Chapter 10: The Harvest of the Hearth
They were married on a warm Saturday in October, on the grassy bluff overlooking the bay.
There were no velvet ropes. There were no thousand-dollar floral arrangements or paparazzi photographers.
The wedding altar was framed by two ancient loblolly pines hung with hand-carved wooden lanterns that Caleb had made in his shop.
One hundred and fifty neighbors—watermen, farmers, nurses, teachers, and apprentices—sat on hand-hewn pine benches beneath the clear autumn sky.
Allison wore a simple, flowing ivory linen gown adorned with wild lavender and salt-marsh asters.
Caleb stood beside her in a clean dark wool vest and linen shirt, his hand holding hers with a grip as strong and immovable as the bedrock beneath the marsh.
Evelyn sat in the front row, holding hands with Mei Chen, weeping tears of pure, unburdened maternal joy.
When the local minister pronounced the blessing, the crowd erupted into cheers that echoed across the sparkling cove as local watermen blew their boat horns from the harbor in celebration.
Long timber tables were assembled on the lawn, groaning beneath platters of roasted oysters, fresh crab cakes, warm sourdough bread, and homemade peach pies.
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They danced on the grass under the stars until midnight, celebrating a love that had no price tag, no secrets, and nothing left to prove.
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