Mother's Day Miracle and Blessed Baby. Lois Richer

handsome groom who stood waiting for her with that crooked smile and that glittery look on his face. Was he as nervous as she?

      Clarissa met Wade’s uncertain smile with one of her own, then nodded at Carston. “I’m ready,” she whispered and stepped out.

      This was right. This was good.

      This marriage would last. She just had to do her part.

      “It was a nice wedding. They must think highly of you to have gone to so much work.” Wade tugged his bow tie off and tossed it into the back seat of her car. “I intended to change before we left, but somehow I never got time.”

      She knew what he meant. All those last minute instructions for the kids had taken eons. But Bertie Manslow had insisted that the bride change into her going-away outfit and then toss the bouquet. Clarissa still wasn’t sure how it came about that Blair caught the huge sheaf of purple-blue spring iris. Could she have been thinking about her own cancelled wedding and about the fatherless little boy who waited at home for her?

      “That’s quite an outfit, by the way. It’s very…” he thought for a moment. “Elegant,” he finally said.

      “It is a little overdone, isn’t it?” Clarissa fingered the red shantung jacket with its neckline of frills. “But since it was a gift and I’ll only ever wear it this once, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

      “Oh.” Wade drove on, obviously unsure of how to continue the conversation. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much of the mountains of food they laid out.”

      “I was too busy talking to everyone, I guess. It was kind of them to arrange it all.” Clarissa sighed, slipping her feet out of the stiletto heels that pinched, to rub them in the soft carpet.

      “I can’t understand why anyone would ever want to go through that again.” Wade shook his head in disgust, his voice telling her he certainly hadn’t enjoyed it.

      Clarissa felt the prick of tears and ordered herself to be sensible. “I’m sorry you didn’t like our wedding,” she said in a small voice.

      “No! I didn’t mean…aw, shucks! I’ve spoiled it again, haven’t I.” He huffed out a sigh that told her reams about his state of mind, and in particular, his opinion of this wedding. “I can’t seem to say anything right today. I just meant that it was so busy. All those people, all those gifts to open! It seemed, well, overdone. Too busy. More like a public spectacle.”

      “I’m so sorry. If you wanted a more private wedding, you should have said so. They’ve waited a long time to see me married. I guess they wanted to do it right. Especially after Harrison.” She was about to explain more about Harrison, but Wade cut her off.

      “I do not want to hear another word about your first fiancé. I got an earful of him already.” His voice didn’t encourage her to continue. Neither did his face. It might have been chiseled from granite.

      Her heart sank. Here they were, only hours married, and already they were arguing. She swallowed hard. Don’t be a burden on him, don’t weigh him down with your problems or he’ll hate you for it.

      “I’m sorry, Clarissa.” The gruff apology barely carried over the boisterous voice of the radio deejay.

      Without asking, Clarissa reached over and shut off the annoying sound. “It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, surreptitiously brushing away a tear.

      She turned her head and stared out the window, wondering how and when this day would end. Her nerves were stretched so tight, she wanted to scream, but grabbed a handful of red shantung instead. “It really doesn’t matter.”

      With a muttered epithet, Wade pulled over to the side, out of traffic, and brought the car to an abrupt halt.

      “Yes, it does matter.” He shut off the engine, then reached out a hand to press her shoulder so she would turn around. “The only way we’re going to make it through this is to be truthful with each other. We can’t hide our feelings. Agreed?”

      She nodded, but kept her eyes downcast.

      “I liked the wedding. I especially liked your dress. You looked beautiful.” His right hand brushed across her hair, fingers rubbing it between them as if it were a fine silk.

      She heard the funny catch in his voice and wondered why it was there. “It was my grandmother’s wedding dress. She always said she’d wanted my mother to wear it, but my parents eloped. I don’t think she would have minded.” Her own voice came out in a breathy whisper, but Clarissa ignored that because her heart had just speeded up to double time.

      The fingers on his left hand closed over hers in a squeeze, then opened and threaded through hers so their hands were interlocked. She could feel his plain gold wedding band pressing against her knuckle and automatically rubbed at her own.

      “It was gorgeous…you were gorgeous.” A tiny laugh came from low in his throat. “I guess I’m a little nervous. I’ve never been married before.”

      “Neither have I.” She risked a glance up at him, and found him gazing down at her with a quizzical stare. “It was pretty rushed, wasn’t it?”

      He shook his head slowly, his eyes burning into her with a steady flare glowing in their depths. “No. Actually it was perfect. All of it. You did a wonderful job.”

      There was something in his voice, something she didn’t understand. But she couldn’t look away from him.

      “Actually, I didn’t do any of it,” she babbled in a rush. “It was mostly Mrs. McLeigh….” Her voice died away, the words stuck in her throat. Nothing would come out when he kept looking at her like that.

      “Clarissa?” His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

      “Yes?”

      “I’m going to kiss you.”

      Clarissa blinked. How did she answer that? “Oh.”

      “Do you mind?” His mouth moved nearer, his lips very close to hers, his breath, sweetly scented with the chocolate from their wedding cake mixing with the tang of the punch they’d toasted each other with.

      Clarissa took a deep breath. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t mind.” She held her breath and closed her eyes as his mouth came down and grazed across hers. “Not at all.”

      “Good.” There was the sound of laughter in his voice. “Then would you please kiss me back?”

      She looked up at that, her eyes widening as she saw the caring in his face. He wanted this day to be special for her! That knowledge eased her fears and she slid her hands around his neck, nodding as she did.

      “I’ll try. Though I’m not very good at kissing.” Yet, she amended silently. “But I can learn.”

      Then Clarissa kissed him with all the pent-up emotion she’d kept so carefully in check during the many times their lips had met during the reception. This time there were no observers, and she tried to put her feelings for him into actions rather than words. If she was a little confused about exactly what those feelings were, well, he didn’t need to know that.

      When the kiss ended, Wade’s hands dropped away from her with obvious regret.

      “Is something wrong?” she whispered, aghast at her own nerve in kissing this man.

      “Yes,” he nodded. “Something is definitely wrong with my brain.”

      “P-pardon?” She straightened her jacket and pushed her hair back, conscious of the fact that he’d loosened the entire mass so badly that she couldn’t possibly get it back in order without a mirror and her brush.

      “I must be nuts to be sitting here on the side of the road, kissing you with the whole world watching us.”

      He jerked a hand toward the window and only then did Clarissa see the interested spectators craning their necks for a better look. Wade rolled his