A Wedding on Lilac Lane

by Hope Ramsay

  So that’s what they’d done. But now Brenda wondered if Dylan had put a fast one over on them. If Preston and Jim went way back, why was Jim suddenly so tense? A deep unease welled up in her, and her heart went on another familiar gallop around her chest.

  The woman on Rep. Everly’s arm—his wife, Brenda presumed—was the kind of fifty-something woman every female aspired to become. Blond, slim, with chiseled features, and wearing a gorgeous sundress with a pink flower border. Her shoes and bag were probably from some designer, although Brenda never paid any attention to brand names. Expensive-looking diamond rings on her fingers sparkled in the afternoon light as she gripped her husband’s arm.

  “Congratulations, man,” Preston said, giving Jim a practiced slap on the back. Boy, the guy had the classic politician’s smile. Were those teeth his own, or had he gotten a full set of implants? They were dazzling.

  He turned toward his wife. “I think you know Tammy.”

  “Hello, James,” the woman said in a low, husky voice, then turned toward Dylan. “And this is Dylan. The last time I saw you, you were what…?”

  “Fifteen,” Dylan said in a curt voice that telegraphed to the world just how much he didn’t want to be there. Could Jim’s son be any more unpleasant if he tried? Not really.

  “Meet Brenda.” Jim touched her back and gave her a gentle push forward. When had she taken a step back? She didn’t remember. But she fought against the ridiculous urge to run away from Rep. Everly’s wife.

  “Hello, Mrs. Everly,” she said.

  The blonde threw back her head and laughed. “Oh no, Preston and I aren’t married. We’re old friends. I’m his plus-one for the evening. Jim and Preston and I go way back to our younger days sailing at the yacht club. I was Julianne’s best friend. We went to Duke together. I was there when she fell for Jim all those years ago.”

  Tammy studied Brenda out of a pair of sharp brown eyes and seemed to be totaling things up in her head: the extra fifteen pounds Brenda hadn’t been able to lose for years, the plain gold studs in her ears, the simple chain around her neck. She probably even noticed the lack of an engagement ring she’d refused to let Jim buy her. God only knew what the woman thought about her dress, which Ella had found online for less than fifty dollars.

  So this woman had been Julianne’s best friend? It seemed so unlikely after the things Jim had told her about his late wife. Julianne had sounded like a down-to-earth sort of person, much like her younger sister, Brooklyn Huddleston. Brenda had a hard time squaring what she’d heard about Julianne Huddleston with the bejeweled woman standing in front of her.

  Unless Tammy had come to ruin the party.

  “Dammit,” Jim murmured when the woman finally moved on. “Why didn’t you tell me Tammy Hansen was on the list?” he said, turning toward Dylan, his obvious annoyance confirming Brenda’s worst suspicions.

  “I didn’t know,” Dylan said, looking toward Ella. “Was she on the list?”

  “Um,” Ella said. “She wasn’t on the invited guest list. But Representative Everly RSVP’d yesterday by email and her name was on his email. So, um, no one snuck her in, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Wait, had Ella just come to Dylan’s defense? Evidently, Jim’s son had thoroughly snookered her daughter. But then Ella had a gullible streak a mile wide; otherwise she would never have believed the BS Cody had handed her over the years.

  Jim stared down Brenda’s daughter. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course she’s sure,” Dylan said.

  Jim scowled at his son.

  “Come on, guys,” Ella said on a long breath. “The guest list is no longer a subject for debate or name trading. Who is Tammy Hansen anyway?”

  “You didn’t hear?” Brenda said. “She’s Julianne’s best friend.”

  “Oh. Yikes. I didn’t know. But, even if I did, it’s not like we could have…” Her voice faded out.

  “It’s worse than that,” Jim said in a hard voice. “She’s the woman I almost married when Dylan was fifteen.”

  Brenda’s heart went on another breath-stealing romp through her chest. Why the hell hadn’t Jim ever said one word about almost being engaged to someone else?

  Jim took her by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, not knowing what to say to him. Until this moment, she’d never mistrusted him. What other secrets had he kept from her?

  “It’s not what you think. I’ll tell you all about it later, but we still have a few guests to greet, okay?”

  She wanted to believe Jim, but she’d lost a little faith in him. Maybe he hadn’t lied to her exactly. But he’d certainly kept the truth from her, and that didn’t seem like a good place to start a marriage.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Of course Brooklyn Huddleston would be invited to this engagement party. Brooklyn was Dylan’s aunt—his late mother’s younger sister. Some people might have left Brooklyn off the list, but Jim Killough wasn’t that kind of person. Brooklyn would always be his sister-in-law no matter what. Not even a new wife would change that.

  And really, Ashley didn’t hate Brooklyn, although she was mildly jealous because Micah St. Pierre seemed to prefer Brooklyn’s scones to her oatmeal. Although, in truth, Ashley made scones too, but the Rev had always insisted that he preferred oatmeal.

  The answer to this confounding problem was quickly answered though, when Micah showed up on Brooklyn’s arm, evidently her plus-one for the evening. The turn of events quickly confirmed the worst fears of the Piece Makers. It was one thing for their minister to have his coffee at Bread, Butter, and Beans, Brooklyn’s coffee shop, and quite another for him to be squiring her around his younger brother’s yacht.

  Since all of the Piece Makers had been invited to this party, it wouldn’t take long before one or more of them pulled Ashley aside, utterly scandalized by the Rev’s behavior. Of course, a few weeks ago, these same ladies had been bemoaning the fact that their minister was unmarried.

  Now, just because he’d chosen a Methodist, some of the ladies would go into meltdown.

  On the bright side, no one seemed to be overly concerned that Micah, a mixed-race man, had set his heart on Brooklyn, who was white. Maybe things were changing here in Magnolia Falls.

  “Can I go listen to the music?” Jackie asked, tugging on her dress and pulling her from her thoughts.

  “Okay. But don’t get into trouble, and do not hog the chocolate fountain, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I want to listen to Ella play.” His blue eyes got a dreamy look to them, and Ashley didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her little boy had a big crush on Brenda’s daughter. Maybe there was hope yet that he’d one day grow out of his obsession with Captain Teal. Of course, the poor child was going to get his heart broken when he discovered that Ella had a secret lover.

  Because what she’d seen earlier was not sisterly. Plus, Ella hadn’t been sleeping in her room or even using the bathroom at Howland House. She would arrive half an hour before breakfast service, tiptoe up to the third floor, and then come down the stairs as if she’d been up there all night.

  But Ashley had seen the silver Honda dropping her off. She hadn’t put it all together until she’d seen Dylan’s car parked down at the clinic a few days ago. Ella and Dylan were having a fling right under their parents’ noses.

  And Ashley had decided not to do one thing about it. And if any Piece Maker asked her, she was going to lie like nobody’s business and hoped she could carry it off. Because she was a terrible liar.

  She got herself a glass of champagne and escaped to the ship’s bow for a good view of the sunset. This spot had the advantage of being far, far away from the Piece Makers, who had congregated at the yacht’s stern. She sipped the wine and enjoyed her solitude.

  Until Patsy Bauman sneaked up on her. “We need to do something about this,” she said, not bothering to even explain what “this” was all about. “Do you think she’s flirting with him because Brenda refused to direct the Gr
ace Church choir?” Patsy hadn’t even bothered to use Brooklyn’s name.

  And her whole explanation was so Patsy. The woman had a devious mind. She was forever making up stories about the people who stayed at the inn. Ashley had suggested that Patsy get herself a computer and try her hand at writing mysteries.

  “Patsy,” she said quietly, “I don’t think Brooklyn is seeking revenge. I honestly think that Micah and Brooklyn like each other.”

  The older woman stared at Ashley, mouth slightly ajar. No doubt she was astonished that Ashley had the temerity to contradict her. Or to suggest that their minister would even dream of finding a Methodist attractive.

  “But she’s—”

  “Don’t say it, Patsy. Brooklyn is pretty and smart and nice. Micah could do a lot worse.”

  Patsy blinked. “You don’t care?”

  Ashley heaved a big sigh. She did care, but for stupid reasons having to do with her oatmeal. And also because she missed him. Jackie missed him too. But he deserved happiness like everyone else, right?

  She squared on Patsy. “If Micah has a thing for Brooklyn, it’s his business.”

  “But—”

  She put up her hand in a rude gesture. “Stop it. I’m not going to talk to him, okay? I’m not going to be the one you send off to convince him not to date her. Or whatever you have in mind. I’m tired of it. And I do not want to gossip about him. I wish him well. I hope he and Brooklyn find love together.”

  “What?”

  “I do. And I’m sure that, if that happens, Brooklyn will figure out that, as a minister’s wife, she’ll need to support her husband.”

  “Oh my god. You’ve got them married already.”

  Yeah, she did. But then, wasn’t that what Patsy wanted? “You’ve been fussing for a few years about how he needs a wife. And you’re right. A minister should have a wife, and maybe he’s finally getting around to it, you know? Brooklyn would be a great addition to our altar guild.”

  “Really, Ashley, I don’t think—”

  “And you know what? I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and it might be nice if we could move the Piece Makers meetings from the inn to your house. I mean, we’ve just finished a quilt, and this would be a good time to make the change.”

  There, she’d said it. And it hadn’t even been all that hard. And once the words had left her mouth, she felt completely unburdened.

  “You want to move our meetings?” The astonished look on Patsy’s face defied description.

  “Yes, I do. I can’t commit to being there every week anymore. My business has taken off. And to be honest, I’d like to let my guests use the solarium. Things change, Patsy. We can’t keep them the same as they were when Grandmother was alive. Heck, I’m sure Grandmother isn’t pleased that I’ve turned her house into an inn. But I had to do what I had to do. So this is just the next step.”

  “The next step in what? Are you leaving our group?”

  Was she? No. But she wasn’t going to be baking a cake every week. “Of course not. But I think we need to rethink the weekly refreshments.”

  * * *

  Dylan was standing at the bar, sipping another scotch on the rocks, when Dad grabbed him by the upper arm and walked him down the companionway off the main salon.

  “You knew Preston was bringing Tammy, didn’t you? You probably arranged for that to happen,” Dad said in a hoarse whisper.

  Whoa. His father was furious. And rightly so, but Dylan was innocent.

  “I would never do something like that.”

  “No? Not even if you were trying to damage my relationship with Brenda?”

  Wow. Dad was worried. Otherwise this wrinkle in the plan wouldn’t have upset him so badly. He met his father’s suddenly somber stare.

  “Look, when we were negotiating the guest list, I thought you might like connecting with Preston again. You guys used to go fishing all the time. I had no idea he’d bring Tammy. I thought he had better taste in women.”

  “Wait. You used to adore Tammy.” Dad frowned. He was evidently taking lessons from Brenda.

  “Yeah, I did,” Dylan said on a long breath. “You did too.”

  Dad shook his head. “Not really. I mean, I did let her swoop down on us. And you liked her so much, I thought…Well, you missed your mom, and Tammy knew Julianne so well. It was fun to have her around reminiscing, I guess.”

  “Like I said, you liked her. And I thought I would try to like her too.”

  “You didn’t?”

  Dylan shook his head.

  Dylan’s father nodded. “I’m sorry. I did like her for a short while until I realized she was trying to land me like a big, fat catfish, and she was using you as bait. So I told her to get lost.”

  “What? But I thought she dumped you. I thought—”

  “She gaslighted you, Dylan. She told you a lot of lies about your mom, and I got sick and tired of watching that woman pollute Julianne’s memory. I told her never to darken our door again.”

  “Oh. Wow. Dad, I knew she was BSing me. I went along with her to make you happy. I thought you loved her, and I was so ticked off when she left because I thought you were sad about it.”

  “I guess I liked having someone around, you know. But I wasn’t really sad to see her go.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I would never have invited her. What on earth possessed Preston to invite her?” Dylan asked.

  “She probably gave him some BS reason, and Preston is so good, he never sees anyone’s ulterior motives. He isn’t going to last long in politics.”

  “What are we going to do? I don’t trust her.”

  Dad managed a small smile. “I would have thought that you welcomed this difficulty.”

  Well, that might have been true a few weeks ago. Now Dylan was worried about his father. “Dad, I gave up trying to wreck your relationship with Brenda. And you can thank Ella for that. But I’m still worried about you. I still have my misgivings about Brenda.”

  “Unfortunately, those misgivings show all the time. She feels like you’re not giving her a chance.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Well, Tammy being here isn’t going to help. Look, I need you to keep an eye on that woman. I don’t want her to do anything to hurt Brenda’s feelings. You understand? And I figure you’ll have an easier time of it than I will. Because she liked you.”

  “She used me.”

  “Well, that too. But I think she had more trouble leaving you than me. I’m going to keep Brenda as far away from that woman as possible, okay?”

  “I got it. I’m on it.”

  Dad gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m counting on you. Now, if I’m not mistaken, the girls are tuning up.” He cocked an ear in the direction of the salon.

  “Sounds like it.”

  “You’re in for a treat. This duo they’ve been working on is incredible.”

  They headed back down the passageway into the salon, where Ella and Brenda had taken up a corner. Dad got up in front of them.

  “Hey, everyone, I’m sure some of you know that my bride-to-be is a gifted musician. What you guys don’t know is that my soon-to-be daughter is maybe a little better than her mom. They’ve been working on something special for you. A performance of Wolfgang Mozart’s ‘Violin Duo Allegro.’”

  Dad stepped away from Brenda and Ella, and they began to play at a breakneck pace that blew Dylan’s socks off. They were both incredibly good, their fingers flying over the fingerboards of their instruments in a mesmerizing musical dance of dueling violins.

  A lump formed in Dylan’s throat, not because the music was terribly emotional. But because it dawned on him that he could never keep Ella here with him. One day, sooner or later, she’d be gone. Off to pursue her career in music. Off to play for audiences bigger than this one.

  She would leave him sooner or later. She might come home for the holidays. She might visit in the summer. But Magnolia Harbor would never be her home. What was she going to do with her tal
ent in this small tourist town? Find another loud country band? Continue to waste herself waiting on tables?

  No. She would leave him and break his heart, and he’d never be able to tell a soul about what he’d lost.

  When Brenda and Ella came to the end of the piece, the guests in the salon applauded. Several even shouted “brava.” The two violinists bowed and beamed.

  Brenda waved for their audience to quiet. “Thank you all so much for coming tonight. Jim and I are so happy to celebrate with our friends and family. Now I’m going to get some champagne and maybe one of those strawberries dipped in chocolate. And Ella has agreed to continue to serenade you. And by the way, y’all, if you like her music, she plays at Ashley Scott’s teas most Saturday afternoons. And I’m extremely proud of her.” Brenda leaned forward. “And she’s the one who did most of the work for this party. I’d say she did a wonderful job.”

  Everyone clapped again, and Ella stood there blushing to the tips of her auburn hair. Holy crap, Brenda had praised her daughter in front of everyone. Would wonders never cease? Well, Ella deserved it.

  And Brenda was being delightful and gracious tonight. And after hearing her play the violin, he could almost understand what Dad saw in her. Dad was, himself, a gifted musician. So maybe they had a lot in common.

  He scanned the room as Ella started to play one of the numbers he’d heard at the tea party weeks ago. Tammy was standing in the corner, a sour look on her face as she studied Ella and Brenda. He sidled up to her, determined to do Dad’s bidding tonight.

  He reached her, blocking her path as Dad escorted Brenda up the ship’s ladder to the deck. “So, Tammy, it’s been ages,” he said.

  She gave him a cool smile. “Dylan, I can’t believe how much you look like your mom,” she said. “How have you been? I missed you.”

  “Did you really?”

  She nodded and then asked, “So, do you like this woman?”