Epilogue
“I don’t know how you got through this stage, Danica.” Anya’s voice echoed from the inside of the toilet bowl. Her wedding gown was hitched around her knees, held there by her maid of honor. Together, they barely fit inside the bathroom stall of the brand new church. Especially with Danica’s enormous belly.
“It’s twice as bad with twins,” Danica said cheerfully. “Maybe you’re having twins too.”
“Don’t even joke about it. Instead of exchanging vows, I’m going to be telling Wydell he’s sleeping in the barn from now on so he can’t knock me up again.” Who could have guessed that his swimmers were stronger than her birth control pills? Another full-body heave emptied her stomach of the few crackers she’d eaten earlier.
Danica’s soft laugh didn’t improve Anya’s mood any. But the cool cloth on the back of her sticky neck did. She sighed. “That has to be my momma’s doing.”
“I’m here, love. What a terrible time for morning sickness. Are you sure this isn’t pre-wedding jitters?”
“Totally sure,” Anya said, though her weakened voice didn’t sound as convincing as she’d hoped. But when she thought of her hunky man out there in a dress blues waiting for her, her stomach hatched butterflies of another sort.
She was going to be his wife. The mother of his child. Tonight, after a huge reception with the whole town of Los Vista, which had now doubled in population, Wydell would carry her across the threshold of their very own home.
And lay her on their king-sized bed and make love to her.
Her hormonal body did a wild swing from nauseated to aroused. God, she’d have to ask Danica if this was normal. No way would she talk to her mother about it.
She pushed away from the toilet and managed to get to her feet. Her gown cascaded around her thighs and fell to her feet.
“Not even wrinkled. You still look lovely. Here, rinse your mouth.” Her mother handed her a bottle of water. Anya rinsed and spit into the sink. After washing her hands and patting the perspiration off her forehead, she looked at her mother and best friend. “I’m ready.”
“You are,” Danica said, glowing in a navy blue sheath dress that managed to hug her baby bump and make her look as if she’d just walked off the red carpet. “Here, suck on this mint.” Danica pushed one into her hand. “They got me through the worst of the nausea.”
The faint strains of the opening wedding songs trickled into the bathroom.
“Oh no. Now the wedding jitters are hitting.” She felt like running back into the stall.
“Anya, you are lovely and there is a beautiful and good man waiting out there for you. Now straighten your shoulders and walk out there like the pageant queen you are.” Her mother’s eyes danced with mirth, having heard the stories about how Wydell had believed her to be a stuck-up prima donna.
In a whirlwind she would hardly remember later, Anya walked proudly to the head of the long aisle running the length of the new church. The oak pews on either side were stuffed with the growing residents of Los Vista and friends and family.
Anya’s gaze hit her man’s. Even from thirty paces away, energy crackled between them. She flexed her fingers around the bouquet she couldn’t recall picking up, feeling as if she’d touched the new electric fence on their property for their small cattle herd.
As the wedding march resonated through the space, she put one foot in front of the other until the moment Wydell’s fingers closed around hers.
The lump in Wydell’s throat wouldn’t go away no matter how often he swallowed. It probably didn’t help that he’d had too many drinks the night before, thanks to his buddies. They’d taken him into the next town, and while he’d accepted a few drinks, he’d drawn the line at the offered lap dance.
Boyd, however, had taken it and disappeared for the rest of the night. He had a feeling that his friend was a little out of control right now. Hopefully he’d soon find the thing that grounded him too, as Wydell and Brodie had.
Brodie and the other guys stood up with him in their dress blues. As gifts to all of them who’d fought with Matt, Danica had small brass pins tacked to their breasts with Matt’s name stamped across it.
Looking up, Wydell’s brain did a tuck and roll. His Anya, his beautiful bride… He swallowed hard again.
This was really happening. She was coming toward him. As soon as she stood before him, her slender fingers locked in his and her eyes shining, he knew he’d gotten damn lucky in this life. And now their two heartbeats were three.
He glanced down her curvy figure to her middle. Tiny pearls circled her waist, which was just beginning to thicken. Only he noticed it, and that was because he knew her body so well. Knew everything about her, really.
And she knew him. As she spoke her vows in a crystalline voice that everyone clear to the back of the church could hear, he couldn’t have been prouder to call her his bride.
He was so excited that he might have rushed through his own vows. Pastor Kent gave him a smile and said, “I think someone’s eager to get to the kissing part. Well don’t let me stop you. Kiss your bride, Wydell.”
Without hesitation, he cupped Anya’s delicate jaw and swooped in as she threw her arms around him. Lips colliding, her bouquet crushed against his nape. And her sweet flavors galloping through his mind.
Still kissing her, he swung her into his arms and carried her down the aisle. When they burst out the door, Anya tossed her bouquet behind her without bothering with a glance.
“I can’t believe you didn’t let anybody get a photo of that,” he said, nibbling her ear.
“Have you been pining for one?” That sassy tone of hers bordered on argumentative.
“Why, yes, Mrs. Jackson, I have.” He set her on her feet and they stared at each other while people poured out of the church. He was vaguely aware of photographs being snapped, but he was too busy looking at Anya.
“Wydell, will you wear your cowboy hat for the reception?”
A crooked smile spread across his face. “I can’t believe you’d want to be seen with me wearing that battered old thing.”
“I do. I surrendered myself to the Marine, but the cowboy holds a special place in my heart too.”
“Does that mean I get to wear my spurs to bed?”
“Don’t push your luck, babe.” She went on tiptoe to kiss him.