“Well, I’m not going to write them for you,” the chaplain said with a laugh. He made the sign of the cross and launched into a lengthy speech about the responsibilities of marriage. I was too focused on coming up with my vows to pay attention. Worry skittered across my skin. This was my wedding day, the only wedding day I’d ever have in my life. It wasn’t what I expected or ever imagined. If nothing else, I wanted my promise to Whit to be perfect. Because one day, we could forget what the church looked like, what we wore, or maybe even the priest himself.
But I wanted to remember what I said next.
Somehow, I knew the words would stay with me for the rest of my life.
I wrung my hands and began to pace, going up and down the path before the altar, circling around the priest and Whit, and then down one of the three aisles. Dimly, I heard the chaplain’s voice trail off into a long pause before asking Whit if he ought to continue.
“She’s processing, but please continue until it’s time for the vows,” Whit said, amused. “She’ll come back eventually.”
“Er… right, then.” The chaplain cleared his throat and continued in a soft drone.
I spoke out loud, sometimes in a whisper, sometimes mumbling, as I agonized over every word. The chaplain tried to follow along with my ramblings but eventually gave up. He sat in one of the pews and quietly read his Bible as I worked through my vows. Leo continued to snore, the sound echoing off the stone walls. Whit watched my progress up and down the aisle with a slight smile on his face, and when I came to stand by him again, I knew what I was going to say.
“Have you finished, then?” the chaplain asked, coming to his feet. He resumed his former position in front of the altar, the Bible propped open.
I faced Whit and took his hands in mine. I lifted my chin and held his gaze steady with mine. “I’m ready.”
Leo woke with a loud groan and sat up, his head and shoulders the only thing visible from where I stood. Whit half turned. “Kind of you to join us, idiot.”
Leo blinked, gazing around the church, and his sleepy eyes focused on me. “Have I missed it, then?”
“Not entirely,” Whit said dryly.
“You may say your vows,” the chaplain prodded. Leo stood, swaying slightly, and came to stand behind us. His presence made me curious. This was someone from Whit’s past life, and a thousand questions burned at the back of my throat. I wanted to ask him every single one of them, uncover every detail about the Whit I never knew. The soldier and estranged son. Devoted brother and loyal friend.
“Stop thinking about everything you want to ask him,” Whit said. “You’ll have time to ask your questions after the ceremony.”
“How on earth did you know what I was thinking?”
“Because I know you.” He raised his brows. “Your vows?”
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “Whitford Hayes, I will honor and protect you but only obey you if you’re being reasonable. Actually, you might expect me not to obey you at all. It goes against my nature, and I’d prefer to begin marriage by being honest.” His lips twitched in response. Fortified, I pressed on. “I will be faithful, and I will respect you—unless you do something unworthy of it, then God help you.” I thought Whit would laugh, but he remained silent. “In sickness and in health, I will be yours for all the days of my life.”
Whit licked his lips, his face pale in the candlelight. “Inez, I will honor and protect you and lay down my life for you. In sickness and in health, I will be by your side.” He gave me a faint smile. “And I promise I will never expect obedience from you.”
“Do either of you have rings to exchange?”
I looked at the chaplain in bemusement. “Rings?”
“It is customary,” the chaplain helpfully explained, as if I didn’t know.
But I had come to the church not knowing if Whit would show up. The matter of the rings had never occurred to me.
“We have none,” Whit said.
“No? Oh well; I think it gives the situation a sense of pomp and ceremony.” Whit rolled his eyes, and the chaplain hastily added, “I pronounce you man and wife.” The chaplain grinned. “You may kiss the bride.”
I startled, somehow forgetting what happened at the close of the ceremony. The last time we’d kissed, we thought we were going to die within an abandoned tomb. Whit leaned down and brushed his mouth against mine. I tried to memorize the moment, to capture the warmth of his lips, the almost tender look in his blue gaze. But he pulled away only after a second and then thanked the chaplain, while I stood reeling from what we had just done.
“Congratulations,” Whit’s friend said to me. “I’m Leo.”
“I heard,” I said, looking him over. He was tall and lean, with disheveledblack hair and shrewd dark eyes set under stern, thick brows. His look gave the impression of a grumpy raven, impatient to take flight. “And thank you.”
“You have family in Bolivia,” he commented.
“Yes,” I said, surprised. “How did you—” I broke off, remembering where I had first seen him. And with whom. “Whit told you.”
Leo nodded. “My parents are from Santa Cruz.”
