Winds of Change: A Sweet, Inspirational, Small Town, Romantic Suspense Series (Heart Lake Book 1)

by Jo Grafford

  “Actually, my plan was for a nice, quiet little ceremony,” Josh muttered beneath his breath to her.

  She gave a nervous chuckle and whispered back, “Maybe we could pretend to play along, then slip out the back.”

  “Clever.”

  As it turned out, only their closest friends and family were awaiting them inside the farmhouse, however. The minister was nowhere to be seen. So much for their hope of escaping whatever their friends had planned for them!

  “Hope, honey.” Clara Remington hurried across the living room in a snappy royal blue dress. She threw her arms around her daughter. While Hope hugged her back, she watched a pair of Josh’s friends whisk him from the room.

  “Someone better make Josh take his pain meds,” Hope called after them.

  Deck spun around to give her a mock salute. Then he disappeared through the arched doorway leading to the hall.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” Hope’s mother babbled, sounding every shade of agitated. “Is it true? You’re really getting married? To Josh, that is?” She held her daughter at arm’s length, cocking her head critically at her disheveled suit. “What happened to that nice young man you brought to dinner awhile back?”

  “To my billionaire friend, you mean?” Hope shot back dryly.

  “Hope!” her mother hissed, shooting an embarrassed look around them. However, they were the only ones left in the room.

  Hope stiffly returned her mother’s hug. “I know how you and Father always felt about Josh, so I seriously didn’t want to burden you with the news that I was marrying the guy.”

  “Hope, I think it’s something I deserve to know,” her mother protested. Her cheeks grew pink. “I know we don’t see eye-to-eye on everything, but you’re all the family I have left.”

  “I deserve to know things, too, Mother. I deserved to know what you wrote in those letters to Josh all those years ago. I deserved to know that you were so overcome with remorse over what Father had done to keep Josh and I apart that you appeased your conscience by practically giving him the family farm.”

  “Oh, honey!” her mother sighed. “There’s so much more to the story that I hardly know where to begin. For one thing, your father had just found out that Josh wasn’t going to graduate on time from high school. So even if your father hadn’t stopped him from meeting you on the covered bridge that day, Josh was going to summer school, baby girl, not college.”

  “We can quibble all day over the past.” Hope dropped her arms. “Or we can skip straight to the root of the matter.” She faced her mother squarely. “I love him, Mother. I love Josh Hawling so much that it scares me sometimes. There! I said it. Your hallowed Remington offspring had the audacity to fall in love with a blasted Hawling. Oh, the horrors!” She placed a hand mockingly over her heart.

  “Hope,” her mother moaned. “I just want what’s best for you. That’s all I ever wanted and all your father ever wanted. I know you’re upset, but you have to at least believe that part.”

  Hope raised her chin. “I’ll believe it the day you admit that Josh Hawling is what’s best for me.” She shot her mother a challenging look, waiting. When she didn’t respond, Hope plunged onward. “He’s not just the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with. He’s as necessary to me as air and water. So even if you’re not overly thrilled about my choice of husbands, just try to be happy about the fact that I’m finally happy. For the first time in ten years, I’m actually happy, Mother!”

  Katie Burke chose that moment to pop her head back inside the room. She delicately cleared her throat to get their attention. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we have a wedding about to take place, and ah…” She swung around the dress she’d been hiding behind her back. “Anyhow, your Mother insisted on lending you this one.”

  Hope’s eyes widened as she recognized the vintage ivory lace of her Mother’s own wedding gown. “But I thought you didn’t approve—”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake!” Clara Remington’s chin came up in defiance. “No, I’m not one hundred percent at peace with the fact that you’re stooping to marry a bloody Hawling. And, yes, it would have been really nice to watch my daughter walk down the aisle with a billionaire philanthropist. However, if you insist on marrying that dusty bull rider, I’m going to find a way to be happy about it, even if it kills me!”

  Hope stared at her, open-mouthed. It took a moment for her to clamp her lips together. “Wow, Mother! Just…wow!” She stomped in Katie’s direction, torn between donning her mother’s wedding dress and tossing it out the nearest window.

  “I’m trying, sweetheart!” Clara Remington called after her. “I really am.”

  Hope held up a hand. “I’m going to need a minute.” Away from you, preferably, before we strangle each other.

  A round-eyed Katie wordlessly handed over the lovely dress.

  Hope snatched it up and marched blindly down the hallway. For whatever reason, she headed toward her old bedroom.

  “Last door on the left,” Katie called after her. “I’ll come help you with the dress in a bit.”

  Hope yanked open her old bedroom door and stopped short. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to set it up as a bridal dressing room. A serious amount of trouble. Her mother’s antique oval mirror was standing in one corner. Next to it was a vintage makeup table with a white cushioned bench.

  Even the bathroom had been elaborately decorated with white-on-white embroidered towels. Her mother’s signature lavender and vanilla soap, shampoo, lotions, and body sprays were scattered artfully throughout. It was truly a work of love.

  Hope tried to hold on to her anger as she scrubbed the insanity of the day off, but it was impossible — just like her crazy but wonderful mother had known it would be. By the time Hope returned to the bedroom, a pair of scented candles were burning, one on each windowsill. Lavender and vanilla, of course. Scents that Hope wanted to hate due to the fact that they were her mother’s favorite. It was impossible to change her opinion about them, though, since they happened to be her favorite scents, as well.

  Both her mother and Katie reappeared in time to help her don the stunning wedding dress. Hope had always adored old things, but it was extra special to be wearing the same dress her mother had once worn. It was just her style, too, with just the right amount of country western flair.

  “The dress is old, but these are new. They’re just designed to look old.” Her mother produced a pair of white leather pumps with closed toes and kitten heels. They were covered in stitching lace, bringing to mind a piece of vintage embroidery.

  “They’re perfect,” Hope breathed. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Clara Remington gave her a beauteous smile and went to work drying and styling her daughter’s hair. She opted for the “less is more” look, keeping her hair down. She parted it on one side and loosely scooped it back with a pearlized clip. “There.” Her mother stepped back to survey her work.

  “We’re not finished yet. It’s makeup time, ladies!” Katie took over and started applying powder, paint, and gloss to finish dolling up the bride. Glancing at her watch, she chuckled. “We better get boot scootin’. I think they’re ready for us now.”

  Hope was led out the front door and lifted back inside the armored SUV. Deck drove her around the farmhouse to the big red barn behind it. Only then did Hope understand the full extent to which their friends had gone on their behalf.

  They’d completely transformed the barn into a wedding paradise. There were white lights strung between the lofts and dripping from the rafters. White draped tables and chairs were artfully arranged around the wide central room. Hope’s head spun as her dazed brain tried to take it all in.

  Though the barn had undergone numerous renovations to keep it in pristine shape, it was over a century old, the last structure standing from the original property where the Christmas Mountain Inn had once stood. Her mind racing over her family tree, she tried to imagine what it was like when her great-great-great-great-grandmother (and she might
be missing a few greats), Lacey Cleveland, had stood in this same barn with her beau, Edward Remington — the second Remington to settle on Christmas Mountain after inhering the place from his grandfather. He was the Remington who’d stayed and helped build an impressive number of the homes and businesses that existed to this day on the north side of town.

  Hope caught her breath to note the trellis of white roses at the far end of the room. The minister from the church overlooking Heart Lake was waiting there for her. So was Josh.

  He’d cleaned up and changed, too. She could only assume he’d been spruced up by an army of friends the same way her mother and Katie had assisted in her preparations. He was wearing a gray suit jacket with a single white rosebud pinned to the lapel, a white button-up shirt, and a silver bolo. The rest of his wardrobe, however, made her smile. She should’ve known he couldn’t be parted from his jeans, boots, and Stetson — not even for their wedding day. It was a white Stetson this time.

  The way he was drinking in her approach with his dark eyes took her breath away. She barely heard the opening notes of the wedding march as she sashayed in his direction. He had eyes only for her, and she had eyes only for him. They might as well have been the only two people in the room.

  The moment she arrived at his side, he reached for her hand. “I love you, Hope.” There was the echo of a thousand longings in his voice, and the ring of a thousand promises.

  Epilogue

  Hope Remington and Josh Hawling challenged the barriers of the past between their two families by vowing to love and cherish each other for as they long as they had left together, in the presence of all their dearest friends.

  One man was particularly sad to see the diamond encrusted emerald wedding ring slide onto her left hand. Kellan Maddox wanted to be happy for the newly married couple. He was trying to be. He really was. But there just weren’t many women in the world as extraordinary as Dr. Hope Remington. There never had been and never would be. Jaded rich guys like him could date a thousand women and only run across one like her in a single lifetime. It was way too bad she’d chosen to be with someone else, because it probably meant he was destined to spend the rest of his days as a very lonely bachelor.

  He faked his most winning smile, guaranteed to light up the cameras, as he congratulated the happy couple. Actually, the fact that Hope was happy was his only consolation that he’d done the right thing in stepping aside and letting her go.

  “As promised, I have someone I want you to meet,” Hope whispered in his ear while they hugged. “Far end of the room, table nearest the door. I already told her all about you, so you’d best go introduce yourself before she escapes.”

  Before she escapes, huh? That sounds promising…not. Kellan glanced down at his two-toned wingtips, grinning despite himself. “You’re something else, Dr. Hope. You know that?” Though he doubted there was anything about her friend that would remotely interest him, he appreciated what she was trying to do for him. Shoot! Any woman who was thinking about another person’s happiness on her wedding day was every shade of amazing. For that reason alone, he decided to humor her.

  After shaking Josh Hawling’s hand and getting his bones crushed to minuscule pieces, Kellan turned away to seek out Hope’s friend. A moment later, he nearly forgot the fact that he could no longer feel his right hand.

  Where Hope was goddess tall and a heavenly shade of blonde, the friend she wanted him to meet was petite with a dark waterfall of hair cascading nearly to her waist. Her dark eyes were slightly upturned at the corners, and her lush red lips were twisted into a mocking smile. She was, quite honestly, the most stunning creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

  She angled her head at him, beckoning him to approach her, not exhibiting the least sign of shyness. To his surprise, she stood as he reached her table.

  Great. At least we’re not going to dance around the situation. Kellan was fine with that.

  “Hi, Charming!” Her voice was low, musical, and not the least bit nervous. “I’m Patty Iwasaki, and I’d offer to shake your hand if I wasn’t so worried about it being broken.”

  He waggled his brows at her. “Ah. You saw that. I’m Kellan Maddox, by the way, not Charming.” He was pretty sure he’d never felt less charming.

  Her lips came out in a pout that was both alluring and humorous. “Well, too bad. The way Hope always talks you up, I sorta got in the habit of thinking of you as Prince Charming. And now that we’ve met, I’m having a hard time turning off that mental picture.” Her dark gaze swiftly raked his designer suit and imported shoes.

  Good. The way she was looking at him was a balm to his bruised ego, because he could tell she wasn’t repelled by what she saw. Then again, that was how most women looked at him. Just not Hope. More’s the pity.

  He offered a bland smile at her Prince Charming commentary and kept silent.

  “Mind if I take a look at your hand?” Patty nodded at the one he still had stuffed in his pocket. “I’m a nurse, by the way.”

  “Knock yourself out.” He held it out to her, feeling mildly bored. He’d get his free medical exam, then make his exit.

  “Sit.” She nodded at the chair next to hers.

  He sat, and she gently began to palpate his hand, moving each joint this way and that. At first it hurt, but then it became soothing.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Romeo, but it’s not broken. Just a little squashed.”

  “Don’t care.” Kellan closed his eyes and relaxed against his seat back. Maybe he wasn’t in such a dashing hurry to leave the wedding reception, after all. “You’re very good at that,” he muttered in appreciation as she continued to work her clever fingers across his sore hand.

  “I’ve had a little practice. I paid my way through medical school by serving as a masseuse at three different clinics.”

  He cracked one eye open. “I thought you said you were a nurse.”

  “I was. Before I became a doctor.”

  He opened his other eye. “That’s impressive.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled. For real this time.

  Kellan blinked. Her smile was like being blasted by a rich beam of sunlight at high noon. “Do you always stun your victims into submission with that smile? You know,” he winked, “before you stick ‘em with sharp objects and such?”

  Her dark gaze narrowed wickedly on him. “Aw, are you flirting with me, Charming?”

  “No. Should I be?”

  “According to Hope, yes. You were supposed to walk over here, I was supposed to swoon, and you were supposed to carry me into the sunset.” She waved a hand airily. “Or something like that. I haven’t had much time to brush up on my fairytales recently. Too busy reading medical journals and twelve-inch textbooks, because I’m cool like that.”

  His upper lip curled. “Only twelve inches? What a light-weight! I think the last book I read was at least a good…” He wrinkled his brow in consideration. “I don’t know. Two inches, maybe three?” He nodded, pretending to be serious. “A Harlan Coben novel called Tell No One. Rock solid literature, I assure you. A bit of action, plenty of suspense, and no small amount of gore — enough to satisfy any level of academic-driven bloodlust. Yep.” He made a shooting motion with his thumb and forefinger. “Pretty sure it could hold its own next to any old medical journal.”

  Her fingers had stilled their palpations as he talked, though she didn’t immediately drop his hand. “You’re different from what I was expecting.”

  “Meaning I’m a little harder to hate, huh?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she protested.

  “You didn’t have to. I could see it in your eyes when I walked over here.”

  She made a scoffing sound. “Uh…no. Shoe’s on the other foot, mister. You were the one who was so bored you looked about ready to fall asleep.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I am not bored, Miss Iwasaki.” He smirked. “Or would you prefer to be called Dr. Iwasaki?”

  “My patients call me that. My friends call my Patty.”
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  “I wouldn’t mind us being friends.” He gave her a lazy grin, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Even if it doesn’t lead to a ride into the sunset.” He gave a dry chuckle. “A ride into the sunset sounds painful, anyway. Something that would require way too much sunscreen for a man of my complexion.” Red hair, pale skin. He lowered his voice. “In case you’re wondering, I’m more of a moonlit beach kinda guy…Patty.”

  “I wasn’t wondering, but thanks for the monumental revelation. I’m more of don’t-bother-I’m-busy kinda gal.” She softened the warning with another one of her enchanting smiles. “Though I make an exception now and then for my friends…Kellan.” She mimicked his dramatic pause before stating his name, making him chuckle.

  “So it’s official?” He cocked a brow at her. “We’re friends now?”

  Her smile turned teasing. “You sure you need another friend? I’ve heard you’ve made plenty since you arrived. You’re the talk of the town among the ladies.”

  He snorted. “Yes, even billionaires need friends, Pattykins. We bleed red like everyone else.”

  “In that case, yes.” She glanced down and gave a slight jolt, as if just then realizing she was still holding his hand. To his disappointment, she started to let it go.

  He curled his fingers around hers to delay the inevitable. “When can I see you again?”

  “I don’t know.” Her lush lips twisted wryly. “I could give you my number. I could even set a time and place for our next friendly little chat. But, with my luck, I’d get paged in the middle of it to go do doctorly things at the hospital.” She lightly squeezed his fingers before letting them go. “The truth is, I’m a moving target, Kellan. So no matter how charming you are and how much I might to see you again, I’ll be very hard to pin down. I’m sorry.” She stood.

  He rose to gaze down at her with more interest that he’d felt in a very long time. “Challenge accepted.”

  Hope peeked over Josh’s shoulder as they danced to see how Kellan’s first encounter with Patty was going. They’d been talking for a good twenty minutes, which was noteworthy where Kellan was concerned. If Patty hadn’t genuinely captured his interest, he would have been long gone by now.