Read Online An April Bride by Lenora Worth - Free Book Online Page A

to continue. But both Stella’s friend Rhonda and her mother agreed that if they ended things now, it wouldn’t help either of them. In fact, it might put Marshall into an even deeper tailspin. He’d feel as if he’d let her down.
    And she’d feel as if her heart would never heal.
    “You love him, Stella,” Rhonda had told her this afternoon on the phone, the baby wailing in the background while she tried to calm Stella’s nerves. “I’m your matron of honor, so listen to me. Give him time. If you have to postpone the wedding, do it in a kind and loving way or you’ll spook him.” Then she’d added, “But he’ll fall for you all over again, so quit worrying.”
    But she did worry. How could she and Marsh build a marriage on so many swirling doubts and emotions? Where was the love in that?
    Dear God, I hope I made the right decision today at lunch . She’d come close to calling off the wedding, but something in his passionate plea to make this work had touched her.
    “C’mon in,” she said, guiding him down the central hallway into a cozy paneled den in the back of the house. Just off the den, the deep wraparound porch offered rocking chairs and a view of the backyard. Magnolia trees and crepe myrtles vied for attention along the paths and walkways, and colorful orange and white daylilies and azalea bushes with hot pink blooms shined in the growing dusk. The hydrangeasher mother so loved carried into the backyard too, with several massive bushes in sunny areas.
    She waited while Marshall took it all in.
    “Beautiful.”
    She turned to agree and found his eyes on her instead of the yard. Did he like her floral sundress? She’d worn it a dozen times before and he’d seen her in it. Did it bring back memories?
    “Uh, do you want a glass of mint tea?”
    He nodded. “That’d be great.”
    She moved through the den and into the big country kitchen across the way. “Mama and Daddy are out in the garden, picking a bushel of cucumbers and peppers for your mom.”
    “She’ll enjoy that.” He lifted his nose and sniffed. “Something sure smells good.”
    Stella turned to where he stood between the den and the kitchen. “We’re having pot roast for dinner.”
    “I love pot roast.”
    “My mother knows that,” she said, hoping to lighten the situation. “We’re all conspiring to smother you with good food and a lot of hugs and memories.” She handed him a crystal goblet full of rich, sweet tea with lemon and a sprig of mint. “We’re determined to bring out all the memories you’re holding dear.”
    He stopped and gave her a look full of awareness. “I do hold them dear. I do.”
    Stella could see something different in his expression. “I didn’t mean to tease you. I’m sorry.”
    “No, no.” He set his tea down on the big butcher-blockcounter where her mother had placed crackers and cheese and pickled peppers and peaches. “You’ve hit on the very thing that makes me want to keep going, Stella.”
    Walking around the counter, he touched a finger to her loose ponytail. “I’m holding something dear, or as the therapist thinks, I’m holding back these memories because I think I have to protect them. I just never understood until this minute that it’s not so much repressed memories as it is cherished memories.”
    Stella’s confused heart raced to keep up with him. “So . . . you think you . . . cherished me?”
    “I must have.” His eyes held hers with that promise he refused to break. “If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t be standing here now.”
    Stella smiled up at him. “Want to see our shower gifts before we eat dinner?”
    “I’d like that.”
    “They’re mostly in the dining room right now. We passed it, but the doors are closed.”
    “I can’t wait to dig right in. I mean, most men just love to shop for china and to gloat over household goods, right?”
    She had to giggle at that. “Yes, of course.”
    He took her hand and followed her to the front of the