpectedly appealing in their fellow spinster. Faith fervently hoped it was the latter, and that Anson wasn’t just playing a game. Polly was searching for love, and Faith hoped she wouldn’t get hurt in the process.

Faith decided to give in gracefully. But even after she had joined the others waiting for the bouquet to be tossed, she was so lost in thought that she missed Caroline tossing the bouquet, and flinched when it hit her in the head. Blushing with embarrassment as everyone in the hall began to laugh and clap, she smoothed some curls that had been knocked askew before she picked up the ribbon-bound cluster of wildflowers.

“Better wake up, Faith!” Caroline teased, merriment dancing in her eyes. “Looks like you’ll be the next bride!”

Faith ducked her head to avoid the stares and amusement as she returned to her seat next to Gil. She should have stuck to her guns about staying put at the table.

“Well done, Miss Faith,” Gil praised, grinning.

“Don’t laugh, your turn is coming,” she said darkly. “I see the groom getting up, so the garter toss will be next.”

“Oh, I’m sure that members of the clergy are exempt,” Gil protested, but without any real alarm.

Sure enough, just then Jack Collier invited the bachelors to gather up front.

“Go on up there, Reverend Gil,” Milly urged Gil. “There’s not all that many bachelors. That’s why I started the Spinsters’ Club after all.”

“Yes, go on, Reverend Gil,” the mayor urged.

“Why, Mayor Gilmore, you’re unmarried also,” Gil retorted. “Seems like you need to be right up there with me if I go.”

“Ah, but my lady and I have already set a date, as we spoke about with you a little while ago,” Gilmore countered, giving Maria Fairchild a fond look. “So I have nothing to prove.”

Eventually, Gil let himself be persuaded and joined Caroline’s younger brother, Dan, a couple of other youths and Anson Tyler, who had ambled back into the hall with Polly just in time to join the others.

“Oh, pooh, Cousin Anson can’t bear to lose any contest, whether it’s horse racing or a shooting match,” Faith heard Prissy fuss. “Why did he have to come back right now? He’ll grab that garter whether he has any intention of marrying or not.”

And so he did, jumping for the backward-thrown garter as if he were part bullfrog. Gil made a good effort, but he was a little too far to the right to reach it, and Anson plucked it neatly out of the air. Everyone clapped and the other men slapped Prissy’s cousin on the back and congratulated him. Waving the little article triumphantly, he returned to where Polly jumped up and down, clapping her hands.

“I was counting on you, Reverend Gil!” Milly said in mock reproof as Gil came back to the table. “You let us down!”

“Don’t listen to my sister,” Sarah told Gil. “You gave it a good try—that’s what counts.”

Faith was secretly relieved. If Gil had won as she had, there would have been far too much attention paid to the two of them. Before she even had a chance to explain to Gil why they could not be a courting couple, the gossips would have it that she and Gil were as good as wed.

Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself, though. Gil had sought out her company today, but it would be presumptuous of her to assume he would ask to call on her until he actually did so. Looking across the hall, she saw that Prissy’s cousin Anson was once more deep in conversation with Dan Wallace and a couple of other men, while Polly hovered uncertainly at his side, as if uncertain whether he expected her to linger.

Deep within her, however, Faith knew that she had not imagined the way Gil’s eyes had lit up when he approached her, or the warmth in them when his gaze was focused on hers. He was attracted to her, she could feel it in her bones. It would just be a matter of time until he asked Faith to accompany him to dinner again, to some event or even just on a walk.

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