Faith nodded, unable to pull her gaze off him. He touched the back of her waist and guided her out the door.
Chapter Ten
Faith gasped in pleasure when Ryan turned down the entrance drive to the McKinley Orchards. The lane was lined with brilliantly pink redbud trees in full blossom.
“Oh, look. I’ve never seen anything so pretty in my life,” she said a few minutes later when Ryan opened the car door for her and she alighted. The garden and landscape blazed so bright with spring color, it was almost blinding to the eyes. Brilliant tulips lined the path to the café, but beyond their tame, orderly border, Clarisse and Nathan had let nature do the gardening. Amaryllis, begonia, bluebell and grape hyacinth waved in the gentle breeze. In the distance stood the groves of blooming fruit trees—fuchsia peach blossoms, snow-white apple and pear, lavender plum and pink cherry. The smooth blue sky and the ruffled, sparkling lake provided a soothing backdrop to the vibrant palette of color.
She glanced at Ryan and they shared a smile.
Several people were walking to greet them along the stone-paved path that led to the café. Mari looked like part of the landscape in a magenta-colored dress with her hair spilling around her shoulders. The tall, arrestingly handsome man with the golden-brown hair and tawny skin who walked by her side must be Marc Kavanaugh. She recognized the sunburned, white-haired, thin man with a camera strapped around his neck as Nathan McKinl
ey, the orchard owner. The man who brought up the rear of the party must be Father Mike.
“Could you possibly have picked a more perfect day for this?” Mari enthused as she reached them, hugging Faith first and her brother second. She beamed at both of them as she stepped back. “Oh, my. You two are a picture.”
“Lucky I’m ready to take one, then,” Nathan said, holding up his camera as Ryan shook hands with and greeted him, Marc and Father Mike. He introduced Faith to Marc and Father Mike.
“It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve known Ryan and Mari since they were as tall as my knee,” Father Mike said, taking Faith’s hand. “As you can see, a lot has changed since then,” the priest joked, tilting his thumb at Ryan. The top of Father Mike’s head currently was even with one of Ryan’s silver shoulder boards.
“Father Mike married us, too,” Marc said, taking Faith’s hand.
Faith smiled tremulously. She’d worried before about the idea of having a priest marry them versus a justice of the peace. She understood from Mari that they had been brought up as Maronite Christians by their parents, who were very orthodox in their practice, even if Mari and Ryan had not remained strict adherents as adults. Having a priest marry them seemed so much more...binding than a justice of the peace, although Ryan had assured her that when it came to the law, which is why they were marrying, it made no difference whatsoever.
She’d previously had those doubts.
As she stood there at Ryan’s side with all those kind, smiling people, the spring day surrounding them like a blessing, she was glad they’d get married by an old family friend...a man of God.
“Well, should we proceed?” Father Mike asked, waving toward the blossoming groves, a twinkle in his eye.
“Absolutely,” Ryan said, his eyes on Faith, his gaze warmer than the sunshine. He held out his arm for her, and she took it.
* * *
Later she wished she could remember more details of the brief ceremony. It was as if the whole experience passed in a blaze of sensation: golden sunshine, brilliant blooms, the sweet scent wafting off the trees, the sound of the waves breaking on the beach in the distance...the warm, steady look in Ryan’s eyes as they repeated their vows. She recalled the cool sensation of the white gold on her skin as Ryan slipped the ring on her finger, the sound of Father Mike’s voice saying, I now pronounce you husband and wife. She remembered the radiant expression on Mari’s face as she looked on, tears spilling down her cheek.
But she’d never forget the first time Ryan kissed her as her husband.
His mouth felt warm and cherishing as it moved over hers. When they parted, a thrill of anticipation went through her when she saw the possessive gleam in his eyes.
* * *
Clarisse served them lunch on the terrace, where they sat in shade and looked out on to a sunny, sparkling Lake Michigan. Ryan hardly saw the view, however, as busy as he was touching Faith’s bare shoulder and staring. She looked more radiant than he’d ever seen her.
He managed to tear his gaze off her for a split second and saw Marc looking at his wife, his head close to hers.
“Do you remember the last time we sat at this table? You were pregnant then, too,” he murmured.
“Of course I remember,” she said softly, exchanging a meaningful glance with her husband. “This place is charmed. That’s why I suggested it for you two.” She transferred her gaze to Ryan and Faith. Faith looked up at him shyly. He leaned down to kiss her mouth.
“So you two plan to just return home after this?” Mari asked later, after they’d eaten the delicious cake Clarisse had prepared for them from scratch.
Ryan cupped Faith’s shoulder in the palm of his hand and squeezed lightly. Was that a blush spreading on her cheeks as she toyed with her cake fork?
“That’s right,” Ryan said. “I was wondering if I can have a word with you before we leave, Marc?”
Everyone at the table stilled, but Marc looked the most stunned of all at Ryan’s request.
“Sure,” Marc said. He took his napkin from his lap and pointed toward the picturesque stone path that ran between the lake bluff and the orchard. “Do you want to take a walk?”