Beside a Dreamswept Sea (47 page)

Pastor Brown stood at the altar, smiling. And turning to look at her, to watch her walk into their lives permanently, were Bryce and all three of the M and M’s. Her heart felt too full. Just too full.

Bryce looked gorgeous in a black tux. He looked gorgeous in anything, and in nothing. And, though she hadn’t figured out
how
she was going to avoid revising their vows before leaving this holy place, she held firmly to the belief that somehow she would. Something would happen. She would not lie in God’s house, and she would not vow she didn’t love Bryce Richards when she loved him with all her heart.

Sunlight broke through the blanket of clouds and streamed in through the stained-glass window, bathing Bryce and the M and M’s in an array of pastel colors. He smiled. Suzie beamed. Lyssie looked curious and held Suzie’s hand. And Jeremy fidgeted with his tie as if it were choking him to death. For the rest of her life, she’d be wary of checking his pockets before laundering his clothes, and that too she looked forward to with relish. They were waiting there for her, just as she’d asked Bryce. All of them. So the children too knew that when Cally took her vows she was also taking them, not just their dad, into her heart. They would be her family.

Tears stung her eyes; her heart overflowed. Finally. Dear God, finally . . . Her family.

Bryce offered her his hand. “Welcome, sunshine.”

A tear slipped to her cheek.

Jeremy frowned up at his dad. “You’re making her cry.”

“Shh,” Suzie scolded him. “This time it’s okay.”

“How come?”

Behind them, from the front-row pew, Frankie groaned.

“’Cause I said, twerp.”

“It’s fine, Jeremy,” Cally whispered. “These are happy tears.”

Pastor Brown smiled down on them. “Are we ready?”

Cally and Bryce nodded. The kids all answered, too.

“Dearly beloved . . .”

Tony didn’t answer. Neither did the woman. But the urge to talk this over with Mary Beth nearly knocked Cally to her knees. But there was no way to turn to the woman with Cally’s troubles now. Bryce stood staring expectantly, waiting for her.

Hatch caught Cally’s eye, nodded as if he understood her plight. “Bryce, you’d best be grabbing Jeremy. Last I saw the boy, he was beating a path toward Seascape.”

Bryce looked torn. Cally slid him a serious look. “We’d better hurry. Lord only knows what he’ll dig up next.”

He stared at her long and hard. “Are you sure? I know what this—”

She sent Hatch a look of sheer gratitude and, unless she was seriously mistaken, saw a little boy who looked an awful like Jeremy clinging to Miss Hattie’s hand near the cemetery fence. “We’d better hurry, Bryce. Remember that dream? If anything happened to the kids, I’d be devastated.”

“Okay, honey. You ride as planned. I’ll run ahead.”

“No.” She laced their hands. “We’re in this together.”

They hurried out of the cluster of people, then down the sand-dusted street toward Seascape. Heavy, dark clouds hung out over the ocean and seemed to be moving closer to shore. A wicked storm was brewing out there.

When they passed the Blue Moon Cafe, Cally clutched at a stitch in her side and stopped. “Bryce, it’s okay. Jeremy is back at the church with Miss Hattie.”

Bryce stopped, looked at her, clearly waiting for an explanation.

She shrugged, and said nothing, determined not to lie to him.

“I presume there’s a reason for our hasty exodus.”

“Yes.” The wind tossed a lock of his hair over his forehead. She brushed it away from his eyes. “But I’d rather not discuss it at the moment.”

“Any particular reason?”

She let her hand drift up his chest, then gave him a sweet smile. “Several.”

“In the mood for mystery?”

“A little.”

“Ah, a trust-test kind of mystery.” The wind tugging at his glossy black hair, he smiled down at her, then pecked a kiss to her lips. “I think I’m going to love being married to you, Miss Tate.”

The question was, Would he hate loving being married to her? And that question, she couldn’t ask. She wasn’t that brave. Not today. “That’s Richards, Counselor. Mrs. Richards. Has a nice rhythm to it, don’t you think?”

“Yes, by gum, it does,” he said, sounding more than a little pompous and even more pleased with himself.

Then he kissed her again, sweeping her into a potent moment of desire-laced love. And long before he parted their fused mouths, she was praying hard that, one day, in his heart, he would love being married to her. That, despite their agreement about caring, he would love her.

One day.

The celebration feast ended early
because of the severe thunderstorms, and the guests departed. Miss Hattie put the children to bed, and Bryce and Cally stole away to the Great White Room to be alone.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” Bryce removed his tie and slung it onto the bench at the foot of the bed.

“Me, too.” Cally stepped out of her shoes. “It was fun though, wasn’t it? Especially at the table, when Jeremy yelled down and asked you, ‘Daddy, what’s sex?’ ” She laughed hard. “I thought Pastor Brown was going to choke to death.”

“Lydia Johnson sputtered stuffing halfway down the table.”

“Horace got a kick out of that.”

Bryce grinned and growled at Cally’s neck. “He did.”

She curled her arms around Bryce. “I thought it was very clever of you to answer that it meant whether you’re a boy or a girl.”

“I heard a lot of relieved sighs.”

“Me, too.”

Reaching for the buttons on Bryce’s shirt, she slipped her fingertips between the first and second buttons. “I wonder where he heard it?”

The button popped free of its hole, and she pressed her fingers against his bare skin.

Bryce shivered in response. “No telling.”

She looked up at him, dreamy-eyed. “Your voice sounds husky, Counselor.”

“That’s because I’m trying hard to think and talk when all I really want to do is to make love with my wife.”

She gave him her best “you’re lovable” look. “Your wife wants to love you, too.”

He glanced at the cheval mirror. So did Cally. Their gazes met in the glass and surprise flickered through his eyes. “Cally?”

“Shh, let’s talk later.” She lifted onto her toes and kissed him, lovingly, longingly.

Clasping her to him, he walked over to the mirror, set her down, then broke their kiss and looked deeply into her eyes. “I need this, Cally. If you can do it.” He ran his hands over her face, then holding her gaze, unzipped her gown, slid it free from her shoulders, and then down, over her hips.

Shivering from the nip of cool air against her skin, she stepped free of the crepe and lace. “I can do it now.”

His tense jaw and wary eyes reeked of skepticism. “Show me.”

She finished undressing, while he stood, watching her hungry-eyed, longing, as if fearing if he so much as drew breath she’d lose her courage. She could promise she wouldn’t, promise that with his gentle smiles, tender touches, and loving ways, her sense of worth had reemerged, but all that telling took too many words. And none of them showed her husband that he was lovable. He needed to be shown. And his wife delighted in the showing.

She stood before him naked, her heart leaping at the sight of sheer male pleasure in his looking at her. And, though it was a challenge, she stood still, let him look his fill. When the stiffness eased from his spine, she undressed him, pausing to caress, to nurture, to please.

And then when he stood as naked as she, all flaws and scars exposed, she turned her back to his chest and looked into the mirror.

“See what I see, Cally,” he whispered at her nape.

She let her gaze drift down her body, then to Bryce. “I see beauty.”

He curled his arm around her waist. “You are beautiful. To me, you are so . . . beautiful.”

She looked at her husband’s reflection, and her heart melted. He understood completely, for from the corner of his eye rolled down a poignant tear.

Lightning flashed.

Thunder boomed, its rumble vibrating the walls. Cally awakened in Bryce’s arms, tangled in crumpled covers and her nose to his chest, smelling his warm, sweet skin. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, scooted out of bed, then grabbed her robe from the bench at its foot.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I just woke up with this . . . feeling. I’m going to go check on the kids.”

He rolled out of bed, then snatched up his robe. Halfway to the door, he belted it closed. “I’ll check Jeremy and Lyssie. You check Suzie.”

“I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

He pecked a kiss to her cheek. “I know. But the sooner we check them, the sooner your mind will be at ease, and the sooner we can get back to bed.”

She smiled. “You’re incorrigible, Counselor.”

“Yeah.” He grinned.

Cally’s heart was thumping hard by the time she reached the Shell Room. Since she had awakened, her feeling of dread had grown stronger. Now it pounded out lethal warnings that throbbed in her temples, her heart. She cracked open Suzie’s bedroom door, looked inside, and saw what she’d most feared.

“Bryce!” Cally screamed out. “Bryce!”

He ran to her, tripping over the edge of the Berber rug. “What is it?”

Cally turned, stark fear throbbing through her veins. “Suzie’s gone!”

Miss Hattie looked so worried.

Down in the kitchen, Cally patted the angel’s shoulder, though Miss Hattie’s worry only worsened Cally’s own. “We’ll find her.”

“I can’t believe she’d leave the house.” Wrung incessantly, her lacy white handkerchief hung limp in her hand.

“Me, either. But clearly she did. At church, I thought she and Frankie were planning something. I never dreamed it’d be at night, or out in a storm.”

“Frankie, of course.” Miss Hattie headed toward the mud room door. “The storm has the phone lines down. I’ll run over to Fisherman’s Co-op and see if Suzie went to visit Frankie.”

“No, Miss Hattie.” Bryce pulled on a slick yellow jacket. One of its sleeves was turned inside out. “You’ll get wet and sick.”

“Bosh, I’m never sick.”

Cally fixed his sleeve. “We need you here with Lyssie and Jeremy, Miss Hattie. Please.”

“All right, dear. I’ll keep trying the phone.” She cast a wistful look at the ceiling.