A March Bride (A Year of Weddings 1 #4)(18)

“Sometimes pressure brings up the last of the yucky old residue.” He slipped his hand into hers, a soft prayer humming from his chest.

She wept for all the hours she’d hidden in her closet, pretending it was her magic garden while Mama and Daddy screamed obscenities at one another.

She wept for all the years she waited for Adam Peters, only to find out he wasn’t her one true love.

She wept for her soul, her heart, her country, and all she was surrendering for the sake of love.

“You’re saying good-bye to a life you’ve known up till now.” The reverend shoved a worn, soft handkerchief into her hand. “Press on to what lies ahead, to the upward call of Christ, the apostle Paul told us. And forget what lies behind. Something better awaits you.”

The reverend’s final words cut through every cloud of confusion and a blip of joy smacked her heart.

Susanna sat up, mopping her face with his white hankie. “I asked the Lord for an answer and He sent me you.” She smiled, peering at him. “Thank you, Reverend, thank you.”

“Did I help?”

“Very much.” Weird, now that the tears had dried up and the confusion had lifted, she felt so much lighter. Free.

Standing, she dusted the grass and leaves from her jeans. “I know what I need to do. I only hope it’s not too late.”





Nathaniel tossed his suitcase in the master suite of the St. Simons Island cottage. This had been the royal family’s American getaway since 1902.

“Liam,” he said, jogging down the stairs. “Let’s head to the Rib Shack, see if we can locate Susanna.” His chief security officer fell in step off of his right shoulder.

They’d arrived on the island an hour ago, set up the chief and staffers he’d brought along at the Prince and King Hotel before heading for the family cottage.

Listening to their syncopated footfalls scuff over the gravel drive as they made their way toward the SUV, Nathaniel second-guessed his decision to not ring up Susanna with his plans.

He thought to surprise her, but now he wished he’d told her he was coming.

Oh, how he missed her, ached to hear her voice, to see her face. Back in Brighton, he had often met her for luncheons and they dined every evening together, spending weekends touring Brighton’s glorious mountain retreats or walking the winter shores.

He was addicted to her being in his life. Living without her would be unbearable. Susanna brought him gifts he hadn’t realized he was lacking: ease, courage, and the joy of feeling comfortable in his own skin.

Liam headed down Frederica toward the Rib Shack as Nathaniel stared out his window, Wednesday’s soft evening light flickering past.

Being back on the island made him all the more homesick for Susanna.

He prayed that three days had been enough time for her to think. To perhaps miss him. To decide he was worth her everything.

Nathaniel’s thoughts came round as Liam turned into the Rib Shack’s sand-and-seashell car park.

As he stepped out into the evening shade of the guarding oaks, he scented the heady fragrance of grilling meat and sweet barbecue.

The sight of the Shack, the fragrant aromas, put him in mind of the summer he came here on holiday, met Susanna, and signed on to work for her mama as she enlisted the aid of anyone and everyone to share her daddy’s workload after his heart attack.

Nathaniel warmed with the memories of his days at the Shack. He’d spent several happy evenings scrubbing grease vats and Cloroxing toilets as an ad hoc employee. No one knew he was a prince.

He’d do it again to be near Susanna. To be a normal bloke.

Cutting around to the back of the restaurant, Nathaniel took the deck steps two at a time, the warm sea breeze shoving against his back, and drew open the kitchen’s screen door.

“Glo?” he called, scanning the kitchen for his future mother-in-law. The place was hopping, with two chefs on the grill and two at the prep table.

Bristol, a lean, ponytailed Shack employee, stood at the service window calling out orders. “Keri, pick up, table ten.”

When she turned to garnish a plate of ribs, she caught sight of him standing in the doorway.

“Well, I’ll be.” She curtsied, smiling. “Welcome, Your Majesty.”

“Bristol, it’s a pleasure to see you.” He nodded, returning her smile. He checked the urge to tell her that since she was American, protocol dictated that she didn’t need to curtsy. But she looked rather practiced and polished. He’d not deny her the effort. “Tell me, is Glo about?”

“In the office.” Bristol tipped her head to the kitchen’s back corner. “Y’all hungry? I’ll pull you a plate if you’d like. Liam, you cotton to baby back ribs if I recall.”

“You remembered.” Liam checked with Nathaniel before passing through to the dining room.

The big chap was all but licking his chops at the mention of baby backs.

Nathaniel rapped lightly against the office door frame. “Permission to enter?”

“You made it.” Glo popped up from her chair, reaching for him, wrapping him up in a hug. “How’s my favorite son-in-law?” Stepping back, she held him at arm’s length, her warmth and down-home goodness embracing the weariest places of his being.

“Better now that I’ve seen you.” He eased down to the chair adjacent to her desk. A bit younger than his own mum, Glo was a beauty with a bit of brawn in her soul. He could see Susanna in her features, in her actions. And he admired her.