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Redeeming Liberty

By Diane/David Munson

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1


Dawn Ahern couldn’t have dreamed of a more picturesque afternoon for a May wedding. Lofty breezes played Cupid with her warm cheeks, ruffling her hair. Surely a master painter had dipped the Potomac River gold and crimson for the occasion. But neither the shimmering water nor gently rolling green hills meant anything to her.
Everyone was inside, but not the most important man. Dawn fought back fear something terrible had happened to him. She hurried on her silver pumps toward the glass doors of Grace Church, stopping to gaze down Lyon Street, expecting to see his car come roaring up any moment. Her emotions spiked—he was nowhere to be seen.
She shielded her eyes against the bright sun, straining to see beyond the corner. Fingering the white rose that adorned her long black hair, Dawn didn’t know what to do. Sounds of quiet music from inside the sanctuary drifted past. She must go in!
Dawn yanked open the door, and in spite of apprehension bubbling inside her, she glided into the narthex where the sweet smell of roses was overpowering. Red and violet light streamed through stained glass windows, showcasing the altar at the end of a carpeted aisle. Everything was beautiful, yet nothing was right. Where was Griff Topping?
Family and close friends jostled in narrow wooden pews, trading whispers, and Dawn caught a snippet: “The groom’s not here.” Then a powerful hand seized her shoulder. “You do look stunning.”
Her heart quickening, Dawn whirled to face Griff, the man she loved.
“Why are you so late?” she asked, no joy lifting her smile. Did he have second thoughts about being here?
“A bank robbery kept me up all night,” Griff grumbled, blowing out an uneven sigh. “I’m beat, but glad I made it. Where do you want me?”
He leaned over, planting a welcome kiss on her cheek. To quiet her beating heart, she playfully nudged him away.
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. That also goes for bridesmaids.”
The glass door behind them swished open. In waltzed the bride, holding up her snow-white gown. Dawn’s friend from the office, Stephanie Huddleston, seemed to float on air. Alert to her duty, Dawn bent down, adjusting the designer gown’s satin train.
When she straightened, Stephanie snatched her brother’s arm. CJ Huddleston lingered next to his sister, his furrowed brow a curious mix of worry and doubt. But his peculiar reaction didn’t surprise Dawn; Stephanie had confided at the bridal shower that CJ opposed her marrying Leonard, a man she’d dated for only two months.
Dawn snatched Griff’s hand, seeking to brighten the gloom surrounding the bridal party. “Stephanie, this is Griff, who I’ve told you so much about.”
A shadow darted across CJ’s face. As Griff stepped aside to make room for the bride, he banged his leg against a table. He grimaced, but managed to shake Stephanie’s hand. “It’s an honor to see Dawn’s friend get married.”
Stephanie’s eyes sparkled with delight, but her brother flashed Griff a defiant stare, sputtering, “Dawn mentioned you. We don’t ap- preciate FBI agents around here.”
Dawn swallowed a terse retort. The Commonwealth attorney for Elizabeth County seemed only too happy to show off his famous temper, a perfect match to his flaming copper hair. CJ also nurtured a consuming desire to occupy the Governor’s mansion—no secret to those in the know in northern Virginia.
CJ’s probing green eyes locked onto hers. Despising the heat of his gaze, Dawn lowered her eyes, elbowing Griff in the side.
“You should take your seat. Where’s Wally?”
“Tying his shoes in the hotel room when I left.” Griff intertwined her fingers in his, lowering his voice. “Wally’s started calling me Dad.” Dawn held his eyes, knowing this must be important to him. Griff had no children of his own. She longed to spend precious time alone with him, but with CJ looming, she revealed none of those dreams
simmering in her heart.
Instead, she said, “Since both his parents were killed in Sudan, I’m glad Wally has you.”
“I ran ahead to be alone with you. I wonder if later—” The pianist began playing Pachelbel’s Canon.
“I need to start down the aisle. We’ll talk later,” Dawn whispered, her fingers resting on Griff’s arm.
“Topping,” CJ said, clearing his throat, “do you mind getting out of the way?”
Griff stalked off, selecting the pew in the very last row. Dawn smoothed her nerves and stepped down the carpeted aisle in perfect timing to the music. She passed Griff, her heart reaching out to him. She beamed, hoping he’d treat her to a smile in return. When he did, her heart went wild.
Though his lips were partially hidden by his moustache, she knew the wide grin was meant for her. She made it the rest of the way down the aisle, walking carefully in her pointed high heels, until she found herself standing by a wooden altar carved to resemble a cross.
Dawn’s eyes traveled to Griff, but he failed to meet her gaze. Her spirits sank. She’d so looked forward to enjoying this special day with him; now he seemed mired in his own world, probably thinking about that case he’d spoken of. Would he ever leave work behind and spend carefree time with her? Not likely, she thought, eying the tips of her shoes.
When she’d transferred to the Federal Probation Office in Alex- andria, Virginia, she couldn’t wait to live closer not only to her son Brian, a cadet at Virginia Military Institute, but also to Griff. Only life hadn’t worked out according to her plan. She and Griff rarely saw each other because of his constant travels for the FBI.
The pastor’s wife, Laurie Nebo, struck triumphant chords on the piano, providing a melodious accompaniment to Stephanie’s march down the aisle. But then, Dawn watched, perplexed, as the bride stopped suddenly, halfway to the altar.
What was going on? Had CJ forbidden her to marry? Although Laurie kept playing Here Comes the Bride, the bride was not coming.

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