Looking for Miracles (21 page)

Lori leaned against the cool wall of the church, trying not to collapse in giggles. “No, Ty. You both really have to be ring bearers. Not bears. I know that you and Dogg are perfectly good at growling. But we don’t need anybody to growl. We need you to carry the pillow with the rings on it.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “If you say so. I still think the other way sounds like more fun.”

“I’m sure it does.” Mike was going to love this one. She could hardly wait to tell him in a few moments—after the ceremony, when his laughter wouldn’t confuse everyone in the church.

Down the red-carpeted aisle of the church, what looked like miles away, she could see him standing there, waiting for her. The organ was playing and Mike was just a little bit fidgety. Her man looked like he wanted to run one finger inside the collar of that white tuxedo shirt which fit so much tighter than the fire-and-rescue uniform he wore most days now.

She liked that uniform. If it had been up to her, she could have seen him married in it. But when she’d brought it up, he had told her he’d only agree if she wore one of the pantsuits she usually wore in her new management job with Martin Properties.

Lori declined the offer. She wanted a nice dress for her wedding. The soft pale pink she’d chosen
felt good under her fingers as she touched the skirt. Dogg, standing next to Tyler, whined softly. “I know, you practiced this part and you know what to do. Time to go do it, both of you,” she said, giving the big head a pat and sending him down the aisle with Tyler holding the totally unnecessary leash. Mike had insisted on Tyler being a ring bearer, and Lori had insisted on the big German shepherd. The two of them had done so much to bring the adults together. How could she deny either of them a place in this ceremony?

They made it down the aisle smoothly, and Tyler turned around briefly, giving her a “thumbs-up” sign, which made most of the churchgoers laugh.

“Okay, if they made it, that means it’s your turn,” Lori said to Carrie, who shone in her simple blue sheath.

“Let’s just hope I make it down there that well, considering this is probably the first time I’ve worn heels since the senior prom,” Carrie muttered.

“Remember, Philippians 4…”

“I know. I know. I can do anything through Christ who gives me strength. And falling on my face in front of a couple hundred people wouldn’t do much for me, so I guess I can handle this.” Carrie sighed and adjusted her flowers. She turned and took off down the aisle, with Lori praying for her.

That distracted her enough that she wasn’t worried about her own trip. It wasn’t the trip, exactly, that she was worried about anyway. Everybody here was a friend or relative somehow. She knew that in the front pew Carl’s gorgeous wife, Grace, sat smiling, waiting for her, bouncing a baby on each knee. Daniel and Mikayla were good buddies for each other, and Kayla didn’t fuss at all today when Lori had handed her off to “Aunt Grace.”

If she had, one of Carl and Grace’s two older kids would have made her smile anyway. Lori couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had felt this surrounded by love and family.

“Okay, let’s go,” Hank whispered in her ear. “And I do appreciate the chance to do this. This way I’ll be less nervous next month when the tables are turned and it’s me up there, watching Mike walk his mother down the aisle.”

“You’ll have practice,” Lori agreed. Hank looked fine in his tux, and she took his arm for the walk down the aisle. It only seemed to take a moment before she was there with Mike, and Hank was handing her off to this wonderful man.

“We made it,” Mike said softly as the minister began the words of the service. “No falls, no distractions, no crying babies. More than a little miracle. A huge one.”

“You can find them every time if you look.
Thanks for being mine,” Lori said. His eyes held all the miracles she would need for a lifetime, and they promised his love for just as long. That was the best miracle of all.

ISBN: 978-1-4603-1156-1

LOOKING FOR MIRACLES

Copyright © 2000 by Lynn M. Bulock

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