“You will be made clean again, a woman worth a man’s notice. You will gain a place here with a man, to be his helpmate, the mother of his children, as he will be your spiritual leader and disciplinarian.”
Anger snapped Alex from his indecisiveness. “You really think that’s what she wants?”
It was as if his words shattered some strange word spell. The congregation began to murmur, and he heard the men harassing the Chrises fall silent.
Reverend Banks focused away from Emory and pegged Alex with a hard stare. “Who do you think you are to come here and disrespect me?”
“I’m the man who is going to marry Emory.”
The murmurs grew louder, punctuated here and there by sounds of discord. The reverend held up a hand to quiet his followers. “And how do you propose to do that? According to church law she cannot marry unless I give my permission. Is that why you’re here? Do you think I would ever give my permission for you to marry my daughter?”
The undiluted arrogance of the man made Alex grit his teeth in irritation. Taking a deep breath, he remembered that the only important thing was Emory. “I realize that down here you think you’re the shit.”
Shocked whispers rippled through the gathering.
Alex wasn’t finished. “Truth is, you can’t stop her from marrying me. In fact, you can’t stop her from doing anything. She’s her own person. Emory can choose what she wants, do what she wants, be who she wants, and has been doing so ever since she stopped believing you could tell her no.”
The reverend waved a hand at Emory’s hunched form. “Look at her. She’s only a woman. How can someone so weak possibly make good choices for herself? She needs a good man, a righteous man, to see that she behaves.”
“She’s got a man.” Alex growled to keep himself from shouting. “But I sure as hell don’t need to tell her any of that shit.”
“Then what good are you?”
“I love her. And that’s all that’s required.”
The sound of Alex’s voice penetrated the black hole in Emory’s psyche and fanned sparks into flame. The inferno built, scorching away her doubts, burning her inhibitions to ashes, and sending a pillar of fire through her soul.
Alex loves me. Unconditionally, totally, without any strings attached.
The thought gave her courage far beyond anything she’d ever thought possible. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she said the one thing that had been on her mind for so long. “I only ever wanted your love.”
The reverend seemed surprised. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, Emory Louise.”
The grass was damp and springy beneath her fingers as she pushed herself up into a standing position. “I said that I only ever wanted you to love me.”
“I did love you.” Jonathan Banks seemed surprised by his own admission. “When you were obedient to me.”
“Love doesn’t work like that.” Emory gazed at her mother’s simple pine casket. “She only wanted your love too, you know.”
“Your mother was an obedient woman and I loved her well.” Her father looked aghast at his own admission.
“Love isn’t about obedience. Even God knew we humans would fail at that. You told me all my life that we should try to emulate God, to aspire to be like him. God accepts everyone, the way they are. I hope in the future you’ll try to do the same.” Emory reached out blindly, feeling suddenly complete when Alex caught her hand and held it. “Maybe if you get down off that pedestal, you’ll appreciate how much my mother gave to you. She even loved you, you know, though it’s too late for you to really understand that.”
Feeling the telltale burn of tears, Emory bent down and swiped up a handful of rich earth. She held her hand over her mother’s casket, letting the soil sift through her fingers until it made a tiny mound on the wood.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Momma, down by the Greenwood Side.”
Chapter Twenty
“Where are you going? The party is over here.”
Emory laughed as Morgan literally skipped her way down the street toward the festival set up in the grassy area before the courthouse. Her friend’s bustier, black leather skirt, fishnet stockings, and combat boots were totally at odds with her carefree movements.
“I’m going to run in and see what’s taking Alex so long,” Emory answered.
“You can’t miss this party!” Morgan let her voice slip into a cute singsong. “You’re the guest of honor.”
“No, the mayor is the guest of honor.”
Morgan snorted. “Whatever. We all know this festival is really a celebrate-because-MacIntyre-got-indicted-for-blackmail-and-the-mayor-is-coming-out party. And you’re the girl of the hour who made all that possible.”