The Accidental Bride

by Christina Skye

She forced a big smile for Mamie’s sake. “It all sounds wonderful. Sorry that I overslept. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Jonathan frowned. “That’s odd. Walker said the same thing. He looked pale and stressed this morning.”

  “He didn’t tell me anything,” Mamie said sharply. “Is he okay, Jonathan?”

  “I guess I woke him up too early. I went by around six.”

  “I should go see him,” Jilly said quickly.

  “No need. Besides, it’s your wedding day. It’s bad luck for the groom and the bride to see each other before the ceremony, remember?” Jonathan cast a telling glance at Mamie, making a little gesture behind her back as if to warn Jilly away from that plan.

  “Oh. Right. Bad luck.” Jilly wandered over to the couch. “Did he say what was wrong, Jonathan?”

  “His shoulder, I think. He was rubbing it this morning. It gives him a lot of pain, and he won’t agree to surgery. He said he knows too many people who have problems after shoulder surgery, so he’s going to gut it out. Just like a marine.” Jonathan said the words with deep pride.

  “I’m going to mention something to my specialist in Laramie. I think it would be a good idea for Walker to get another opinion,” Mamie said quietly. “I’ll set up a consultation as soon as the events here are over. But I feel terrible about this. If he’s in pain, maybe we should delay the ceremony.”

  “No,” Jonathan said quickly. “I’m sure Walker wouldn’t want that. Besides, you’re going into the hospital in a few days, Grandma. They won’t want to get married while you’re gone.”

  Mamie looked undecided. “I would hate to miss the ceremony. But I want to do the right thing. If Walker isn’t feeling so good—”

  “We’ll send him off to rest for a while. No dancing on the tables tonight,” Jilly said with a crooked smile.

  “If you’re sure. I am so looking forward to the ceremony. People are driving in from all over the west. I even located some of Walker’s old marine platoon. One of them should be at the airport shortly. Several others are driving in from Arizona and California.”

  Jilly felt a stab of apprehension. This might not be a good thing to spring on Walker. She glanced at Jonathan, who had a similar expression of uneasiness. “Does Walker know?”

  “I don’t think he has seen his friends for months, not since he came to Lost Creek. I wanted to surprise him. If he doesn’t like it, he can take it up with me.”

  There was no mistaking the determination in Mamie’s voice. Since it was too late to change anything, there was no point in arguing.

  Jilly turned around as she heard another knock at the front door.

  “Room service. Eggs, bacon, two kinds of pastry and Lost Creek’s best oatmeal.” Red’s voice drifted through the door. “Coffee, too.”

  Jilly would have killed for the coffee, but after cheating with that first cappuccino at Jonathan’s coffee shop, she was determined to stay true to her promise. She would make do with tea.

  “Jonathan, why don’t you go check on Walker? I want to be sure he’s okay.”

  “Will do.” He gave a little two-finger wave and opened the door. Red was waiting next to a tall woman rolling a small suitcase behind her.

  “Is this the bride’s room?” she asked. “The seamstress is right behind me with the dress, and we need to get started. We only have two hours.” The woman pulled her suitcase inside and studied Jilly thoughtfully. “I think you must be the bride.” She opened a complicated makeup bag. With one expert movement she spread a dozen gleaming brushes on the kitchen counter. “Now then,” she murmured. “Let’s see what we have to work with.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING.

  The groom got sick.

  The bride overslept. And the best man was a dog.

  Mamie radiated joy in pearls and a dress of sky-blue silk. Jonathan hovered, looking anxious but surprisingly debonair in a formal black suit. His parents had come all the way from Aspen, and Jonathan was taking his duties as host seriously.

  Jilly peeked out the door at the back of the chapel, watching more and more people cram the pews. Everything had happened so fast over the past week, and all she wanted was to have the ceremony over. She wasn’t used to wearing makeup, and she never fiddled with her hair, but Mamie’s friend had taken her job seriously. Jilly was stunned to see her image in the mirror, tall and serene, a vision of elegance in this exquisite gown with a wide satin sash. A single orchid gleamed in her upswept hair.

  She didn’t recognize herself. None of her friends would have known her.

  The last stragglers were seated. Standing at the back of the chapel, Jonathan made a discreet gesture to Mamie, who smiled as Walker came to stand at the front of the chapel. Winslow was right beside the groom, elegant in a new red bandanna.

  Everyone was here. Jilly took a deep breath as the organ music stopped. The achingly familiar strains of the Wedding March filled the chapel.

  Her hands trembled. She stared down the long aisle and took a deep breath. Her mind told her this was just a performance, but her heart argued differently.

  What if it had been a real ceremony?

  What if she and Walker were promising to spend the rest of their lives together?

  She closed her eyes. This was strictly an act, she reminded herself.

  At the end of the aisle she saw Walker, tall and drop-dead gorgeous in a severe black suit that Jilly suspected was the creation of a very expensive Italian designer, well loved by Olivia. The suit made him look different—sophisticated in a way that he had not looked before.

  “Are you ready?” Jonathan was at the door, smiling. He looked pale, but determined to carry out his role. Red was going to walk her down the aisle.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. Explain to me again why I agreed to this,” she murmured.

  Jonathan took her arm as row after row of delighted faces turned in their direction. “Take one look at Mamie’s face. That’s your answer. By the way, you look drop-dead gorgeous in that gown, Jilly. Seriously, I wouldn’t have recognized you under all that makeup and puffy hair.”

  “Gee, thanks. I think.”

  As they walked outside, Jilly focused to keep from falling in the strappy evening sandals the bridal expert had insisted she wear. Red waited at the last pew, a broad grin on his ruddy face. “Looking good, O’Hara,” he murmured, sliding his arm under hers, as protective as any father.

  And even more proud.

  Every face turned.

  Her tall groom, achingly handsome, smiled at her slowly from the altar.

  Then the music swelled, and she walked out into the packed church.

  * * *

  THE BRIDE AND GROOM offered their vows without a hitch.

  No one stood up to protest the joining of these two in holy matrimony. No one stood up to point an accusing finger and shout that this marriage was a hoax.

  Jilly’s nerves were a wreck.

  There was a hint of humor in Walker’s eyes as he slid a wedding ring onto Jilly’s finger. “Almost done,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful that I almost forgot my line. And it wasn’t exactly a long one.” His hand curved around hers and tightened. “I definitely do,” he said.

  Darkly handsome, tough and lean in that expensive suit, he looked like a character from a big-budget Hollywood action movie. He didn’t look like the Walker she’d known, wearing scuffed boots, jeans and an old sweater. There was something different about this man. Jilly couldn’t put her finger on it.

  And then the beaming minister pronounced them man and wife. “You may kiss the bride,” he added loudly.

  Jilly’s breath caught as Walker carefully lifted her gossamer veil of knitted lace. It was light as an angel’s wing and just as beautiful. Walker seemed conscious of its delicacy, smoothing it back over her face and onto her shoulders with that careful touch that Jilly knew so well.

  He stared down at her as if they were absolutely alone and not standing in front of
a church with more than two hundred people watching.

  “You take my breath away,” he murmured. And then he raised her face to his and kissed her, deeply and thoroughly, sliding his hands into hers. His finger traced her ring. When their lips met, Jilly almost forgot they weren’t alone. She definitely forgot to breathe.

  The thunder of the organ, booming through the chapel, brought her back down to reality.

  “Ten more minutes,” Walker said quietly, taking a breath and sliding his arm under hers. “Jonathan’s got the car ready. We’ll have some cake, offer some toasts. One dance, and then it will be done. You feel okay?”

  Jilly nodded, hit by emotion.

  Walker’s hand opened under hers. “Good. Remember, you’ve made an old, frail woman very happy today. Now shall we go and meet most of the town of Lost Creek, Mrs. Hale?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  MRS. HALE.

  For some strange reason Jilly kept remembering the final scene of the recent cinema version of Pride and Prejudice. It was the scene where Elizabeth Bennett told her new husband that he could only call her Mrs. Darcy when he was completely and incandescently happy.

  Jilly wasn’t much for movies, but that scene had knocked her socks off.

  Now, looking up at Walker, she couldn’t help herself from sliding a hand gently along his cheek. “Mrs. Hale,” she murmured. “It has a nice ring.”

  She wondered what it would take to make Walker incandescently happy. She also wondered when it had become so important to do just that.

  Unable to speak, she nodded at him, glad for the strength of his arm as unfamiliar emotions welled up. Around her she saw smiling faces. Mamie. Jonathan. Red and all the kitchen staff, along with at least twenty of the knitters from the retreat. Jilly thought maybe this was what family felt like, though she had no way to know. But maybe this unconditional support and acceptance was the very best part of being a family.

  She glanced up at Walker, sensing something different about him. For a man who confessed that he didn’t have a single suit in his cabin, he looked surprisingly comfortable in his beautifully tailored black jacket. When they passed one of the back pews, Jilly saw four very tall, very tanned men grinning at Walker. The closest man reached in his pocket, held up a satin garter and then tossed it to Walker, who smiled wryly as he caught it.

  “Friends of yours?” Jilly murmured.

  “Yeah, we spent some time together in the mud and dust over in Afghanistan. They’re dumb as wood planks, but good men in a firefight. Mamie must have tracked them down. Hell, that woman can do anything.”

  Jilly’s fingers moved along his. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? Jonathan was afraid it might.”

  Walker seemed to consider his answer for a long time. “No. I thought it might. But today I’m in a surprisingly good mood.” He looked down at Jilly. “Just fantasizing about a honeymoon, Mrs. Hale.”

  They kept walking through the crowded church, smiling and waving, nodding to all the people who seemed so proud to have their native hero married.

  Suddenly Walker’s eyes narrowed. Though no one else would have noticed, Jilly could read him now. She saw the tightening of his mouth, the stiffness that moved into his shoulders.

  She glanced down the aisle and saw two children, three elderly men and four women. There was nothing to make him look upset.

  “Walker, is something wrong?” she whispered.

  A muscle worked at his jaw. Then he looked away, straight down the aisle to the back door of the church. “Everything’s fine, honey. Let’s go get some cake and make some toasts.”

  * * *

  THEY WERE INSTANTLY besieged by people who offered good wishes and noisy congratulations. Jilly kept a watchful eye on Walker, remembering what Jonathan had said. He didn’t seem to be in pain, but she noticed that he rubbed his shoulder once or twice. She watched to see if he glanced back at the row of people they had just passed, but he didn’t.

  Several of her friends from the knitting retreat closed in, admiring the intricately knitted veil. Jilly was caught up in their enthusiasm and descriptions of the interesting classes she had missed. How her friends would have gloated to learn that she actually regretted missing an afternoon of knitting.

  When she turned around, Walker was gone. Probably he’d gone to talk to his marine friends, she thought. Then Mamie came to introduce the mayor of Lost Creek, along with the chief of police. There were toasts and congratulations and excited questions about the supposed honeymoon.

  Jilly finally managed to escape. Where had Walker gone? She walked through the small meeting rooms, peeking into the offices that lined the chapel. Everyone seemed to be upstairs, where the wedding reception was in full swing. She could hear strains of a local band warming up, but down here everything seemed deserted.

  Down the hall she saw a movement behind a partially opened door. Walking closer, Jilly heard the snap of muffled voices.

  Angry voices.

  One of those voices was definitely Walker’s. The other voice belonged to a woman who spoke fast and precisely with a definite New England accent.

  Jilly stopped outside the door, wondering who the woman was and why they were arguing. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, but if this affected Walker, she meant to stay close.

  The woman paced angrily, and her voice drifted through the partially opened door. “Of course I saw the paperwork. It’s my job to watch anything that affects the family. I couldn’t believe you would actually consider getting married and not telling us. But you insist that this was all just an act.” She laughed coldly. “Maybe for you it’s an act, Walker, but no woman in her right mind would walk away from what you have to offer. Does she know that you’re worth millions? Does she know about the estate in the Berkshires and the family homes in Provence? Does she know about the legacy that Grandfather left you? And the place in Bermuda?”

  Jilly put her hand to her chest, struggling to understand what she had just heard. Millions? Homes scattered around the world? Who was this angry, impatient woman and what was she talking about?

  Walker’s answers were muffled.

  The woman plunged right on, cutting him off. “You think she doesn’t know? I’m always amazed at how naive men can be when it comes to a beautiful face and great legs. And she is stunning. I assume she has to be intelligent, too, if she managed to fool you. You’re a superior catch for a regional chef whose restaurant and cooking career seem to be on the rocks. Yes, of course I checked her out. You thought I wouldn’t?” She spat out questions like gunfire. “Did you do a background check on her? Did you get her to sign a prenuptial agreement? Because performance or not, your wedding was legally binding. I checked that, too. This O’Hara woman is entitled to half of everything you own now, Walker. But I’ll be damned if a conniving little fortune hunter steals money out from under our noses. What were you thinking? Before you agreed to this ridiculous plan, why didn’t you call me? I could have drafted language to protect our family,” she said brusquely.

  Jilly leaned against the wall, her heart pounding. Dimly she heard Walker cross the room.

  His voice rose, colder than Jilly had ever heard it. “Damn it, Darrah, you’ve got this wrong. Jilly isn’t after my money. She doesn’t know or care.”

  “That’s what they all say. Were you always this naive, Walker, or did it begin when you came back from Afghanistan?” The woman’s heels clicked as she continued to pace angrily. “No, don’t bother to answer that. You’re intelligent enough when you choose to use your brain. So something else is going on here. Maybe this is your way of getting back at the rest of the family. Haven’t you already done enough? After all, you’ve turned your back on all of us. Mother can barely stand to have anyone mention your name, and Father was crushed the day you left. He won’t talk about it. But when you left, you broke his heart, too.”

  “It wasn’t my choice,” Walker said flatly. “He gave me no choice when I disagreed about my future. I won’t go into politics, Darrah. I won�
��t use what happened in Afghanistan to further a political career. Not mine or his. He couldn’t accept that. So I left.”

  Father. Mother. This woman was Walker’s sister, Jilly realized. A whole new world began to swim into view, along with a part of Walker that Jilly had never glimpsed. Blinking, she pressed one hand against the wall. She thought that she had known him, but the Walker she knew was as much an illusion as the ceremony that had just taken place.

  Why hadn’t he told her about himself? Why hadn’t he given her any hint that his isolated life on the mountain was only part of who he was?

  The woman tossed her expensive red handbag down on the table and crossed her arms. “There’s one other thing you might as well know. Father is dying. He refused to have anyone contact you. He made us swear not to, but I was going to come and find you if you didn’t answer my calls. Then I heard about this fiasco. You need to go home, Walker. He doesn’t have much more time. The cancer is spreading, and the doctors think he may have less than a year.” The woman’s voice broke. Jilly saw Walker cross the room slowly and pull her against his chest when she began to cry.

  “Darrah, I’m sorry. I didn’t have a clue.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” the woman said in a broken, angry voice. “You didn’t answer our emails. You wouldn’t accept our calls with more than a few terse sentences. How in the hell were we supposed to let you know, by carrier pigeon?”

  Father.

  His father was dying. And in a sudden sweep of understanding, Jilly sank back against the wall and closed her eyes.

  His father was Frederick Harrison Hale, she realized suddenly. He was the scion of the Hale family, whose roots were as old as the country itself. Frederick Harrison Hale also happened to be the senior senator from New Hampshire. Jilly hadn’t made the connection before because Walker seemed to have no link to that world of northeastern privilege and wealth.

  How wrong she had been.

  The knowledge left her shaken and empty, sick with a sense of betrayal. Jilly realized why he hadn’t told her the truth. It was perfectly clear now. An insignificant nobody like her would never fit into a family like his.