Welsh Wildfire Read online

“Josiah…”

  Josh spun around, his jaw dropping. His jacket fell to the floor. “Dad…What are you? How?”

  His father strode across the room and hugged him. “Secret flying visit—well as much as possible. We’re expected in London tomorrow but came a day early. Did you really think Mom and I would miss your big day?”

  Josh hugged him back. “I’m glad you’re here. We both really wanted you to be, but we weren’t sure how to arrange it.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t believe it. We’d organized a video link and live stream to the White House…”

  Dad grinned. “I think the staff are planning on watching. This place sure is pretty covered in snow.”

  “Well, it is almost Christmas.”

  “Yes, we brought presents. And we had to be here for your first sermon as pastor. Not to mention widening the family the way you are planning on doing. At least we get to meet her first, even if you won’t be introducing us.” He paused. “Most people pick a separate day, you know.”

  Josh nodded. “I know, but this is what we want.”

  The door opened, and one of the Secret Service agents stood there. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but the elders need to see Pastor Wilson.”

  Dad nodded. “I’m coming, Will. OK, Josh, I’ll get out of here and let you and your elders pray. We’re proud of you, son. I’ll be sitting with Mom, Matt, and Laurel.”

  Ten minutes later, Josh climbed into the pulpit. He glanced around the small chapel, which was packed. There was no sign of Jess or her dad or sister, although her brother and mother came in and sat at the front on the left-hand side. His parents sat on the right-hand side, the black-suited agents dotted around the building, and no doubt out on the streets, as well as on roof tops of neighboring buildings.

  He sat and prayed silently. Once again he was conscious of God’s presence and an overwhelming sense of peace, love, and knowledge that he was in the right place.

  Then he stood and began the service, first by reading Psalm 24, and then leading the singing of that psalm to his favorite setting to the tune of Trumpet Voluntary. Towards the end of the hymn, Jess arrived, looking amazing in the plain, but form-fitting white dress the two of them had chosen. She had a simple flower in her hair and beamed at him. He realized she’d intentionally arrived late so no one would notice. He preached on Psalm 24, more aware than he had been of God guiding his words. This was what preaching should be, he realized. Less of him and more of Him.

  “We’ve now come to our final hymn. After we’ve sung, could you all take your seats please, before Pastor Bryn closes in prayer?”

  The hymn he and Jess had chosen was one they both loved.

  “When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.”

  During the hymn he left the pulpit and went to stand with his parents. Mom slid a hand onto his arm and squeezed it tightly. He leaned around her and glanced at Matt. Did you bring the rings? He signed.

  Matt grinned. No, I left them at home…of course I have them.

  The hymn finished and the congregation sat. Pastor Bryn stood and looked over them. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to be back in this pulpit so soon. Six months ago, Pastor Josiah Wilson arrived in our small town. He was running away, something he freely admits. Running from just about everything. But he found more than he bargained for when he got here. Not only did he find a new job as pastor, one which he took up only yesterday, but today he starts another job—as a husband. Josiah, will you join me?”

  Josh and Matt got up and stood at the front of the church.

  “I tried telling him this wasn’t the way to do this, but he and Jess would not be dissuaded. They wanted a quiet wedding at the end of a morning service with no fanfare or fuss, or a second sermon. And we’d like to extend a warm welcome to all the members of Josh’s family who’ve made it over here from the US, including the President and the First Lady.”

  Josh turned and shot a grin at Dad. He glanced to the back of the church where Jess stood with her father. “Ready?” he mouthed.

  She nodded, a huge grin on her face. She gripped her father’s arm tightly, a bunch of wild flowers in her other hand. As the organ began playing, Morgana, Jess’s sister, began to walk up the aisle.

  It seemed an eternity before Jess and her father began a slow walk towards him.

  His heart pounded as she reached him and took his hand. His father had his cell phone in his hand, snapping pictures. Mom had tears running down her face. Then, all that mattered was the woman next to him, as they exchanged vows.

  As Pastor Bryn pronounced them man and wife, Josh pulled Jess into his arms and kissed her soundly.

  “I’ve wanted to do that ever since you walked in,” he whispered. “I love you, Mrs. Wilson.”

  “I love you too, Pastor Wilson,” she whispered back.

  “And there is someone you need to meet. I hadn’t planned on them coming, but…”

  “I told you your Dad would sneak in at some point to visit. Good at sneaking, just like his son.”

  Josh gripped her hand tightly and took her over to his parents as the congregation were still applauding. “Cariad, these are my parents, Andrew and Chelsea Wilson. Mom, Dad, this is my wife, Jess.”

  “Mr. President,” Jess said. “Should I curtsey or something?”

  Dad chuckled. “Mrs. Wilson. Curtseying? There’s really no need, although it might give them something to talk about.” He hugged her. “Thank you.”

  “What for?”

  “Finding what was lost.”

  “I think God did that.” Jess turned to his mother to be hugged again.

  Dad looked at Josh. “Go and have your photos taken. Dr. and Mrs. Thomas have invited us for lunch, so we can meet properly in private and take lots more pictures without giving the Secret Service a headache.”

  Josh laughed. “You mean a bigger one than you doing a secret visit to Wales?”

  Dad grinned. “I learned from the best. Like your mother always says, like son like father.”

  Josh took Jess’s hand and led her from the chapel outside into the crisp Welsh air as the bells rang across the valley. He was finally home.

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