“No, Mom.” He took his hand away, keeping her gaze. “Why didn’t Erik kill me, too? Why didn’t I die in Afghanistan like so many of my buddies?”
She stared at him. His sudden misery had come from nowhere seemingly, but she recognized it. She knew from researching that survivor’s guilt was a natural part of the whole PTSD package. “I don’t know, honey.” It was hard, elbowing the words past the knot of her alarm, her concern for him—that he would feel this way today of all days—but he deserved her honesty. “I want to believe there’s a purpose to everything, and if your life was spared, there’s a reason, but I don’t know if that’s true.”
He searched her gaze, and she had the sense he was hunting for meaning, an answer that would bring him a measure of peace.
She went on, haltingly. “I want to believe that given time, all wounds have the capacity to heal—if we are patient and kind to one another, if we can forgive one another and tell the truth, if we keep love in our hearts. Living in this way won’t alter the past, the terrible losses, but the pain you feel, that we all feel, won’t be as sharp.”
He looked away at some point over her head. “Thank you,” he said, bringing his gaze back to hers.
“For?”
“Not handing me platitudes, not telling me it wasn’t my fault that I lived and they died. Not saying I was lucky and I should be grateful I made it.”
“Well, I’m grateful you did,” she said, fighting for composure.
That made him smile, and when he slipped his arm around her shoulders, her heart eased.
Paul rejoined them, and if he noticed traces of leftover emotion on Lily’s face, or in the air between her and AJ, he didn’t remark on it.
“Dad,” AJ said, moments later, “I think it’s time.” He nodded toward the house, where Dru, who was filling in as Shea’s matron of honor, was waiting for the best man to escort her to the altar.
Lily was scanning the crowd when she caught sight of Edward standing at the back of the seating area. He smiled when their eyes met, and she felt a wave of pleasure, even of anticipation, and then she thought she had no right to feel either one. She wondered what he was doing here, who had invited him.
AJ touched her elbow. “I asked Edward to come,” he said as if he’d divined her bewilderment. “I figured the guy who made my wedding day possible ought to be present.”
She looked at him, still mystified.
“If it wasn’t for Edward, I’d have been sitting in a prison cell on the day I met Shea.” He held her gaze. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” she answered. “It’s your wedding.”
“I didn’t think you would.” AJ’s grin was teasing, as if he knew.
What? What did he know? How did he know?
Lily’s face warmed. She glanced off, collecting her wits, her galloping heart. When her dad and Winona slipped into seats on AJ’s side of the flower-decked aisle, she joined them. Moments later, the jazz trio that had been playing as guests arrived, stopped, and the processional music Shea and AJ had chosen began: “A Thousand Years.”
Dru was delivered to the altar by Paul. Leigh and Vanessa joined her. Then Shea appeared at the head of the aisle on her father’s arm, and as the lush strains of piano and cello music blended in the soft early-evening air, everyone rose. The collective murmur of their admiration was woven into the rising crescendo of the melody. Lily brought her hands together. Shea was a vision in her grandmother’s wedding gown, a fitted slip topped by a lace-trimmed overdress made of the finest netting. The mermaid skirt was also trimmed in yards of delicate lace and flared from her knees. Dru had styled Shea’s hair, pulling it into a French twist, and instead of a veil, she wore a comb trimmed with pale pink clematis blooms and white rosebuds, the same flowers as those she carried in her bouquet. Lily had found her mother’s jewelry in the vanity drawer while tidying her dad’s bathroom several days ago, and she’d given Shea one of her mother’s bracelets to wear, a delicate gold chain hung with a tiny heart. It glimmered on Shea’s wrist, and her eyes when they met Lily’s were filled with joy.
But then her glance shifted to AJ, and they had eyes only for each other.
They had written their vows, and they repeated them now, words of love that bound them, but also freed them to be who they were—separate, yet together. After Pastor Ingalls pronounced them man and wife and gave his permission, AJ took Shea’s face in his hands, and he kissed her as if she were his treasure, his gift. The two of them turned then, hands clasped, laughing out loud like children.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Pastor Ingalls called out, “may I present AJ and Shea, Mr. and Mrs. Axel Jebediah Isley.”
Lily smiled even as her throat closed. It was the same for her dad and Winona. Many of the guests were similarly affected. The local folks, especially. They knew the tragic circumstances. Many of them would have known Kate and Becca personally. They would have attended their funerals, grieved with their families. The shock waves in a community as small as Wyatt would have touched everyone to some degree. But now, today, they rejoiced at this new beginning. How could they not?
Paul was right. By the time they’d finished dinner, the clouds had melted to reveal the sky’s star-spangled arch. A fragile crescent moon hung in one corner. The tables, where the meal had been served, were cleared from the large platform–cum–dance floor that Shea’s dad had hammered together for the occasion. A DJ set up his equipment. Dancing had always been part of the plan for the wedding, and while Shea was worried it was too much for him, AJ was determined to have the first dance with her as his wife. They’d chosen their song months ago, “Amazed,” and when the opening notes sounded, he led her onto the floor. He’d traded his crutches for a cane, but passing Lily, he handed it to her. “I’m only going to get this chance once,” he said.
Everyone applauded. They were moved, watching Shea and AJ, hope in motion. After a couple of minutes, the couple waved, and other guests joined them. Later in the evening, Lily danced with her dad, and with Kelvin Dermott, and once with Paul before he left to go back to Dallas. She was panicked for a moment, watching him go. She had a sudden urge to run after him and beg him to reconsider. Who was she outside her role as his wife? She’d become that person long before she could know who she might have become on her own. But something inside her was altered, and it felt immutable. She couldn’t go back to the life Paul had fashioned for her. He was her past, not her future. That was up to her to find now.
“Mind if I join you?”
Her heart rose at the sound of Edward’s voice. “I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to you,” she said.
“Oh?”
Heat flushed her cheeks at the teasing lilt in his tone. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did, looking into AJ’s situation.”