by Gina Wilkins
“I’ll be sure and quote you on that,” he said gravely.
“You do that.” She stood back from tying the last jaunty bow to run a critical eye around the room. “Everything’s looking good, Bonnie.”
“It looks as if it was decorated for a birthday party for a princess-obsessed five-year-old,” Rhoda muttered. “But it’s exactly what Miz Sossaman wants, I guess.”
“Rhoda,” Bonnie chided. She and Kinley both had to remind their employee frequently to be tactful and circumspect in front of guests. Rhoda should understand that included the writer who was here to profile the inn.
Kinley glanced at her watch. “I should get ready for my meeting. Cassie Drennan and her fiance are supposed to be here soon. Bonnie, you know where to find me if you need me. Dan—”
“I think I’ll walk down to the cafe to try that pie Mary bragged about yesterday, and then I’ll spend a couple hours writing in my room,” he said. “Can I bring you anything?”
“Thanks, but I’ll find something in the kitchen after my meeting.”
He nodded. “So I’ll look you up later.”
Not quite meeting his eyes, she nodded.
The office opened off the foyer, behind the reception desk. It wasn’t big, but by keeping the furnishings to a minimum they had made the most of the space. Instead of a desk, the room held a conference table surrounded by six chairs, and another chair or two could be pulled in if necessary. Kinley arranged a pitcher of ice water and a fresh carafe of coffee on a low credenza along with water glasses, coffee cups, sugar and cream, then took a seat at one end of the table. She propped her tablet computer in front of her and skimmed through the few notes she’d taken in a preliminary phone call with the future bride who was scheduled to arrive in ten minutes.
Cassie Drennan had sounded young and eager, excited to be making plans for a late-summer wedding. She’d explained she knew three months was a shorter planning period than many brides probably gave themselves, but her fiance had accepted a position in London and the window of opportunity for their wedding was narrow. She’d been thrilled that the requested August weekend was available for a wedding in the garden of the inn.
“Chris Thompson’s dad just dropped off the favors for tonight,” Bonnie said, entering the office with a large cardboard box. “Want to see? They’re nice.”
“Sure.”
The stainless steel wine bottle stoppers topped with stainless steel hearts would be laid at each place setting as mementoes of the rehearsal dinner. The bride and groom would have special gifts for each member of their wedding party, but these favors had been provided by the groom’s parents.
“They are nice,” Kinley said, hefting one of the plastic-bubble-wrapped stoppers in her hand. “I’m sure they’ll be appreciated.”
“The kids’ table will have little silver-plate buckets of fruit candies wrapped in purple cellophane. Rhoda’s setting those out now.”
“Maybe we’ll actually survive this affair, after all.”
Bonnie laughed and pushed a weary hand through her tousled blond hair. “Don’t speak too confidently. We still have tonight and tomorrow to get through.”
“We’ll make it. All we have to do is keep our brother from throttling the mother of the bride,” Kinley said in a stage whisper, one eye on the open office doorway.
“Or keep the bride from doing so,” Bonnie said in the same low voice, her eyes lit with a rueful smile.
Kinley couldn’t help but imagine the humiliated look on Serena Sossaman’s face when she’d dragged her mother away that morning. “That, too.”
Bonnie toyed with the open lid of the favors box. “I’m sorry I had to cut your lunch outing short. If I’d thought there was time, I’d have waited until you’d had a chance to eat to call you.”
“You did the right thing,” Kinley said firmly. “There’s no way we’d have finished in time if you hadn’t.”
“I know. But still—it’s too bad you didn’t get to have lunch with Dan.”
Kinley wasn’t at all sure she and Dan would have gotten around to having lunch if Bonnie’s call hadn’t interrupted them—not that she had any intention of admitting that, of course. “We already had this talk, Bon. No matchmaking, remember? I’ll stay out of yours, you stay out of mine.”
Bonnie gave a little huff of exasperation. “But he’s so nice. And so cute. And so obviously taken with you. If you’d just make a little time for him…”
“I don’t have time,” Kinley said, as much to herself as to her sister. “I’m working two jobs and barely fitting everything in as it is. Maybe his job allows him to just take random days off when he likes, but I don’t have that luxury. And you know how long guys usually stay around once they figure out I’m not going to just drop all my responsibilities to cater to them. Not very long at all.”
“You do have a knack for running them off,” Bonnie agreed with a sister’s candor. “I’ve started to wonder if you push them away to avoid dealing with the risks.”
“You know what we really don’t have time for right now? Amateur analysis.” Kinley looked pointedly down at her tablet. Both Bonnie and Dan had now suggested that her divorce had left her afraid of future involvement. They were wrong, of course. The disaster of a marriage had left her more embarrassed than devastated. Perhaps it had reinforced her lifelong aversion to failure, but it hadn’t left her brokenhearted.
“You’re right,” Bonnie conceded grudgingly. “We’ll talk later.”
But not about Dan, Kinley vowed silently. She needed to come to terms with her own thoughts and feelings about him before she could even begin to discuss him with her sister.
She heard the front door open, heard voices in the entryway, and she stood to greet the arriving guests. Balancing the open favors box in front of her, Bonnie turned to hurry out of the office. She rushed through the open doorway—and straight into a tall, solid man who was approaching from the other direction. The resulting collision sent box and Bonnie tumbling to the floor.
Kinley leaped forward in response to her sister’s startled cry. There was a moment of pandemonium as the newcomers gathered around Bonnie, who looked thoroughly embarrassed as she assured everyone she was unharmed. With the help of the apologetic man she’d barreled into, she gathered the scattered bottle stoppers.
“They’re fine, Kinley,” Bonnie said, still kneeling on the floor as she carefully placed the stoppers back in the box, checking each one for signs of damage. Fortunately, they were all still wrapped in the plastic packing, so there were no scratches from the incident.
Kinley shook her head. “Forget about the stoppers, are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. Really.”
“I’m so sorry,” the tall man said again, bending to offer Bonnie a hand.
Her smaller hand was swallowed by his. She made a funny little sound, then laughed somewhat breathlessly when he helped her to her feet. “Static electricity,” she said. “I got a little shock.”
“I felt it, too,” he assured her.
Kinley lifted an eyebrow slightly in response to the rather dazed look on her sister’s face. Bonnie must have been quite flustered by the accident. Either that, or her reaction to the nice-looking man’s touch wasn’t all due to static electricity.
“Honestly, Dad.” A pretty young woman stepped forward with a teasingly disapproving shake of her strawberry blond head. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
Dad? Kinley mentally adjusted the man’s age up about a decade. She’d have guessed him to be in his early thirties, but his daughter wore a big engagement ring on her left hand and was obviously no child.
Bonnie bent quickly to pick up the box, her face momentarily hidden by her thick blond hair. When she straightened again, she wore a bright smile that gave no clue to her thoughts. “Perhaps we should start over. I’m Bonnie Carmichael, and this is my sister, Kinley. We’re the owners of Bride Mountain Inn.”
The younger woman spoke again, beaming in Kinley’s direction. “Hi, I
’m Cassie Drennan. We spoke on the phone?”
“Of course. You’re the bride-to-be. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“This clumsy oaf is my dad, Paul Drennan,” she teased, patting her father’s arm.
Smiling wryly, Paul nodded a greeting. His hair was a rich auburn with a touch of gray at the temples, but his eyes were the same jade green as his daughter’s.
Cassie turned then to the couple who stood behind her, an attractive woman with impeccably styled golden hair and fashionably tailored clothing and a stocky, balding man with kind brown eyes and a rumpled suit. “This is my mother, Holly Bauer and my stepdad, Larry Bauer. My fiance is running a little late. He’s going to join us as soon as he can.”
“I have some things to do for the wedding we’re hosting this weekend. I’ll leave you in my sister’s capable hands,” Bonnie said, backing toward the bustling dining room. “It was very nice to meet you all.”
Kinley thought Bonnie avoided Paul’s eyes in particular when she turned and hurried away—maybe because she was still embarrassed by the collision.
She motioned toward the conference table behind her. “Why don’t you all take a seat and we’ll get started. May I offer anyone something to drink? Coffee? Water?”
Making an effort to push everything but business out of her thoughts, she segued smoothly into work mode, prepared to make a dynamite presentation of the inn’s wedding services to this eager bride and her family. Yet even as she gave her full attention to her potential clients, thoughts of Dan—and memories of their kisses—hovered at the back of her mind, waiting to pounce on her as soon as she let down her guard.
* * *
The Sossaman family arrived a full hour and a half earlier than necessary for the rehearsal. Obviously it was Eva’s idea to be so early, since the rest of the family looked a bit harried by her nagging. Having just completed her satisfactory meeting with Cassie’s family, Kinley greeted the Sossaman crew as they streamed in through the now-reopened front door of the inn.
Eva’s husband, Clinton, was a stoop-shouldered accountant who’d been beaten down by life’s disappointments and a relentlessly critical wife, or at least that was Kinley’s private assessment of the man. Serena’s brother Connor and his wife, Alicia, were the stereotypical country-club duo, owners of a successful travel agency specializing in Caribbean cruises for senior citizens. They alternated between hovering over their overly indulged son and letting him run wild, assuming another member of the family was keeping an eye on him.
As for Chris Thompson, the groom, Kinley hadn’t yet figured him out. The ruddy-faced, squarely-built young man had said very little on the few occasions she’d met him, insisting that he knew nothing about “wedding stuff.” Ask him about hunting, fishing or Hokies football and he’d have an opinion, he joked, but flowers and frills were out of his area of expertise. Like his mother, Chris seemed to be the make-no-waves type, nodding agreeably when his future mother-in-law spoke, rarely bothering to argue and almost always giving in quickly when he did. Kinley supposed that trait boded well for the future of his marriage.
Serena had requested a casual rehearsal followed by a low-key dinner, but Eva had dressed as if the celebrity press would be covering the event. She swept into the inn barking instructions, scrutinizing every detail of the preparations, blithely rearranging elements Bonnie had spent all day putting into place. Bonnie and Rhoda discreetly went behind her putting a few things back as they’d been, which Eva didn’t even notice. She simply liked to appear to be in charge.
The midweek inn guests had mostly checked out that afternoon, to be replaced by relatives of Serena and Chris who’d come from out of town for the wedding. Eva had been annoyed when Kinley and Bonnie wouldn’t relax the rule about young children for them, but Kinley had stuck to that restriction, personally making arrangements with a nearby motel to set aside a block of rooms for the wedding guests with kids. Children were welcome to attend the rehearsal dinner and the wedding, but the inn simply wasn’t set up to accommodate young overnight visitors.
The weather was cooperating beautifully with the wedding plans, the temperature nicely moderate, the sky clear. This late in May, the days had grown longer, so it was still light at six o’clock, though the shadows had deepened around the edges of the garden. The sun would not yet have set when the rehearsal began at seven. It would be twilight by the time they moved in for dinner, which was scheduled to begin at eight—if Eva didn’t delay the rehearsal by making everyone walk through their parts over and over until she was satisfied.
Though she’d already reviewed the decorations, Kinley studied them again in smug satisfaction when she walked out onto the deck with the Sossaman-Thompson party. For such a grumpy pragmatist, her brother was a genius with outdoor decorations. He followed the instructions given him by wedding planners, florists or other clients, but in such a way that even they were always impressed when he finished. Somehow he’d managed to make even Eva’s over-the-top requests look tasteful and elegant, skillfully weaving tulle and organza and garland and fairy lights into the landscape and around the gazebo. Bow-bedecked white iron candelabras held tall white tapers, and white plaster pedestals would hold the lush arrangements of white calla lilies, lavender roses and freesia for the wedding. The pedestals were topped now with more modest baskets of blooms that would serve as decoration for the rehearsal.
Bonnie flipped a switch and the fairy lights glowed among the lavender-and-white drapings, visible even in the daylight. The wedding party expressed the appropriate oohs and aahs in response.
White folding chairs had been arranged in rows on either side of the pebbled path from the deck to the gazebo. Knots of lavender and white tulle and white silk calla lilies had been attached at the end of each row. The officiate, groom and groomsmen would wait in the gazebo—three steps up from the ground—while the ring bearer, flower girl, bridesmaids and finally the bride and her father proceeded up the path from the deck to join them. The musicians had already set up inside the gazebo behind the altar, with a portable piano and sound equipment for the soloist. Kinley ran through her mental checklist for the umpteenth time as she let her gaze travel slowly over the scene, reassuring herself nothing had been overlooked.
Chris smiled rather shyly at Kinley and Bonnie, who stood side by side assessing their clients’ reactions. “I don’t know anything about wedding stuff, but this looks real nice,” he said. “Doesn’t it, Serena?”
The bride nodded, but Kinley still thought her smile looked strained. “It looks like a fairy tale.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Kinley said warmly.
Eva tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes narrowed in speculation. “Maybe we could just move some of the—”
“Mother!” Serena wailed. “We aren’t changing another thing this late. Period.”
“I can’t imagine wanting to mess with perfection, anyway,” Dan said, having approached the group without drawing notice. He winked quickly at Kinley before turning his full attention to Serena. “You’ve done a fantastic job of choosing your decorations,” he assured her. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding.”
Eva preened. “Yes, it will. I—I mean, Serena and I spent hours planning and discussing and looking through bridal magazines and websites for ideas. I can’t tell you how much work we’ve put into this.”
Biting the inside of her mouth, Kinley turned to welcome the groom’s parents, who had just come outside to join the family admiring the landscaping. She was confirming to them that everything was on track with the caterer for the rehearsal dinner when she was interrupted by a shrill screech from Eva.
“Someone help my grandson! Save him from that beast!”
Chapter Seven
Dan was the first to react after Eva’s near-hysterical scream paralyzed the group at the foot of the stairs. Moving swiftly in the direction she’d pointed with a trembling finger, he approached the boy who sat on a patch of grass just beside and slightly behind the gazebo, his
face being licked by the black-and-brown dog who was growling happily while his stubby tail wagged behind him. It was quite obvious that young Grayson had absolutely no fear of the dog.
Dan slowed as he got closer, holding out a hand and speaking calmly to the dog. “Hey, there, Ninja. How’s it going, buddy?”
The dog moved away from the boy to sniff Dan’s hand, then lick him enthusiastically as if to demonstrate that he remembered him. His silly growl got even louder with pleasure when Dan rubbed his ears.
“Hey!” Grayson protested. “My dog!”
He’d barely finished speaking when his father snatched him up and hauled him away, objecting loudly, toward the perceived safety of the inn. Dan slipped two fingers under the dog’s collar to hold him still, and Ninja leaned obligingly against him, making no effort to pull away.
Kinley joined them, shaking her head in dismay. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered.
“I’ll take him back to Logan’s yard,” Dan offered.
“Thank you.”
“Where did that creature come from?” Eva asked from a circumspect distance, which required her to raise her voice to a somewhat painfully shrill level. “Someone should call animal control immediately.”
“There’s no need for that, Eva. This is my brother’s dog. He’s completely harmless.”
“Harmless? He’s growling!”
“He isn’t growling. That’s just his way of communicating.”
“He terrified my grandson. Listen to him crying.”
“Mom, Grayson is crying because Connor won’t let him play with the dog, not because he was afraid,” Serena explained with frayed patience. “Please don’t overreact.”
“I’ll take the dog home,” Dan said again.
“I’ll come with you to make sure the gate is securely fastened,” Kinley volunteered immediately.
“We promise the dog will be properly restrained during the rest of the weekend,” Bonnie said from behind Eva and Serena. “If you’d all like to come inside now, we’re setting out appetizers in the parlor for your guests. I’m sure you’d like to visit with the wedding party as they arrive for the rehearsal.”