stopped mid-sentence as tears splashed onto Aggies cheeks and she shook her head. “What’s wrong, Mibs?”
All of her mental preparation failed her at the mention of Valentine’s Day. Although she wanted to pretend the day would be salvaged by a happy memory, Aggie had no doubt that the pall of the first anniversary of her sister’s death would kill the festive spirit. Trying to explain it, however, proved to be harder than she’d anticipated. “I want people to cry for happiness at my wedding if they must cry—not because it is also a sad day for the Milliken-Stuarts.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Valentine’s Day will be the first anniversary—”
“Oh! I forgot!” Luke’s jaw slowly tightened as he worked through his thoughts and put them into discussable order. “I—oh , I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Let’s just skip February, ok?”
“Then the date is March. Name the day, but it is March. ”
Aggie dragged the laptop back off the table and flipped it open. Thanks to her good buddy, Google, the calendar appeared. “Seventh, fourteenth, twenty-first, or twenty-eighth.”
“Not the fourteenth. I’ll take the others, but that’s too close to the ‘Ides of March.’ It feels ominous.”
“ How about the seventh?”
“Far enough away from Valentine’s Day?”
There was no doubt in her mind when Aggie shoved the laptop back onto the table and grinned up at him. “Definitely.”
“Can you do the wedding thing that fast?”
“ You better believe it.” Rain pelted the house even harder than ever, and the thunder rattled more than the windowpanes. “I want hot chocolate. Want some?”
“Are you afraid of storms, Aggie?”
“ Afraid is a bit extreme. I just really don’t like all the elements at once. One or two at a time, great. All… not so much.”
He jumped up to help her, grinning like a kid who just won a new bicycle. “I’m going to love this.”
She jumped at a new clap of thunder, shoving the cocoa canister into his hands. “What?”
“Discovering all these little things that we haven’t had time to learn yet.” For a moment, it seemed as if he’d disappeared into some distant daydream. “I’ve practically lived my days here for five months. I know you better than I’ve ever known anyone outside my family, but then it seems like I don’t know you at all.”
“I felt guilty,” sh e confessed with a sly smile growing as she spoke. “I felt the same way. It seems like you shouldn’t feel like you don’t know the person you’re going to marry, but I kind of liked the feeling. It’s like an adventure, and yet that’s crazy because I know things about you that no one else does—maybe even you!”
Luke’s slow nod told her he understood. While milk heated on the stove, they leaned against the corners of the island, their hands intertwined on the granite. Both Luke and Aggie seemed mesmerized at the sight before them, but at last, their gazes met. The look in Luke’s eyes stole her breath and held it for a moment. “March.”
“Seventh,” she agreed.
“A long time.”
“Mmm hmm.” Though she tried to drop her eyes, she couldn’t. “Too long.”
“Sunday after church?”
“Nope. It’s Saturday or the seventh of March.”
The scent of warm milk jerked her from their conversation. She stirred the pot, readied the mugs, and tried to control the overwhelming temptation to beg him to agree to Saturday or Sunday. It didn’t take long for him to say the only words that could assure that she would be Aggie Milliken for at least a couple of more months.
“I suppose preempting the kids’ birthday with our hastily arranged wedding isn’t exactly something Emily Post would agree with.”
“Getting married that quickly probably also gives rise to other, less charitable , gossip.”
“Who cares—” Luke sighed. “ I suppose we should. The kids would be the ones who got the brunt of it—eventually.” He accepted the cup she offered
All of her mental preparation failed her at the mention of Valentine’s Day. Although she wanted to pretend the day would be salvaged by a happy memory, Aggie had no doubt that the pall of the first anniversary of her sister’s death would kill the festive spirit. Trying to explain it, however, proved to be harder than she’d anticipated. “I want people to cry for happiness at my wedding if they must cry—not because it is also a sad day for the Milliken-Stuarts.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Valentine’s Day will be the first anniversary—”
“Oh! I forgot!” Luke’s jaw slowly tightened as he worked through his thoughts and put them into discussable order. “I—oh , I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Let’s just skip February, ok?”
“Then the date is March. Name the day, but it is March. ”
Aggie dragged the laptop back off the table and flipped it open. Thanks to her good buddy, Google, the calendar appeared. “Seventh, fourteenth, twenty-first, or twenty-eighth.”
“Not the fourteenth. I’ll take the others, but that’s too close to the ‘Ides of March.’ It feels ominous.”
“ How about the seventh?”
“Far enough away from Valentine’s Day?”
There was no doubt in her mind when Aggie shoved the laptop back onto the table and grinned up at him. “Definitely.”
“Can you do the wedding thing that fast?”
“ You better believe it.” Rain pelted the house even harder than ever, and the thunder rattled more than the windowpanes. “I want hot chocolate. Want some?”
“Are you afraid of storms, Aggie?”
“ Afraid is a bit extreme. I just really don’t like all the elements at once. One or two at a time, great. All… not so much.”
He jumped up to help her, grinning like a kid who just won a new bicycle. “I’m going to love this.”
She jumped at a new clap of thunder, shoving the cocoa canister into his hands. “What?”
“Discovering all these little things that we haven’t had time to learn yet.” For a moment, it seemed as if he’d disappeared into some distant daydream. “I’ve practically lived my days here for five months. I know you better than I’ve ever known anyone outside my family, but then it seems like I don’t know you at all.”
“I felt guilty,” sh e confessed with a sly smile growing as she spoke. “I felt the same way. It seems like you shouldn’t feel like you don’t know the person you’re going to marry, but I kind of liked the feeling. It’s like an adventure, and yet that’s crazy because I know things about you that no one else does—maybe even you!”
Luke’s slow nod told her he understood. While milk heated on the stove, they leaned against the corners of the island, their hands intertwined on the granite. Both Luke and Aggie seemed mesmerized at the sight before them, but at last, their gazes met. The look in Luke’s eyes stole her breath and held it for a moment. “March.”
“Seventh,” she agreed.
“A long time.”
“Mmm hmm.” Though she tried to drop her eyes, she couldn’t. “Too long.”
“Sunday after church?”
“Nope. It’s Saturday or the seventh of March.”
The scent of warm milk jerked her from their conversation. She stirred the pot, readied the mugs, and tried to control the overwhelming temptation to beg him to agree to Saturday or Sunday. It didn’t take long for him to say the only words that could assure that she would be Aggie Milliken for at least a couple of more months.
“I suppose preempting the kids’ birthday with our hastily arranged wedding isn’t exactly something Emily Post would agree with.”
“Getting married that quickly probably also gives rise to other, less charitable , gossip.”
“Who cares—” Luke sighed. “ I suppose we should. The kids would be the ones who got the brunt of it—eventually.” He accepted the cup she offered
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