Blood Ties (27 page)

"Why do you have to be there?" Abbie asked Buck.

"Can't tell you," Harry put in.

"It's a surprise," Emma said.

"Will you all let me tell her?" Buck leaned forward.
"Please?"

Bowman gestured with his cup. "Floor's all yours,
brother."

"Bailey sent something over," Buck explained. "Your
mother had bought it for you. It was hanging in the
closet at Bailey's house."

"Upstairs on your bed," Emma said. "Daniel brought
it by before you got here."

Abbie looked from one to another. "Something my
mother left for me? I don't understand."

"It was for your birthday." Emma's eyes glistened
with moisture. "I don't know when it is, but-"

"August fourteenth," Vernon supplied.

"Excuse me." Abbie slid her chair back. "I'Il just-"

Emma blocked her escape. "Nope. Breakfast first. Lots of excitement today. If your mother was here,
she'd say `Eat your pancakes, drink your juice, and
have another cup of coffee.'" She glanced at Buck for
support. "Right?"

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned at Abbie. "May as well do
as she says. Miss Emma can be awfully stubborn."

Minutes later, stuffed with more eggs, bran muffins,
and pancakes than she would have thought she could
hold, Abbie hurried up the front stairs to her room.
She opened the door, switched on the light, and
stopped short. Spread out on the bed was a gorgeous
leafy-green silk dress. A shoebox held Italian leather
sandals.

"Anati ... thank you." Abbie picked up the shoes,
cradled them against her breast, sat down on the rag
run in the middle of the floor, and cried.

An hour later, Buck, wearing a gray pinstripe suit and
tie, escorted Abbie and her father to a pew near the
back of the crowded church. "I'll sit with you as long
as I can," he whispered.

"Why-" Abbie began.

He put a finger to his lips. "You'll see soon enough."

Matthew took his place and led the congregation
through the shortest service Abbie had ever witnessed.
Two songs, a five-minute sermon, and the christening
of a Parks infant took less than half an hour. Two
youths, hair slicked back, faces shining, passed antique wooden offering plates down the rows of worshipers, and the choir stood to sing a hymn of praise
as the children returned to the pulpit with the collection.

Then Matthew spread his hands and smiled. "May
the Lord bless each and every one of you," he said.
"Today could have been a day of sorrow, but it's not. Instead, this is a day of rejoicing. It is my pleasure to
ask all of you to witness the vows of two people near
and dear to this island."

Waves of whispers flowed through the pews. Heads
turned, children bobbed up and down, and an old man
demanded, "What? What did he say about a deer?"

"Sit tight," Buck said to Abbie. "That's my cue." She
stared after him in confusion as he rose and made his
way along a side aisle to the front and exited the
church near the choir pews.

Warm laughter flowed through the church. Matthew
cleared his throat. When the murmurs continued, he
waved to the choir director, who signaled a stout
woman in a large-brimmed hat to drown out the chattering with a spirited organ rendition of "Let Us
Gather at the River."

When the last note died away, Matthew raised his
voice. "It is my great privilege to join Bailey Tawes and
my brother Daniel Catlin in holy wedlock. They came
to me this morning and asked that the ceremony take
place during service. I hope you are as delighted as I
am-as I know my dear departed wife would be-to
share in their happiness."

Heads turned again as the organist began to play
the bridal march. Abbie looked toward the door and
saw a tiny giggling girl-no older than five-enter the
church carrying a basket of wildflowers. As poised as
any crown princess, the freckle-faced sprite in a pink
organdy tutu and white patent Mary Janes danced up
the center aisle pursued by a three-year-old boy in red
cowboy boots and a Raven's ball cap.

"Aww, isn't Johnny adorable?" a woman in the next
pew whispered.

"Wait, Sammy," the boy shouted. "Wait for me!"
Halfway to the front of the church, Johnny dropped his pillow and the ring rolled into the nearest pew.
George Williams retrieved the ring from the floor,
smiled, and handed it back to him.

The pillow forgotten, the three-year-old dashed on
with the ring clutched in one tiny fist. "Sammy! You're
'sposed to wait for me! Mommy said!"

Sammy didn't look back, and she didn't miss a step.
Ignoring the pleas of her small escort, she spun and
twirled her way through the admiring congregation
toward Buck and the waiting bridegroom. Black-eyed
Susans and Queen Anne's lace tumbled out of her
wicker basket and left a trail of crushed blossoms in
her wake.

Behind the dynamic duo came a nervous and
solemn-faced Emma, wearing a navy blue dress with a
white lace collar, and finally, Will Tawes and Bailey,
trailed by Will's three dogs and Archie. The enormous
Newfoundland had distinctly muddy paws.

The bride wore an azure suit, simple pearl earrings,
and silver heels. White rosebuds trailed over the Bible
in Bailey's hands, and a small cluster of rosebuds was
tucked in her auburn hair. Will walked stiffly beside
her, his arm in hers, his eyes straight ahead, seemingly
oblivious to the animals.

As they passed her pew, Bailey met her gaze and
smiled. "Isn't she beautiful?" Abbie whispered to her
father.

"Yes, she is."

Daniel and Buck stepped from the choir door and
waited for the bride. Daniel had eyes only for Bailey,
but Buck glanced toward the back of the church before the ceremony began.

Nervously Emma took Bailey's Bible.

"Who gives this woman in marriage?" Matthew asked.

Will's voice rang out through the sanctuary. "I do."

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together..."
Matthew began.

Abbie reached for her father's hand and squeezed
it, wondering if he remembered another marriage ceremony ... and wondering if there would ever be a day
like this for her.

Every pair of eyes in the church were focused on the
bridal couple, every pair but one. Cautiously he
glanced around the sanctuary through narrowed
eyes, finding first one guilty person and then another.
With each passing moment his anger grew. How dare
they come here and make a show of their religion,
Bailey with her growing belly and Daniel equally
guilty of sin?

Daniel Catlin had been born and raised on Tawes,
and he should have known better. Hadn't he been one
of those who invited Dr. Knight and her daughter to
the island, who welcomed them here? And if he'd allowed them to disturb the burial ground, wasn't he as
much at fault? Bailey hadn't listened to reason either.
Everyone had told her to stay away from that marsh,
but she'd dug into the sacred ground, and she would
keep on doing it until something happened to make
her stop.

Something bad.

He couldn't kill them all. He knew that. He wasn't all-powerful, and he wasn't an evil person. He'd
never wanted anyone to die. The boy's death had
been an accident. He'd loved him, almost as much as
he'd loved Daniel. If the boy hadn't run ... hadn't
fallen ... hadn't screamed and screamed until he
had to make him stop, things would have been different. And the woman should have stayed away. He
never would have hurt her if she hadn't butted in
where she wasn't wanted. So in a way, her dying
wasn't his fault. It was the stupid boy's. If he hadn't
made such a fuss, they could have gone on being special friends.

He didn't like to think about the father's death.
That had been bad. He'd been sick afterwards. It had
troubled him for a long time, that killing. It had been
bloody, and he'd never liked blood. But a man had a
right to protect himself, and sometimes it came to
kill or be killed. Even the Lord could understand
that. Was it too much to ask that people stay away and
leave him alone ... that they let the dead rest in
peace?

It would have been all over for Dr. Knight's daughter if Buck hadn't come to the burial ground last
night. He would have gone to the tent and finished
her. It would have been easy-no one to hear her
screams, no need to be in a hurry to get away. But
Buck and the dog had come, and it was too dangerous
to try to kill them all.

If they'd come in the morning and found the girl
dead, it would have been the end of the digging. Nobody would've dared venture there to trespass on the
marsh again. Nobody would have disturbed the old
graves. Things would have returned to the way as they
had been for years. And he would have gone on protecting the sacred site.

It wasn't as easy for him now as it had been. He wasn't getting any younger. The wet and cold bothered his arthritis and made his joints ache. But if he
died out there, he'd never be alone. He'd be with his
blood brothers. They knew that he was one of them,
and they never judged him. They understood why
he'd had to do the things he'd done ... why he had to
do the really bad thing.

And soon.

The impromptu wedding reception at Emma's B&B
spilled out onto the dock and over the back yard.
The bride and groom danced on the grass to music
played by men with violins and women with flutes,
drums, and guitars, a boy with an Irish tin whistle,
and a gray-haired old lady with a small handheld
harp. An eighty-year-old man strummed the strings
of a handmade banjo, while piano notes drifted
through the open windows. Children chased one another in and out of the house, danced together or
with their parents and grandparents, and played with
the babies.

Steamed clams, oysters, and shrimp appeared as if by
magic. Neighbors produced platters of fried chicken,
baked ham, chilled watermelons, sliced peaches, fresh
tomatoes, and huge bowls of potato salad and
coleslaw. Nate Davis came with a keg of pickles under
one arm and a heavy aluminum roaster with a cooked
turkey in it under the other. Forest brought Aunt
Birdy in a yellow-wheeled pony cart filled with pies
and rolls. Phillip and Mary Love carried in tubs of sodas, pretzels, and chips.

Teenaged boys set up tables and carried folding
chairs and benches from Emma's shed, and girls
tended babies and laid out silverware, glasses, and
dishes. Older people shared memories and jokes with their friends and relatives and remembered other weddings and loved ones from times gone by.

Bailey, the thin gold ring on her finger gleaming,
clung to Daniel's hand in a happy daze. She laughed
and murmured responses to well-wishers, but never really heard a word. "I love you," she whispered when he
tugged her behind the big silver poplar tree for a private embrace. "Love you, love you, love you."

"And you've made me the happiest man in the
world."

"Will you still be happy when you're a father twice
over?"

"If I have you, I can do anything."

She sighed and raised her hand to admire her wedding ring. "How did you have time to find a ring? I
never thought of it when I proposed to you last night."

He laughed. "When we proposed to each other, you
mean. The ring was my grandmother's. Matthew
found it for me in my mother's jewelry box. If you'd
like, we can go to Annapolis and pick out a nicer one."

"This one feels right on my hand, and it's a perfect
fit. Just try to get it back."

"Do you know how much you mean to me?"

"I hope so." She snuggled against him. "Hold me."

For seconds or moments, he did, until Daniel's
cousins Jim and Buck found them. "None of that
now," Jim said. "You have to wait until after it gets
dark." Jim had his sleeping ten-month-old in a blue
and yellow baby-carrier on his back, and Buck's arm
was linked with Abbie's. She appeared happier than
Bailey had seen her since her mother's death.

"You have to come and see the cake," Buck said.
"Cathy's found you a proper Deal Island wedding
cake."

"How did she manage that?" Bailey looked from Jim to Daniel in amazement. "We didn't know we
were getting married ourselves until last night. And
we didn't say a word to Matthew until six o'clock this
morning."

"Simple," Buck explained. "Somewhere between
breakfast and the morning service, Matt told Mary
Love, who told Forest, who called Cathy. Her cousin
Billy was supposed to get married a week ago over in
Princess Anne, but his fiancee changed her mind
when she decided to stay at William and Mary for her
master's in something. Anyway, Billy's aunt lives in
Crisfield. She had the cake in the freezer, and-"

"Whoa, whoa. Stop." Daniel laughed. "We get the
picture."

"Cathy's Uncle Chuck said he'd bring the cake over
in his Bayliner,"Jim explained, "if he was invited to the
wedding. Cathy would have caved and said yes, but I
held out for a case of champagne, too."

"You didn't," Bailey protested.

"He did." Buck grinned. `Jim gave him his creditcard number. Consider it your wedding present from
him and Cathy."