“And?”

He shrugged. “We may both have been fools to agree to this.”

“It all happened so fast,” Janine said in a weak voice. “One minute we agreed on the word cherish, and the next thing I remember, we were deciding we’d be good for each other.”

“Don’t forget the kissing part,” he added. “As I recall, that had quite a bit to do with this decision.”

“If you’re having second thoughts, I’d rather you said so now than after the ceremony.”

His eyes narrowed fleetingly before he shook his head. “No.”

“You’re sure?”

He answered her by leaning forward, slipping his hand behind her neck and kissing her soundly. Tenderly. When they broke apart, they were silent. Not talking, not wanting to.

Janine stared into his dark warm eyes and suddenly she could hardly breathe.

“This is going to be a real marriage,” he said forcefully.

She nodded. “I certainly hope so, Mr. Thomas.” And her voice was strong and clear.

* * *

Less than twenty-four hours later, Janine stood at Zach’s side, prepared to pledge her life to his. She’d never felt more uncertain—or, at the same time, more confident—of anything she’d ever done.

Zach seemed to grasp what she was feeling. His eyes held hers as she repeated the words that would bind them.

When she’d finished, Zach slid his arm around her waist and drew her close. The pastor smiled down on them, then looked to the fifty or so family friends who’d gathered on Anton’s lawn and said, “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Zachary Thomas.”

A burst of applause followed his words.

Before Janine fully realized what was happening, they were mingling with their guests. One minute she was standing in front of the pastor, trembling but unafraid, and the next she was a wife.

“Janine, Janine!” Pam rushed to her side before anyone else could. “You look so gorgeous,” she said softly, and bright tears shone in her eyes.

Janine hugged her young friend. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Pam gazed up at Zach and shook her head. “He sure is handsome.”

“I think so, too.”

Zach arched his brows, cocked his head toward her and murmured, “You never told me that.”

“There’s no need for you to be so smug.”

“My children,” Gramps said, rejoining them. He hugged Janine, and she saw that his eyes were as bright as Pam’s. “You’ve never been more beautiful. I swear you look more like my Anna every year.”

It was the highest compliment Gramps could have paid her. From the pictures Gramps kept of his wife, Janine knew her grandmother had been exceptionally beautiful.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek.

“I have something for you.” Pam thrust a neatly wrapped box into Janine’s hands. “I made them myself,” she announced proudly. “I think Zach will like them, too.”

“Oh, Pam, you shouldn’t have,” Janine murmured. Sitting on a cushioned folding chair, she peeled away the paper and lifted the lid. The moment she did, her breath jammed in her throat. Inside were the sheerest white baby-doll pajamas Janine had ever seen. Her smile faltered as she glanced up to see half a dozen people staring at her.