Something Borrowed
Page 25
She bustled down the porch stairs and before she reached her car, turned and called out, “I’ll expect an invitation to the wedding.”
The thought of a wedding—of her wedding—should terrify Mattie. She should feel claustrophobic and ready to run.
Instead, she felt a sense of rightness.
Here.
All those years of looking. Of searching. Trying city after city, job after job. And right here—with this man—was where she’d always belonged. Grateful she’d been so lucky—having two families who loved her. And as she stepped into Finn’s open arms, she truly felt as special as her parents always claimed she was.
“Eww,” came a drawn-out noise from Mickey at the dining room window. “That’s gross. Don’t kiss her, Uncle Finn. Ugh.”
“You two keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll take care of the rug rats,” Zoe hollered. The window slammed shut, and Mattie turned to Finn. “So, where were we?”
“About to pledge our undying love to one another,” he said.
“I don’t think so. Oh, I’m sure we feel it, but I don’t think we’re the type of people to go all mushy and use terms like undying love. Now, Sophie and Colton might use words like that.”
“We’re definitely, exactly, that type of people, as well,” he assured her. “And I plan on telling you I love you every day for the rest of my life. Listen, when I started that lawsuit, it was for all the wrong reasons.”
She reached up and touched his cheek. “You started it because you loved the kids.”
“I did...I do. But I have to tell you it was something else besides that. I felt slighted by my sister. By leaving you the kids, she was saying that I wasn’t good enough. That I was inadequate.
“And I knew that I could afford more than you could. That sounds so awful to say. Though I did think what mattered most was being able to afford the best for the kids, it didn’t take me long to realize that Bridget was right, you were the best choice. Mattie, when you love, you love wholeheartedly. I’ve never met anyone like you. Anyone who would throw their own wants and life aside in order to help a friend. And I only hope that being with you helps that to rub off on me. I’m working to find more time—”
“I was wrong when I said that was the reason I was better for the kids,” she interrupted. “That I could give them time and you couldn’t. Don’t get me wrong, time matters. But maybe it’s not the quantity of time, but the quality of time with the kids that’s important.” She knew she wasn’t explaining it well. “You’re here. Every weekend. You threw everything else aside when Abbey was sick and we needed you. Your job is important, and if a surgery interrupts a party, or a game...it doesn’t take away from the kids realizing that you wanted to be there. That they’re your center, but sometimes things do happen.” She shrugged. “I think that knowing they matter, that they’re a priority, will take the sting out of you sometimes needing to put a patient’s welfare first.”
“I think you said that pretty well. And I do love you, Mathilda Keith. Don’t ever leave me. If you start to feel the urge to go waltzing, Mathilda, tell me. I’ll waltz with you.”
“I think my waltzing days are done. I’ve found where I belong.” A peace, a sense of certainty settled over her. She thought of Colton’s cowboy hat. “This is my Silver Shoe moment,” she said for Finn’s benefit, feeling he’d understand that analogy better than a cowboy hat.
“Huh?”
“I’ve tapped my heels three times, and here I am...in your arms. Like the Wizard of Oz, I’m home.”
“We’re both home,” Finn agreed. “But I thought it was ruby slippers?”
“That’s the movie, I’m talking in the book. And it was silver there. And it’s definitely a silver slipper moment for Dorothy and me.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever thought of the Oz books as love stories, but now...” He hugged her. “I’m home, too,” he proclaimed at the exact moment a horrendous shriek came from inside the house.
Mattie looked up and grinned at him. “I never said it was a quiet home.”
Arm in arm and laughing, they turned and raced each other home.
EPILOGUE
THE NEXT DAY AT CHURCH, Finn sat in the family’s pew holding Abbey on his lap, Mickey on his right, Mattie on his left, and Zoe next to her. Mattie’s parents and brothers sat in the pew in front of them. Finn realized he was truly one of them. Somehow, in the midst of the worst kind of loss, lawsuits and wedding plans, they’d become a family. Not just Mattie, the kids and him—her family had become his, too.
He knew that he’d be having dinner at the Keiths’ house on Sundays for years to come. And that he’d probably spend most holidays with them, as well.
He knew that when he and Mattie got married, they’d do it surrounded by friends, by family, by Valley Ridge.
That knowledge warmed him.
“See you at Colton’s,” Mattie’s mother called out after the service.
They stopped to get the dog, and then took the short drive to the farm. The car crunched down the long gravel driveway, and Abbey gave a squeal of excitement. “You can’t go to Sophie’s Field, Aunt Mattie. You gotta be surprised, too.”
As she looked at Abbey, she promised, “I won’t.”
“’Cause you’re gonna be sooo surprised,” Abbey rhapsodized.
“Shh, Ab. You’re going to give it away,” Zoe warned.
Finn parked the car and the kids ran for the house. It was one of those early spring days that Finn remembered from being a kid. Everything smelled of newness. Of growth. Of potential.
Or maybe it was the fact that he was in love that was coloring his view, but either way he reveled in it.
He and Mattie had decided to play it cool until after Sophie and Colton’s wedding next month. They didn’t want their deepening relationship to take anything away from Sophie and Colton’s special day. But Finn was surprised that no one could see it. He felt as if his love for Mattie, and the family they were building, radiated off him in a totally all-encompassing way.
Gathered at his best friend’s farm, surrounded by friends and family, Finn wondered how he’d stayed away from Valley Ridge for so long.
He scanned the yard. Lily and Sebastian were near the barn having heated words, probably about Hank. He was going to have to say something to Sebastian, no matter what Lily said. Sebastian might need a friend more than a doctor’s opinion, but he was going to get both.
Sophie and Colton were on the porch, and Colton was talking very seriously to Mattie’s brother, Rich. He slapped Rich’s back, then cleared his throat. “Pardon me, everyone. We asked you all here to make an announcement. I’ve taken on a partner for the wine shop. Rich here is going to run the business side of things. Being open only a couple days a week won’t allow the winery to live up to its full potential, and if I want to keep farming—and I do—I can’t give the winery the time it needs, so Rich here is buying in and he’s going to run it.”
“What about the coffee shop?” Mattie’s mother asked.
Rich grinned and gestured at Mattie. “I’ve been thinking about taking on a partner for that. Someone who will run that while I take on the new challenge of building the winery into one of the premiere spots in the region.”
Colton and Rich resumed talking about their plans, and Finn leaned down to Mattie and asked, “He wants you to buy in?”
She grinned. “He’s mentioned it, but I never said yes. I thought I’d be in Buffalo, but now that I’m not...” She seemed to be absorbing the possibility of being part owner of the coffee shop. Finn could see how much she wanted it. “I have the money if you—”
Mattie’s smile evaporated and was replaced by annoyance flashing in her eyes. “Stop right there, Finn Wallace. I may...” She leaned forward, her words intended only for his ears. “I may love you, and I may want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I’m still planning on standing on my own two feet. And since I’m no longer being sued—”
“No,” she teased. “And since I’m not, then I don’t have to dip into my nest egg to pay the lawyer, and I have enough to buy in all by myself. Not an entire half, but maybe Rich and I can draw up some papers about my easing my way into a partnership. You’ve got partners. You can help me.”
“So I can help a little?” he asked.
“You can always provide moral support and advice...”
“And love,” he supplied.
“That, too.”
“You’ll always have that,” he told her. He’d give Mattie as much support as she needed—as she’d allow.
“Aunt Mattie, Bear don’t like saddles,” Abbey called.
Screams from the kids could be heard, and Bear bolted out of the barn, dragging a blanket that was strapped to his back. He charged around the area like an enraged bull.
The kids screamed even louder. Mattie gave Finn a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered, “I love you,” as she charged after Bear with the rest of the adults. It was the dog that needed saving.
Finn eventually caught up with Mattie, who had managed to catch up with Bear. In fact, she’d ended up in the dirt next to the dog.
She glanced at Finn, straw sticking out of her blond hair and a smile on her face, and he melted.
They had a lot of logistics to work out, but he knew they’d do it because here was where they both belonged.
In Valley Ridge.
A family.
~~~
Dear Reader,
Thank you for picking up Something Borrowed, the fifth book in my Hometown Hearts Romance series and the first of the Hometown Wedding Trilogy. I hope you enjoyed the story. If you did, please leave a review at your favorite online book store. It’s the best way to help new readers discover my books. And watch for the sixth book, Something Blue. There’s an upcoming wedding in Valley Ridge…come join in the festivities! I’ve included the first chapter of Something Blue: Hometown Hearts Wedding here, so keep on reading.
Holly Jacobs
Hometown Hearts
1. Crib Notes
2. A Special Kind of Different
3. Homecoming
4. Suddenly a Father
A Hometown Hearts Wedding
5. Something Borrowed
6. Something Blue
7. Something Perfect
8. A Hometown Christmas
Something Blue: A Hometown Hearts Wedding—Excerpt
Copyright Holly Jacobs
CHAPTER ONE
SEBASTIAN BENNINGTON was home.
He waited for a wave of nostalgic happiness to sweep over him as he turned off I-90 and headed toward his hometown—toward Valley Ridge, New York.
The wave never came.
No warm glow telling him that all was right in the world again because he was here. No feeling that he should never have left. No feeling that it was good that he was coming back.
No feeling at all. Nothing. Nada.
That pretty much summed up his emotions since he’d received his separation orders from the marines. Hearing that he was unfit for service hurt, but after that, it was as if everything froze and became a blank grayness.
He reached over and turned up the volume of the car’s stereo, thinking maybe the music would inspire some feeling. “This is 93.9, The Wolf,” a female DJ’s voice announced. Sebastian flinched when his left hand tried to grip the wheel, as Lady Antebellum’s plaintive song soon filled the car. Sebastian had always loved country music, and this song seemed nice enough, but it was new and evoked no particular emotion or memory.
Gray.
Sebastian had planned on driving immediately to his grandfather’s diner once he arrived in town. He’d talked to Hank often on the phone, glossing over why he was delayed. He didn’t share anything about the surgeries, or much at all about the injury. He’d simply said that he hurt his hand and was having trouble getting leave. He’d explain the discharge in person.
But instead of taking Park Street to the Valley Ridge Diner, where his grandfather would be this time of day, Sebastian went north toward the lake. Without thinking about it, he found himself standing at the edge of a rocky cliff, looking out over Lake Erie.
He breathed deeply and took comfort in the expanse of gray-blue water below.
When they were young, Sebastian and his best friends, Finn and Colton, came here often. There was a small path that led to the spit of rocky beach sandwiched between the lake and the cliff wall. His grandfather had hollered when he’d found out the boys had gone down there, but Sebastian only grinned as Hank lectured him about the dangers of that stretch of shore. Back then, he’d thought he was invincible. Back then, he’d thought that there was nothing he couldn’t do if he tried. There was no cliff he couldn’t scale, no situation he couldn’t get out of.
Sebastian Bennington knew better than that now.
He knew that even if he wanted to climb down that cliff today, he probably couldn’t.
He flexed his damned-near-useless left hand and winced at the sharp stab of pain. April in Western New York was still chilly, especially at the lakeshore. However, he wasn’t wearing a jacket because he was particularly cold. He wore it because he was home and he’d be seeing his grandfather and friends soon. His jacket’s pocket was a great place to disguise how damaged his hand was.
You should be thankful you’re right-handed, a therapist had joked.
You should be thankful you’re alive, his doctor had informed him.
Maybe he should be thankful to be alive, to be right-handed, to be back in Valley Ridge, New York.
But thankfulness was an emotion he couldn’t manage.
Sebastian knew he should get back in his car and drive into town now. Instead, he continued to stand on the cliff’s edge. He didn’t ponder anything special. He didn’t think any great thoughts. He just stared at the lake, his thoughts and emotions as flat and monotone as the water.
“Sebastian Bennington?” a woman asked, pulling him from his indistinct mental foray.
Sebastian turned and saw a dark-haired woman he couldn’t place. He searched her features, waiting for the click of recognition, but still nothing. Valley Ridge was filled with friends and acquaintances. It was a small enough town that even if he didn’t know someone, they at least looked familiar. But the woman didn’t.
A stranger.
She had to be because she had the kind of look that a man would never forget. She had on some kind of flowy skirt, with a blousy top and big, chunky jewelry around her neck and wrists. And she had on dangling earrings that brushed her shoulders. But it was her hair that got him. Dark brown on the border of being black. It was long—way longer than most women wore their hair—and hanging down her back in soft waves that hinted at curls.
“Sebastian?” she repeated, staring at him with very blue eyes. Those eyes were even more memorable than her hair.
He realized he’d been staring and nodded. “Yes? Do we know each other?”
“No, not exactly, although I know you in a way I’ve known very few people.”
He must have looked puzzled because she laughed. The expression seemed at home on her face, as if that upturned curve of her lips and the crinkling of her eyes were their default positions.
“Sorry, how do you know me?”
She struck a pose similar to that statue his grandfather liked, The Thinker. Her hand was under her chin and she was serious for a split second, then smiled again, as if whatever thought she’d had was a pleasant one. “Well, I know that your grandfather served you brussels sprouts when you were young and you dropped them on the floor in hopes your dog would eat them for you. Problem was, Chance didn’t like brussels sprouts, either. Of course, I’ve had Hank’s brussels sprouts and there’s really nothing to recommend the vegetable the way he prepares them. I mean, he’s a good cook, but he’s never really had to perfect vegetables at the diner, has he?” S
he punctuated each item with more laughter and he was sure he was right—this was a woman who laughed a lot.
“Who are you?” Sebastian asked.
This didn’t invoke any laughter, but her smile lingered. The crinkling around her very blue eyes wasn’t quite as pronounced, though it was still there. Laugh lines. He’d never understood why they were called that until this minute. They weren’t a sign of aging, as he’d always imagined, at least, not on this woman. On her, they were a sign of a happy disposition.
He wished he could work his way up to feeling happy...to feeling something.
On the back of that thought came the awareness that if he mentioned those laugh lines, the woman wouldn’t thank him for it. Not that he would mention it. He might not know a lot about the female gender, but he was pretty sure most women didn’t want to hear they had lines of any type.
The woman extended her hand. There was a zing of awareness as they touched, and he realized it had been a long time since he’d been this attracted to a woman. And that little zing sent a ripple through the blandness he’d been living with for a long time.
“Sorry,” she said as she shook his hand. “I’m Lily. Lily Paul. Hank’s tenant and—”
He pulled his hand away, disregarding any attraction that he imagined he’d felt. He knew who this was, and he was absolutely not attracted to her. As a matter of fact, he felt an immediate surge of another emotion. Annoyance. Not that he’d thank her for that, either.
“You’re her,” he said.
“I am.” She didn’t seem to notice that he was less than thrilled to be meeting her, just as she didn’t seem to notice he wouldn’t appreciate a stranger calling him and reading him the riot act on how he treated his grandfather. Telling him he needed to get home. Telling him that Hank needed him.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
He knew he’d meet this Lily eventually, but he wouldn’t have guessed that she’d be the first person he’d see upon his return to Valley Ridge.
“We’re having Sophie’s shower at the Nieses’ cottage. I spotted you and figured I should come over and introduce myself.”