Prescription-One Husband

CHAPTER TWELVE

IT WAS four long weeks before the wedding could take place legally and then they were forced to wait another interminable two. Those six weeks were spent by Fern in Sydney, supervising her aunt’s convalescence.

Fern had promised to wed on the island but to wed without her aunt’s presence was unthinkable. Even Quinn wouldn’t think of it.

The wait did give Fern time to collect her thoughts.

Or almost.

Quinn telephoned twice a day and each time he rang Fern’s thoughts were scattered like dandelion seeds in a high wind.

Still-there was time for other things.

There was time for Bill Fennelly’s tuberculosis tests to come back positive-and for him to begin to respond to treatment. He was well enough to accept a wedding invitation.

There was time for Fern to see Sam and Lizzy and wish them well and for Sam to do the same for her. Sam and Lizzy were planning an island wedding of their own.

There was time to see Aunt Maud well on the mend and time besides…

Too much time.

Six interminable weeks…

On their wedding day the chapel was deserted.

The whole island was present to see Fern Rycroft married but bride and groom had chosen another venue. The vicar, bemused but acquiescent, carried his altar to Fern’s cove.

There was no satin.

Fern married in a white gown of fine cotton, simply cut, with a low neckline, bare sleeves and a soft, flowing skirt that fluttered lightly round her legs in the breeze.

She left her red-gold head bare and her feet were bare too.

She was an island bride.

‘A lovely bride,’ the islanders had said of that first bride, the Fern of several weeks ago.

Now there was hardly a dry eye on the beach but they weren’t saying ‘a lovely bride’.

‘Our lovely Fern,’ they whispered as they watched her make her vows. ‘Our Fern…’

‘Our Fern,’ her aunt and uncle murmured with love and pride, but Quinn had a different adjective for his lovely bride.

‘You may now kiss the bride,’ the vicar said at last, eyeing this handsome couple with placid ease. If ever a marriage would work, he thought contentedly, this one would.

Man and wife…

‘My Fern.’ Quinn’s words sounded out as a vow as he gathered his island bride close and Fern lifted her lips to receive his kiss.

To receive all his love with all her heart.

‘My Quinn.’

Their marriage vows were sealed for ever.

And were blessed…

The waves rolled in. They’d roll in for ever, Fern thought gladly. On us, on our children and on our children’s children.

And out to sea a pair of dolphins leapt high in the rolling smell of glistening ocean.

The world was theirs.

And who was to say their thoughts weren’t exactly the same?