A July Bride

by Beth Wiseman

  ZONDERVAN

  A July Bride

  Copyright © 2014 by Beth Wiseman

  Requests for information should be addressed to:

  Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530

  ePub Edition © May 2014: ISBN 9780310339205

  Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Interior design: James A. Phinney

  To Daddy

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Discussion Questions

  An Excerpt from an August Bride

  One

  About the Author

  I’m honored to be included among the fabulous authors who all contributed to this collection—A year of Weddings. Who doesn’t love a wedding? And this was such a fun story to write.

  As always, God gets the glory for each and every story He gifts me to share. But it would be hard to stay focused without my wonderful family and friends, so another huge thank-you to all of you. Especially to my husband, Patrick, who has to live with me when I’m up against deadlines. Love you, dear.

  Special thanks to my editor on this project, Ami McConnell, and the entire team at HarperCollins Christian Fiction. Ami, you push me to be a better writer, and I don’t ever want to stop growing in this wonderful, challenging profession. So keep doing what you’re doing. I can take it, lol. I think you’re awesome.

  And I have a fabulous agent—Natasha Kern—who continues to teach me about the industry (which seems to be changing daily). Natasha, you provide me with spiritual insight that inspires and educates me. You also wear so many other hats—lawyer, physician, financial advisor, estate planner, reviewer, consultant . . . and the list goes on. Best of all, you are a trusted friend.

  Janet Murphy, you continue to rock! Four years into this amazing journey, and you did what you said you would—made yourself irreplaceable to me. Love you much.

  It’s an honor to dedicate this book to one of the finest men I’ve ever known, my father. A romantic at heart who was married to my mother for fifty-four years. Rest in peace, Daddy. I miss you every single day.

  Alyssa Pennington grasped the crescent bouquet of orchids with both hands, careful to hold the flowers slightly below her waist the way the florist had suggested. Her father looped his arm in hers, and when he whispered, “I love you, Daughter,” she brushed away a happy tear. She was sure Dad had never looked more handsome in his black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and the red rose boutonniere Alyssa had pinned to his lapel an hour ago. His dark hair, graying at the temples, was freshly cut, and the familiar aroma of his Old Spice aftershave calmed her jittery excitement. A little.

  Until recently, her father had been the number-one man in her life. But he’d happily stepped into second place when Brendan Myers proposed nine months ago. And now, on this July afternoon in La Grange, Texas, she would profess her love for Brendan in front of their families and friends.

  The scene was playing out as she’d imagined it for years, exactly as planned. All the attendants were in place, arrayed across the front of the church Alyssa had grown up in. Her friend Sherry stood beaming in the matron-of-honor dress they’d let out—twice—to accommodate her pregnancy. Little Raelyn and Joshua had performed their duties as flower girl and ring bearer perfectly. And there was Brendan in a white tuxedo with tails, his brown hair bronzed a tawny gold from his work at Lenny Wick’s ranch. Even at a distance, those deep brown eyes seemed to see inside her soul. Pastor Dean stood beside him, holding his Bible with both hands. Soon Alyssa Pennington would be Mrs. Brendan Myers.

  Mrs. St. Claire started the bridal march, and everyone stood. Dad tried to ease them forward, but Alyssa froze, unable to force one foot in front of the other. Unfazed, he reached down, gently pulled one of her hands free, and squeezed it. Three squeezes, and she released the breath she was holding. Still looking forward, she squeezed back three times. They had started doing that in church, this church, when she was a little girl. The tradition had stuck, and they both knew three squeezes meant “I love you.”

  “It’s normal to be nervous,” he whispered as he took her arm again and they stepped forward. He kept them at a slow, steady pace down the aisle, each pew decorated with white baby’s breath, greenery, and white bows. It was her moment. The moment every young woman dreams about.

  She passed Glenda Hightower on her left. Glenda got credit for Alyssa’s hair on this special day. She had managed to take Alyssa’s unruly dark curls and tame them into a beautiful updo beneath her veil. Alyssa smiled at her friend, then noticed Bob Shanks to her right. Bob had been her first boyfriend when she was in the seventh grade. Now he was happily married to Amy, and Raelyn and Joshua were their four-year-old twins. Alyssa glanced at the people she loved on each side of the aisle—around two hundred—but she couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting back to her soon-to-be husband. The most handsome and wonderful man on the planet.

  But as she drew close to him, something twisted in her heart, a heaviness she would remember for the rest of her life. Pastor Dean asked, “Who gives this woman to this man?” As planned, her father said, “Her mother and I.” But that part was a blur, like jumbled voices echoing in a tunnel of her brain that wasn’t tuned in.

  All she saw at that moment was the sweat pouring down both sides of Brendan’s face and the tears welling in his eyes as he whispered how sorry he was. For what?

  A long, brittle silence loomed between them like a heavy mist, and Alyssa couldn’t breathe.

  “I can’t do this,” he finally said.

  And he bolted out of the church.

  Alyssa lifted her wedding dress onto the counter and handed the hanger to Loretta Klatt, swallowing back the lump in her throat.

  “Hon, are you sure ’bout this? You love this dress. You’ve been eyeing it for years, and it fits you like a dream. Sure you don’t want to keep it, just in case?” Loretta draped the dress over one arm and sighed as she glanced up at the wall. Hundreds of photos hung there, all brides that Loretta had dressed and sent down the aisle in the forty years she’d owned the shop. Alyssa had assumed her own bridal photo would be hanging there by now.

  “No, thank you.” She nodded to make it definite. “It’s been two months. I’m not getting married. Not to Brendan anyway. Maybe never.” She pulled her eyes from Loretta’s and hung her head for a few moments before she looked back up to see Loretta hanging Alyssa’s beautiful dress on a rack behind her. She blinked a few times, resolved that there would be no more tears. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Thank you, Loretta. For taking the dress back.”

  Loretta stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans, her plain white button-up shirt straining against a full bosom. For someone who made a living dressing people in wedding attire, Lore
tta was not exactly a walking advertisement for her business. Her long gray hair hung to her waist, and her short cropped bangs were cut high above gray eyebrows.

  “I’m just so sorry about what happened. I’ve seen my share of couples, believe you me, and I really thought you and Brendan were the real thing. If ever a man was crazy about a girl . . .” Loretta shook her head and frowned, bringing together a road map of wrinkles.

  Alyssa wasn’t sure how much more pity she could swim in. She was drowning in it. Forcing a smile—again—she said, “Evidently not.” She gave a quick wave before she walked out of the shop. As the bell on the door clinked against the glass, she was reminded how many times she’d been in and out of Loretta’s store for fittings, to choose bridesmaid dresses, or just to chat with Loretta about her wedding.

  Her wedding to Brendan Myers. The only man she’d ever loved. But now hated.

  Brendan counted out the last of three hundred dollars to Rudy Schmutz.

  Rudy shook his head. “I’ll take your money, but I can’t promise it’ll do any good.” He stuffed the bills into one back pocket and pulled a can of chewing tobacco from the other. He put a pinch between his cheek and gum. “She ain’t gonna get back with you, fella. You humiliated that girl in front of the whole town.”

  “I’m not giving up. Ever.” Brendan looked up at the blue sky above, imagining the banner trailing behind Randy’s crop duster and the look of surprise and wonder on Alyssa’s face. “Now remember what I said. You gotta fly over Monument Hill at two o’clock next Saturday. That’s when they start the reenactment. Alyssa will be there for sure. Her dad makes sure the family goes to that stuff.”

  Rudy shrugged his broad, bony shoulders. “Whatever you say.” He spit out a brown stream, then raised his bushy brown eyebrows. The guy was about fifty, but he looked more like eighty to Brendan. His face was weathered, he walked with a limp—supposedly from falling off a bull—and he was always scowling. But he was the only guy with a Pawnee crop duster who was willing to take the job at a price Brendan could semiafford.

  Brendan had gotten back the deposit he’d put down on a small house for him and Alyssa, but he’d given it to his parents on top of the rent he already paid them. At the time, that had seemed like the right thing to do, especially since his mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. But based on the amount of booze in the house, he didn’t think the extra money was going toward his mother’s health care. He’d already started putting money away for another deposit. Rentals in small towns didn’t come along often, but he wanted to be ready when one did. He really needed his own place. Another reason he shouldn’t be spending money on stuff like banners.

  Not that that would stop him.

  “I have to get back to work before Lenny gets back from the Lions Club meeting.” His rancher boss was a great guy, but Lenny expected a full day’s work for a fair wage, and Brendan had always given Lenny a hundred percent. It wasn’t just a matter of being a good employee. Brendan loved the work, especially tending to the horses.

  Rudy chuckled as he limped back to his truck. “Shoulda just married the girl when you had the chance.”

  Brendan pushed back the rim of his Stetson, a Christmas gift from Alyssa. “I know that, Rudy. And I aim to get her back before it’s too late.”

  Alyssa found Sherry at the back of the café in the booth where they always sat. Her blond hair was braided into pigtails, which only made her chubby cheeks look even rounder. She waved and then stood awkwardly to greet Alyssa with a hug.

  “Are you okay?” Sherry eased herself back against the bench seat and folded her hands across her enlarged belly. “That couldn’t have been easy, returning the dress.” Sherry still had another few weeks until her due date, but Alyssa’s lifelong friend looked like she was about to pop any minute.

  “It went pretty much like I expected. Loretta tried to talk me out of it, but she took the dress back in the end. That dream is over. Every wedding gift has been returned, every last wedding detail undone. That was the last item on the list. Time to move on.” Alyssa slid into the seat and put her purse beside her. “What about you? You look miserable.” She picked up one of the paper menus that was already on the table. Not that she needed it. She always ordered the same thing—a tuna melt with a side of fruit.

  Sherry sighed. “All that stuff they say about glowing during pregnancy . . . well, it’s not true. The first four months, I threw up. And the last four, I’ve spent unable to see my toes and with a waddle that would make any penguin proud.”

  Alyssa grinned. She knew lunch with her former matron of honor would be the perfect thing to do after returning her wedding dress. “Well, you don’t have much longer. Another few weeks and we’ll be holding Monroe Junior.”

  “You do realize how much I love my husband, don’t you? Why else would I let that man name our firstborn Monroe?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid li’l Monroe Modenstein is going to be teased his entire life.”

  “I doubt it. He’ll probably be a big boy like his daddy. No one will pick on him.” Everyone in town loved Sherry’s husband. He was six foot seven and a tad heavy, a size that had served him well on the football field all through high school. He was a big old teddy bear, though, and he adored Sherry, who barely reached five foot tall.

  “I’ll have a double cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake.” Sherry spieled off her order to the waitress. From the time she’d found out she was pregnant, Sherry had taken that as the go-ahead to indulge in all the dietary luxuries she’d never allowed herself before. “Oh, and one of those brownie parfaits.”

  Alyssa slapped her menu closed. “I’ll have the same.”

  Sherry’s eyes widened. “You’re not pregnant too, are you?” She giggled. Alyssa’s best friend knew good and well that Alyssa and Brendan had never done the act.

  “It’s time for some changes.” Alyssa sat taller. “I’ll start slow with a new lunch selection.”

  “So tell me,” Sherry said as she shifted her weight in the seat. “What has Brendan done lately to win you back?”

  Alyssa slouched into her seat. “Can’t we talk about baby clothes or diaper choices . . . or anything besides Brendan?”

  Sherry quickly covered her mouth, then burped. “Good grief. I’ve got more gas than a flatulent linebacker.”

  Alyssa laughed. “Or we can talk about your gastric issues.”

  “Ugh. Not a good topic. So are you going to tell me or not? You know I live to hear about Brendan’s shenanigans.”

  Sometimes Alyssa wished she could leave La Grange, even if it was just for a while. She feared she would always be the girl who got dumped at the altar, and Brendan was only keeping the embarrassing story alive by trying to woo her back. “He’s making a fool of himself,” she finally said. “My dad went and talked to him last week and told him to quit sending things to the house.”

  Sherry smiled. “I think it’s romantic, all those flowers he keeps sending.”

  “Last week he sent me a kitten with a note that said, ‘You make my heart purr.’ Can you imagine?”

  Sherry laughed out loud. “He’s so goofy.”

  Alyssa sighed. It was one of the things she’d loved about Brendan. “Well, he needs to stop, and that’s what Dad went to tell him. To leave me alone.” She paused. “What kills me is that he doesn’t have the money to spend on things like that. Especially now that his mom is sick.”

  “Aw, poor guy. He’s made it clear how much he regrets what he did. Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive him and give it another shot?”

  Alyssa shook her head. “I’ve forgiven him already. But I just can’t trust him.” She drew in a big gulp of air, then let it out slowly. “I just want to get on with my life, and he’s making that impossible.”

  “Well, I think you’re making a mistake. Monroe said that all the boys were ribbing him at the bachelor party, joking about the end of the good life and all that.” She lifted one eyebrow. “Not my Monroe, of course, but the othe
rs. And you know how those boys get when they’re together sometimes. Brendan was probably already nervous to be stepping up to the plate, but I’m sure those guys were partly responsible for running him off the field. And then there’s Brendan’s family situation.”

  Alyssa was well aware of Brendan’s dysfunctional family. The whole town was. She and Sherry were quiet as the waitress set their food down. Then Alyssa said, “None of that is reason enough for leaving the woman you love at the altar. I don’t care how bad the guys were trash talking about marriage. And I know how afraid Brendan was of turning out like his parents. We’d talked about that.”

  “I just think you’re hurting yourself by not giving him another chance.” Sherry took a giant bite of her burger and hadn’t quite finished chewing when she added, “He’s never gonna give up.”

  “Well, he’s going to have to.”

  Alyssa was finally able to veer the conversation in another direction, and Sherry spent the latter part of their lunch talking about her upcoming labor and delivery. “Monroe knows I have a high tolerance for pain. I don’t expect I’ll be needing all those drugs they offer up.”

  “Maybe have them on standby. You know, just in case.” Alyssa dabbed at her mouth with the napkin as she recalled Sherry’s trip to the dentist last year. Alyssa had taken her to get a tooth extracted, and she wasn’t so sure about Sherry’s high tolerance for pain.

  Alyssa let the last of the brownie parfait settle against her palate, savoring it, before they split the bill.

  When they got outside, Alyssa hugged her friend. “I knew you would cheer me up, Sherry. Thanks for meeting me for lunch.”

  Sherry chuckled. “That’s what I do, you know. I eat. All the time.” She gave a quick wave and started walking toward the bank where she worked. Alyssa took off in the other direction, and she was almost to her car when someone called out her name. She turned around, brought a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun, and peered at the gorgeous man approaching her from down the block.