A March Bride by Rachel Hauck Page A

’ re grown now. You understand these things. Your teen years were pretty darn good as I recall. Daddy and I both apologized for your childhood. Did all we could to make it up to you. This fear is on you. It ’ s yours to deal with no matter where or how you came by it. You stayed with Adam because you wanted a safe plan. And we see how well that didn ’ t work for you. Now you ’ re leaving Nathaniel to hide in your garden—this one just happens to be all of St. Simons. Marrying that boy is probably the safest plan you ever came by. Hear me now, Suz. If you let fear clip your wings now, you will never fly again. ”
    Susanna made a face. “ Never fly again? Don ’ t be sodramatic, Mama. ” She moved out from under Mama ’ s stare and carried her soggy Cheerios to the garbage disposal.
    But Mama took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. “ Fear is nothing but a big ole fake roar. You let it trip you up and, next thing you know, a mewing kitten will have you hightailing it to the hills. That ’ s the way fear rolls. Don ’ t look for it to play fair. ”
    “ Fear also teaches you a lesson, ” Susanna retorted. “ Get a swat on the behind, you learn to behave. Touch a hot stove, you learn to keep your hands to yourself. Get burned by love, you understand that nothing, not even the truest of intentions, is a sure thing in this life. ”
    “ So this is how you ’ re going to be? Cynical? ”
    “ I prefer the term ‘ realist. ’ ”
    Mama started to reply, but her old Motorola cell phone buzzed from the counter. “ Hold that thought. This might be your granddaddy with an update from the doctors. ” Mama answered as if it might be granddaddy, but her expression and tone changed as she conversed in low, clipped sentences. “ Yes. Certainly. Of course. I see. ”
    “ Who is it? ” Susanna slipped her arm around Mama ’ s shoulder. “ Is it Granddaddy? ”
    “ Shhh. ” Mama waved her off, shaking her head, pinching up her face as she listened. “ You can send it to my e-mail address. Yes, that ’ s the one. ” Snatching up her purse from the kitchen table, Mama started for the garage. “ We can manage from our end, yes. ”
    Susanna trailed after her, unhooking her old bike from the pegs on the garage wall. “ Mama, who is it? Is everything all right? ”
    She nodded, holding up one finger, closing her eyes, moving her lips as if memorizing what she heard on the other end of the call. “ Thank you for calling. ”
    “ Who was that? ”
    “ Restaurant business. ” Mama hopped behind the wheel of her truck without a backward glance at Susanna and fired up the engine. With a push of the remote, the door rose, creaking and moaning. Mama shifted into reverse. “ See you later, Susanna Jean. ”
    “ Yeah, sure, see you later. ”
    Susanna watched her leave, straddling her bike, feeling unsettled about their kitchen conversation. As if there were more to be said.
    Was her commitment to Nathaniel true? Strong enough to endure criticism from bloggers and royal watchers? Strong enough to give up everything, including her citizenship? Susanna pedaled down the driveway onto Stevens Road, heading for Frederica.
    What she didn ’ t know, the Lord did. “ If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God. ”

    The saline island breeze carried a lingering hint of winter, but the early morning sun promised a clear, warm day.
    Susanna slowed as she approached the low stone wall surrounding the Christ Church grounds, her heart aching for a touch from the Spirit.
    What was it about the unseen that made sense of the seen?
    Settling her bike against the wall, Susanna passed underthe ivy-covered entrance—a pitched roof covering over wooden seats—and stepped into the glorious atmosphere of the historic church grounds.
    Tears flashed in her eyes as she cut across the lush, green lawn, still damp with the morning dew. She breathed in the crisp air, absorbing the sense that the Divine waited for her.
    She found