"Damned if I don't love you, Kezia Rose," he said, and she touched his mouth in an unconscious gesture of disbelief.
"What's more, I can prove it."
He bent to retrieve something through the open window of his car and handed her a loose bunch of purple flowers. Overcome with the heat, they drooped in her hand.
"They're lovely," Kezia enthused to protect his feelings, then tears came to her eyes as she recognized them. They were the pansies she'd planted at Deborah Kelly's grave.
"I love you, Kezia," Christian said again, and this time she believed him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
IT WAS A bloody good country wedding marred by only five instances of shameful behavior, Bob Harvey declared to Joe when it was all but over.
Sipping whiskey, Bob ticked off a fat finger. "One. A telegram from a dead woman, which was a bloody stupid joke. More surprising that Don fell for it and read it out." Bob scratched his head and quoted verbatim. "'Once a gambler, always a gambler. All debts discharged. Be happy, my darlings. Muriel.'" He shook his head. "Bloody thing doesn't make sense."
Joe gave a noncommittal shrug and took a sip of his ginger ale.
"Two." Bob held up another digit. "The junior bridesmaid, Bernice May ignored calls from younger competitors for a rethrow of the bridal bouquet." He gestured to the dance floor in disgust. "Now she's making a spectacle of herself with the two grooms-men, one of whom needs a bloody good haircut."
Joe watched Bernice May in her floral housedress twirl the Viking, Jordan, and suggested innocently, "Go tell him."
Bob pretended not to hear. "Three-Marion letting John Jason wear his Batman costume and bring three rats to the church.
"Now, Bob," Joe said reasonably, "how could I know Roland would be found alive and well in Christian's Ferrari?" The two men looked at each other and began to roar. Okay, Christian was a friend now but hell, the look on his face. Weakly, Joe wiped tears from his eyes.
"Four." Sobering, Bob returned to his grievances. Kezia laughing in church when she saw Christian waiting behind a makeshift picket fence. Understandable reaction-some bloody crazy city trend that no self-respecting countrywoman would buy into. But still, in church, Joe."
But Joe wasn't listening; he was smiling at his wife who was dancing with their son.
Bob yanked on his sleeve to regain his attention. "But the worst thing … the very worst … and you might not have noticed this, sitting at the back with the rats-" Bob lowered his voice and gestured for Joe to draw nearer. "-Kelly cried at his wedding. Worse," he added darkly, "he didn't care!"
Joe hid a grin. For the sake of Bob's sensibilities, he hoped the old farmer wasn't around when the Kellys' baby was born in seven months' time.