Sarah's Baby (25 page)

T
HE WEDDING WAS
at three o'clock in the homestead's beautiful old ballroom, which had been turned into a splendid chapel. Masses and masses of flowers had been flown in. A fantasy of ivory-white orchids, luscious peonies as exquisite as any the Chinese emperors of old had exchanged for dowries, magnificent cream delphiniums, double-cream lisianthus, glorious perfumed pink, white and cream roses, frosted lilies all intermingled with the flowing branches of white-flowering shrubs.

It was all too wonderful, swelling the heart and bringing tears to the eyes at the same time, Harriet thought. She gazed about her with the greatest satisfaction. She might have orchestrated all this, so proud did she feel. Her dear Sarah and Kyall were to be married at last in the presence of the extended McQueen family and the happy couple's many friends. Guests had traveled from all over, she'd been told. They filled the huge room to capacity. Seated in a finely wrought chair, decorated lavishly with cream and gold ribbons, Harriet smiled to herself. What she'd hoped and prayed for was about to happen. She turned to the well-dressed gentleman seated beside her, gently tapping his knee.

“This was destined, you know, Morris.”

“I believe it.” Morris Hughes smiled back at her with great serenity. Kyall wasn't the only one to have his heart conquered, he thought.

The stately music began. The bridesmaids, four in all, began to move up the carpeted aisle between the long rows of decorated gold chairs. Lovely girls! Harriet gazed at them with pleasure. They all wore cream, ankle-length chiffon dresses, but each dress featured a different design in seed pearls, beads and sequins. Lovely as the bridesmaids were, though, Fiona eclipsed them. She was beyond any question Sarah's child. Harriet knew a momentary sadness as she looked at her. The image of her mother. She'd have recognized Fiona anywhere in the world. The girl was radiant, perfectly at home in Wunnamurra's ballroom. Fiona, the miracle child. After the town's initial shock had subsided, Fiona had been accepted into everyone's heart. Why not? They'd known that face all along.

There was a sudden hush as the bride moved gracefully down the aisle on the arm of her soon-to-be father-in-law. Max had never looked better, Harriet thought. But Sarah stole everyone's breath away. She dazzled as an angel might dazzle, casting her smile all around her as if to say, “This is heaven!”

I'll always remember this day.
Harriet blinked tears from her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to smear her mascara.

At last Sarah reached her rightful place by her handsome groom's side. Harriet's tears began again as she witnessed the expression on Kyall's face. His soul shone out of those sapphire-blue eyes.

“God bless you both, always,” Harriet whispered beneath her breath, catching Morris's answering, “Amen!”

The bishop, who had not risen to that eminence when he'd christened Kyall years ago, began the traditional words. It was at this point that Harriet slipped her slightly trembling hand into Morris's, charmed and gratified when
he held it tenderly and firmly.
Oh, my goodness!
she thought.
I feel like a girl again.

Solemn minutes passed and then the ceremony was over. Everyone turned to smile at the guests beside and behind them, their hearts opened to the grace that flowed in.

Under the benign eye of the bishop, Kyall took his wife in his arms to bestow upon her the ceremonial kiss.

“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered as he sought her lovely mouth.

“I love you, my husband.”

“Goodness, how perfectly beautiful!” exclaimed Harriet, her normally confident, self-assured voice surprisingly shaky. “Small wonder people believe love conquers all. It truly does!”