by Gina Wilkins
“Ghost bride?” Dan asked Maxine with a disingenuous curiosity that made Kinley want to pinch him. Hard.
Maxine nodded energetically. “It’s an old legend. You don’t hear much about it anymore ‘cause the kids don’t really know it. Guess they don’t have time for local folktales what with their tweeter and facepages and all that stuff.”
Dan made a funny choking sound, but merely nodded encouragingly. “I’ve always enjoyed hearing old legends.”
Kinley shot a hard look at him but he studiously avoided her gaze. She knew darned well that he was aware of her glaring at him.
“There’s an old story about the bride of the mountain,” Maxine began avidly while nearly everyone within hearing turned to listen. “Some say as how she found the love of her life here in ol’ Virginny. They overcame a lot of obstacles to be together, but he was finally able to pop the question. She was blissfully happy as she planned a sunset wedding here on the mountainside in the spring, just about this time of year. Then, sadly, the night before her wedding, she died. The details are a little fuzzy about that—some say it was in a tragic fall, others say something burst in her head during a spirited spinning dance with her love. Apoplexy, they called it then.”
“That’s a terrible story, Aunt Maxine,” mother-of-the-groom Nancy Thompson said with a shake of her head, her hand at her throat. “So sad.”
Relishing the limelight, the older woman nodded. “Ever since, it’s been said the bride visits the mountain whenever true love is present. She never got to have a life with her one true love, so she blesses those who have found theirs. It’s been claimed that when a couple sees the bride, they’ll share a lifetime of happiness together until death itself parts them.”
“Did you ever know anyone who saw the bride?” Dan asked Maxine in fascination.
“I did.” Maxine shot a rather smug look at Kinley. “Their great-niece is standing right there in front of you. Helen and Leo saw the bride the night Leo proposed here in the rose garden. Not many folks knew that. They considered it too intimate a detail to share with all but their closest friends. My late husband and Leo were quite the best of friends back in the day, and Leo let it slip one afternoon when they were out squirrel hunting. I declare, Helen could sure cook up a fine pot of squirrel and dumplings.”
Having been drawn into the tale despite herself, Kinley shook off her momentary paralysis when attention turned to her. Maxine must have liberally embellished that story; there were several parts of it Kinley had never heard before. Not a surprise, really, because there were so many versions of the old legend and, as Maxine had said, not many people talked about it these days. The only real consistency was that bit about couples who saw the bride living happily ever after, the part that had so captivated Bonnie for all these years.
“Eva, we should probably start the rehearsal now,” she murmured with a tap of her watch. “Dinner will be served at eight.”
Eva nodded, distractedly. “Serena saw something when we were here for one of the planning meetings, didn’t you, darling? Maybe it was the ghost bride you saw, blessing your union with dear Chris.”
Kinley had to swallow a sigh. Of course Eva would be competitive even in this.
Serena was just as exasperated, though more openly. “I saw deer, Mom. A plain old white-tailed doe and her fawn. Jeez.”
Unabashed, Eva shrugged. “Well, perhaps you’ll see the bride this evening. You and Chris should keep a lookout. Now, everyone in the wedding party, let’s take our places, shall we? Kinley is going to make sure everyone’s in the right position and then she’ll give the signal for when you’re supposed to perform your parts. She’ll do the same thing during the ceremony tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?” Kinley blinked a few times at the mother of the bride. “I’m serving as the director?”
“Well, of course, dear. You’ve been organizing everything for us, after all.”
“I, um—”
“I’m so sorry, Kinley. I thought she was going to ask my aunt to give the signals,” Serena murmured apologetically. “We still can, if you’d prefer us to do so.”
“No, this is fine.” Sighing inwardly, Kinley rushed to organize everyone. “You and your bridesmaids go into the inn with your dad and the ring bearer and flower girl,” she instructed Serena, briskly taking charge. “You’ll be making your appearance from there. I’ll, um, text Bonnie when to start sending you out,” she said, hastily improvising.
After making a quick, confirming call to her sister, she turned to the groom and his groomsmen, the officiate and musicians, making shooing motions with her hands to get them into position. She was aware that Dan was standing off to one side, watching her improvisations with a broad grin, but she didn’t have time to deal with him just then. She would definitely talk with him later, she vowed.
* * *
“Oh, my God.” Kinley laid her aching head on the table in Bonnie’s apartment an hour and ten minutes later, groaning heartily. The wedding party was gathered upstairs in the dining room, in the capable hands of the caterer and her staff now—at least for the next hour or so. Still, Kinley wouldn’t be at all surprised to be texted by Eva at least once during the rehearsal dinner. Eva wasn’t particularly happy that she and her husband weren’t the official hosts of that meal, and she would surely do something during the evening to draw attention to herself.
Bonnie had made a pot of vegetable soup and a pan of corn bread for herself and Kinley and Dan, whom she’d invited to join them again. Normally Kinley wouldn’t have allowed herself to show weakness in front of their guest, but the past hour had seriously tried her patience.
Bonnie set a steaming bowl in front of Kinley. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”
Straightening in her chair, she drew a deep breath. “Only if it’s laced with vodka.”
Laughing softly, Bonnie dropped into her own seat and picked up her spoon. “You don’t mean that.”
“No,” Kinley admitted. “But if anyone could drive me to drink, it would be Eva Sossaman.”
“You shouldn’t talk about your ‘best friend forever’ that way,” Dan murmured, spreading butter on a bite of corn bread.
Kinley turned to point her spoon at him accusingly. “And you. Encouraging Maxine to tell that absurd ghost story.”
“I didn’t bring it up, she did,” he reminded her before popping the corn bread into his mouth.
“You egged her on.”
He shrugged. “She wanted to tell the story, I wanted to hear it. I found it fascinating, as did most of the other people who were listening, apparently.”
“Dan told me what Maxine said,” Bonnie observed. “It was very sad. I hadn’t heard it quite that way before.”
“She was probably embroidering the tale a bit,” Kinley said, voicing her earlier suspicion. “I hope you aren’t planning to print a story an old woman possibly made up on the spot,” she added to Dan.
“I could credit it to a longtime local,” he said offhandedly. “I probably won’t go into that much detail, but I would be remiss not to mention the old legend at least in passing. People go for that sort of thing these days, you know. I’m surprised you aren’t jumping on a possible marketing angle—and yes, I know you said you were afraid it would attract the wrong kind of attention, but business is business, right?”
“The sweet, romantic story our great-uncle shared with our family was very special to us,” Bonnie interceded. “It always affected him very deeply to talk about it. I think Kinley is reluctant to commercialize the legend, to exploit it as a cheap marketing gimmick.”
“Actually, I’m looking at it from a practical business angle. Just as a ghost legend would attract some guests, it would turn others away,” Kinley said brusquely. “Not to mention that we’d get tired of answering questions about it, or assuring people that they’re seeing fog or deer or shadows and not ghosts. Or comforting brides who’d be disappointed by not seeing the ghost.”
She looked at Dan again. “You heard
Eva out there, trying to convince Serena she’s already seen the bride. Before the weekend is over, Eva’s probably going to demand that I produce the ghost as a part of the package she’s paid for.”
“Want me to dress up in a sheet?” Bonnie asked. Dan laughed, but Kinley only glared at her sister.
“I won’t exploit your family legend,” Dan promised. “I won’t even mention that your great-aunt and great-uncle saw the bride. I’ll simply make a passing reference to a charming old local legend once connected to the inn. My article wouldn’t be complete without it.”
“You have to give him that, Kinley. I’m sure Dan will be very tasteful in his write-up.”
Kinley sighed. “Fine.”
“You know why you’re really so resistant to this legend?” Dan asked conversationally.
She frowned. “I’ve already explained that.”
“I think you’re a little afraid of it.”
She huffed in disbelief at his suggestion. “I’m so not afraid of ghosts.”
“You’re afraid of things you can’t control,” he corrected. “You can’t control ghosts—or whether or not people claim to see them on your property. And that bugs the hell out of you.”
“You know what, Kinley? I think he’s got you figured out,” Bonnie said, sounding impressed. “I’ve always wondered why the ghost bride made you so uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because you can’t get her to appear on schedule, can’t add her to your annotated and color-coded calendar.”
Scowling, Kinley shifted in her chair and crumbled corn bread between her fingers. “You’re both nuts.”
Before they could argue any more her phone vibrated in her pocket. She drew it out and checked the screen, then sighed and stood. “Eva wants to ask my opinion about something for tomorrow.”
“She’s probably decided she wants a Cinderella coach and six white horses to carry Serena down the aisle.” Bonnie shook her head in disapproval. “You’ve only eaten half your soup.”
“I’m not very hungry, anyway. You two go ahead and finish your dinners. I’ll see you later.”
She wasn’t particularly displeased that Eva had summoned her, she thought as she left the apartment and headed up the stairs. For once, the woman’s timing had been just right.
* * *
Bonnie propped her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together, studying Dan across the table. “You really seem to enjoy playing with fire.”
Swallowing another spoonful of the excellent soup, he chuckled. “On occasion, perhaps.”
Especially when that fire was packaged within the enigma that made up Kinley Carmichael, he added silently.
“You’re liable to get burned, you know. Kinley doesn’t like being embarrassed.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You think I embarrassed her?”
“Well, you certainly put her at a loss for words. That doesn’t happen often with Kinley.”
“I didn’t mean to either embarrass her or render her speechless,” Dan said candidly. “I was just making an observation. And maybe teasing her a little.”
“I wasn’t criticizing. I think it’s good for her to be shaken up a little on occasion. You’re right, you know. Kinley tries too hard to stay in control. She’s done it since she was a kid, but especially since her marriage broke up. Um, you did know she was married once?”
“Yes, she told me.”
“Oh. Interesting. She doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“We didn’t get into an in-depth discussion of it or anything, but she told me she married young, that it didn’t last long and that her ex-husband decided he didn’t want to be married.”
Bonnie nodded, her expression solemn. “I wouldn’t say he broke her heart, exactly, but he hurt her.”
“I got that. Shook her confidence.”
“Yes. And she’s been determined ever since that no one will put her in that position again. It didn’t help that our brother suffered a couple of painful betrayals— one by a woman he loved, another by a man he thought was a friend. I guess you could say they both have some trust issues as a result of all those betrayals. Logan dealt with it by becoming a bit of a hermit, limiting his social interactions, such as they are, to us and a very select few others.”
“And Kinley dealt with it by staying in control. Always.”
Bonnie inclined her head in a silent confirmation.
He was a little puzzled by this conversation. “Why are you telling me this? Something tells me you don’t discuss your siblings’ personal business very often.”
“I don’t,” she agreed. “And that’s all I’m saying tonight. I just thought there were a couple things you should know if you want to get closer to Kinley. And I’ve gotten the distinct impression that you do want that.”
Did her confidences indicate her approval? “I do want to get closer to her. I mean, I know I’ve only just met her, but…well, there it is.”
“Something clicked.”
“Yeah.” He supposed that described it as well as anything. “Something clicked.”
Bonnie’s faint sigh sounded just a bit envious. He didn’t suspect for a minute that she wanted his attention for herself. He liked Bonnie a lot, but had felt no romantic chemistry with her—and he was quite certain she felt the same way about him. But maybe she was hoping to experience that click for herself with someone.
As for him—he hadn’t been looking. Hadn’t been prepared. Wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed now that it had happened to him. He only knew that he would be staying around to see where this led. And it didn’t hurt to have Kinley’s sister on his side.
Chapter Eight
Eva and her family were the last nonresidential attendees to leave the rehearsal dinner. Most of the out-of-town guests who were staying at the inn had retired early to their suites, while a few others lingered in the parlor. The catering staff efficiently cleared away all evidence of the dinner. Bonnie, Rhoda and Kinley waited to set up for breakfast; it wouldn’t take them long. Kinley hoped to be home by ten. Tomorrow would start early, and she wasn’t sure how well she was going to sleep that night, anyway. She had a sneaky suspicion she’d have some trouble clearing her mind for sleep—and exactly who she’d be thinking of as she tossed and turned in her bed.
“We should all go, too,” Serena announced after her in-laws departed. “I’m getting tired and I’ll look like a hag tomorrow if I don’t get some rest.”
“I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready, honey,” her fiance offered immediately. “Then I’m meeting the guys for drinks—my low-key bachelor party,” he added with a good-natured laugh.
Serena nodded. Kinley privately believed Serena could use a few drinks that evening, herself—or at least a couple hours away from her mother just to relax and have fun with friends, but she hadn’t heard about any such plans, and it certainly wasn’t her place to suggest it.
“I’m ready,” Serena said. “Kinley and Bonnie have things to do here. Mom? You coming?”
Eva looked around the room again, as if trying and failing to come up with one final detail to oversee before letting go of today, then nodded and tucked her pocketbook beneath her arm. “Fine. Let’s go. You should get to bed early tonight, Serena, so you’ll look fresh and radiant tomorrow. I’ll make you a cup of herbal tea when we get home and perhaps we’ll do a facial before you turn in.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
Kinley noted that the once-acquiescent and unruffled Serena was becoming more tense and peevish as the hours passed toward her wedding. Bridal jitters were quite common, of course, but she was a little concerned about Serena. The bride looked to be one mother-nag away from a total meltdown. If they could only get through the next twenty-four hours, Serena would move into her own home with her husband—and at twenty-five, it was past time for her to move out of her parents’ home, in Kinley’s opinion. Perhaps it would have been even better if Serena had lived on her own for a year or two, but then maybe Kinley was just projecting her own experience onto
the younger woman.
“Where are Connor and Alicia and Grayson?” Eva asked.
“They’re in the parlor, I think, talking with the Barringtons,” Chris replied. “I saw them in there earlier.”
Serena turned toward the doorway. “I’ll let them know we’re leaving.”
“I’ve told everyone in the wedding party to be dressed and ready at least an hour before the ceremony begins at five tomorrow,” Eva said to Kinley—unnecessarily since Kinley had heard Eva barking orders earlier. “Oh, Bonnie, there you are. I wanted to make sure there will be fresh coffee available all day tomorrow. Many of our guests will arrive early and will probably enjoy sipping coffee and mingling in here until time to be seated for the ceremony.”
Kinley looked around to see that Bonnie and Dan had wandered in behind her. Her eyes met Dan’s, and she thought he studied her rather intently for a moment before he smiled. Just what had he and Bonnie talked about after she’d left them?
“I’ll have coffee, pitchers of ice water and fresh fruit available in here all day tomorrow,” Bonnie promised Eva patiently.
“Good. Now, Kinley—”
Serena reentered the room and interrupted whatever additional command Eva had intended to issue. “Dad, Alicia said she left Grayson with you.”
Clinton raised his eyebrows above the rims of his narrow glasses. “He was with me earlier, but he got whiny so I sent him to find his mom in the parlor. I reminded him there were games in there and he said he wanted to go play.”
“He’s not in there.”
Connor and Alicia entered the dining room, both looking around. “Grayson’s with you, isn’t he, Dad? You were showing him the bird’s nest in that bush around front.”
“I sent him inside. I saw him walk through the front door with my own eyes,” Clinton insisted. “I stayed outside to exchange a few words with Mike Ray before he left, but I know Grayson came in.”
“Okay, so he’s probably somewhere here in the inn,” Connor said with an edge of anxiety to his voice. “Let’s all split up and look for him. Maybe he’s gone upstairs with someone in the family who thinks he had permission to go with them.”