A Wedding to Remember in Charleston, South Carolina

by Annalisa Daughety

  © 2012 by Annalisa Daughety

  Print ISBN 978-1-61626-534-2

  eBook Editions:

  Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-60742-780-3

  Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-60742-781-0

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.

  Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Faceout Studio, www.faceoutstudio.com

  Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated with love to my grandmother, Ermyl McFadden Pearle. You taught me to roller skate when I was four and you’ve been teaching me things ever since. Thank you for answering endless questions about gardening and cooking, saving articles that you think I might want to read, and always having time to talk. Knowing that you are praying for me gives me the courage to face any situation. If there ever was a woman who embodied Proverbs 31, it is you. Thanks, Grandma, for being an example of the kind of godly woman I strive to be. I love you.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to all who helped me as I wrote A Wedding to Remember in Charleston. Freda Pearle Mixson and Carol Pearle Bates—thank you for your wonderful Southern hospitality and for answering my many questions about life in Charleston. I so enjoyed spending time with the two of you during my visit to South Carolina. Vicky Daughety, Sandy Gaskin, Jan Reynolds, and Lynda Sampson—thanks for reading along as I wrote and for your honest feedback. Megan Reynolds and Kelly Shifflett—thanks for checking on me frequently as I was faced with back-to-back deadlines. I am blessed to have such an amazing support group of people who encourage me and pray for me as I write. Thanks to the team at Barbour Publishing and to my agent, Sandra Bishop, for the support and encouragement.

  He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

  PSALM 147:3

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Author biography

  Chapter 1

  Summer Nelson blinked against the bright sunlight that filtered through oak trees older than time, their branches heavy with Spanish moss. She squinted at a tall figure in the distance, solemnly looking down at an ancient headstone. A figure she recognized, even though it had been at least fifteen years since she’d last seen him.

  Summer had grown up hearing tales of the many ghosts that inhabited Charleston. She’d scoffed at the idea of homes haunted by long-dead Confederate soldiers, and she’d certainly never given any thought to attending one of the Ghosts of Charleston walks that took place in the historic city almost every night.

  But on that random afternoon in late May, she encountered a ghost of her own. Except that Jefferson Boudreaux was the worst kind of ghost. The flesh-and-bone kind that served as a direct link to a past long forgotten. Or at least a past mostly forgotten, except for those sleepless nights of late when she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if she’d chosen the right path.

  Summer and Jefferson had been the “it” couple of their tightly knit circle since their days in cotillion. Everyone hadalways expected the two of them to marry and settle into a life of Charleston society. Jefferson would follow in his daddy’s footsteps and run for office, and she would host garden parties and raise their perfect children.

  Yes, that was the path everyone—particularly Summer’s parents—had expected her to take. And Summer herself had been on board with that plan—for the most part.

  Right up until the lazy July afternoon when she met Luke Nelson. Sweet Luke, who mowed the yard of her family’s enormous South of Broad home—the same home her great-great-granddaddy had somehow persuaded the Yankees to leave alone all those many years ago.

  She watched the man in the cemetery for another long moment, not daring to move a muscle. She’d grown so still and cold, she couldn’t tell where the stone bench ended and her body began. “Jefferson,” she finally whispered, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Maybe the man was a look-alike tourist who just happened to be standing at the Boudreaux family plot. Because the alternative wasn’t something she wanted to face.

  But as soon as the name escaped her lips, the tall man turned toward her, and his tanned face broke into a smile.

  And with a few long strides, Jefferson Boudreaux walked right back into her life.

  Luke Nelson chewed on the end of his pencil, a habit he’d had since his school days when yellow number 2 pencils were harbingers of standardized tests. Most of the kids feared takingtests, but Luke lived for those days. He’d always been a good test taker. Inevitably when the scores came back each year, his were the highest in the class. His teachers expected great things from him, but his daddy had sneered at Luke’s academic aspirations. “No son of mine is going to spend his days in some stuffy office like he’s better than the rest of us,” Daddy would say, usually with whiskey on his breath.

  Luke had never aspired to follow in his father’s footsteps, never been one of those little boys who idolized their dads. Roy Nelson had always been hardest on his oldest son. While Luke’s sister and baby brother might have been able to avoid Roy’s wrath, Luke hadn’t been so lucky.

  But the past was the past, and he certainly didn’t want to spend time dwelling on it now. He tossed the pencil onto the table and leaned back in his chair. Why was he having so much trouble with this song? The tune had been in his head for weeks, but getting the lyrics right was causing him all kinds of problems.

  He stood and paced the length of the living room, decorated with furniture that had been in Summer’s family for generations. When they’d first moved into the spacious South of Broad home after they’d gotten married, he’d been a nervous wreck. “What if I spill something?” he’d asked.

  Summer had just laughed. “This isn’t a museum. It’s our home.” She’d tipped her glass of sweet tea so a little dribbled onto t
he tiled kitchen floor. “See?”

  Sometimes it was hard for him to believe they’d been husband and wife for nearly seven years. And yet their anniversary was coming up in a few weeks. He had the perfect gift in mind,too. He might not be the world’s best husband, but he’d been able to make Summer happy. At least most of the time.

  The opening strains of a George Strait song pulled him from his walk down memory lane. He grabbed his phone from the table and punched the button. “Yeah?”

  “How do you feel about shooting some pool tonight?” Justin Sanders asked.

  Luke exhaled loudly. He didn’t want to let down his closest friend and the drummer in his band, but he’d already been out two nights this week and they were playing a gig on Friday evening. Summer hadn’t said anything about all his time away from home, but she’d sure given him the cold shoulder this morning. “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, man. Jimmy and Will have permission from their wives for a boys’ night out. Don’t leave us in a lurch.”

  He looked at the silver clock on the end table next to the couch. It was already after six. Summer must be working late again. Last night she hadn’t gotten home till nearly ten. So maybe she wouldn’t care if he made plans. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be at your place in half an hour.”

  “Summer Rutledge.” Jefferson Boudreaux grinned down at her. “I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s actually Summer Nelson now.” She shaded her eyes with her hand. “But I think you know that.”

  “Things can change.” He winked. “Mind if I sit down, Mrs. Nelson?” he asked, his green eyes twinkling.

  Summer regarded him for a long moment. “Sure.” For a second, she wondered how she looked. Had she aged a lot in the years since they’d seen each other? Just that morning she’d plucked out a gray hair. Granted, she’d looked hard to find it. But today had been the first time she ever wished she were blond instead of brunette, just so the gray hairs wouldn’t be as obvious when they really started sprouting.

  Jefferson sat down on the bench next to her. “I figured I’d run into you at some point, but the cemetery isn’t exactly what I expected.” He motioned around the secluded grounds.

  She didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s so peaceful. And you know how I’ve always loved the old cemeteries around here.” Most of the numerous churches in downtown Charleston had a cemetery on their property, some with graves that dated back to the 1600s.

  Jefferson gestured at the ancient headstone in front of them. “No one you know then?”

  Summer bit her bottom lip. She’d found this grave about six months ago and felt drawn to it. So much so that she’d begun to visit at least weekly, sometimes bringing flowers. “Nope.” She patted the edge of the stone bench. “I just like this spot because there’s a place to sit.”

  Jefferson was silent for a long moment. “So how are you? I guess it’s been…” He trailed off and glanced at her, his eyebrows raised in question.

  “Fifteen years,” she finished for him. “Graduation night.” She and Jefferson hadn’t exactly remained friends after she’d dumped him for Luke. The breakup had split their circle of friends in two. But on the night of their high school graduation,they’d all posed together for one last picture, mostly at the prompting of a group of overbearing mothers wielding cameras.

  He nodded. “That’s right.” Jefferson flashed her a gleaming smile. “I think Mom still has a framed picture of all of us from right after the ceremony.” He shook his head. “It took her a long time to accept the fact that you and I were no more.”

  Summer let out a breath. “Yeah. But I’m sure she’s over it by now.” She glanced at him. Time had certainly been kind to Jefferson. If anything, he was even better looking now than when they’d been eighteen. His shoulders were broader and encased in what looked like a very expensive suit. The hint of crinkles around his eyes when he smiled and a tiny bit of silver mixed in with his dark hair gave him a distinguished look. The difference in the way men and women aged was totally unfair.

  Jefferson chuckled. “Clearly you underestimate your power. Every girl I’ve ever introduced her to has tried and failed to live up to the memory of you.”

  Her face flamed. “Whatever.” She shifted uncomfortably on the stone bench.

  “I hear your business is doing well. Mitch keeps me posted on the latest with everyone here.”

  Summer’s younger brother, Mitch, had been one of Jefferson’s best friends. “I don’t see him very often.” She hated saying the words aloud. She and Mitch had been close once. But they’d drifted apart after she left home for college. These days they only saw one another on major holidays, and that was only because their grandmother insisted she show up. And since Gram had always been so good to her, Summer obliged.

  Jefferson nodded. “That’s what I hear.”

  Obviously her brother still had as big a mouth as ever. “This is my busiest season,” she said, as if that were the reason behind her behavior.

  “And how’s Luke?” Jefferson’s green eyes bored into hers.

  “He’s great.” The less said about Luke, the better. “We’re very happy.” She hoped her voice didn’t give her away. The last person on earth who needed to know that things in her life might be less than perfect was Jefferson. Not only would he probably take personal satisfaction in that knowledge, but he also wouldn’t think twice about sharing it with her family.

  His eyes searched her face. “I heard about Luke’s brother. I’m so sorry. I remember how close they were.”

  She nodded. “It’s been a trying year, but we’re making it.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He cast one more gaze at the headstone in front of their bench. “Wow. Sad story here, huh? Only a day old.” He shook his head and stood to trace his fingers over the cherub that sat on top of the stone.

  Summer rose and grabbed her bag from beneath the bench. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to be away from the cemetery and away from Jefferson. “It was nice to see you again. I hope you have a great visit.” She turned to go.

  “Oh, it’s not just a visit,” he said quietly.

  She turned slowly to look at him.

  “I’m back for good.”

  Chapter 2

  Ashley Watson sat on a park bench at the Battery, her face turned upward and warmed by the diminishing sun. When she first moved to Charleston, she called the spot White Point Gardens, like the guidebooks said. But now that she was a local, she knew to refer to it as the Battery. A seagull squawked from its perch on the wooden rail that ran the length of the promenade.

  Anytime she regretted packing up and moving hundreds of miles to Charleston, all she had to do was come to the Battery. A few minutes of watching the boats and breathing in the salty sea air, and Ashley knew she’d made the right decision. She’d always heard that the ocean had healing properties. Although after three years of coastal living, her heart was still bruised. Maybe not broken anymore but definitely not whole.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” a familiar voice called.

  Ashley looked up to see Summer leading her huge dog, Milo, down the sidewalk. Or maybe Milo was leading Summer. It was hard to tell. “Hey,” she said, rising from the bench. She bent down and scratched Milo behind the ears. “Is it possible that he’s even bigger than he was the last time I saw him? And that was only last week.”

  Summer chuckled. “That’s one reason we came out for a walk today. Poor Milo has paid the price of our crazy lives.” She knelt down and nuzzled the big chocolate Lab. “He’s become a bit lazy and has packed on some extra weight.”

  Ashley watched her friend adjust the harness around Milo’s big midsection. Summer and Luke had rescued Milo from the side of the road when he was a puppy. He’d become like their child. Summer even brought him to work sometimes. “Where are we headed?”

  Summer stood and looked out over the water. “I don’t care. Let’s see where the road takes us.”

  Ashley raised her eyebrows. Summer had never been one t
o see where the road took her. Everything she did was planned, usually down to the minute. Something was on her mind, and Ashley had a good idea of what it might be. “Sounds good.”

  They headed toward South Bay Street. It wasn’t even June, and already tourists were out in droves, most of them trying to soak up the remaining sunshine before they’d head to Hymen’s Seafood or Slightly North of Broad for dinner.

  “Thanks for all your work lately,” Summer said after they walked in silence for a few minutes. “I know I’ve dumped a lot on you, especially with these last couple of weddings.”

  Ashley smiled. “No problem.” She loved working with Summer as an event planner at Summer Weddings. She’d started out answering phones a little over a year ago, but as business had picked up, she’d taken on more responsibility. “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate over the past few months.” Ashley hadn’t complained about the added responsibilities, mainly because Summer was her friend. But it had been kind of aburden to carry most of the workload alone. In fact, the long hours she’d been keeping almost made her thankful she was single. There was no way her hectic schedule would allow for a meaningful relationship. Although having a date every now and then might be nice.

  “Still though, you’ve stepped in and kept things going when I could barely get out of bed.” Summer shook her head. “I want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

  “I appreciate that.” Ashley wondered if this was a good time to approach Summer about her idea of growing the business. Of course, part of the growth she hoped for included becoming a partner and not just an employee. But Summer seemed distracted today, plus she didn’t want the request to put a strain on their friendship.

  “Mind if we sit for a minute?” Summer motioned toward a bench.

  “You and Milo lead the way,” Ashley agreed.

  They sat in silence for a moment, watching people walk past. Finally, Summer cleared her throat. “Luke’s out with the guys again tonight.”

  So that’s what this was about. Luke. “Again, you say?” Ashley asked.