Page 146 of True North

We walk through the back door to the yard. The old willows sway in the breeze, stoically surrounding the handful of people in attendance. The way Harry and I wanted it. My parents, the preacher, Mama and Papa Mancini, Ned, and the girls from the diner rise from the cluster of wooden chairs when the single violin I commissioned from the town band plays the first note of the wedding march.

Everyone is dressed in their best. Dad meets me a few feet from the back door of the homestead, and Mom hurries to her seat at the front. But the only person I want to see stands, hands clasped behind his back and eyes burning into me, at the end of the aisle. And they are, in fact, the most brilliant shade of blue. Just as Rosie promised.

Harry stands in new dark jeans, a sport coat, and a tie, a new hat on his head, and the sweetest smile I think I’ve ever seen him crack.

Dad and I walk slowly toward the small gathering. The violin plays a steady tune that tangles through the green curtains of the willows. Harry stands by the preacher. I set my gaze to his and hold it there.

“You sure about this, Louisa?” Dad whispers.

I look up to see him wink.

I slap his arm that currently has mine woven around it. “It may have taken me a while to work it out, Dad, but I got here eventually.”

He chuckles and dots a kiss to the crown of my head. “Yes, you did, my girl.”

Is that what Rosie was talking about? Did my parents know all this time who Harry was to me?

A thought rocks me... Everyone in my life saw him and me as inevitable. I was the only one who needed asecondlook.

The next heartbeat finishes with me coming to a halt in front of Harry. Dad shakes his hand and sits by Mom.

When I look back at the man before me, his jaw is clenched, his eyes rimmed with silver. The rugged, rough, and moody Harry Rawlins has a soft spot.

And I am so grateful it’s me. Even more that he waited for me to find my way home.

“We are gathered here today...” the preacher starts, his hands on the Bible.

Harry’s jaw feathers.

My face curls with emotion. The preacher’s words drown out. With our hands clasped together, we recite the words that will see us through the rest of our days together.

* * *

“Congratulations, sweetheart.” Ma kisses my cheek and hugs Harry.

We stand holding hands as each person congratulates us in turn. It doesn’t take long with our intimate gathering, and I’m grateful for the fact as my nerves and the day’s emotions take their toll.

“Something you forgot to tell me, Lou?” Harry whispers into my ear as Brad steps through the back door, heading for the small crowd.

Oh my god.

What the hell?

“He your last-minute invite?” Harry’s expression is playful.

“I—” My gaze swings between Harry and Brad. “No, he is not.”

“Harry,” Brad says in lieu of hello.

“Bradley. What are you doing here?”

“Sorry.” He looks around suddenly realizing he has, in fact, intruded. “This came up. It’s important. And I didn’t want you to have to wait.”

My husband—good lord, it feels good to call him that—braces, pulling me into his side. “What’s more important than our wedding day, Connors?” His words have turned harsh.

Brad shifts on his feet and flicks his attention from the small crowd of people and the preacher back to us. “Sorry, if I’d known...”

“Spit it out.” Harry’s patience wears thinner.

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