He picked up his gun belt.
Stopped.
“Still want me armed?”
Abigail looked at the scarred man everyone feared.
Then toward the door behind which Horace Bell was likely waiting.
“Yes.”
Caleb buckled the belt around his waist.
“Smart woman.”
They entered the church together.
Every conversation stopped.
Horace Bell sat in the second pew.
He wore a dark gray suit and held his hat politely across one knee.
When Abigail saw him, his smile looked exactly as it had in the bank.
Helpful.
Patient.
False.
She almost stopped.
Caleb felt it.
His hand tightened around hers.
“Want to leave?”
Abigail whispered:
“No.”
Then louder:
“No.”
Several people heard.
Bell’s smile flickered.
Abigail walked down the aisle beside Caleb rather than behind him.
That detail became town gossip for weeks.
She did not care.
Reverend Shaw stood before them.
He looked nervous.
Probably because half the town expected violence and the other half hoped for it.
“Shall we begin?”
Abigail looked toward Bell.
Then at Caleb.
“Yes.”
The vows were simple.
Caleb spoke first.
“I, Caleb Mercer, take Abigail Turner…”
His voice did not shake.
Until he reached:
“…to honor you in truth.”
Then something happened.
Small.
Barely noticeable.
His throat tightened.
Abigail noticed.
Nobody else mattered.
Her turn came.
“I, Abigail Turner…”
She stopped.
The church became painfully quiet.
Someone shifted in a pew.
Bell leaned slightly forward.
Caleb did not move.
He did not rescue her.
Did not whisper.
Waited.
Abigail looked at him.
Fire-scarred face.
Dark eyes.
A man carrying rumors he had never managed to outrun.
She understood that feeling.
She continued.
“…take Caleb Mercer…”
A woman near the back snickered.
Abigail’s voice became stronger.
“…to stand beside you in truth, whether truth makes people comfortable or not.”
Reverend Shaw blinked.
That was not in the ceremony.
Caleb smiled.
“Sounds fair.”
A few people laughed.
Different laughter.
Reverend Shaw continued.
When the final words came, Caleb did not kiss Abigail immediately.
He leaned closer.
“May I?”
Half the church heard.
Abigail felt heat rise to her face.
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Gentle.
Brief.
Enough.
Somebody on the back row muttered:
“Mercer’s braver than I thought.”
Caleb started to turn.