“You don’t think we’re too late, do you?”
“No ma’am, I do not. I have to say, I think everything’s gonna work out fine. Just fine.”
“Will Bentley, I don’t remember you being such an optimist when we were children.”
“I didn’t have time for optimism.”
“What does that mean?” she laughed.
“I don’t know,” he confessed with a chuckle of his own. “Just seemed like the thing to say. Guess you bring out the optimist in me.”
“I could say the same thing about you. Suddenly, I feel like anything is possible.”
They walked along through the gathering gloom, following a beaten path toward the creek.
“So,” Maggie said finally, “how long are you going to make me wait?”
“Wait for what?”
“To get married.”
“Oh.”
“I hope you’re not looking to drag out our engagement.”
“Not at all.”
“So when do you want to get married?”
“How does tomorrow sound?”
Her eyes bulged. “Tomorrow?”
“We can wait.”
“No… I was just… surprised was all.” She laughed. “Tomorrow would be wonderful.”
They embraced and kissed again.
“Will?”
“Yeah?”
“How do we get married?”
“I don’t even know. We’ll need a preacher.”
“What about Andrew McLean just down the road?”
Will chuckled. “Andrew’s a little crazy, but sure. If he’ll marry us, that’ll work.”
“And then, don’t we have to get a marriage license or something?”
“If it’s important to you, we can get a license,” Will said, “but a piece of paper doesn’t matter to me. This is between you, me, and God, not the law. The less folks in town know about us, the safer you are.”
Maggie smiled up at him. “I don’t care about those people or the law or any piece of paper. I only care about marrying you.”
“Then tomorrow morning, I’ll put on my new duds, and we’ll go see Andrew McLean.”
