“What on earth—”
“How about a wedding, Father O’Connor?” Lucas ordered. “Perhaps a dicey ploy but maybe enough to fool some Confederates.”
“I’ll never—” Rachel squeaked as Lucas hauled her on the altar. With his prayer book in hand, the priest had to run to keep up, tripping on his cassock. Lucas shrugged on his coat. Loud banging battered the vestibule door. Soldiers flooded the church.
“What is the meaning of this?” Father O’Connor demanded. “You are interrupting the tender nuptials of this couple as well as invading the sacred structure of this church.” With fire and damnation, he railed on and on, and then shaking his fist at them, he said, “My good friend, President Jefferson Davis will hear of this incursion!”
The determined Confederates blinked and stood there waiting for orders from a higher power. A close-lipped, unbending, Orthodox priest would not deter them.
“If I ran my church the way this government runs an army then I daresay Satan would turn my house of worship into an outpost of hell.” Seeing no other option, the priest proceeded with the ceremony. Smiling kindly to Lucas and Rachel, he cleared his throat loudly and began.
Ever aware of the audience behind him, Lucas did his absolute best at acting out the part of a happy bridegroom. Up until now, Rachel had stood quietly next to him. To his amazement, she dug her nails into his arm and hissed, “I’m not going through with this.”
“With a lynch mob behind us, you will cooperate,” Lucas ordered beneath his breath. He gave her one ferocious glance to quell the fireball coming.
“I’m not going to marry the likes of you,” she shouted.
“Oh, yes you are.” Lucas could not believe his ears. Was this an act or was she crazy? There existed one way to take care of her. He swung her over his shoulder. Like a wild banshee, she kicked her legs and pounded his back.
“I refuse!”
Lucas smacked her backside. Trapped in her veil, Rachel raged like a lioness.
He turned toward the group of soldiers. “My child will have his father’s name.”
Some of the soldiers nodded, others spat their agreement in viscous streams of tobacco juice.
“You doin’ the right thing, Boy,” a soldier yelled.
For entertainment purposes, Lucas slapped her on the backside again, enraging the hornet’s nest on his shoulder.
“Give her a good whipping now and, then keep her in order.” The soldiers hooted.
Lucas turned to the priest again. Father O’Connor’s thin countenance and scrawny neck gave him the look of a furious turkey cock, disapproval stamped in the sharp planes of his face. Rachel fought him so much, Lucas dropped her from his shoulder. He yanked her to his side and shoved a revolver against her ribs. He said, “There will be a wedding today or a funeral tomorrow.”
There was a wedding.
Lucas nodded to Father O’Connor and the priest’s solemn words filled the room. Even the Confederate soldiers were in awe. Lucas’ regard moved to Rachel who stood very small and quiet. She was lovely and the forlorn sight of her tugged at his insides. He had an almost irresistible urge to reach across the narrow space between them and kiss her until her anger vanished. He stuck his gun back in his belt then slipped his West Point ring over her trembling finger. The priest, moved to tears, closed his book and pronounced them man and wife.
“Now you may kiss the bride.”
Slowly, Lucas lifted the lopsided veil, ever aware of their audience. He looked at Rachel and kissed her long and lingeringly. Loud hoots erupted from the back of the church in joyous revelry. There was not one dry eye. A colonel rode up outside. When apprised of the wedding, he offered his congratulations and heartfelt apologies, and then ordered his men to leave at once.
When the soldiers departed, Father O’Connor spoke. “I assure you the proper registry of your correct names will be documented and hidden here in this church for safekeeping.”
Lucas stood stricken. “You mean we are really married?”
“Marriage is a blessed sacrament bound by God,” confirmed the priest.
“I don’t hold you to this obligation.” Rachel stamped her foot and glared at Lucas.
Father O’Connor interrupted. “For safety’s sake, you need to leave as soon as possible. I have a friend who owns a slave cabin hidden in the woods, four miles from here. My servant, Joseph, will take you there and provide for your comfort. Of course, it will be temporary. I will send you a message as soon as possible. You two can work this out on your own and out of prying eyes.”
The priest steepled his fingers, pointing them heavenward. “One more word of counsel. Happiness is often found somewhere you don’t expect. As the events have developed today, I have become certain that what has been placed in motion is truly blessed and shall endure a long and permanent witness to the will of God. I will keep you both in my prayers.”
Lucas blew out a breath. Looking at the brewing hornet’s nest in Rachel, he’d need more than prayers.
Chapter Fourteen
