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“We’re not planning on those things. She’s going to carry a bouquet but no other flowers. And we aren’t having a reception afterward.”

“Music? I could probably convince Heidi Nicholas to play the piano—at least for the processional and recessional.”

“That would be great if she’s available. I appreciate it. Let’s say Wednesday night at ten.”

“Very good. Is your fiancée Catholic?”

“No. She’s a Presbyterian.”

Father Paul chuckled. “Well, that’s not a moral failing. I look forward to meeting her tomorrow.”

Jude was a little nervous. The Pre-Cana instruction might be a challenge given the nature of their relationship and their reasons for marriage. But no matter what his issues with God over the past years, if he could get married in the church, he wanted to do that. So hopefully they’d be able to manage.

“It sounds like we have a plan. I can email you with any other information I need for the preparations.” He paused, eyeing Jude with an unnerving scrutiny. “It’s not like you to get swept away by feeling and jump in headfirst.”

“I’m not swept away. This is rushed, but it’s well thought through.”

“Okay.” The older man stood up. “I’m glad to see you here for whatever reason. And you might have more to say to God than you think.”

“I doubt it. In my current state of mind, I don’t think God would appreciate anything I said.”

“Ah, but you see, that’s when we need him the most.”

Before Jude could react with impatience to that comment, Father Paul turned to walk away, adding pleasantly, “I’ll emailyou later today to finalize plans. I hope your head feels better soon.”

Jude sat and watched as the priest left the sanctuary. Then he gave a dry, bitter laugh at the irony.

His head wasn’t going to get better. It was only going to get worse.

Father Paul clearly believed this marriage could be a new beginning for Jude.

But it was really the end.

After the church, Jude had to stop by the courthouse and the jeweler, so by the time he returned home, Eve had already arrived. They’d agreed to meet back at the house to compare notes on their errands and figure out what else needed to be done.

Jude’s head was pounding unbearably now. It was making him queasy and occasionally blurring his vision. He was relieved to park his car and step inside out of the sunlight.

Nancy told him Eve was in the library. She tried to fuss over him for a few minutes, chiding him about taking his medication and going to bed.

But it was only a quarter after six, and he had too much to do.

Eve was reading in the window seat, but she put down her book immediately at his appearance.

She’d always had an understated bohemian style—flowing skirts, soft fabrics, and muted colors. Today she wore a long skirt in a dusty green and a white top with a neckline that made her neck look particularly long and graceful. Her hair was pulled up rather messily with a clip.

It was probably the effect of the headache dampening his rational brain, but that hair clip annoyed him. He had the sudden impulse to snatch it out and let her hair spill down her back.

He brushed the thought away since it was ridiculous.

“Oh no,” Eve said after giving him a quick, observant look. “Your headache is worse.”

“It’s fine.” When she started to argue, he spoke over her. “Did you find a dress?”

“Yes.” She sat down on the big comfy sofa and patted the cushion beside her. When he joined her, she went on. “I found a good dress. It’s not real formal, so I hope that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine. I’m not planning to wear a tux. A big fancy wedding would be ridiculous in our situation.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’ve got the license and the rings, and Father Paul said we can get married at the church at ten o’clock Wednesday night. He’s got someone who can play the music for us unless there’s someone else you had in mind.”

“No, I don’t have any preferences on that. It sounds like everything should work fine then.” She paused, then reached over to pull the elastic out of the ponytail Jude had tied off again after leaving the church.