Pippa had been in a fire. She was hurt. No one could tell him how badly yet. Dread had seized him by the throat and hadn’t relinquished its harsh grip yet.
Urgency and fear sat hard on his shoulders, whirling around him like hurricane force winds. He stopped in the middle of the confusion of firefighters and construction workers and pivoted in a circle. Desperation pounded behind his breastbone, slamming like a sledgehammer with each beat of his terrified heart.
“Pippa? Spitfire!” he bellowed. “Spitfire, where the fuck are you?”
“Clay Mathers, you watch your language!”
Pippa’s answering shout, even with the chastisement, rang like bells in his ears. He spun in the direction of her voice and found her sitting in the back of an ambulance. Dashing toward her, he leaped over a fat fire hose snaking across the grass near the ornate fountain. He skidded to a stop at her side, knocking an unsuspecting EMT to the ground.
Clay searched Pippa’s face and body to reassure himself her injuries weren’t as severe as what his mind had conjured in the race to her side. Black smudges marred the tender skin under her nose and around her lips. A streak of dried blood trailed down her neck, staining her white T-shirt brownish-red. His breath stuttered when he gently touched the large square of gauze covering the source of the blood. Her pulse pounded scant millimeters from the edge of the bandage. Terror smacked him between the shoulder blades, driving all breath from his lungs. He seized the woman he loved beyond life itself and wrapped her in a fierce embrace. “I was scared I’d lost you this time. God, Pippa, don’t ever do that again.”
A strand of his hair had escaped his normally tidy ponytail during his mad dash to get to her, and she tucked it behind his ear. She smiled, humor lighting her gorgeous blue eyes. “Hey, you big doofus. It’s not like I woke up this morning and asked myself, ‘Hmm, what can I do today to put myself in jeopardy?’ I’ve had enough danger to last a lifetime, thank you very much.”
Her reference to their recent brush with the psychopath who’d held them hostage penetrated the fear fogging his brain. She’d been forced at gunpoint to tie up her children, then him, before she’d been sent to break Crazy Dewey’s kid out of jail.
She still muttered in her sleep about the incident, terrorized by what she’d done when faced with the big-ass gun Dewey had pointed at her kids. Clay’s nightmares were images of the black muzzle of the gun pressed into the vulnerable flesh under her chin. She’d displayed uncommon grace under pressure and a true talent for thinking fast to help them escape. It was during that trying time that he’d first told Pippa of his love for her, and made her promise to marry him.
This was the second harrowing event in two months she’d lived through. Despite her bedraggled appearance, her cheeky grin was heaven to him. He tightened his embrace, cuddling her trembling body tightly against his chest. The rough wool of the damp blanket encasing her shoulder scratched against his palms. “Why are you soaking wet?”
“The sprinklers worked,” she muttered through chattering teeth.
Clay’s stomach clenched painfully when the EMT nudged him to the side and replaced the oxygen mask over Pippa’s mouth and nose. “Keep this on. I heard you wheeze from all the way down there. Hey, Colonel, I’d like to finish wrapping her ankle. Stand back.”
The look Clay shot the man had intimidated five-star generals, but the medic seemed oblivious to it. Holy shit, the dude actually shooed him away like a pesky fly.
He had opened his mouth to tell the guy to fuck off when Pippa laid her hand on his arm, stalling his words.
“Clay, why don’t you park it next to me and let Robert finish his job?” She patted the metal floor of the ambulance invitingly. “Come on, sit here and keep me warm.”
“Christ, Pippa. I’m not one of the kids.” His tone was sullen, like he’d been scolded for something he didn’t do.
“Then don’t act like one.”
Heat flushed into his cheeks at her soft words. She was right. He scooted a half step to the left to make room for the man to work. Pippa winced when the EMT took her ankle in his hand, mumbling an apology. Shivers wracked her body. Clay shrugged his heavy canvas coat off and draped it around her, then plopped down and crowded in close, lending her his body heat.
“What happened?” he asked.
She lifted a hand to the oxygen mask, but dropped it again when the medic shook his head. “Malin and I were discussing flowers and bands when the room started filling with smoke. Next thing we knew, flames were licking across the ceiling and the sprinkler heads busted open. We tried to leave through the hallway but there was too much smoke. Then the service entrance in the kitchen was padlocked. To make matters worse, I rolled my ankle.”
Clay’s stomach flipped. They’d been trapped. Only the knowledge she was safe in his arms made it possible to hold onto his lunch. “Who do I need to thank for saving you?”
The EMT snorted. “According to Malin Eckert, even with a messed up ankle, this lady saved them both. She swung a chair through one of the patio doors.”
Respect and admiration beamed on the guy’s face as he gently wrapped her injured limb with stretchy tape. Clay scowled at him. The ambulance attendant had no business looking at Clay’s fiancée that way.
The scowl didn’t faze the man. “That must have hurt. No way could you have broken through those doors with your weight on just one leg. Those mullions are made of lead.”
Pippa tsked at him. “Old lead. It was nothing.”
“Pippa Sanders, quit trying to pass off a compliment.” Malin joined them, a navy blue blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Hugging Clay when he leaped from his perch next to Pip, Mal said, “I don’t know if I’d have made it out if Pippa hadn’t been there. She was cool and calm the whole time. I owe her my life.”
“Mal, you’d have been fine. Better probably, if you hadn’t needed to drag me around.” The oxygen mask muffled her words, but her smile was unmistakable.
“I considered ditching you once the temperature in the room started rising. But then I thought, no, better not,” Malin teased, a grin stretched wide across her face.
They had been close enough to the fire to feel the heat? Clay sank onto the step of the ambulance, resisting the urge to puke. He lowered his head between his knees until the dizzy wave of fright passed. “God. Oh, hell. Do the kids know?”
Pippa stroked her hand down his spine. “Not yet. When you didn’t answer, I called my mom. She’s picking them up from school. We can swing by to get them when I get through at the hospital.” She gestured at the paramedic. “Robert is making me go to the emergency room so they can check my lungs. I’ve never ridden in an ambulance before. Mason and Mia are going to be so jealous.”
Clay tipped his head back and barked out relieved laughter. Leave it to his spitfire to put a positive spin on this crazy, freakin’ mess. Good Lord, his life was never going to be dull.
By the time Pippa had been poked, prodded, and respirated to within an inch of her life and released from the hospital, it was dinnertime. They stopped for pizza on the way to her parents’ house.
Mason catapulted himself at her when they walked through the front door, knocking the crutches she’d been given in the emergency room out from under her arms. They clattered to the floor. The little man wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Mommy! I’m so glad you’re not burned up. Grammy said you were in a fire. Were you scared?”
Mia raced down the hallway and joined the family hug. Pippa lowered her injured foot to the floor to maintain balance, wincing when the force of the two little bodies drove her back. Clay hastily set the pizza boxes on the hall table and stepped in, cradling her against his chest, supporting her with an arm around her hips. Grateful to have him at her back, she lifted her foot. Relief from the biting pressure flowed through her like a song. Pain that had hummed like a tuning fork receded to a dull throb.
They stood clustered together, a tight circle of love. The rightness of the moment sent her
heart soaring. These people were her tribe. Always would be.
Relief shimmering in her eyes, Mom joined the circle. “I’m so relieved you’re okay.”
Dad stooped to pick up her crutches, then handed them to her once she was freed from the family hug. As she fitted one under her arm, he wiped tears off his face.
The sight of her father’s emotion brought moisture to the corners of her eyes. “Dad, I’m all right. Really. The doctor said I’ll be coughing for a few days, and I have to stay on crutches for a week. You know it never takes me long to get back to normal. Remember when I broke my arm in grade school? Doc said six weeks, then took the cast off after three. Honestly, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
Her mom, one hand on each of the twins’ shoulders, gasped, a horrified look on her face. “Oh, Pip! You’re walking down the aisle in five days. How are we going to manage that?”
“I’ve got that covered.” Clay stole the crutches from under her arms and handed them to Mason while Pippa wobbled on one leg.
She squeaked when he lifted her in his arms and braced her against his chest. “Clay, put me down!” The twins laughed, the delightful sound resonating deeply within her. Clay led the way to the kitchen, the small parade following closely behind, with Dad carrying their dinner and bringing up the rear.
Mason pulled out a chair at the large pine plank table and held it as her strong husband-to-be lowered her to the seat. Clay pressed a kiss against her lips before he scooted another chair close to hers and slipped onto it. His flesh was warm when he laced their fingers together and rested their joined hands on his sturdy thigh.
Mom grabbed colorful paper plates from a cupboard and handed them to Mia. “Put these out for me, sweetie. Do you want milk or apple juice to drink?”
“Milk please, Grammy. Mason, do you want milk, too?”
He nodded, then grabbed Pippa’s cheeks between his small hands. “Mommy, do you want milk or a more adult beverage?”
Laughter burst from her lips. Time with Uncle Sam would have to be curtailed. Mason’s little ears were hearing a bit too much. “Milk will be fine, Mason.”
Dad chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Mason’s shoulders and started to lead him to the powder room. “Come on, little buddy. Let’s go clean up.”
Grinning, Pippa leaned into the solid strength of Clay’s broad chest. He’d been fierce when dealing with the doctors, but it hadn’t surprised her. She knew from working with Seeley as she continued to recover from a stroke, Clay’s protective instincts ran strong and deep. He’d been insistent and demanding regarding Seeley’s health care. Tonight, he’d been tender with Pippa though, holding her hand in the emergency room. He’d growled once when she couldn’t stop a groan as the doctor poked her foot. Clay hadn’t budged from her side, rubbing her back as she coughed residual smoke out of her lungs. He’d lobbied to have her admitted for observation, but the attending physician had insisted it wasn’t necessary.
“Pippa, what are we going to do about the wedding?” Her mom slid onto the chair opposite her and opened the pizza box, releasing the delicious smell of cheese, pepperoni, and red sauce.
Her stomach growled as she accepted a slice and put it in front of Clay, then took the next plate for herself. “I don’t know, Mom. I haven’t thought that far yet.”
Dad patted Mom’s shoulder, the motion easing some of the agitation on her face. “Eileen, let her eat in peace. She’s been through a lot. We’ll solve this after dinner.”
Mom twisted her fingers together, the gesture reminiscent of a Victorian maiden wringing her hands. “We’d better come up with a plan. Fast. Out-of-town guests are about to arrive, and as of right now, we have no place to hold the wedding.”
Pippa contained the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother was a planner from way back. Every duck always had to be in a neat and tidy row. This wedding was as much Mom’s party as it was theirs. Pip laid her hand on Clay’s knee and gazed up at him. “The kids and I don’t care where we marry Clay. As long as he’s waiting at the end of the aisle for us, any place is perfect.”
“Amen to that.” Clay leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek. The quick peck might be chaste but sizzling electricity rained through her system at his touch. God, she loved her physical reaction to him almost as much as she loved the man himself.
“Well, maybe we should try to book the truck stop on the highway.” Her mom’s snarky tone drew her back to the moment.
“Mom.” No one in the room could mistake the gentle chiding in Pippa’s tone. The woman had finally crossed the line. She resorted to humor to calm her mother’s worries. “Malin is already looking for another location. I’ll suggest the truck plaza to her. Maybe the big barn at the Sleepy T Tree Farm, too. A Christmas tree farm would be a perfect setting for a holiday wedding, don’t you think?”
Clay’s sharply indrawn breath drew her gaze. The glint in his eyes warned her he was mulling an option she’d find unorthodox.
Mia bounced in her chair. “It would be so cool to marry Clay at the farm. People could play with the kittens and with Nana Seeley’s dog. We could skip down an aisle of Christmas trees to the altar. A church-barn would be cool.”
Mia had taken to helping plan the wedding the way any young girl might. She’d helped Pip pick out a dress and declared her a fairy princess in the elegant ivory gown they’d finally settled on.
The child’s excitement gave way to distress. “’Cept it will be cold outside.”
“If I were a mad scientist, this is where I’d yell ‘eureka!’” Clay leaped up, grabbed Mia and twirled her around, sprinkling little kisses on her cheeks. Her giggle filled the room. Clay grinned. “Mia, honey, if you want our family to marry at the Sleepy T, I will make sure it is the prettiest church-barn in the world.”
Their combined laughter warmed Pippa’s soul. Clay had a soft spot for her—no, their—daughter. There was a bond between them that couldn’t be denied. Like the connection Pippa shared with her father. Clay loved both her children and had already set adoption proceedings in place.
“Clay, you’re going to make her dizzy,” Pippa complained half-heartedly.
Clay handed Mia over to Dad then walked over to kneel beside her chair. His expression lively with excitement. “Let’s get married in the barn.”
She scoffed, then noticed the earnest expression snapping in his green eyes. “Oh, Lord, you’re serious. Why aren’t you kidding?”
“Hear me out, Pip. It’s perfect. It’s big enough. The doors between the gift shop and barn open all the way. We have the ceremony in the shop and the reception in the big section.”
“But there’s so much work to do. It would have to be cleaned and stuff moved out to make space. Clay, the wedding is less than a week away. I won’t be much help with a bad ankle. And that much hard work would wear Seeley out.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll work out the details with Malin. Jack, Sam, and Scott can all help.”
“You really want to get married in the barn?” Her skepticism had translated into leeriness in her voice.
“Pippa, you said it doesn’t matter to me where you, me, and the kids tie the knot. As long as we do. I promise you, I can make this work. Remember, I’m a master strategist. This will be a piece of cake.”
3
Clay dropped a load of heavy, musty feed sacks just as the sneeze threatened. Pinching the bridge of his nose he waited for the ticklish sensation to subside. He’d been at it since oh-dark-thirty this morning, moving twenty years of his mother’s accumulated crap to the entrance of the barn. The cold, damp weather made it uncomfortable work, but he’d promised Pippa he’d have the place spotless in time for their wedding. And come hell or high water, he’d make it happen.
Last night after dinner, he’d called Jack and activated the Kerrigan first response team. At least, that’s what he called them privately. Spitfire’s brothers never held back when it came to helping their sibling out. As soon as he’d proven to them how much he loved
their sister, they allowed him into their circle of trust. So, by extension, they had his back. He’d work that relationship like a pimp to give Pippa the fairy-tale wedding he’d promised her last night.
Jack walked over to join him, throwing himself onto the Adirondack bench just outside the door, running his sleeve across his brow, his short black hair soaked with sweat. He’d arrived two hours ago and had been working like a fiend. “Remind me to never let you estimate a job for me, Clay. You suck at it. A day’s work, my ass. Do you want me to call a couple guys from my construction crew for additional help? It’ll cost you, though.” He reached for the water bottle he’d left on the bench earlier and took a long drink.
“Mom told me it was only two decades worth of stuff, but I hauled a stack of newspapers from the Eighties out a little bit ago. Damn, I wish Sam wasn’t in class this morning. We could use the help.” Clay scrubbed his hand over his chin.
Jack smirked, and held up his cell phone, waggling it at Clay.
Clay’s shoulders slumped, discouraged. “Well, shit. Make the call. I’ll pay whatever it takes.”
Waiting for his call to connect, Jack asked, “Did you arrange for a Dumpster?”
“Mom threatened to ground me if I threw anything away before she had a chance to sort through it.” Clay chuckled as he scanned the rutted lane leading to the highway. “I’ve ordered a container to use for storage. It should be delivered soon.”
He surveyed the parking area in front of the gift shop. Thank God he’d had gravel dropped in November to even out the lot for Christmas tree shoppers. Gravel worked great for boots and sneakers, but wasn’t optimal for the type of high heels ladies would wear to a wedding.
Unfortunately, crushed rocks were the only option they had. He pulled a small paper tablet from his back pocket and added a note to talk to the table rental company. Maybe they could provide carpet runners. It beat risking a twisted ankle. Another one.
A Winter Wedding: A Five Senses Short (Five Senses series) Page 2