Authors: Jill Marie Landis
The only sign of Cord’s nervousness was in the way he held her hands so tight as he began to speak.
“I, Cordero Moreau, take you, Celine Winters Moreau, to have and to hold from this day forward as my lover, my wife, my other half. I promise that I will never betray your trust, nor will I ever take your love, which you shower on me so abundantly, for granted. I will honor you, defend you, protect and cherish you for as long as we both shall live. I will seal my pledge with this ring as a token of my love.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a sparkling amethyst and slipped it on her finger. Then Cord reached out and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Another rousing cheer went up from the crowd.
When it was quiet again, Howard leaned close and whispered to Celine, “If you wish to say anything to Cordero, you may do so now.”
Celine took a deep breath and held tight to Cord’s hands. Unlike him, she’d had no time to rehearse what she would say to him, what vow she would make, so she trusted in herself and her feelings for him, opened her mouth and hoped the right words came out.
“I, Celine Winters Moreau, take you, Cordero Moreau, from this day forward, to have and to hold, as lover, as husband, as friend. I will accept your love and give you my own. I will trust you with my life and never betray the trust and love you give to me. I give my heart into your safekeeping, just as you have given me yours—a gift beyond measure and a responsibility I will never take lightly.”
She paused, gathering her thoughts. “I have no ring to exchange as an outward sign of my love—”
“Celine, it doesn’t matter,” he said softly.
She shook her head, and then, in a voice that carried to the crowd, added, “But if you are willing to wait a few months, I will present you with our first child.” Celine smiled in triumph. “You see? I just happened to have a little surprise of my own, husband.”
“I love you, Celine,” he whispered.
She stared up into eyes as blue as the Caribbean, eyes filled with love, and softly told him, “I thank God every day that I was able to change places with Jemma O’Hurley. I only hope that wherever she is, she is one tenth as happy as I am today.”
He smiled, a slow, secret smile. “For bringing me you, so do I.” He kissed her to seal the vows and then turned to face the crowd. “I want to thank you all for coming to hear us exchange our vows again and I invite you all to enjoy a wedding feast to celebrate this day. Since everyone helped, you know there will be plenty of music and food for all, so just follow the path through the garden to the mill, where everything is ready.”
Cord slipped his arm around Celine’s shoulders as they watched the assembled guests begin to head for the mill. The torches were glowing brighter now that the sun had gone down. In a few moments, they were alone with Foster and Edward, Ada, Howard and Auguste. Everyone wanted to talk at once.
“Celine, a baby!” Ada clasped her hands at her bosom, her eyes twinkling. “Just think! We’ll have to prepare the nursery, and it will need so much care, so many things to eat, porridge and mashed fruit …”
“Congratulations, Cordero. Celine, you have made an old man very happy.” Auguste kissed her on the cheek. When he pulled away, she noticed a tear glittering in his eye.
“Forty is not that old,” Celine said. “You could still marry and give our child an aunt or an uncle of nearly the same age.”
“I’ll leave the baby making to you two,” he said, laughing. “Shall we get a head start on that food, Howard?” Auguste and Howard left, with Ada between them.
“The perfect ending.” Foster nodded up at them from below the veranda steps. “Just as I always knew it would be, though it took some doing.”
“Yes, a ’appy ending. Just as it should be.” Edward sniffed into his hankie. “The ’appiest ever.”
“Before you turn into a bucket o’ tears, I say we get ourselves down to the celebration and see that all’s goin’ right before the bride and groom arrive.” Foster took Edward by the arm and led him toward the mill.
Cord turned to Celine just as the sun slipped entirely below the horizon and the sky blazed pink and gold. “It truly is a happy ending, isn’t it?” He no longer wondered how and why he’d come to deserve her love, but simply reveled in the joy of it. “When I’m old and you decide to wander through my memories, you’ll find this one tucked safely away,” he told her.
She looked away, out across the sea, debating how to tell him something she had been wrestling with since they’d left New Orleans.
“What is it, Celine? What’s brought that worried look to your eyes on such a happy day?” He hugged her close, teased her by rubbing his nose against hers. “Tell me.”
“It’s gone,” she said.
“What’s gone?”
“My gift. I can’t see anyone’s memories anymore—not yours, not anyone’s. I don’t know what happened …”
“Do you think it’s because of the baby? Maybe this is only temporary?”
She shook her head, having lived with this last secret long enough to know that her gift would never return.
“No. It happened before the baby, perhaps long before. I think the fever may have had something to do with it. All I know is, that day in Judge Bennett’s chambers, when you had me touch Jean Perot, I saw nothing, felt nothing at all. Thank God Jean broke down and confessed, for when I touched him, I was filled with my own thoughts, and nothing more.”
“I wondered why you spoke so quickly. You had barely touched him, and you didn’t seem to take on that faraway look or to go all pale and vacant as you always did. I can tell you now, the whole thing always scared the hell out of me.”
“Are you pleased, then?” she asked.
“In a way. I would have always been afraid for you, afraid that if word got out, you would feel compelled to use your gift to help others who came to you in need. I saw what a physical toll using the gift took on you, Celine. Too many demands would have been too much for you.” He looked out across the horizon. “No, I can’t say as I’m upset that it’s gone. Are you?”
“I might be, if I wasn’t so happy with my life here with you, and with the child to come.”
“And who knows—maybe she’ll have a gift,” Cord mused. “Or maybe she’ll just be a little nag.”
“Maybe
he
will be exceedingly handsome and as incorrigible as you.”
“We could have one of each.” He smiled down into her eyes, held her hand and rubbed his thumb over the surface of the amethyst ring.
She kissed him and then said, “You know, we
could
take advantage of the empty house and get started on—”
Before she could finish the thought, Cord grabbed her hand and led her back inside.
JILL MARIE LANDIS’S twenty+ novels have earned distinguished awards and slots on such national bestseller lists as the USA TODAY Top 50 and the New York Times Best Sellers Plus. She is a seven-time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award in both Single Title and Contemporary Romance as well as a Golden Heart and RITA Award winner.