The Wedding Dress Yes (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  Book 3 Touch of Danger

  Box Set: Dangerous Love (includes Books 1 through 3)

  Christian Cozy Mysteries

  The 12 Mysteries of Christmas Multiauthor Series

  Gabriel’s Secret (Gabriel and Ava)

  Noelle on the Run (Juan and Noelle)

  Hello Crossroads Reader!

  I sincerely hope you relished the adventure of Sierra and Edgar and it made you smile. Their road to recover the wedding dress was filled with difficulties, as well as their journey to rediscover love and find the path God intended for them. It would thrill me to know their romance touched your heart. But even more, I hope this book will encourage you to walk closer with Christ. Edgar reconciled with his father, and it helped him reconcile with his Heavenly Father as he and Sierra opened their hearts to love again. Let’s all remember that the greatest love in the universe is the one the Lord gives us.

  It is now my very sincere honor to introduce the second story in this Crossroads collection, Something Borrowed, Someone Blue by the exceptionally gifted writer, Chautona Havig. I’ve met Chautona while working on a boxed set some time ago, and she always struck me as an enthusiastic, cheerful person. I’m glad I had the opportunity to work and pray with her. The more I know her, the more I’m impressed with her many talents, and the more I see what a caring person she is. First and foremost, she cares about God. She cares about her fellow authors. And she cares about her readers as she writes stories that help readers grow in their faith.

  In addition to being a great writer, Chautona has also crafted the covers for all of the Crossroads Collections (her covers are beautiful). With more than seventy published books, Chautona writes about fictional people who have real problems, weaknesses, and triumphs. Through their stories, she shares the Hope that is within her.

  In Something Borrowed, Someone Blue, a borrowed dress, half-completed marriage counseling, and a last-minute theft lead up to the big day. It seems there is plenty of stress to go around for all the family members. But for preachers, a wedding is just another day at the office, right? Chautona gives readers a rare peek into the private life and thoughts of a minister dutifully trying to shepherd his flock and lets us see what happens when his own heart becomes entangled in the process.

  Please enjoy this story of faith, hope, and unexpected love in Something Borrowed, Someone Blue.

  Alexa Verde

  Author of Season of Surprises

  a novella by

  Published By

  Copyright Notice

  Something Borrowed, Someone Blue Copyright 2019 Chautona Havig

  Kindle Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover photos:

  lighthouse/depositphotos.com,

  incomible/depositphotos.com,

  tverdohlib.com/depositphotos.com

  Cover Art: Chautona Havig

  Edited by: Haug Editing and JTW Proofing

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Scripture references are from the NASB. NASB passages are taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE (registered), Copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation

  Fiction / Christian / Romance

  Each book in this collection is the intellectual property and the copyrighted material of the respective author and/or publisher and is reprinted as a part of this collection (anthology) only once and only by permission of the owners. The publisher makes no claim on, or to, the property of the owners which exceeds that permission. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imagination or intended to be used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, places, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental and beyond the intention of either the authors or the publisher. The characters are products of the authors’ imaginations and used fictitiously.

  Three Bibles lay on his desk—all three open to the parable of the ten virgins. Beside him, a reference book on Hebrew customs and their meanings in Jesus’ parables. Before him—his notes.

  But are the foolish virgins hard ground? Stony ground? Thorny? It wasn’t the first time he’d gone over and over the passage. Hours of debates in seminary had done nothing to solidify his understanding. The problem is that most interpretations make sense.

  A knock rescued him from yet another rabbit hole dive into something he’d probably never answer to his own satisfaction. As Ty rose, he pulled out his phone and flipped through his calendar app. No appointments.

  Lara Priest stood there, shivering. “Good morning, Brother Jamison!”

  “Ty works, too, you know….” He opened the door wide and gestured for her to enter.

  She gave him a not-so-apologetic look. “Baby steps. I still have to swallow ‘pastor’ and insert brother. Maybe after that becomes second nature.”

  It didn’t make sense to him, but since she was one of the few who actually managed to remember, Ty decided not to press it. “Coffee?”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I, um…” A blush infused even more color into cheeks already reddened by the walk in the cold. “I’m actually here to see if there’s any chance you have a Friday available in June.”

  She’s asking me out? Four months in advance? Dating members of his congregation wasn’t exactly forbidden, but he’d never considered it. “I…”

  “I know. Friday is a weird day for a wedding, but Preston—he’s my fiancé—is a Seventh Day Adventist. I guess they usually don’t do weddings on Saturdays, and I know we can’t have Sunday, so I thought maybe a Friday morning wedding with lunch and an afternoon reception? That way, even if you do have a Saturday wedding, the church would be all cleaned up by Friday evening.”

  Once more, Ty floundered for words. “June, you say?”

  “Yes. It’s silly, I know, but I’ve always wanted to do the whole June wedding thing—just like my grandparents and everything—but I don’t want to wait a whole year, and neither does Preston.”

  “Four months…”

  “I know. Four months is tight, but I’ve already got calls out to caterers, a florist, and I know who I want to do my dress. Rhonda can totally pull it off—especially with London on the project.”

  Who Rhonda was, and why she’d order a dress from London for a rushed wedding, Ty couldn’t imagine, but Lara’s repeated question about potential dates derailed his thoughts. “Let me check the church calendar….”

  Ty offered her a chair and moved to view his monitor. A few clicks of the mouse brought up the calendar, and a click on “Weddings” brought up which ones were booked when and by whom. “My biggest concern,” he explained, “is that people tend to decorate on Thursday or Friday nights and then do the final floral decor when it arrives on the day of the wedding.”

  “I was going to pay someone to come in and do all the cleanup. I wanted to be done by five so that if there was a rehearsal for someone else, we’d be cleaned up by say seven?”

  You’ve thought this out, haven’t you? With names of couples in hand, Ty pulled out his notebook and looked up each one until he found the one he’d thought might be June. “How does the twenty-eighth sound?”

  The way she lit up at that gave a hint of the radiant bride she’d be. “Really? You have something?”

  “A couple coming down from Stoneyhill. They’ll do a rehearsal when they arrive, while friends decorate the
hall. The bride can’t get off work until Friday night late, so…” Ty grinned as she jogged her feet and squealed in her seat. “Is that a yes to the date?”

  “A total yes! Thank you!”

  Throat constricting, heart pounding, Ty couldn’t have hidden his dread if he’d tried, but still, he had to ask. “And does… Preston?”

  Again with the blushes. “St. James, yes.”

  “Right, Preston…” Recognition scaled his voice to a pitch he hadn’t produced since the onset of puberty. “St. James?”

  Lara nodded. “Can you believe it?”

  This he had to hear. “Spill it, Lara.”

  With the giddiness of a teen herself, Lara scooted forward, hands stuffed between her knees, and began. “Well, see, he started coming into the restaurant back in October. The first ghost story competition, in fact. Then he came every Thursday until Thanksgiving. He came back on the Monday after and asked me out. Last night…” She pulled her left hand from between her knees and showed a ring so large it almost looked fake.

  Kind of fast, but…

  “I told him that I wanted to get married here—with my minister officiating.”

  “That means a lot since I’ve hardly known you much longer than he has.” A spark of excitement lit a fire inside him. Finally. I will finally perform a wedding for someone who is actually a member of my congregation!

  “What’s wrong? I know it’s fast,” she rushed on, not giving him a chance to answer. “But we really have spent a lot of time together, and Preston’s pastor gave us his blessing before Preston even proposed.”

  “Will you be…” What should he ask? Did one “convert” to Adventism like one might Catholicism or Reformed theology? Ty couldn’t remember much about his studies on Adventists. “Attending church with him in the future?”

  This time, Lara’s blush hinted that she’d expected this question. “Until one or the other of us decides, in good conscience, that we can change where we worship, we’ll each be continuing to attend our respective churches.” She glanced at her watch. “Um, is it going to be a problem? I really have to get to the restaurant, but I wanted to rush over first thing and try to snag a date if there was one.”

  “The twenty-eighth, then?” Ty added the wedding into the church calendar and rotated the monitor so she could see.

  “Oh, thank you! And you’ll do it? I’ll probably ask his pastor to say a prayer or read a Scripture or something, but I really wanted you.”

  Ty rose and moved to walk her to the door. He gave her a hug and nodded at the pointed questioning look she gave him. “Of course. Actually, I’m thrilled that I’ll finally have a wedding for one of my members. I thought it would be Mitchell and Brenna, but…” He grinned. “I suppose you’ll do in a pinch.”

  “Great! I’ll call you and set up counseling later?”

  “I was just going to suggest it.”

  He walked with her as far as the chapel and waved until she’d reached the street. Inside, he gazed around the sanctuary, imagining tulle and satin, flowers and candles, and guests. With the St. Jameses coming, it would be packed.

  From the front, he gazed out over the imaginary congregation and down the aisle to the back doors. Someone would fling them open. Lara would step into view on the arm of her… father? He wasn’t certain. She’d wear white. Lara was too traditional for even a pale pink contrast somewhere.

  Maybe ivory, though. With her blonde hair and the warm tones of her skin… Ivory. Perhaps it wasn’t manly of him to know about such things, but after nearly a wedding every weekend of the year, he’d learned a thing or two about colors, shades, and hues. And way more about flowers than he’d ever wanted to know.

  Still, if the interior decor changes at The Birches restaurant could be attributed to Lara’s influence, it would be a stunning wedding. He guessed live music—maybe a harpist or a cellist. Both…

  Preston St. James would probably be misty-eyed at the sight of his beautiful bride. Most men were. Although, a significant number tried to hide it.

  Once more, he gazed out over an imaginary congregation. “Friends and family, we’ve all come here to celebrate….”

  A contented sigh escaped, and Ty jogged back down the steps of the dais and knelt at the first pew. Time to pray for another marriage. If only all his prayers were about such happy occasions.

  With the tap of a finger, “Londonderry Air” played on a harp, cello, and oboe filled the dining room at The Birches. Lara dragged the slider to lower the volume, closed her eyes, listened, and scooched it a bit more to the left. “Perfect.”

  Candle lighter in hand, she swept the perimeter of the room, lighting the all-glass lanterns on each table and taking note of what the waitstaff needed to address. Only the “deuces” around the edge of the room offered candlelight—a nod to romance. Of course, the occasional business meals that only required a table for two probably would have preferred overhead lighting, but there wasn’t any, and when Lara took over the management of The Birches in September, she’d simply rearranged the room to turn a liability into an advantage.

  Her hostess burst in from the kitchen, reservation book in hand, and waved. “Carlo needs you in the kitchen. Something about bad shrimp.”

  “I don’t need this…!” Despite her wail, Lara breathed deep, calmed herself, and strode into the kitchen with what she hoped was a confident, unconcerned air. “You asked for me, Carlo?”

  “Where did you get this junk?” He flicked a finger at the day’s fresh shrimp and turned away as if to ensure the pile of crustaceans would feel his disdain.

  I will not fire him for being an overly-dramatic prima donna. I will not fire—

  “You cannot expect me to work in these conditions.”

  Why does everything you say sound like it was ripped from a B movie? Of course, saying that wouldn’t do her any good, so Lara played the game… just as she always did. “Look, Carlo. You’re a genius. If our usually excellent supplier brought sub-par shrimp, then the ocean doesn’t have enough junk at the bottom to give us the quality we need. Work your magic so the customers don’t know it.”

  The moment Carlo threw up his hands and turned, Lara knew the day’s drama had ended. I predict the salad greens tomorrow—all wilted and inedible.

  A voice called out, “Mr. St. James is here….”

  Lara pulled out her phone and zipped a text message to Jenni at the hostess stand. Are all deuces reserved all night?

  The moment a response in the negative arrived, Lara pushed through the doors to the dining room. Preston rose when he saw her approach. “Lara…”

  His kiss—more continental than affectionate—she expected. “Let’s move you to this one up here, and you can stay as long as you like at it.” She looped an arm through his. “We got the church.”

  “We did? How—?”

  Sitting opposite him, Lara allowed him to capture her hands before she reminded him that few people needed the church for Friday weddings. “And since it’s on the twenty-eighth, we’re not even going to conflict with the next wedding. They won’t arrive until the next day—sounds like an evening wedding.”

  “We can’t have people cleaning after sundown, Lara. I know you’re not used—”

  “I already took care of it. We’ll have a crew there by five o’clock, and they’ll have everything done by seven—eight at the latest.”

  A lock of hair that had plagued her all afternoon finally slipped free and dangled about her jaw. Lara would have tucked it behind her ear, but Preston frowned. “You really should pin that up well. People don’t like hair in their food.”

  “I don’t serve food.” The retort flew out before Lara could stop herself. As Preston’s jaw clenched, she gave his hand a squeeze. “But I do need to get it out of my face before our first reservations arrive.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  The first diners wouldn’t arrive for half an hour at least, but Lara rose to take care of it before he became stressed out about it. Three steps from
the table, she remembered Carlo. Turning, she caught his admiring gaze and smiled. “By the way, Carlo is flipping out about the shrimp, so I’d order that. It’ll be amazing tonight.”

  A scowl had barely formed when Preston rearranged his features to patient resignation. “Lara, shellfish—I don’t eat it.”

  “Oh, right.” She felt her cheeks flame as she turned to hurry away. “Sorry. Habit.”

  By the time she returned, Preston had a glass of lemon water before him, and he looked more relaxed. A glance at her hair was all it took for him to nod his approval. “You’re a wonder. Just a minute or two, and you’ve recreated perfection.” As Lara seated herself, he added, “My behavior was inexcusable. I apologize. You looked lovely, and I…” Lips tight, he shook his head and refused to continue.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I agreed. It had to be done.” A glance at her phone told Lara she only had only a couple of minutes before the deluge of questions and problems began. “So, June twenty-eighth! I can’t believe we got June!”

  “I was still hoping for April or May.”

  “There’s no way I could get even a simple wedding planned and executed by April. It’ll be hard enough with June. More like having a part-time job.”

  Preston leaned forward and murmured, “You must save some time for me.” As his thumb caressed the back of her hand, he added, “I don’t want to play second fiddle to an event.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll need lots of help making sure I don’t do anything that’ll offend your family.”

  “You make us sound like hyper-sensitive ogres, Lara.”

  “No!” She steadied herself with a deep, calming breath and tried again. “It’s just that I know you have spiritual convictions that I might not know about yet. I don’t want to be insensitive to that.” With assurances that all she had to do was ask still ringing in her ears, Lara decided she’d better confirm that date. “And June twenty-eighth isn’t a problem? You said a Friday was okay as long as everything was done by sundown…”