A Wedding on Bluebird Way

by Lori Wilde

The pavilion had been erected on grass, which would have been rough going for the casters under the table. Still, Harper had no way of knowing whether what happened next was an accident or a deliberate move on Chance’s part.

  The front casters seemed to sink into the grass. The table pitched forward far enough to let the cake slide off and topple to the ground in a glorious splatter of icing, cake, and flowers.

  As the wedding guests gasped, Chance turned around and walked away.

  Chapter Three

  The expression on Harper’s face was worth whatever he’d done, Chance thought as he strode away from the crumbling remains of the wedding cake. She was staring at him in wide-eyed astonishment. Had it sunk in that he’d just saved her from paying a thousand dollars for a silly cake—an amount that was pocket change to the Loving family?

  Maybe not yet. But dumping that cake was as close as he could come to slaying a dragon for her. And it was just possibly the best thing he could have done for himself. After the ego-bruising he’d suffered at the altar, it had felt damned good, like throwing a rock through the schoolhouse window. There was a spring to his step as he walked back to where Harper stood with her twins and ushered them back to the garden, where the flowers had been swept up and the pergola was being taken down.

  “I can’t believe what I just saw,” she said. “Either you’re very clumsy or you’re out of your mind.”

  He gave her a schoolboy grin. “Maybe both. You’ll never know for sure. But at least you’re off the hook for the cake.”

  She was trying not to laugh, but lost the battle. Her laughter was musical. Her dark mocha eyes sparkled. Her luscious lips were so tempting that Chance could almost taste them.

  But this was crazy. He was feeling like a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old. He’d loved Savannah, admired and respected her, and had wanted to give her a happy life. But the heat had never been there for him. Clearly, it hadn’t been there for Savannah either.

  But now that heat was burning him alive. He was in all-out lust for a woman he’d barely met.

  A woman who came in a package deal with two adorable little monsters.

  Whoa! Slow down! Chance told himself. Get her phone number—she’s probably got a business card. Think it over for a couple of weeks. If you haven’t come to your senses by then, give her a call.

  “I suppose I should thank you,” she said.

  “No need. Maybe everything worked out for the best.”

  “The best?” One delicate eyebrow shot up. “Your bride ran away; the wedding cost the family a fortune, all for nothing. My daughters ruined the cake, you finished it off, and if the Lovings aren’t happy with my part in all this, I may never work in Texas again. And you say it’s for the best?”

  “Sorry. I’m just trying to put things in perspective. If Savannah was going to leave me, better now than after a messy divorce.”

  Harper shook her head, making it clear what she thought of his logic. “I need to get back to my job,” she said. “The wedding may be over for you, but I can’t go home until everything’s in order. Thank you for finding my daughters. Come on, girls, let’s go. I’ll make you peanut butter sandwiches in the kitchen.” She turned away, took a small hand in each of hers, and headed for the kitchen door. One of the twins strained to look back at him with her mother’s heart-melting brown-eyed gaze.

  Let her go, he told himself. Today was no time to stumble into a new relationship. And, even if it was, the last thing he’d ever wanted was a ready-made family—or even the challenge of juggling private time with a single mother’s busy schedule. Several attractive moms of his young patients had made it clear that they were interested. He’d never taken the bait, not even once.

  Every sober, sensible instinct he possessed told him this wasn’t a good idea.

  So why was he so determined to keep her from walking out of his life?

  * * *

  “Wait!” he called after her. At the sound of his voice, Harper glanced back. So did her daughters.

  “You don’t have to settle for peanut butter sandwiches,” he said. “There’s plenty of good food on the buffet table. I know you won’t want to take the girls over there, but I can fill some plates for you. The three of you can have a picnic in the peach orchard. How does that sound?”

  Harper would have made an excuse and kept walking away. The man was too charming to be trusted. That he seemed to be pursuing her on what would have been his wedding day was the ultimate red flag. Chance Worthington was heartbreak on a silver platter.

  At least he hadn’t included himself in the picnic invitation. Nice touch, but she wasn’t fooled. She didn’t want to owe him any more favors.

  However, the word “picnic” hadn’t been lost on her daughters. They were jumping up and down, tugging at the hem of her jacket. “Please, Mommy! It would be so much fun!”

  How could she say no?

  She turned back with a sigh. “Oh, all right. I know you two are hungry.”

  The twins let go of her and raced back to Chance. Heaven help her, the man was like the Pied Piper. Jessy and Jenny barely knew him, and they were already under his spell. But then, he was a pediatrician, Harper reminded herself. He’d had plenty of practice charming young children.

  That didn’t mean that she was taken in, too.

  “So what would you like?” he asked them. “I think I saw some fried chicken on the buffet table. Does that sound good?”

  Both twins nodded an enthusiastic yes.

  “And you should probably have some vegetables. What’s your favorite?”

  “’Sparagus,” said Jessy.

  “Carrots,” Jenny said.

  “And you?” He looked at Harper. “I’ll bet you haven’t eaten all day.”

  “Just some salad, thanks,” Harper said. “And you don’t really have to do this.”

  “Nonsense. It’s my pleasure. Find a nice, shady spot, and the food will be on its way.”

  * * *

  Chance had already decided not to join the picnic. He knew enough to back off before his company became intrusive. Harper needed a break. So did he. And before he could move past what had happened today, there was something he had to do.

  In the pavilion, the serving crew was already cleaning up the cake. The musicians were winding down. Many of the guests were leaving, or had already gone. But there was enough food left on the buffet table to fill the order that Chance gave to one of the servers. He slipped the young man a generous tip to load a tray, carry it to the orchard along with a picnic cloth for Harper and her girls, and clear away the meal when they were finished.

  That done, Chance walked back toward the house.

  Savannah’s parents were still at the inn. He’d noticed their car in one of the guest parking slots a little earlier. Chance guessed that they’d probably retreated to the bridal suite.

  As he crossed the lobby and mounted the stairs to the second-floor room, he wondered what to say to them. It had been Savannah’s decision to run away and ruin the wedding. But some of the blame had to be his. Whatever she’d wanted from him, and from their marriage, he had failed to give it to her.

  He walked down the hall to the suite door and rapped lightly.

  “Who’s there?” Joe Loving’s low voice rasped with annoyance. “If that’s you, Tom, you can go to hell. I don’t have a damn thing to say to you.”

  “It’s Chance, Joe. I just want to talk.”

  The door opened a few inches. “Keep it down. My wife’s asleep in the next room.”

  “We could go down to the bar,” Chance suggested.

  “No. I don’t want to run into my brother. I might be tempted to punch him for giving Savannah the keys to that damned Ducati.” Joe opened the door wider. “Come on in, if you don’t mind whispering. Marion cried her eyes out over this mess. Said she’d never be able to face her friends again. It was a blessing when she finally wore herself out and went to sleep. She needs some rest before we head back home.”

  Chance step
ped into the small sitting room. The place was in mild disarray, an open suitcase on the floor and Savannah’s rumpled gown flung over a chair. A half-emptied bottle of bourbon stood on a side table. Joe poured two fingers into a glass and handed it to Chance. He was a big man, his powerful presence filling the room. “Sit down. I’m guessing you might need this.”

  “Thanks.” Chance took it and lowered himself into a chair. “Have you heard from Savannah?”

  “Not a word. And she’s not answering her phone—if she’s even got it on her. I’m damned sorry about this, Chance. We were looking forward to having you in the family.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. I’m just wondering if it could’ve been mine. Did she say anything to you before the ceremony?”

  “Just that she wasn’t ready to get married. Nothing about you. Why, did you have a fight?”

  “We never fought. We never even argued.” Maybe that was part of the problem, Chance thought. No fire. No emotion. Everything between them had been polite—and superficial, he realized. They’d known each other for years; yet they hardly knew each other at all.

  “I thought you’d be the perfect husband for her,” Joe said. “Not only because of your family connections, but because you’re older and wiser. You could control her and settle her down, help her grow up. Give her some kids to take care of.”

  Chance had swallowed his bourbon too fast. He stifled a cough as it burned down his throat. “I’m sorry things had to happen this way, Joe,” he said. “Believe me, the one thing I care about is Savannah’s happiness. I would never have forced her to marry me if she was having second thoughts.”

  “Neither would I. But the fool girl doesn’t know her own mind. Tomorrow, after throwing away a sixty thousand dollar wedding, she could decide she wants you after all. If she were to do that, would you forgive her and take her back?”

  It was a sobering question. A vision of Harper’s lovely, vulnerable face flashed in Chance’s mind—a face he would have to choose never to see again. “That would depend on a lot of things,” he said. “But I can’t imagine Savannah’s changing her mind about marrying me. Not after what she did today.”

  “You could phone her. Maybe she’d answer if it was you. And if you really opened up about your feelings, maybe she’d listen to you and come back.”

  “Sorry, that’s her call, not mine.” Chance had heard and said all he needed to. He stood, leaving the half-emptied glass on the side table. “I won’t keep you any longer. I just wanted you to know there are no hard feelings on my part.”

  He offered his hand; the two shook, and it was done. Chance strode back down the hall, his step lightened by relief. He wasn’t the one who’d made Savannah run, he told himself. It was the pressure from her family. It was the expectations that would be thrust upon her as Mrs. Chance Worthington.

  Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe it really was him—his age, his superior attitude, his staid manner, and his bachelor lifestyle.

  He couldn’t blame Savannah for shedding her gown and jumping on that motorcycle. Given her choices, he would have run away himself.

  Walking back outside, he found himself wondering whether he was a fit life partner for any woman. At thirty-three, he liked a steady routine and an orderly life. His townhouse was kept spotless by weekly visits from a cleaning service. He had his favorite foods, his favorite TV programs, his favorite vacation spots. And when he wanted an occasional bed partner, with no strings attached, he knew some sharp women who were open for a little fun—not that he’d contacted any of them since his engagement.

  But Harper wasn’t a candidate for the occasional bed partner slot. She had two messy, noisy, adorable little complications who couldn’t be ignored. And he could tell she was a good mother. Whatever happened, whatever plans he might like to make for the two of them, her children would always come first.

  If he had any sense, he’d go out to his car, drive away from the Bluebird Inn, and never look back. He had first-class airline tickets and beach house reservations for a planned honeymoon in Maui. With his practice closed for two weeks, he could go solo and still have a relaxing time.

  Or he could forget the trip, walk back to the hillside, and take a chance on pursuing Harper.

  Chance shook his head. He’d be crazy to throw away a five-star Hawaiian vacation he’d already paid for. He could get a tan, walk on the beach, polish his rusty surfing skills, and take some time to get his head on straight. Maybe then he’d be ready to come home and phone the beautiful wedding planner. Or not.

  The flight to Hawaii was scheduled for early tomorrow. He and Savannah had planned to spend their wedding night in the luxury suite of a nearby hotel and take a limo to the airport the next morning. The trip wouldn’t be quite like the one he’d planned, but after this crazy day, he could use some R & R.

  The decision to go was a no-brainer. But only a jerk would walk away and leave Harper wondering where he’d gone and why he’d disappeared. The least he could do was find her and tell her good-bye.

  Now, through the blossoming trees in the orchard, he could see Harper and her twins. Harper was sitting up with a headset on. The little girls were curled next to her on the picnic cloth. They appeared to be fast asleep.

  As he came up the hill, she gave him a look of weary relief. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said. “I need one more favor, if you wouldn’t mind. I’ve been trying to manage things from here, but I need to go back to the garden and make sure everything is shipshape. The girls are exhausted. They’ll be cranky if I have to wake them. Would you mind staying here for about fifteen minutes to keep an eye on them? I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.” Sparing a few minutes to help her wouldn’t be a problem. He had plenty of time to make it to the hotel and check in for his morning flight. He would tell her about his plans when she came back.

  “Thanks. I’ve already imposed on you too much. This will be the last time, I promise.”

  “No problem. We’ll be fine. Now get going.” He sat down on the picnic cloth next to the sleeping twins, enjoying the view of her sexy, high-heeled stride as she hurried off.

  Jessy and Jenny—he had no idea which was which—were slumbering like little angels. But all children looked angelic in their sleep, he reminded himself. These two, as he’d already learned, could be a handful. He could only hope they wouldn’t wake up until their mother returned.

  Even on the shady side of the hill, the afternoon sun was warm. Bees buzzed among the blossoms. Birds called from the trees. From beyond the orchard, Chance could hear the sound of workers taking down the pavilion. The pergola and chairs were already gone from the garden. Soon this place would look as if nothing had happened here today.

  But lives had been changed forever.

  One of the twins stirred, opened her chocolate-drop eyes, and saw him. She smiled and sat up. “Hi,” she said.

  Her sister sat up, too, yawning and looking a little less friendly. “What are you doing here? Where’s our mommy?”

  “She had to work,” Chance said. “But she’ll be back in a few minutes. She asked me to stay with you.”

  “Are you our babysitter?” the sleepy twin asked.

  “He’s the doctor. Remember? The one who dropped the cake?”

  “Oh.” The sleepy twin brightened. They sat gazing up at him like two alert puppies. “Why did you drop the cake?”

  “So you and your sister wouldn’t get blamed for ruining it,” Chance said. “And so your mom wouldn’t have to pay for it. All right?

  “Now, I’ve got a question for you two. I know your names are Jenny and Jessy, but you look just alike. How does your mother tell you apart?”

  “It’s easy for Mom. She knows us, even in the dark.”

  “But how can I tell you apart?”

  “Easy. Look at our teeth when we smile.”

  Chance studied the two little grinning mouths. One of the twins had perfectly straight baby teeth. The other twin had a tiny gap between
her two incisors.

  “Jenny doesn’t have a space. I do,” said the twin with the gap.

  “So you’re Jessy. Jessy with s’s for ‘space.’ And Jenny with n’s for ‘no space.’”

  The girls giggled. Chance hadn’t been sure his logic would make sense to them, but they must’ve learned the alphabet and how to write their names, because they clearly thought it was funny.

  “You’re really smart,” said Jenny.

  “Doctors have to be smart,” said Jessy. “They have to know the names of all the bones.”

  “So how can I tell you apart if you aren’t smiling?” Chance asked.

  The girls giggled again. “You have to tell us a joke,” said Jenny. “If we laugh, you can see our teeth.”

  Chance had to smile. Harper’s children were bright, charming little imps. But he knew better than to be taken in by them. All children had their dark sides—their messy, noisy, cranky, demanding sides. And his “doctor’s office” manner was just that. In real life, he was just a man who wanted peace and quiet.

  “Look!” Jessy pointed. “Here comes Mommy!”

  Chance breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Harper was hurrying toward them, her high heels digging into the grass. Jessy jumped up and raced to meet her. Partway, the little girl stopped and crumpled forward with a heartbreaking wail.

  * * *

  “What is it?” Heart lurching, Harper rushed toward her daughter. Chance jumped to his feet and came pounding down the path. They reached her at the same time.

  “What is it, honey?” Harper looked her daughter over. She could see no blood or any sign of broken bones, but something serious had just happened.

  “My foot! Owee!” Still wailing, Jessy held up her leg. Cradling her foot, Chance pulled off her open sandal. An angry red lump was rising on the side of her foot.

  Chance bent closer. “It looks like a wasp or a bee sting. She isn’t allergic, is she?”

  “Not that I know of.” Harper remembered horror stories of allergic children going into anaphylactic shock from stings. “How would we know? She’s never been stung before.”

  “You’d know it right away if she was. But she looks okay,” Chance said. “Right now, we’ve got to get that stinger out. Hold her still.”