LITMIR.BIZ

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moment with activity, Ted reined in his desire to hurry her along. Unsure this feisty woman would comply if he did.

      Once Sally devoured two cups of tea and three cookies, she dabbed her lips with the snowy napkin. “Thank you, Mrs. Sumner.”

      Ted lowered his half-filled cup to the saucer. “Now are you ready to get married?”

      She shot him a saucy smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

      A chuckle rumbled in his chest.

      Jacob slipped his glasses out of his coat pocket. “Do you have the license, Ted?”

      “It’s ready to go, filled out with the information Sally sent me in her last letter.” He withdrew the neatly folded paper from the inside pocket of his suit and handed it over.

      Jacob scanned the document. “Everything appears in order.”

      Sally lifted a hand, then let it flutter to her lap. “Pastor Sumner, you…ah, might want to change one teeny thing.”

      He readied his pen. “Be glad to. What would that be?”

      “The name.”

      All eyes swiveled to Sally. Ted frowned. What in tarnation?

      The ticking of the mantel clock echoed in the sudden silence, hammering at Ted’s already shaky composure.

      “I’m, ah, not Sally Rutgers. My name is Elizabeth Ann Manning.”

      Had Ted heard correctly? The woman at his side wasn’t Sally? He frowned. That would explain her odd behavior on the way over. Clearly his children had come as a surprise to her.

      No wonder she hadn’t remembered anything from those letters he’d exchanged with Sally.

      He’d been duped.

      Pulse hammering in his temples, Ted rose to his feet, towering over her. “Why did you lie about your name all this time?”

      “I haven’t lied all this time.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve lied for less than an hour.”

      Jacob stared at the bride as if she’d grown two heads, one for each name. Lydia wilted into a chair, her smile drooping.

      “What are you talking about?” Ted shoved out through his clenched jaw, his tone gravelly.

      “Have you ever been down on your luck, Ted Logan?”

      The question caught him like a sharp blow to the stomach. He shifted on his feet. “Well, yes, of course.”

      She ran a hand over her fancy dress. “Despite what you see, I’m destitute. So when the real Sally changed her—”

      “What?” he bellowed.

      “You’re making me nervous, glowering at me like that. It’s not my fault Sally got cold feet.”

      His pastor laid a hand on Ted’s shoulder. “Let’s stay calm. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

      Ted staggered back. “Who are you?”

      “I told you. Elizabeth Ann Manning, your bride. That is—” she hesitated then forged ahead “—if you can ignore a small thing like an identity switch.”

      “A small thing?” He pointed toward the door. “Use the other half of that ticket. Go back to where you came from.”

      Wherever that might be.

      Tears glistening in her eyes, she slumped against the sofa, her face pale and drawn. “I can’t.”

      Lydia hurried to the impostor’s side and patted her hand. She shot Ted a look that said she blamed him for this mess.

      Him!

      “I should’ve told the truth right off, but I was afraid you’d send me back,” she said, her voice cracking, tearing at his conscience. “I’ll get a job and repay you for the ticket.”

      Unable to resist a woman’s tears, Ted bit back his anger. Something terrible must’ve happened to compel this lovely, well-bred woman to marry a stranger. Still, she’d deceived him.

      Not that he hadn’t made plenty of mistakes of his own. God probably didn’t approve of his judging someone, especially someone with no place to live, no money and, in this town, whether she knew it or not, little prospects of either.

      Still, something about her claim didn’t ring true. If she was destitute, then it must’ve been a recent development.

      “Our marriage is one of convenience,” she whispered. “Weren’t those your words?”

      “Well, yes,” he ground out.

      She gave a weak smile. “Sally’s not here. I am. How much more convenient can I be?”

      Lydia released a nervous giggle. Looking perplexed, Jacob’s brow furrowed. Obviously nothing in those books of his had prepared him for this situation.

      Scrambling for rational footing, something Ted took great pains to do, he struggled to examine his options. He’d spent most of his cash bringing his mail-order bride to Iowa. He couldn’t afford the time or money to begin another search.

      Still, could she be hiding something else? “Are you running from the law?”

      She lurched to her feet and planted fisted hands on her hips. “Most certainly not,” she said, her tone offended.

      Unless she was a mighty good actress, he had nothing to fear there. Trying to gather his thoughts, he ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Will you be good to my children?”

      “Yes.”

      “Do you believe in God?”

      She hesitated. Her hands fell to her sides. A wounded expression stole across her face. “Yes, but God’s forgotten me.”

      God forgot no one. Elizabeth’s forlorn face told him she didn’t know that yet.

      Had God ordained this exchange of brides? Ted had prayed without ceasing for God to bring the wife and mother He wanted for him and his children. Had this woman been God’s answer all along?

      Lord, is this Your will?

      A potent sense of peace settled over him, odd considering the circumstances. “Well then, let’s get on with it.”

      His pastor turned to Elizabeth. “You do realize the vows you are about to exchange are your promise before Almighty God.”

      Elizabeth paled but whispered, “Yes.”

      Though Jacob didn’t look entirely convinced, he changed the bride’s name on the document.

      Lydia unpinned the flower on Elizabeth’s dress and handed it to his bride, her bridal bouquet, then reeled to the organ in the back corner of the room. Her voice rose above the strains of “Love’s Old Sweet Song” while Jacob motioned them to a makeshift altar. The song ended and Lydia slipped in beside Elizabeth.

      “Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today to…”

      Ted considered bolting out the door. But he couldn’t plant the crops with Anna trailing after him and Henry riding on his back like a papoose. He had priorities that demanded a wife, even if he hadn’t picked this one. He trusted with every particle of his being that God had.

      “Ted, did you hear me?”

      “I’m sorry, what?”

      “Join hands with your bride,” Jacob said in a gentle tone.

      Ted took Elizabeth’s ungloved hand, soft, small boned, cold, like his. Under that forceful exterior lived a woman as uncertain and unsettled as him.

      “Elizabeth Ann Manning, do you take Theodore Francis Logan to be your wedded husband, to live together in holy marriage?”

      She swallowed. Hard. “I do.”

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