Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 04 - With This Ring (31 page)

Chapter 19

“With this ring, I thee wed, with all I am, and all I have,” I spoke softly, looking directly into Stone’s watering eyes, with all our family and friends looking on from their chairs in front of the gazebo, where Tom Nelson stood in his flowing robe, holding his open Bible. “I offer this ring to you as a symbol of my love, and my commitment to love, honor, and respect you, from this day forward. As this ring has no end, neither does my love for you. I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today.”

As I finished speaking, I smiled at Stone. As much as I had adored my first husband, Chester, Stone was my one true love, and I couldn’t wait to begin our married life together. My eyes began welling up too as Stone read his vows out loud to me. I could hear Wendy sniffling beside me, and looked up at Andy just in time to catch him wink at my daughter. I hoped the next wedding we attended would find Stone walking Wendy up the aisle to marry his nephew.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Stone, you may kiss your bride,” the minister said. As Stone kissed me tenderly on the lips I heard the flapping of wings as two doves flew out of their cage and around the gazebo twice before heading skyward. I’d always heard having it rain on your wedding day was a sign of a successful and happy marriage to come. At that moment I could have sworn I felt moisture dropping from the sky. I hoped it was coming out of the single fluffy cloud above us, and not one of the doves.

* * *

“Congratulations, Mrs. Van Patten!” Wyatt said, kissing me on the cheek. “The wedding was perfect, and you look beautiful. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see this day turn out so wonderfully. I had my doubts about it for a while.”

“Me too,” I said. I knew exactly what he was referring to. The day could have ended in tragedy, but instead, Sheila and I were unharmed, and Pastor Steiner’s killer had been apprehended and charged with first-degree murder just in time for our wedding to take place exactly as scheduled. I couldn’t be any happier. “Thanks, Wyatt. But actually, Stone and I have discussed it, and he’s content with my decision to keep my last name. We aren’t young adults anymore, and going through the hassle of having it changed on my driver’s license, social security card, bank accounts, credit card accounts, passport, and all that, seems a little unnecessary. We feel we’re just as married whether or not we share the same last name.”

“Well, as long as you two are happy, that’s all that matters to me,” Wyatt said. “I’ll be glad when all of your guests get their fill of cake and ice cream, and head home. You’ve had an eventful day and I know you can’t wait to get out of that dress and back into your jeans and t-shirt.”

“Stone invited you and Veronica to the fish fry tonight, didn’t he?” I asked in amusement.

“Well, yes, but that’s not the reason I’m anxious for the crowd to clear out. I can hardly wait to hear your story about how you came to find out Sandy Webster was the killer we’ve been trying so hard to find. But I realize you have a lot of wedding guests who want to congratulate you, and that you need to mingle and visit with them right now. So the story can wait until later during the fish fry.”

“Well, it might be a couple of hours, Wyatt. Would you like some leftover blueberry cobbler in the meantime? There’s some in the fridge you can have to tide you over until supper,” I offered.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

The End

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THE SPIRIT OF THE SEASON

A Lexie Starr Mystery

Novella

Excerpt from

The Spirit of the Season

A Lexie Starr Mystery

Novella

by

Jeanne Glidewell

My Lexie Starr holiday novella is dedicated to all the members and past members of the military, and their families. As a token of my personal appreciation, I am donating all the proceeds from the sale of this novella to the Leavenworth, Kansas, Chapter of the Toys for Tots program. I hope you will consider donating an unwrapped toy, or two, to your local Toys for Tots Chapter, which benefits many underprivileged families and helps them to all have a merrier holiday season.

~

When I walked into the smoke-filled auction barn the following evening, I looked around the room for a portly gentleman with less than a handful of hairs strategically combed across his head in a pitiful attempt to look like he wasn’t only fourteen plucks short of being completely bald.

I spotted him almost immediately. He was surrounded by a swarm of men who were vying for his attention, and I could hear his bellowing laugh clear across the room when someone tickled his funny bone. I watched him reach up and pat down his few remaining hairs, apparently to prevent his secret of being nearly bald from getting let out of the bag.

I wasn’t planning on bidding on anything, but I wanted to look like I had a reason to be there, so I signed up at the counter and was given a wooden placard with the number sixty painted on it.

I then headed to the concession stand to purchase a large cup of coffee. After one sip of the strong brew, I decided the city hall’s vending machine couldn’t possibly produce coffee that tasted any worse than the cup I’d just paid three bucks for. But that, of course, didn’t prevent me from planning to drain the cup and possibly return for a refill.

If at all possible, I wanted to land a seat right next to the mayor. I walked over and with my back to the throng of people enveloping him, I pretended to be engrossed in a text message on my phone. I was on high alert, waiting for him to make a step toward the metal bleachers, which were like those you’d find in a junior high school gymnasium.

When at last he headed in that direction, I dashed toward him, nearly knocking three people over in the process. In my haste, I spilt about a quarter cup of the crappy coffee on the back of an elderly man’s overalls, but he seemed oblivious to it, so I didn’t stop to apologize. However, I did rue the loss of about seventy-five cents worth of the awful tasting, but caffeine-infused, beverage. Maybe Wyatt was right. I had no boundaries when it came to drinking coffee.

When I realized that I wasn’t going to beat a tall, slim gentleman coming from the opposite direction, to the only empty seat next to Bradley Dunn, I pointed to the floor directly behind the lanky fellow, and hollered, “Look out!”

When the man stopped abruptly, and turned around in alarm, I practically flung myself into the seat he’d been about to sit down on. The bewildered gentleman looked back toward me with a questioning expression, and I said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I saw a big wad of gum on the floor and I didn’t want you to accidentally step on it and get it all over your shoes. It must have just been one of those floaters I’ve been prone to ever since my botched retinal surgery.”

The man just shrugged, and looked at me like he’d just come in contact with an escapee from an insane asylum. He turned around and found himself a seat three rows back on the opposite side of the bleachers. I felt a little embarrassed, but I got over it quickly when I reminded myself I’d been successful in getting a seat right next to the mayor. In my somewhat crazed state of mind, it was akin to getting an audience with the Pope.

I didn’t want to seem too obvious or anxious to speak to Mr. Dunn, so I sat quietly while the auctioneer began speaking in that rapid-fire manner that always amazed me. When a heard a mosquito flying by my ear, I swatted at it and unintentionally bid fifteen bucks on an old accordion that looked like it had been shipped to America on the Mayflower. Luckily, another woman who looked nearly as old as the accordion outbid me.