A Wedding Story Read Online Free

underneath him, she might have believed him herself.
    “I...no, I was coming in...are you sure?” Clarity was returning to Father Larkin’s eyes with a quickness. His gaze darted from one of them to the other and Ruth Anne wasn’t having any luck control ing her flaming blush. “I know what I saw, young man,” he said firmly, raising himself up despite their protests. “I have not gotten to this age without fal ing down a few times, I’l have you know.
    You’re not pul ing the wool over anyone’s eyes here, Mr. Wichowski.”
    “Look at me, Father. Would I lie to you?”
    Ruth Anne chewed her lips hard as she could, trying not to laugh at the huge puppy dog eyes and pouty lips that no doubt saved Bobby from any fate his mother dreamed up. Father Larkin, on the other hand, appeared unaffected. “Without a doubt.”
    He final y gave Ruth Anne a longer look, probably registering the bedraggled condition of her dress. “Good Lord, child, what has he done to you?”
    “Me?” Bobby cried.
    “Wel , technical y, it is your fault,” Ruth Anne had to admit.

    “I thought we agreed this was your sister’s fault,”
    Bobby replied, not so much as missing a beat until Father Larkin tried to push Bobby out of the way so he could get to his feet. Then his eyes bugged and Ruth Anne felt herself being jolted backward as he instinctively tried to undo the clamping on his wrist by lining her back up with him.
    “What is going on with the two of you?” Father Larkin demanded, now sitting up and looking more like the stern disciplinarian they both grew up fearing.
    “We’d better let Bobby tel you,” Ruth Anne admitted. No one talked his way out of trouble smoother than Bobby.
    Except that was when he decided to break with tradition and tel the truth. Ruth Anne covered her eyes with her hands, trying to ignore the continued patting on her back.
    “So, what we need is someone to cut us free,”
    Bobby said, finishing his tale of woe and ridiculousness.
    “And staple me shut,” she added, stil ing in her palms.

    “More than that,” Father Larkin said, getting to his feet and dusting off his knees absently.
    Ruth Anne parted her fingers and peeked through. Something in his voice sounded a little too...empowered. When they were kids, everyone lived in terror of Father Larkin and his adherence to the letter of the law. He’d mel owed over the years, watching young terrors turn into God fearing adults, marrying and baptizing babies.
    At least, she’d thought he’d mel owed.
    She stared up from her place stil on her knees, feeling quite a bit like the eight-year-old Ruth Anne who kneeled in confession because she dreamt she’d kissed Bobby Wichowski and was sure she’d been possessed. He looked just as tal , just as righteous and just as ready to mete out a punishment she was going to hate.
    “I’d say what you two need before anything else is to get married.”

Chapter Seven
    Father Larkin stapled Ruth Anne’s dress to the sound of two people reciting a rosary. He cut away a large rectangle to back of her dress to the sound of a few desperate Our Fathers. He pul ed the hook out of Bobby’s wrist to the sound of Bobby getting the back of his head smacked.
    “I’ve had fishing hooks embedded worse than that, boy,” was the only sympathy he got.
    “Not over an artery, Father,” Bobby sighed, shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket and absently draping it over Ruth Anne’s shoulders. He squeezed them, too, once the heavy fabric was in place.
    She stared at the ground, disturbed by how natural it was to have him so close, so supportive.
    She grasped at the edges of the coat lapels and pul ed them close across her.

    “Truth is, I’d love to marry Rhubarb. She’s a great girl and I’ve been in love with her since she was three-years-old, but she’s got hopes and dreams. Goals. I’d just slow her down.”
    He what ? Since when ?
    “Didn’t look like you were slowing her down any when I came in, boy.”
    “I was