Page 73 of His Perfect Bride
“Whoa, now.” With a chuckle, Pastor Abe patted Jackson’s chest firmly and positioned him beside her. “We’ll never get the two of you married at this rate.”
Jackson nodded. “Forgive me, Reverend.”
Pastor Abe closed his eyes. “Let’s pray.”
Jackson’s hand slipped into hers, and he laced their fingers together.
She loved the strength of his hand, the ripple of tension in his fingers, even the possessiveness of his hold. She loved him. She wanted to blurt it again, but she bit back the words, knowing she would have plenty of time later—the rest of her life—to tell him and show him how much she loved him.
As she stood beside Jackson on the high mountain road, the morning sun warmed her back. It was high enough in the sky now that it turned the mountainside into a golden cathedral. The tall evergreens standing on one side acted as their witnesses. The bridge ahead became their altar and the rushing river below their music.
Pastor Abe led them through the order of the marriage service with a reverence that seemed only fitting under the widest and bluest sky she’d ever seen. Jackson must have sensed the reverence too, because his voice was low and filled with awe as he spoke his vows. Hers were hardly above a whisper as she said hers in return.
As they finished, Pastor Abe smiled. “Now may God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you. May the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that you may live together in this life and that in the world to come, you may have life everlasting. Amen.”
“Amen,” she whispered, half expecting to wake up and discover she was just dreaming.
But Jackson’s fingers still laced with hers were too solid. His arm pressing into hers was too real. The intensity radiating from his body was all-encompassing.
“If only I had a ring.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her ring finger.
His lips were gentle but sent a shudder of desire through her that was anything but gentle. She had the sudden need to press against him and feel the length of his body. It was a wanton thought, and it warmed her cheeks.
Thankfully, he wasn’t aware of the power of just a kiss on her fingers. He was too busy scanning the landscape. “There has to be something we can use as a temporary ring.”
Abe was patting his pockets, as though he was looking for a stray object they could use.
“It’s all right—” she started.
Before she could finish assuring Jackson that she didn’t need a ring for the marriage to be official, he stiffened, then broke away from her. With his eyes on something ahead, he stalked down the trail toward the bridge.
She tried to locate what he’d noticed in the morning sunshine. But she didn’t see anything new or different. Of course, she hadn’t gotten as far as the bridge when she’d been looking for clues from Augusta.
After the conversation with Pastor Abe earlier, she’d still been working up the courage to approach Jackson. She hadn’t been willing to give up on their relationship yet, had decided to be patient and do what she could to continue building connections. But at that point, she’d been content to search along the trail and let Pastor Abe explore closer to the bridge.
Jackson didn’t stop until he reached the part of the road that led onto the bridge—or what remained of the bridge. He stooped and pushed aside a tuft of grass. The sunlight glinted off what appeared to be a piece of metal.
Had he found something to use as a ring after all?
She wouldn’t be surprised. He was ingenious and would probably be able to fashion a ring out of anything.
As he rose, he twisted the object, examining it before he shifted and lifted it so that she could see what he’d found. “It’s a fork.”
She started toward him, still wary of getting too close to the edge of the road.
Jackson was staring at the silver object again. “It was stuck into the ground with the prongs facing upward.”
Pastor Abe was at Jackson’s side already and looking at the item. “Do you think it’s the clue from your sister that you’ve been searching for?”
As Sage joined the two at the edge of the bridge, she scanned the wreckage that stretched out a short way over the river. The stones and beams hung in disarray.
“I’m flabbergasted why she would leave us a fork as a clue.” Jackson held the fork out to her. “Do you have any ideas?”
She took it and studied it. “It’s one from your home.”
“Is it?” He sounded surprised.
For such a smart man, he didn’t always see the details, probably got too caught up in his mind and his projects to pay attention to things that didn’t really matter. However, in this case, it did matter. But how?
