Meant-To-Be Marriage. Rebecca Winters

      “In her heart she’ll be rooting for you, Jarod.”

      “I know that. To help her out, I’ll be gone long before she wakes up in the morning. It’ll make it easier for everyone. Father Lane will stay here for the interim to oversee the affairs of the parish. He’ll tell everyone I’ve gone on retreat. By the time the new priest is announced, it’ll be a smooth transition.”

      “How will you live?”

      Rick’s question jerked Jarod out of his reverie.

      “I’ve made tentative arrangements to do counseling in Gardiner, Montana. It’s a town five miles from Yellowstone Park. That way when Sydney and I are married, she can continue to be a park ranger if that’s what she wants to do.”

      “She’s a ranger?”

      “Yes.”

      “And she doesn’t know you’re coming?”

      “No.” His hands formed into fists. “What I need is the element of surprise. No matter what she says to my face, I’ll be able to read the truth of her initial feelings in her eyes.”

      “She might faint on you. Have you thought of that?”

      “I don’t think she’s the type.”

      “I would think any woman was the type if she were suddenly confronted by the man she’d once known as Father Kendall.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re the most courageous man I’ve ever known.”

      “Courageous—” Jarod blurted incredulously.

      “Yes. For knowing your heart well enough to face yourself and God with the absolute conviction you’re doing the right thing.”

      He shook his head. “You’re one in a million, Rick. But being sure of my decision doesn’t take away the pain of leaving the life I’ve loved all these years. It’s tearing me apart,” he confessed.

      “It tears me up, too. I’m going to miss you.”

      “The feeling’s mutual.” The two men stared solemnly at each other before Jarod said, “It’s past time for bed. You’re going to have a full day tomorrow helping Father Lane get oriented.”

      “I’m going upstairs, but promise me something first.”

      “For you, anything.”

      “Stay in touch.”

      “Of course.”

      Rick paused in the doorway. “I’ve loved and revered Father Kendall. That hasn’t changed because he has set off on a new path. If there’s to be a wedding in the future, Kay and I would come in an instant. I would consider it an honor to stand up for you if you want me there.”

      Jarod’s eyes smarted as he studied his friend. “It’s not a case of if, but when.”

      Sydney had arranged for a rental car ahead of time. When she arrived in Bismarck, she had every intention of driving straight to her parents’ home beyond the city limits.

      But after leaving the airport, the road sign for Cannon loomed up on her right. Only forty-five miles away and she could satisfy her craving to see him again at Mass. It began at ten. She still had enough time to make it. He’d never know she was there if she stayed at the back of the church.

      Just a few minutes to last the rest of her life…

      Despising herself for giving in to her weakness, yet helpless to do anything else, she pushed caution aside and headed west. She pressed on the accelerator, unconcerned that a highway patrol car would probably pull her over at this speed.

      She didn’t care. Her heart was beating so wildly, she needed the physical release. Right now nothing mattered but to feast her eyes on him again.

      Except for a few small housing developments that had sprung up in the last year, Cannon hadn’t changed a great deal. If it had, she wouldn’t have noticed anyway. All her attention was riveted to the parish church at the end of Jefferson Street.

      Sydney had worn a blue blouse and khaki skirt on the plane. Her outfit was dressy enough to fit in with the other women walking up the steps to enter.

      After parking the car, she waited outside the doors until it was almost ten on the dot, then joined a group of people and followed them inside. They would provide enough cover for her to slip inside the last pew.

      The people who preceded her had the same idea, so she sat down next to them, keeping her head bowed. But it came up when she heard a different male voice lead the mass.

      An older priest was conducting.

      Where was Father Kendall?

      Crushed with pain and disappointment, Sydney had no choice but to sit there until the mass ended. The second it was over she stole out of the church.

      By the time she reached the car, an older woman was getting in the one next to her. She nodded to Sydney, who couldn’t prevent herself from asking, “Do you happen to know why Father Kendall wasn’t there today?”

      “Someone said he was ill.”

      The news devastated Sydney. “That’s too bad.”

      “I agree. There’s no one like him.”

      No. No one…

      She flashed the woman a forced smile. “Have a lovely day.”

      In the next instant, Sydney climbed in the car and drove off, afraid the other woman might want to prolong the conversation. She couldn’t let that happen.

      He was ill?

      How ill?

      It she called his office, he would eventually see her caller ID and know she hadn’t had the discipline to leave him alone after all.

      “You’re out of your mind, Sydney Taylor!”

      With tears gushing down her cheeks, she drove back to Bismarck faster than ever. En route she phoned her parents and told them her rental car had suffered a flat tire, which was the reason she’d been detained.

      No one could ever know what she’d done. Never, never again would she waste time dwelling on Father Kendall. This was the end, the absolute end of her fixation on him. As of this second, IT WAS FINISHED!

      Two hours later she followed her father through the back door of the house into the kitchen. After riding horses with him for a little while, she needed a shower.

      “Lunch is ready,” her mother announced.

      “I’ll be with you in five minutes,” Sydney promised.

      She made it back to the table in four, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a blouse. The only difference between her outfit and her parents’ was that her top wasn’t plaid.

      “Pot roast. My favorite. Thanks, Mom.”

      Old customs died hard on the plains of North Dakota. Sydney’s grandparents and great-grandparents had always served the big meal at midday. Her parents were no different. Beef was usually on the menu.

      “What do you think of the North Forty now?” Her mother’s question jerked Sydney from her perilous thoughts. The disastrous detour to Cannon had left her shaken and filled with more questions. What if Jarod was seriously ill? She couldn’t bear it if that were true.

      “I noticed you’ve gotten rid of a lot of the leafy spurge since June,” Sydney murmured before taking another bite of corn on the cob.

      Her mother smiled. “Your father decided to try those beetles instead of spraying.”

      “That was a smart move, Dad.”

      “They haven’t gotten rid of all of the weeds, but they’ve reduced a fair amount. It didn’t cost me as much.”

      He reached