A Wedding on Bluebird Way

by Lori Wilde

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Joe, you’re not going to win this,” Marion said. “Let the girl in.”

  He glanced at Marion with obvious suspicion and then peered at Hailey again. “Five minutes. That’s all you get.”

  Hailey waited for him to let her inside. He gave an exasperated sigh and opened the door a little wider. With a cowed sense of her own insignificance, she entered a world of vaulted ceilings, chandeliers the size of boats, and expensive-looking Persian carpets. She’d been so worried about trying to get a foot in the door; she had no idea what to say now that she was inside. No idea at all.

  Joseph crossed his arms and frowned down at her. Marion stood behind him with the precarious dignity of a woman who’d dedicated herself to drinking her troubles away. She didn’t look as angry as her husband, but she didn’t look welcoming either.

  Hailey cleared her throat. She was covered in sweat. Okay, so they weren’t going to invite her to sit down. Here was her one and only chance to make things right for her and Joshua. To secure their future together.

  If you think you can’t, Grams had told her, that’s exactly why you have to.

  Hailey looked at Joseph’s flushed face. Underneath all that gruffness there had to be something human.

  “I love your son,” she began. “I love Joshua.” Her courage faltered, but she grabbed at it. Forced it to stay. “You are Joshua’s parents, and he loves you more than he can say.”

  Joseph seemed startled by that news, as though what had recently transpired made him doubt it. How did you doubt a son’s devotion, especially a son like Joshua? But Hailey knew by the way they stared at her that her presence in their foyer made them uncomfortable. She had no time to waste.

  “You can’t go around telling people who they can or can’t love,” she said. “I don’t think we get a choice in that, do you? As for me and Joshua . . . what our hearts want is each other.”

  “Oh, come on,” Joseph scoffed. “You’re nothing but children! You don’t know what you want.”

  “Your son is old enough to drink, to vote, to fight for his country. Isn’t he old enough to know what his life should be?”

  Hailey didn’t know what she had said to put that puzzled look on Joseph’s face, but at least he wasn’t staring daggers at her now. “I know you think I’m not good enough for him,” she said, dying a little, hating that she had to be so honest. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not good enough. Heaven knows, I’m poor; my people were poor. And we sure aren’t talented at staying alive.” She swallowed over a lump in her throat before going on. “But I do know what it means to love someone. I know what it means to put their needs first. It’s why I’m here. Joshua loves you, and I love Joshua. He won’t be happy, not really, without you.”

  She felt light-headed. All these words. She’d never said so many words. Especially to people who hated her.

  Suddenly, there was a sound like a stifled sob, and Marion walked unsteadily into the living room and sank into a chair. She covered her face in her hands. Hailey didn’t know what to do or what was going on, but it dawned on her that maybe, just maybe, they finally understood what their actions had cost them.

  Hailey waited to see what might happen, too nervous to take a decent breath.

  “Do you mind waiting in the kitchen?” Joseph asked heavily. “I need a moment alone with my wife.”

  Hailey didn’t know where the kitchen was, but she took a walk anyway. Had she actually gotten through to him? She rounded the corner, found a stool next to a kitchen counter, and climbed on top of it. Her legs shook. Hope kept poking at her, but she was too much of a realist for hope. Joseph Loving was going to say “Thanks, but no thanks.” He’d be polite about it this time, but people didn’t really change, did they?

  She heard a car door slam outside and then the sound of someone coming up the steps. A key scratched at the lock. The door opened. Her heart nearly exploded out of her chest when she saw it was Joshua. He was her rumple-haired, flannel-wearing salvation.

  “Hailey?” he asked, clearly dumbfounded. “Baby, you are the last person I expected to see here.”

  * * *

  In his heart, Joshua knew. He knew.

  Hailey was here to fight for him.

  It must have gone against every instinct she had to knock on that door. He had no idea what she was doing alone in the kitchen, but seeing her filled him with so much indescribable joy, he didn’t think to ask.

  Joshua crushed her in his arms, and suddenly he could breathe again. Her hair smelled like roses, like sunshine, like her. He’d been so afraid he would never see her again, yet here she was—sitting in his parents’ kitchen no less. Every minute without her had felt like an eternity. Now he had everything he wanted.

  If Hailey never spoke to him again, he would still love her. His love had nothing to do with what she could do for him. It existed because of who she was.

  “I came back,” he said, kissing the top of her head, still holding her. “I had to make things right with my family so I could make things right with you.”

  “I know.” She raised her face to his, and her wide blue eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I was wrong to put it all on you, Joshua. Here I was asking you to go to bat for me, but I needed to go to bat for you, too. I love you so much.”

  In all the time he’d known her, Joshua had never heard her utter those words. He’d never doubted her love, but he’d never had the pleasure of hearing her say it. Warmth radiated throughout his body. He could do anything now. He felt invincible.

  His parents walked into the kitchen, clearly surprised to see him there. Joshua kept his arm around Hailey as he turned to face them.

  “I’m your family,” he said. “And Hailey is the love of my life. We’re going to find a way to work this thing out because I’m not giving up on any of you.”

  Chapter Nine

  “This is crazy,” Sam said, peering out the upstairs window of the Bluebird Inn. “I thought fairy tales weren’t real, but some fairy godmother went and turned you into a princess.”

  Hailey giggled as she adjusted her veil in the mirror. She’d been giggling a lot these last few months, but it wasn’t because she was a princess. Princesses didn’t have flakes of drywall under their nails and a blister from using the nail gun. It wasn’t because of her gorgeous, cream-colored satin wedding dress or repairing the house with Joshua and Grams or even knowing that the Lovings had accepted her as one of their own.

  It was love.

  “I gotta tell you,” Sam went on. “Weddings usually make me break out in hives. But this one . . . it’s not bad. Plus I’m the maid of honor, so bonus points for coolness. Oh, and this dress doesn’t suck.” She smoothed one hand over her pink satin bridesmaid dress and gave Hailey an endearing smile. “And then there’s the part where you two are going to be really happy.”

  “I am happy,” Hailey said. She twirled in front of the mirror just to see her dress flare out. She joined Sam at the window, her heart brimming over with excitement. The guests were already seated on folding chairs in the garden. There were so many of them—not the society people of Savannah’s wedding, but regular folk like Mr. Anders from the post office and Carolyn Birch of Phil’s Mini-Mart. Most of the people Hailey had grown up with.

  The same aqua tulle bows that had decorated Savannah’s wedding that wasn’t had been gladly repurposed for Hailey’s. Again the pavilion looked just like a birthday cake. Nothing too fancy, but everything exactly right for two people starting out in life together.

  “Did you ever in a million years think this would happen?” Sam asked her. “A few months ago, you were the help. Now you’re the bride.”

  Hailey shook her head. “I’m marrying my best friend. How many people can say that? Sure, I might pass out before I get there, but it’s still the greatest day of my life.”

  “It’s going to be wonderful.” Sam gave her a hug that was way sloppier and more emotional than Hailey had ever received from her before. Was Sam
getting sentimental? “Lord, pretty soon you’re going to make me a believer,” Sam said. “Me. The most cynical woman on earth.”

  “Hailey!” Savannah called up to her from the bottom of the stairs. After all the time Hailey had spent worrying whether asking Savannah to be a bridesmaid was cruelty or kindness, she had been touched when Savannah had said yes. “Come on down. It’s starting!”

  Nervous excitement swept over Hailey in one big gust. It carried her floating down the stairs and through a chorus of oohs and ahs that she’d usually be all embarrassed about. Joshua’s mother gave her a kiss and her bouquet of calla lilies. Grams met her in the hallway wearing a hat covered in bluebirds.

  “They’re watching, you know,” Grams whispered. “Your mother and father and Tanner. They can feel your happiness, even from heaven. It’s well deserved, my dear.”

  A violinist struck up the wedding march. Blinking back the tears, Hailey went out into the bright, flower-filled garden where Joshua waited for her in his elegant tux. She saw the look of pride and happiness on his face. And she saw something else there, too. Strength. Quiet confidence. Self-reliance. She felt it, too.

  If life brought them challenges, they would face them together. If life brought them joy, they would share that as well. But as Hailey placed her hand on his and started down the aisle, she knew deep in her heart that loving him was the finest thing she had ever done.

  Joshua was forever.

  Bachelor Honeymoon

  Janet Dailey

  Chapter One

  Dr. Chance Worthington stood in the driveway as his bride roared off on her uncle’s Ducati. He shook his head in disbelief while she vanished around the corner.

  Un-freaking believable! She’d really done it.

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Bending, he gathered up the cloud of tulle, satin, and lace that had landed at his feet. He had to hand it to her. Savannah had planned this escape and carried it out with all the finesse and timing of a prison break.

  He should have been surprised. But he wasn’t. Not really. He’d already suspected that Savannah was getting cold feet—especially after last night’s rehearsal dinner, when he’d overheard her telling a friend that she felt like she was marrying her older brother.

  His one regret was that he hadn’t called her aside and talked to her then, if not sooner. Maybe they could have avoided this last minute fiasco. But even though he and Savannah had known each other most of their lives, they were eight years apart in age. Aside from the friendship between their families, they’d never had much common ground. Even in the few months they’d dated before their engagement, they’d never really been confidantes, let alone lovers. When he’d proposed, in front of her excited family, and slipped that showy diamond ring on her finger, their kiss had felt awkward, like two actors faking it onstage.

  He’d told himself that he loved her—and he did. Savannah was a wonderful woman. She would have made the perfect doctor’s wife. Marrying her would have been the right thing to do, the next logical step in his well-ordered life. But Savannah had wanted more—and she’d had the good sense to listen to her heart. He could only wish her well.

  The scene in the garden was sheer pandemonium—guests milling about in confusion; Joe Loving cursing at his brother; the organist still fumbling the last notes of the wedding march.

  Chance was dimly aware of the women who’d swooped in to console him, patting and cooing. He knew he wouldn’t have to worry about being lonely. But it was too soon for condolences or invitations to a home-cooked dinner. He was still in a mild state of shock.

  The wedding planner, a striking brunette Chance had noticed earlier, was shouting into her headset. He assumed that she was urging everyone to calm down. But no one was paying her any attention.

  Dropping the abandoned gown on an empty chair, Chance made his way to the luncheon pavilion and headed for the bar, which had opened early. Right now, he could use a drink.

  * * *

  Wedding Planner Harper McClain had started the day with a bitch of a migraine. From there, everything had gone downhill. At 7:22 a.m. on the morning of the year’s biggest wedding, her babysitter had called in sick. With no other option, Harper had rousted her barely four-year-old twins out of bed, poured them some cereal, and sat them at the table in their booster seats while she finished her clothes and makeup.

  By the time she’d made it back to the kitchen, Jessy had spilled her milk and Jenny had upended her cereal bowl on the floor. With no time to clean up the mess, Harper had washed and brushed her whining children, stuffed them into clean play clothes and sandals, grabbed a handful of granola bars and juice boxes, and rushed them out to the car.

  With the twins buckled into their safety seats, Harper had roared out of the driveway. She’d ordered her staff to be at the Bluebird Inn at 8 a.m., ready to begin setting up for the 11 a.m. wedding ceremony. It was up to her to make sure everything was perfect and timed to the split second. And she was already running late. The digits on the dashboard clock had read 8:05, and she had still been more than twenty minutes from Serendipity.

  The migraine had progressed from its blurred visual aura to a throbbing pain in the side of her head. It hurt like blazes, but at least she could see to drive—or that’s what she’d thought until she’d caught sight of the flashing lights behind her and realized she’d just run a stop sign.

  The officer had been all business. Harper had drummed an impatient finger on the steering wheel while he checked her registration and wrote up the ticket. As soon as he’d handed it to her, she’d driven off without even checking the amount of the fine and headed for the freeway. She’d never been late on the day of a wedding, and she’d certainly never shown up at a venue with her children in tow.

  Why did it have to be today? And why did it have to be this lavish society wedding that could make or break her career?

  * * *

  Harper asked herself that same question now, as the exquisitely choreographed wedding disintegrated around her. The bride had shed her gown and fled like a biker version of Cinderella. The guests were milling like cattle about to stampede. Joe Loving was shouting at his brother. The bride’s mother looked ready to commit murder, and the owner of the Bluebird Inn was practically in tears.

  Only the jilted bridegroom looked unruffled. Harper could see him through the archway that led from the patio to the open-sided pavilion. He was sitting at the bar, sipping what looked like a brandy—a tall, cynical-looking man she hadn’t seen before today. She knew Chance Worthington was a pediatrician, and that he was from a wealthy Fort Worth family. She’d also noticed that he was smoking hot, in a James Bond kind of way. What sane woman would run away from a man like that?

  As his gaze met Harper’s across the distance, he raised his glass in a sarcastic toast, as if to show that he didn’t give a damn about what had happened.

  Maybe that was why his bride had run off and left him. Maybe he didn’t care enough, and she knew it.

  Here on the patio, some of the guests were trying to leave. One of the bridesmaids was crying hysterically. The situation was getting out of hand. Something had to be done—and since Harper was the one in charge, it was her job to do it. Trying to be heard through the mike on her headset hadn’t worked. But suddenly she had a better idea.

  In the pavilion, the quartet she’d hired was waiting on the dais for the ceremony to end, so they could start the music for the reception. Stepping into sight, she caught the wedding singer’s eye and gave her a wave. The singer returned a puzzled look, but finally nodded her understanding. A moment later, the mellow strains of “At Last” flowed into the patio.

  The buzz of conversation stilled for a moment. Heads swung. A few of the guests, then more and more of them, began migrating into the pavilion where, wedding or no wedding, there was food, drink, and entertainment to be had. At least they could enjoy a nice party.

  Harper would have stayed to do crowd control, but she’d left her twin
s in the kitchen. One of the caterering staff had promised to keep an eye on them during the ceremony, but right now, nothing was going as planned. She needed to make sure her girls were all right.

  By now the patio was almost empty. The preacher and the organist had left. The mother of the bride had vanished with the gown, and most of the guests had either headed for home or decamped to the pavilion. Wilted, trampled flowers littered the ground. One of the bride’s white satin pumps lay in the aisle. Harper picked it up and glanced around for the mate. It was nowhere to be seen.

  What a disaster—for her own career, for the Loving family, for the charming Bluebird Inn, and maybe even for the groom. Dr. Chance Worthington didn’t appear devastated. But then, he’d just been left, literally, at the altar. That had to hurt. Perhaps he was too proud to show his feelings. Or maybe her first impression of him had been right. She could see him now, still at the bar, getting cozy with a sexy-looking redhead.

  Harper dropped the shoe where she’d found it and hurried on toward the kitchen. She’d told her twins to stay in the breakfast nook, off the kitchen, and eat their snacks. She’d checked on them just before the ceremony. They’d been fine then. But now that the luncheon was on, the catering staff might be too busy to watch them closely. She could only pray that the two little munchkins had stayed put.

  A loaded dessert cart was rolling down the narrow walkway. Harper jumped aside to let it pass, then raced in through the open kitchen door. The kitchen was a scene of organized chaos, with the staff rushing to load trays and carts with last-minute hot and cold additions to the buffet. It was as she’d feared. No one here would have time to look after two curious little girls.

  Her heart sank as she peered into the breakfast nook and spotted the empty table, still littered with granola crumbs and juice boxes. Her worst fear had come to pass.