LITMIR.BIZ

       Prologue

      Nobody expected the church to be full. At eleventhirty on a rainy Wednesday morning in Crawley, Nebraska, most folks were at work. But the postmistress was there, and the druggist and his wife, and the banker with his wife sat in their usual pew. Many of the county’s farming families were represented, for the families of the bride and the groom were farmers.

      And, of course, the Mortimer twins sat in their usual spots—sixth from the front on the center aisle. Flora and Dora hadn’t missed a wedding in this church for fifty-five years. A little rain couldn’t dampen their enthusiasm.

      “Doesn’t young Spencer look handsome,” Flora whispered.

      Her sister snorted. “Handsome is as handsome does. You can’t tell me that hellion would be up there waiting for his bride if—”

      The postmistress turned around and gave them an admonishing look.

      “Don’t you look at me that way, Emmaline Bradley,” Dora said. “Francis is still on ‘Rock of Ages.’ No reason we can’t talk when she’s still on ‘Rock of Ages.’”

      Flora tugged on her arm. “Look. They’re seating Spencer’s father,” she whispered. “He doesn’t look very happy about the wedding, does he?”

      Dora sniffed. “Frederick Ashton hasn’t been happy since he was weaned. Got two moods, that man—mad and madder. What Pastor Brown was thinking of to make him a deacon…well, that’s beside the point.”

      Lucy Johnson, on the other side of Flora, leaned closer. “At least Frederick made sure his son did right by poor Sally.”

      Flora bobbed her head in agreement like a chicken pecking at the dirt. “Poor Sally. I can see why she fell into temptation. That Ashton boy is so…so…”

      “Handsome,” Dora finished dryly. “I’m not so sure Frederick did Sally any favors.”

      “Oh, Spencer’s just young,” Lucy said. “A touch on the wild side, maybe, but so was my Charlie before we married. And we’ve been together forty-two years now.”

      Emmaline Bradley

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