120 Mph (21 page)

Chapter
Twenty-three

Christian pulled her into his arms. His
lips found hers. He locked on, and didn’t let go.

A clearing of the throat had them
pulling apart, both looking rather guilty.

Sara turned her head to find Harriet
Thorn standing in the open doorway of the church rectory. She was quite
surprised by the woman being there. This was a new place for Christian; a new
town, in which he the Reverend. Why would Christian have given the one person
who made his teeth ache access to his new position?

Then again, Sara had been out of his
life for quite some time. Perhaps he’d never really disliked the old woman as
much as she thought he had; all a front, just to gain him sympathy.

“If she’s finally said yes, can we get
on with it?” Harriet asked tartly. She had on a lovely dress of bright blue and
held a vase of purple freesia intermingled with white daisies in her withered
hands.

Sara’s head turned back to Christian,
even more confused than before. She questioned about the woman’s presence
within only her eyes. As answer for the intrusion of Mrs. Thorn, he made a
slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Yes, Mrs. Thorn. I would say we can get
on with it.”

“Um, Christian?” Sara asked.

“Yes, Sara?”

She whispered under her breath. “Why is
Mrs. Thorn here?”

He gave her a gentle smile. “We need a
witness.”

“A witness to what?”

“A wedding.”

Sara took a step back. “Are you trying
to tell me that five seconds after I have agreed to marry you, I am
actually
marrying you?”

“Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“Ah, yes. It’s going to be a bit of a
problem.” In fact, Sara felt it a huge problem.

By God! She’d just gotten out of prison.
Was he serious about this?

“You and I are supposed to be together.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” she
rued.

“What’s to talk about? I love you. I
would hope you feel the same since you’ve just agreed to marry me.”

“Isn’t there some sort of protocol to
follow, things that have to be done? Stuff that needs bought? Preparations.”

He looked shameless as he responded to all
of this. “Such as?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Gee, I don’t
know. Perhaps a marriage license, a wedding dress, and a damn good reason why you
want to marry me a lousy half day out of prison.”

“The only reason I want to marry you is
because God has deemed it so. And well . . . I do love you.”

“And?” she taunted, waiting for more.

“And, unless you feel it really necessary
for a dress  . . .”

Sara nodded. Yes. A dress was necessary.
She’d spent the last six and a half years wearing the same color, day in and
day out. Gray. If she to get married, she wanted to be wearing white. Okay,
cream-white since no longer a virgin. She more than deserved a wedding dress at
this point in her life.

He smiled even more. “I have a dress for
you Sara.”

She balked considerably toward this newest
news. “That’s a little presumptuous of you, wasn’t it?”

“No. Not really.”

Her brow rose to contradict the hurried
answer.

“Okay. Maybe a little presumptuous, but I
know you’ll forgive me.”

“A little presumptuous?”

“Okay! A lot presumptuous.”

“And . . . ?”

“And, if you don’t like what I picked or
want to wear it, I’ll find you another.”

Sara closed her eyes to the look that Christian
held in his. He’d thought of everything. The Church, the witness, he even
bought her a dress, for Pete’s sake! What he hadn’t thought of was how she would
feel about the tremendous rush into matrimony to the one man who handed her
over to the authorities, in which Sara to spend seven years locked inside a
cage.

She’d confided her deepest, darkest
secret, and he’d turned that confession into Sara dealing with her past head
on. The punishment of her crime long overdue, but that was beside the point.

By her hesitation, he asked, “Do you even
want this, Sara?”

She barely made the words come out as
audible. “I’m not certain what I want.” And this was the truth. On one hand,
for the last seven years she has pinned for this man. Although there were
certainly moments, a lot of moments, in which she hated him and wanted never to
see his face again. Then those moments had slipped away by the reading of his
letters. He truly did love her. He’d been at the prison gates to take her from
her past. He was right before her, a gift to her future.

“Wouldn’t it be simpler if you just let
me lead the way this time?” Christian suddenly deemed.

“Simpler for you, yes. But for me?” She
paused, directing her gaze elsewhere. It was hard to look at him, and then not
love him all the more. “Well, I’m not so certain things can ever be so simple.”

“Things can be very simple, Sara. I love
you. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I want you to have my
children. I know it will take time for both of us to get to know the other, and
to allow the past and our terrible mistakes freedom, but I feel this in my
heart.” He tapped his chest. “I know this is right. I know it is what God
wanted for my life. What
He
wanted for you.”

“Well, God could have gone about things
quite differently in my opinion,” she argued, “if this is even what
He
truly
wanted for me.”

Again Harriet Thorn cleared her throat,
gaining their undivided attention.

“Well? Are we having a wedding, or not?”
She was not a woman who wanted to be kept waiting for long.

Christian turned his head from Mrs.
Thorn’s interruption to look Sara in the eyes.

“Are we?” he asked.

Sara suddenly felt a pull she’d never
felt before; a giving in to a man worth giving herself too. Christian Mohr was
all and so much more of what a kind man should be. He was an agent of God.
Surely he wouldn’t lie to her that this was God’s plan, if not the truth.
Surely he wouldn’t have asked her to marry him all those times, if he’d not
meant it.

Could she jump into the deep water with
her eyes closed, and let this be the direction her new life is to take? Sara
put clinical thought behind her spoken words. “So, what you are saying is . . .
you bought a dress, have witnesses, asked for my hand in marriage—after having
done all these things—and expect children out of me, as well?”

His smile was sinful. “That does sound
about right to me. I have set the bar pretty high in the expectation
department.”

“What if I had said no?”

He gave her another grin that told her
he wouldn’t have believed it even if told him while Sara kicking and screaming.

Christian pulled her close. He put his
mouth near her earlobe. “What if you had, Sara?” he whispered, leaning back far
enough to watch her expression.

Just the man’s mouth near her ear had
sent shivers to all the right places, at just the right time.

Sara’s answer was quick. “I would have
been miserable the rest of my life, Reverend Mohr.”

“So it is a firm yes this time?” he
teased. “And we will do this now?”

Sara nodded. “Yes, Reverend. Now is as
good as any time to marry you.”

He took her hand, raised it to his
mouth, kissed all five of her knuckles, then told her, “Go change, Sara. I want
to see you dressed in white.”

Harriet had come forth and guided Sara
into the ladies’ waiting room. Once inside, the door closed, Sara discovered a
gown every woman in the world would sell their soul to wear, hung on a rack and
covered with plastic dress bag. The beading on the gown was so exquisite she
was almost too afraid to touch it.

“It won’t bite. Put it on. We haven’t
much time,” Harriet quibbled.

Rushed from one thing into the next,
fifteen minutes later Sara was standing in front of a mirror in a wedding gown,
her hair fixed, and makeup applied to her face. Things she hadn’t felt or done
in six years. She looked at her reflection and frowned.

“You look lovely, my dear. Why the long
face?” Harriet asked.

Sara’s thoughts were pulled back by the
sound of the old woman’s voice.

“Do I?”

Harriet handed her a delicate bouquet of
white roses. “Yes. Quite lovely when in that dress. But then I knew you would
be.”

Sara turned her head. “Mrs. Thorn, can I
ask you something personal?”

“Certainly.”

“When we first met..,” Sara started.

“At my yard sale,” Harried offered.

Sara nodded. “Yes, at your yard sale.”

Harriet quickly interjected her thoughts,
well before Sara could even ask the question. “I told you he was the one,
didn’t I.”

Sara again nodded. “Yes.” She paused.
“But how did you know?” How could anyone possibly know when another was right
for someone?

“I didn’t. God did.”

“And how did
He
tell you?”

“
He
did not speak to me, if that
is what you’re asking.
He
simply made it seem right in the heart. And
that is all we can ever ask of our God—for things to feel right in the heart.”

“Feel right in the heart? I don’t
understand, Mrs. Thorn.”

“Yes, Sara.” Harriet gave Sara a quick
pat to the back of her hand. “Does it feel right in your heart to be marrying
Christian, and about to give yourself to one man for the rest of your life?”

Sara moved her eyes away, back to the
mirror before her. She took a moment toward putting thought over this while she
stared at her reflection—a quick moment, because the answer was so easily
reachable inside her head.

“Yes. It does feel right.” A sudden
smile came forth, and wouldn’t be checked.

“Then let’s get the two of you married
so you can start on those babies.”

“Mrs. Thorn!”

Harriet shook her head. Her bright smile
crinkled her withered face and pinched up her cheeks. “I may be old, Sara, but
I am not dead. And sex with the one you love is the most incredible thing there
is—next to a full box of chocolates.”

Sara could feel her cheeks burning red
as the old woman escorted her out of the room, took her back to the large
sanctuary, and walked her toward Reverend Mohr, who stood at the front of his
church.

He was now in suit and tie, looking as
scrumptious as ever—to a woman who’d been without a man in her life for six
full years. The last time she’d been free and had thrown herself at him, he, in
turn, refused to accept the generous offer due to misguided convictions of
displeasing his flock, community, and God.

Sara’s slow and steady footsteps guided
her past at least fifty people she’d never met before. All of them had smiles
on their faces, a few with tears in their eyes. It wasn’t until she came to a
full stop in front of Christian that she noticed he had a tear in his eye, as
well.

She whispered, “Are you sad about this?”

Oh, God! If he’s sad about marrying me,
then why did he ask?

“Heavens, no!” he mentioned under his
breath. “I am the happiest man alive. You look so incredibly beautiful, Sara .
. . an angel in my eyes, especially in that exquisite gown.”

She turned her head and found another
Man
of the Cloth
standing behind the pulpit. He was smiling at both, Bible in
hand, waiting for their brief discussion at the altar to end so he could get on
with the proceedings.

“When you are ready, Reverend Mohr,” he
told Christian.

Christian took Sara’s hand and gave it a
gentle squeeze. He nodded his head. “I do believe we are ready.”

Sara leaned her head over and whispered
out of the side of her mouth. “Christian?”

He did the same. “Yes, Sara?”

The Reverend who was going to marry them
had already started on his speech and was introducing himself to those who had
come inside the church to witness the marriage.

Christian had planned everything—even
the guests.

“I haven’t any underwear on beneath this
gown.”

The man standing at her side holding her
hand suddenly looked as though lightning was going to strike him inside the walls
of his church.

“Lord Have Mercy, Sara. Did you have to
tell me that
now
?” he whispered back.

“I thought it best not to wait.”

His face turned to her. “You did, did
you?” he ruled shamelessly. “Think you can handle at least an hour wait?”

He gave her a huge smile, turned his
face to the Reverend about to marry them, and said loudly, “Get to the good
stuff, Reverend Deed. I do believe God—and Christian Mohr—have become impatient
all of a sudden.”