A Blessed Song for Their Love by Olivia Haywood
Chapter Nine
Light streamed through the tiny windows of the town chapel.
The wooden pews were empty except for Arthur Stratton and Ezrah Gideon, who sat on either side of the bride and groom as they stood before the altar. They had come as witnesses to the union.
Buena had stayed at the ranch with Robbie, who was far too fussy and unsettled to sit in a chapel. Rosaline wore a beautiful dress, courtesy of one of Buena’s daughters in law, and her auburn hair was braided with wild sunflowers that matched the bouquet she held in front of her.
Rosaline had gathered the flowers herself, determined that she would have at least this part of a more traditional wedding. She’d gone for a walk after her talk with Thomas, returning after an hour with an armful of flowers.
“I noticed them beside the road and thought they would make a lovely bouquet,” she admitted sheepishly when Thomas shot her a questioning look upon her return.
They had agreed that the wedding would be simple and plain. No fanfare or ruckus.
Arthur had gone into town to arrange the wedding and fetch the dress that Buena had instructed him to collect, before coming back and helping his son into his finest suit.
The simple elegance of the blue dress wrapped around Rosaline’s frame, bringing out the brightness of her eyes and the soft glow of her skin. Her face was covered with a simple veil that hung to the floor, and she smelled faintly of the lemon oil Buena had insisted she dab behind her ears.
Thomas shuffled uncomfortably in his Sunday suit as he stood next to Rosaline in the wooden chapel. He hadn’t set foot in the building since his wife’s funeral, a day he’d sooner forget.
He listened with half an ear as the Reverend, solemnly gowned in black robes, snow-white cravat, and white surplice, prattled on about the virtues of marriage. God’s opinion of the union was not something that Thomas was overly concerned about. This was a marriage of convenience.
He needed a mother for Robbie. He would offer her support, and she would be a mother to his infant son. There was nothing more to it, no question of love or romance. That was a part of him that belonged to his wife, and it was a vow he wasn’t willing to break. Nor could he break it even if he wanted to. He knew he was incapable of ever loving again.
Even his son no longer smiled when he entered the nursery, a fact that stabbed at Thomas’ heart and made him even more aloof. The boy would do better without his presence, he reassured himself whenever he felt guilty about the growing divide between them. Robbie would have Rosaline to comfort him now.
He thought of his wife and the day they had gotten married. It had been the beginning of spring. Bellflowers had been in bloom and she had chosen them as part of her bouquet. It had been one of the happiest days of his life, knowing that he was standing beside the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.
The thought made his heart harden against God even more.
What had he done wrong to lose the love of his life? he wondered for the thousandth time since the funeral.
Mary had worn a simple yellow dress with a netted veil over her golden hair. The smile on her face had ensured him that she had been just as happy as he was at the prospect of a life spent together.
The second time he had seen her wedding dress was on the day of her funeral. Buena had come and dressed her, before she was laid gently in her casket. The pain was gone and her features were at peace, something that Thomas couldn't bring himself to feel.
He was shaken back to the present as the reverend addressed him directly.
“Do you, Thomas, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?
He looked at Rosaline and the hopeful look in her eyes. “I do,” he said after a brief pause, hoping he was doing the right thing.
“And do you, Rosaline, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health? To love and to cherish, forsaking all others?”
“I do.” She smiled and glanced at Thomas through the corner of the veil.
“ I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Thomas had made up his mind that they would not be sealing their union with a kiss, and he was about to say this when he noticed the look of expectation on Rosaline’s face. Her eyes were closed and her head was tilted slightly up.
Arthur cleared his throat in the pew just behind Thomas and the Reverend gave him a nod of encouragement when he hesitated. His conscience told him that he couldn’t embarrass Rosaline in front of the others by refusing her.
A gentle kiss would not be out of place, he reasoned with himself.
He gently lifted her veil and placed it over her hair. Her breathing had increased slightly as he took a moment to compose himself and look at her.
Rosaline’s lashes lay against her flushed cheeks. He noticed for the first time that her lips were full and rosy.
Thomas leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers.
Lingering for a moment as he felt the softness of her breath and the tenderness in her response. She kissed him back with a gentle quiver. He was probably the first man she had ever kissed, he thought to himself as he drew back and noticed how long it took her to open her eyes.
She was blushing a deep red that highlighted the gentle curve of her cheekbones. Thomas couldn’t deny that he had felt something more than he had expected, a sudden jolt of electricity that left him confused.