by Liz Johnson
She pulled away just enough to stare into his eyes, hers flashing bright. “That song was about me.”
“They’re all about you.”
“Even that terrible ‘Good-bye, Girl’?”
He chuckled. “Especially that one. But I’m going to have to add a new verse. The Good-bye Girl has come back.”
She snuggled into his embrace, her gaze following the light to a spot past the shore. “And I’m back to stay.”
His entire body stiffened. He hadn’t thought. Hadn’t counted on that. The sudden realization that she could have left, that her life was elsewhere, tore him open. “Are you sure? What will you do?”
“Well, as it turns out, Kane Dairy has a lovely new event facility.” With a coy smile she kissed him on the cheek. “I’m thinking it’s in need of a venue manager.”
His stomach dropped and then did a barrel roll. “Because you’re going to stay here. With me. No matter what people say?”
She didn’t even tense in his arms. She just sighed, melting into him. “People will always talk about something. And if it’s going to be me? Well, I’d rather they talk about how often I smile because I’m with the man I love.”
“Fair enough.” He kissed her again, holding her close and knowing that someday he’d get to make his mom’s dream a reality. When Natalie married in the old Kane barn, she was going to marry a Kane man.
Because he wasn’t going to let her go again. Ever.
His heart thudded beneath her hand on his chest, and he locked his arms around her waist, savoring the sweetness of her lips and the citrus scent around her.
When she finally pulled away to steal a ragged breath, she said, “So, you never said if you’ll forgive me. I dragged you through a lot.”
With a smile and another squeeze, he said, “Lady, I will always forgive you.”
Epilogue
TEN MONTHS LATER
The spring air was still cool, and deep gray clouds hung low over the shoreline. But Natalie Joy O’Ryan didn’t care. Not in the slightest.
Nothing could put a damper on this day. Her day.
Well, Justin’s too, if she was being fair about it. But he’d told her it could be all about her. And Marie had said so too. Even Caden had agreed that the cake should be her choice.
Of course, she already knew Justin’s preference. Lemon raspberry, rich enough to curl his hair. That feat wasn’t so difficult, as he’d kept his hair short for almost a year. Which she didn’t mind at all. It was easier to run her fingers through it. Which he didn’t seem to mind either.
“Oh, Natalie!”
She froze at the cry of her name but smiled when she caught sight of Marie and Caden across the floor of the barn, Caden’s hands at her cheeks.
“You look amazing!”
Natalie glanced down at the big plaid shirt she’d borrowed—actually stolen—from her fiancé before a bubble of laughter escaped. “I don’t even have my dress on yet.” But it didn’t stop her from pressing a gentle hand to her loose updo. A few curls had been pulled free by the April breeze, and she tucked them back into place.
Marie looped a soft arm around the baby hanging from the carrier on her front, and the little one wiggled, his pajama-clad legs pushing against his mom. “You’re practically glowing. Like maybe it’s your special day. Like you’ve been waiting awhile for this day. I know someone else who has too.”
A swarm of monarchs fluttered to life inside her. No one even had to say his name to set them loose, and she stared into the cathedral ceiling to keep the tears that threatened at bay. Fanning her face with her hands, she said, “You can’t say things like that. Nothing sweet. Nothing kind. You’ll ruin my makeup.” To prove her point, she pressed a knuckle to her bottom lid, and it came away with a smudge of black. “See what you’ll make me do.”
Caden chuckled, reaching out her left hand, and the twinkling lights wrapped around the ceiling beams caught on the diamond there, sparking it to life with a full rainbow of colors.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to laugh, missy. Your day isn’t far off.”
Cheeks turning pink, Caden ducked her head. “It’s still a little ways away. Besides, I have to finish up the school term.” She and Adam had flown back to the island from Toronto for a long weekend just for the wedding. The next time they came back, they’d be saying their own vows, celebrating their own marriage in this very barn, which had already booked an event for every weekend of the summer, most of them in conjunction with Rose’s Red Door Inn.
Natalie let her gaze wander from her friend’s sweet smile to the tables adorned with the kerosene lamps and lavender tablecloths she’d so loved the first time she’d decorated this space. The hanging twinkle lights and seashells were the same too. But now there were only five tables of eight—a small affair for close friends.
She didn’t care how many people were here. As long as Justin met her at the end of the aisle.
“Hurry up, Kathleen.”
“You hold your horses, Aretha Franklin. I’m the mother of the groom, and I won’t be rushed.”
“Then you’ll delay your own son’s wedding.” Aretha looked up just as she and Mama Kane stepped inside the barn, a chagrined smile falling into place.
Natalie pressed her hand over her mouth, trying not to smudge her lipstick. But she couldn’t hold back the giggle as the two women sashayed in. They each carried a box of flowers—bouquets, boutonnieres, and centerpieces—despite their official mother-of-the-bride and mother-of-the-groom dresses.
Aretha had refused to let Natalie order her flowers from Lois Bernard. “Not after the hateful things she said about … well, you know.”
And everyone did. Lois had been quick to speculate on why Russell had left the island in such a hurry. He probably realized he wanted no connection to the O’Ryans after meeting Rick, she’d suggested to anyone who would listen. Except there weren’t many people willing to listen. And she’d realized that quickly.
“But she apologized,” Natalie had said to Aretha. She could never remember Lois breaking ranks, but she’d marched across the floor of Grady’s Diner last fall, bowed her head, and eaten a full slice of humble pie. And what was more, Natalie had realized she wanted to forgive her. After all, if she could forgive her father, couldn’t she forgive a sad, lonely florist too?
Aretha and Mama Kane hadn’t been so easily persuaded, instead driving to another florist halfway across the county to pick up the flowers for the wedding.
Now Natalie hurried to their side, Marie and Caden in tow, and reached for a box, but Aretha refused to give hers up. “I’m just fine, thank you very much.”
“But you have responsibilities today.” Natalie gave her a hesitant smile.
Aretha nearly glowed as she hugged the cardboard box even tighter. “And I wouldn’t miss them for the world. I’ve never gotten to be the mother of the bride before.”
Those pesky tears came back in force, and Natalie had to tilt her head back, refusing to blink or risk setting them free and streaking her face.
She had been terrified to ask, afraid Aretha would think her silly. She was thirty-three years old and hadn’t had a mother in a lot longer than hers had been gone.
“You might have heard …” Natalie had said.
“Oh?” Aretha played coy.
“Justin and I are getting married. And … well … I was wondering if you’d be the mother of the bride? My mother?”
Aretha’s eyes grew wide, her tinted lips falling open. Natalie feared the dismissal that was sure to come. Why on earth did she need a mother of the bride? She steeled herself for the laughter.
Instead she was swallowed in a hug that threatened to steal her breath. “Of course I’ll be your mother. Anytime you want me to be. And even if you don’t.”
Natalie had wept into Aretha’s embrace then, and the tears didn’t want to stop now.
“Stay strong, girl. Or you’ll have to redo your makeup.” Despite her firm words, Aretha’s eyes glistened with the
same memory.
Natalie nodded as little Jack Sloane gave a grunt and shifted in his carrier, earning a series of quick pats on the back from his mother. “Stay asleep just a little longer,” she whispered. “I need you to be ready for another nap in a couple hours. Please, sleep through the ceremony.”
All the women cooed at the little guy, his upturned nose and puckered lips as cute as could be.
“I think he’s more likely to delay the wedding than I am,” Mama Kane said, and they all laughed before setting about unloading the boxes.
“What are you doing, Natalie?”
She looked up from where she’d placed a simple orchid arrangement beside a lamp.
Aretha motioned toward the door. “You’ve got to get dressed.”
“But I’m the bride. Everyone will wait for me.”
“And do you want to wait a minute longer than you must to marry Justin?”
Joy bubbled over inside her as she raced for the exit. “Not even a second.”
Two hours later Natalie took a deep breath as Jack walked her back into the barn, around the reception area, and through a veil of lights. As she stepped onto the other side to the gentle strain of Jordan’s fiddle, her breath hitched and her foot caught on the hem of her white mermaid gown.
There he was, the man who knew her best and worst and loved her anyway. Justin’s gunmetal suit hugged his broad shoulders, sleek and dapper, but she wouldn’t have cared if he’d shown up in flannel and Levis. The longing in his eyes was all she’d dreamed of. All she needed.
Suddenly he seemed so far away, and she wasn’t sure her legs could carry her all the way down the red runner. But she couldn’t not make it.
She clung to Jack’s elbow as they strolled past several church friends before reaching Caden and Adam, who offered her a true smile, assuring her there were no hard feelings. Marie and Seth sat in the same row, little Jack sleeping soundly in his dad’s arms. And if Natalie didn’t know any better, she’d have thought she saw a tear sliding down Marie’s cheek.
Then came Mama Kane and Harrison side by side, her hands clasped around his steadying one. To her left Aretha sat beside Jack’s empty seat.
And Rick O’Ryan, in his best Sunday suit, sat on Aretha’s other side. His smile wide and his eyes bright, he nodded her on, as though encouraging her to make and keep the sacred vows. Each day she chose to forgive him. And while they weren’t close, she was grateful for the relationship that had developed between them.
Eye to eye with Father Chuck, she couldn’t risk looking at Justin this close. She couldn’t risk the rush of sweet emotions that had been so near the surface all day. But when he wrapped his hand around hers, she couldn’t avoid looking into his eyes. They were so sure. He was so firm.
I love you.
He mouthed the words, and they rang in her head like the sweetest refrain. A promise that he’d protect her and cherish her. Always.
As she slipped into place at the front of the aisle, her heart stuttered, then slammed against her breastbone.
She’d thought it was safe to come back to the island. She’d thought it was safe to return to these gentle shores. She’d thought it was safe to stay at Rose’s Red Door Inn.
She’d been so wrong.
This wasn’t safe. It wasn’t easy.
It was so much better than that.
Acknowledgments
There are too many people involved in the process of creating this book to possibly thank them all. From the cashier at my local Panda Express to the guys who take care of my lawn so I can immerse myself in an always perfectly manicured island. And, of course, the readers who send notes of encouragement. You are infinitely appreciated. The few others I know by name are:
Jessica Patch and Jill Kemerer. You’re the sweetest, most encouraging friends, and I’m grateful that God brought you into my life and my writing journey. Jessica, thank you for brainstorming this book with me. Mama Cheese Sandwich wouldn’t have made it to the page without you.
Amy Haddock and Michelle Ule, red-pen wielders and first-draft readers. Thanks for making my book so much better than it was.
Rachel Kent, the best cheerleader, advice giver, and agent this author could ask for. I’m so glad that we met all those years ago and kept bumping into each other at the conference bookstore. I knew you had good taste in books then.
Vicki, Michele, Karen, Hannah, Jessica, and Cheryl, the incredible team at Revell. Thank you for bringing this book to life with such thought and care. I thank God that I get to work with all of you.
The whole Johnson/Whitson clan, who helped me move across the country and set up my new home while writing this book. I’d still be up to my ears in boxes and stuck on chapter 12 if it weren’t for you all. Thanks for welcoming me home with open arms and such joy.
And most of all, thank you to my heavenly Father, who surprised me with another story about fathers and daughters and forgiveness. I’m so grateful to be on this writing adventure with you.
Liz Johnson fell in love with Prince Edward Island the first time she set foot on it. When she’s not plotting her next trip to the island, she works as a full-time director of marketing. She finds time to write late at night and is the author of twelve novels, a New York Times bestselling novella, and a handful of short stories. She makes her home in Tucson, Arizona, where she enjoys exploring the area’s history, attending local theater, and doting on her five nieces and nephews.
Books by Liz Johnson
The Red Door Inn
Where Two Hearts Meet
On Love’s Gentle Shore
LizJohnsonBooks.com
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