The Runaway Bridesmaid

by Kaitlyn Rice

  “Are you ready, Izza-bell?” Angie asked. “Mr. Trebor’s ready an’ I’m really, really, really ready!”

  No kidding.

  Isabel dropped her scissors and some yellow cloth into a basket and stood up, slipping an arm around Angie’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  “Hurray! We’re goin’ on a hike!”

  Both of them smiled at Angie’s enthusiasm. “We need to pack up our dinner,” Trevor said. “Then I should drop by and tell the counselors I’m leaving.”

  “Boy, are you pokey!”

  “Angela Kay Corbett!” Isabel scolded.

  Trevor winked at Angie. “If you ladies wouldn’t mind pulling together our dinner, I can talk to the guys at the same time and we can meet out in the hallway.”

  “Sure. We can do that,” Isabel said. “What do you want?”

  He stared at her, wondering if she had any clue about the wicked thoughts she’d summoned.

  “For dinner,” she added, glancing at his mouth.

  She knew.

  And Trevor preferred his answer to the other phrasing of the question. But he had invited Isabel and her six-year-old friend on this hike. He’d have to behave. “See what you can find in the fridge, and we’ll also want something to drink.”

  They entered the long hall together, then Trevor crossed to the community room entrance and waved Isabel and Angie down the hallway. “We’ll meet here. Okay?”

  When he poked his head inside the huge room to search for a counselor, he was glad he’d sent the women away. The campers had gone wild. Some had showered and were using their wet towels for a towel-snapping fight. Others, still in their hiking clothes, were running around sniffing one another, trying to decide who smelled the worst. A couple of the kids were actually asleep. Not an easy task, he would think, with the noise.

  “Hey, Dusty,” Trevor hollered when he saw him. “I’m heading out.”

  The counselor came over. “Going out with Isabel?”

  “I promised her and the little girl a hike.”

  Dusty nodded. “She’s a great lady. You’re lucky.”

  “I know,” Trevor said.

  And he did. He’d never have planned to deepen his relationship with Isabel during a two-week camp, but the forced physical separation had allowed him to clarify his thoughts.

  He’d have to be careful with her. She was different—kindhearted, gracious. Open. Perhaps her childhood had protected her from the things in life that could harden a person. The people who could.

  He wouldn’t be the man to hurt her that way.

  Yet he couldn’t imagine breaking away from her. He’d started something—an awakening in her. Whatever Roger had been to her, he couldn’t have known her deepest beauty. Trevor would be a fool to stop seeing Isabel now. He didn’t know who would learn more from whom.

  So he’d do what he always did with women and warn her: he wasn’t destined to be a groom or a fiancé. He’d seen a lot of couples act as if they were happily married. Upon close inspection, however, he could find the cracks that would eventually wreck the relationship.

  The best he could manage, with any lady, was this—committed for as long as the relationship worked, and then a fond memory. If she couldn’t settle for that much, he’d have to say goodbye.

  Heartache averted.

  Right now he needed to get going before Isabel’s freckle-faced buddy found him and asked him again why he was so darn slow. “We’ll be out on the property for a couple of hours,” he told Dusty. “Tell the other counselors to call the cell number if anything comes up.”

  “Sure thing.”

  When he turned to discover the hallway empty, Trevor decided to take advantage of the extra time. Returning to his office, he opened a desk drawer and pulled three candy bars from a private stash. After dropping them into a pocket, he returned to the hallway, where Isabel and Angie now waited.

  “Did you find us some dinner?”

  “Yep!” the little girl said. “I put it in my backpack. I’m gonna carry it all by myself.”

  He studied the small pink pack strapped to her shoulders. “Are you sure you put enough food in there? I’m a big guy and I’m as hungry as a bear.”

  “We got six samwiches an’ a whole bag of carrot sticks an’ three waters,” Angie said.

  He frowned. “Bet you forgot dessert, didn’t you?”

  Angie’s face fell. “We didn’t find anything in the fridge for dessert.”

  “Hmm. Well, maybe I should drive to the Lyons grocery store to buy a chocolate cake before we go.”

  The little girl stared at him, her brown eyes wide.

  “If I drive fast, I could be there and back in an hour.”

  Angie pursed her lips and frowned, apparently weighing the benefits of dessert against the problem of a longer wait.

  Trevor pulled the candy bars from his pocket. “Unless you think these will work.”

  Angie’s mouth fell open, then she closed it and narrowed her eyes. “You were teasin’ me!”

  He grinned. “Yes, I was.”

  “Izza-bell always tells R.J. he’ll get in hot water if he teases me,” Angie said. “You wanna get in hot water wif Izza-bell?”

  Trevor met Isabel’s gaze, lifting his brows. “Oh, of course not,” he said, even while sending the unspoken message, Bring it on.

  Judging from Isabel’s thoughtful expression, she’d received his communiqué. If he could have lured her to privacy now, she’d be warm to his kisses.

  He’d better get that confirmed-bachelor speech out of the way as soon as possible.

  “Think you can carry our dessert in your backpack, too?” he asked Angie.

  “Yep.”

  “Turn around.”

  She did, and Trevor slid the candy in beside the cold sandwiches. Then he led his new hiking buddies outside, and started down the same path that led to the cabins. On the way, Trevor pointed out a place where he’d recently spotted some prairie dogs.

  His comment led to Isabel’s question about wildlife in the area, and Trevor explained that deer, black bears and raccoons often made nightly trips to the riverbanks near Sam and Darla’s house.

  “I see raccoons around my place,” Isabel said. “But I’d have to go to a zoo to see a bear or a prairie dog.”

  “Sometimes I see pigs and chickens in my yard,” Angie piped up.

  Trevor stopped and turned around on the trail to peer at her. “Pigs?”

  “Yep.”

  “Pig pigs, that go oink and roll in the mud?”

  She giggled.

  Isabel laughed, too. “Angie’s dad’s a farmer,” she said. “He raises hogs and also keeps a few chickens.”

  “That explains it,” Trevor said, snapping his fingers. “I was beginning to think that Angie was teasing me, and that next she was going to tell me she’d seen elephants in her yard, too.”

  Angie kept tittering as Trevor turned around and continued their hike. When they drew adjacent to the cabins, he veered off down a narrower path that would eventually lead to Sam and Darla’s house.

  A few years ago, Sam and Trevor had cleared the pines in a small, secluded area between the cabins and the house. They’d encouraged a few aspen trees to grow around the perimeter, then they’d built a gazebo and planted the area with a shade-hardy bluegrass. After tilling a few flower beds, they were left with an oasis of manicured lawn in the middle of the mostly wooded property.

  “Wow, this looks like a castle,” Angie said after she’d spotted the gazebo. She raced inside the structure and made a couple of circles around it, checking out the bench and the hanging pots full of flowers. “Can we have our picnic in here, Mr. Trebor?”

  He’d hoped she would like it here. A six-year-old wouldn’t tolerate a true hike on rough terrain. “You bet,” he said.

  Immediately Angie found a choice spot on the bench and shrugged out of her pack. Pulling out one of the sandwiches, she promptly unwrapped it and began eating.

  Isabel stepped inside
the octagonal structure. “This is so nice!” she said. “Like a secret garden.”

  “You haven’t been here?” Trevor asked.

  “No. Darla kept saying she’d bring me and Angie out here, but she’s been so busy.” Isabel peered at him and shrugged. “She didn’t want me to navigate the path alone, the first time.”

  Isabel set out the rest of their lunch, then sat down and grabbed a carrot stick. “I’m glad to know our friends will be saying their vows in such a gorgeous place.”

  “They’re getting married out here?” Trevor asked.

  Isabel frowned at him as he sat down beside her. “You don’t know?”

  Trevor grabbed a sandwich. “No, but I’d have figured it out in plenty of time. Remember, all I have to do is stand where the minister tells me and produce the ring at the appropriate time.”

  “Trevor Kincaid!”

  He’d just taken a bite, but he asked anyway. “What?”

  “You act as if your good friend’s wedding will be nothing but a pain.”

  It would, he thought as he chewed, but maybe he ought to drop the subject.

  “Actually, in a roundabout way, it was a wedding that brought me here,” Isabel said. “They are so…hopeful, don’t you think?” She gazed toward the aspens and crunched into her carrot stick.

  Or…maybe it was time for that warning. He caught Isabel’s eye. “My contracts students who go on to became divorce attorneys have every reason to feel encouraged, I suppose.”

  Isabel frowned at him. “You aren’t suggesting that Sam and Darla are heading for divorce?”

  “They may be the rare couple who makes it, but they are mature enough to know what they’re getting into. You do know that half of U.S. marriages end in divorce, don’t you?”

  “Half survive.”

  “That’s right. You are an incurable optimist,” Trevor said. “Don’t tell me. Your parents never divorced.”

  “As a matter of fact, they didn’t.” Isabel glared at him, then grabbed a sandwich.

  Was she truly unaware of how tough marriage could be? Trevor’s mother and father had started off each of their marriages believing that this was the one that would last. When he was a kid, he’d thought so, too.

  For a while.

  Sometimes a very short while.

  “Do me a favor?” Isabel asked.

  “Depends,” he said, and winked at her. He didn’t want to come off as a complete cynic, even if he was.

  “Don’t mention the D word again here, where our friends will be saying their vows.”

  There went most of his argument, and his opportunity to warn Isabel about who he was and what he could offer her. He shrugged.

  “My mama likes weddings, too,” Angie said. “She wishes she could do a bigger one ’cuz she wants new dishes. I chipped her sugar jar on Easter.”

  Isabel peered at the child. “Weddings are nice for better reasons than the presents,” she said. “But if you remind me, I can help your daddy remember that your mother would like replacement pieces for her birthday and Christmas.”

  “Daddy doesn’t buy Mama presents,” Angie said, adding gravely, “They are divorced.”

  Despite a missed opportunity to push his agenda forward, Trevor chuckled at the mention of that word.

  Isabel scowled at him.

  “I know,” she told Angie. “I meant that you and your brother could give them to her.”

  “’Kay.” Angie brightened. “Can I have my dessert now?”

  After Isabel’s yes, Angie ripped the wrapper off her candy bar and dove in.

  Trevor studied Isabel.

  She was speaking to Angie now while they both looked around at the gazebo and grounds. Isabel was talking about portable chairs and flower bouquets and dresses. As she spoke about the upcoming wedding, she was animated. Maybe a bit wistful.

  Trevor leaned back on the bench, crammed the end of his sandwich into his mouth and chewed.

  Sleeping Beauty loved the fairy tale, he could tell, and she deserved to have what she wanted. Maybe Isabel would be one of the few who made it work, with some lucky guy who wanted to try.

  And Trevor?

  Well, he’d have to find the strength to back away.

  Chapter Eight

  After setting Angie’s book on the bedside table, Isabel turned off the lamp and tiptoed from the bedroom. Although she usually stayed close in case the little girl needed a drink or a comforting pat, Isabel had accepted Darla’s invitation to join her and Sam tonight down at the riverbank. They had both assured her that if Angie woke up, they could see the bedroom light clearly from the window.

  Isabel let herself out the French doors and headed for the grouping of chairs near the water.

  “She’s already asleep?” Darla called out as she approached.

  “She is.” Isabel spoke up to be heard over the sound of the rushing water. “All that fresh air today must have worn her out.”

  “I’m sure,” Darla said. “Would you like a glass of chardonnay?”

  Isabel accepted the glass of wine they must have brought out for her, then lowered herself into the chair next to Sam. It’d been a long day. Trevor had invited the entire household to go fishing with the second group of campers, about a mile upriver. They’d all been up and on the trail early, and they’d returned in time to cook their catch for dinner.

  Darla and Sam looked beat, too. Darla had leaned back and closed her eyes, only bringing her hand up every once in a while to sip her drink. Sam stared out toward the river, also limiting his movements to the occasional tipping of his glass. They sat, not speaking, for a long while.

  Whenever Isabel and her sisters got together, they wore sweatpants, ordered takeout food and talked nonstop. Their conversations covered the gamut from their jobs to debates about politics and philosophy.

  This silent sitting felt strange, until Isabel realized how relaxing it was to enjoy the peace.

  It was too dark to see much, but the soft glow from some garden lights allowed her make out shapes and faces, as well as hints of the glistening water between the trees. The babble of the river energized Isabel. The smell of the pines and even the slightly fishy water made her want to breathe it in and memorize all of these new sensations.

  She reclined in her chair and watched the sway of the tree branches.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” Sam asked after a while.

  “Heavenly. You’re lucky to live here. Did Darla tell me you’d inherited this property?”

  Sam gave her one of his slow, barely there smiles. “The acreage belonged to my mother’s mother. Dad developed it into a ranch, then I added the lodge after he retired.”

  “Where are your parents now?”

  “Tucson. Winters are hard on my mother’s arthritis.”

  “And how did Trevor come into the picture?” Isabel asked. “You two aren’t related, yet he runs the camp from here. Surely that setup is unusual.”

  “Trevor might not own the land, but he loves this place as much as I do.”

  “You must really trust him.”

  “With the exception of Darla, here, I wouldn’t trust anyone else more.”

  Isabel wasn’t surprised. Despite their bad start, she’d learned that Trevor was a fine person—probably better than he knew. “How did you meet him?” she asked.

  But a sound had caught Sam’s attention. He sat forward, peering into the distance toward the lodge.

  Isabel stilled, wondering if the sound had come from an animal. Darla had sat up and opened her eyes, also.

  But soon both of them relaxed in their chairs again, and Sam’s next comment gave away the identity of their intruder. “Ah, come on. You don’t want to hear any more about that old cuss, do you?”

  Trevor appeared through the trees. “Should I worry that you’re talking about me?”

  “Damn straight you should worry,” Sam said. “I could tell this young lady a few things, you know.”

  Embarrassed that she’d been caught asking about h
im, Isabel watched and listened while the two men traded barbs.

  Trevor’s hair was wet, and he had on light slacks and a dark, button-down shirt. When he claimed the chair next to hers, he gave her one of those sexy winks.

  “I’ll refill drinks,” Darla said, standing to collect glasses. “Trevor, you want a glass of wine?”

  “Man, do I! Thanks.”

  “I’ll help you in the kitchen,” Sam said, hastening to join his fiancée on her walk to the house and leaving Isabel alone in the quiet with Trevor. Finally alone, for the first time since he’d kissed her. Could that have been three weeks ago? She was beginning to think she’d dreamed the experience.

  She wanted to kiss him again.

  She couldn’t just plant one on him. She wasn’t the type, and heaven knew what he would think if she was that brazen. Heaven knew what he would do. Besides, Darla and Sam would be returning with the wine.

  So she couldn’t grab the guy.

  “You know, you can just ask me if there’s anything you want to know,” Trevor said. “We don’t need Sam or Darla to run messages between us.”

  “I wasn’t prying for secrets,” she said. “You were just on my mind, I guess.”

  “Then you’ll understand what brought me over here.”

  How could he make her so nervous and so happy to be around him at the same time? She glanced at him. “I was asking how you and Sam met.”

  “Actually, we met through marriage,” Trevor said. “My dad married Sam’s older sister when I was about eleven. Sometimes she brought me out here to visit her folks, and that’s when I met Sam. He would have been about twenty.”

  “Sam’s sister is your stepmother?”

  “She was for two years and nine months. Dad’s on his third wife, now. Mary was number two.”

  “Wow.”

  “Anyway, Sam was working as a hand for his dad then, so he was here all the time. Despite the age difference, he and I hit it off. He took me fishing, taught me to climb. The friendship developed over the years.”

  “Is that another reason you started the camp?” Isabel asked. “As a payback for the attention you got from Sam?”