“Pretty much.”
They followed Madeline and Riley. Behind them the violinist broke a string, and the flutist squeaked on the wrong note.
“Where is Grant now?” Summer asked.
“He went back to New York hours ago,” Kyle said, secretly hoping the music sounded better tomorrow.
Someday he would tell Summer that Grant had come to see him today because he’d figured out who had leaked Kyle’s story and why. He’d offered Kyle a prestigious job with the newspaper, his newspaper. And he’d told Kyle he wouldn’t blame him if he exposed his son. Kyle had said no to both.
One day he would tell her how it had felt when Grant had clasped him by the shoulder and told him he was proud of him. Right now Kyle had something else on his mind.
“What have you been doing with yourself since Grant left?” Summer asked.
He thought she sounded like a wife already.
He looked down into her eyes and said, “I’ve been planning my strategy. Do you have a date for the wedding?”
“For Madeline and Riley’s wedding?” she asked.
“Do you know of any other wedding that’s slated to go down in Orchard Hill history tomorrow?”
He caught that little roll of her eyes. “I don’t have a date.”
“Would you be mine?” he asked.
She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“We haven’t been on a proper date yet,” he said. “And I think every couple should go on at least one before they get married.”
Kyle had never noticed that little dimple in her right cheek. He wondered what else he would uncover during the next fifty or sixty years. “I think we should go to the justice of the peace.” He gestured to all the people running around like gerbils in a science experiment. “Why would anybody choose to go through all this?”
“I don’t recall saying I would marry you.”
He thought he saw a ghost of a smile on her pouty pink lips. “That’s why,” he said, as if it was obvious, “I think this date thing is a good idea.”
They were at the back of church now, and everyone was talking at once. Chelsea had cornered the poor reverend, who was now frantically taking notes. The musicians were discussing changes, and the Sullivan men were silently relieved that they weren’t going to have to employ the shotgun element to this wedding after all, as if they could have forced their sister to do anything she didn’t want to do.
“Are you coming back to the inn tonight?” Summer asked.
A man Summer hadn’t been formally introduced to jostled one shoulder in front of Kyle’s. “Riley is getting married tomorrow. It’s our brotherly duty to take him out for one last hoorah.”
With a flick of a gaze, Summer looked the slightly younger man over. She couldn’t help smiling as she held out her hand. “I’m Summer. You must be Braden.”
Ignoring his brother, Kyle leaned closer, his breath tickling her ear. “Your room or mine?”
The breeze toyed with her hair, and a smile toyed with the corners of her lips. “Both,” she said.
There was a dinner following this rehearsal and toasts to be made and more plans to finalize and laughter to be savored and schedules to coordinate and wedding speeches yet to be written. The mothers were arriving in the morning. There were always surprises when The Sources rode into town. Tomorrow Riley and Madeline’s wedding would go down in history in Orchard Hill as the largest and most hastily planned event anyone could remember.
Kyle and Summer were going to be a part of that history-making moment. He’d been strategizing all afternoon.
He could hardly wait for tomorrow. Tonight he was looking forward to discovering what Summer had in store for him back at the inn.
Chapter Thirteen
Anybody who happened to be walking past the old stone church on Briar Street in Orchard Hill on Friday evening would have felt the underlying excitement in the air. Not that anybody was walking by. It seemed everybody was inside waiting for Madeline and Riley’s wedding to begin.
Bouquets of apple blossoms adorned the altar; more delicate sprigs were tucked into bows made of airy netting on every pew. The windows were open, letting in a current of air that seemed to carry a giggle that couldn’t quite be restrained. Guests were being seated. In the vestibule, ushers were preparing to light the tapers for the candlelight ceremony. The musicians were in their designated places where the choir normally sat.
In a small room down a narrow hallway that led to the back of the church, Madeline and her bridesmaids were nearly ready.
Chelsea put away her brushes and powders and wands. “Okay, everybody, what do you think?” she said, turning Abby toward the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
Abby looked at her reflection. They all looked. And what they saw were four lovely young women, three dressed in the palest pink and one dressed in white. Abby and Chelsea stood in front, Summer and Madeline off to the side slightly behind them.
“Not bad,” Abby said, smiling at the way her light, wispy hair framed her face.
“What I want to know,” Chelsea said, tucking an errant strand of her own thick, auburn hair back into her loose chignon, “is why Madeline and Summer look so rested, while Abby and I needed a gallon of concealer to hide the dark circles under our eyes.”
Abby’s breath caught as she said, “Because they’re both in love.”
Madeline beamed, and for a moment, Summer thought the ruby necklace Riley had given his bride glowed a little brighter, too. Although she said nothing, Summer didn’t deny Abby’s observation. She didn’t want to deny it. She was in love with Kyle.
Chelsea was right, too, she thought, turning this way and that in front of the mirror. She really did look rested. She never required a lot of sleep, but last night she’d gotten more than she’d expected. She’d left a note on the registration counter for Kyle, telling him where he could find her.
She’d fallen asleep waiting for him and awoke this morning to her clock radio playing. Kyle was fast asleep beside her. There was something poignant about the knowledge that he cared enough about her well-being not to wake her. She’d done the same for him this morning.
Other than catching a glimpse of him in his dark suit and tie a half hour ago, she hadn’t seen him all day. His mother and stepmothers, brother Braden and Riley’s friend Kipp were in town for the wedding. Summer wasn’t the only one who’d been busy. She would see him soon, and, when they had a moment alone, she would tell him what it had meant to her to share her innermost secrets with him.
A knock sounded on the door. “Yes?” Madeline said.
A stocky man who looked a little uncomfortable in his tight collar and tie poked his head inside. “They’re ready for us, Madeline.”
Madeline kissed the kind man’s ruddy cheek. She was ready. They all were.
They formed a procession and followed Esther Reynolds’s flute music through a labyrinth of hallways and lined up as they’d rehearsed. Abby opened the double doors, and the music changed to the heavenly strains of a single violin.
Abby went first, a butterfly of a woman and Madeline’s first friend. Chelsea was next, so strong on the outside, so tender underneath.
It was Summer’s turn. She squeezed Madeline’s hand then stepped to the doorway, her right foot poised an inch off the floor.
All eyes were on her.
Her heart fluttered, but she didn’t panic, for her gaze went beyond the sea of faces, all the way to the front of church where Kyle was looking back at her. His back straight, his shoulders broad beneath his suit jacket, he stood with his brothers and another groomsman. Above his white shirt, he had the classic bone structure of the fabled gods in Greek mythology, chiseled nose and cheekbones, deep-set eyes and a poet’s mouth. But he was very much a human, very much a man. Her man.
As she started toward him, her right foot must have touched the floor. Her left foot, too. She couldn’t be floating. It only felt that way.
Candlelight flickered from the window ledges. Above
it the weak rays of the evening sun infused the air with the hazy purple, red and gold hues of the stained glass. Summer smelled apple blossoms. And she felt—
“Serena. Over here.”
She jolted and looked at the man who’d called her name. Her former name.
She blinked as a camera flashed. Only a few of the guests noticed she missed a step. Their attention had turned to the back of the church where Madeline was starting up the aisle on Aaron’s father’s arm.
Summer took her place at the front of the church. Chelsea and Abby both crinkled their eyebrows in silent question. She looked at Kyle, who had taken a step toward her. With one stern shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the wedding taking place.
From that moment on, Kyle didn’t hear a thing. Not music. Not the shuffling of feet, not a damn word the reverend said. Riley was the one who’d had a heart transplant. Before the ceremony was over, Kyle was going to need one, too, because he was pretty sure a hole had blown through his left ventricle.
He tried to see who had snapped Summer’s picture, but the weasel was hiding behind a woman wearing a big hat. Or were there others? He looked out at the sea of faces, and suddenly everyone was suspect.
He heard a throat being cleared.
Everyone was looking at him.
“Kyle?”
He glanced at Braden.
“They’re waiting for the rings, man.”
Oh.
Yeah.
The rings.
He fished into his pants pocket. He almost took out the wrong ring. By some stroke of luck, he managed to withdraw Madeline’s and Riley’s wedding bands without dropping them. As if they’d rehearsed it this way, Braden plucked the rings from Kyle’s palm and handed them to Reverend Brown.
The ceremony went on around Kyle. He supposed Reverend Brown addressed the wedding guests in some sort of a sermon. Riley and Madeline undoubtedly said, “I do.”
If there was more music, he didn’t hear it. Summer didn’t look at him again. He knew because he barely took his eyes off her.
He heard clapping. And then Riley and Madeline were walking from the church, hand in hand.
By rote, Kyle met Summer at the center of the aisle. He couldn’t read her expression as she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. At the back of the church, he recovered enough to clasp his brother in a bear hug and kiss his new sister-in-law’s smooth cheek.
All three of The Sources asked him what was wrong. He kissed each of them on the cheek, too. Summer stayed close to Madeline, greeting each of the guests who went through the receiving line. He kept watch for whoever had snapped her picture but saw no one now.
He lost Summer in the throngs of well-wishers moving between the church and the banquet hall next door. He caught sight of her slipping away from the crowd and finally caught up with her in a quiet little courtyard beside the church.
“I know how this looks,” he said.
Summer turned around and squinted into the setting sun. Shading her eyes with one hand, she said, “Oh, Kyle, there you are.”
Wait just a cotton-picking minute, Kyle thought. What was going on? Summer sounded tired but basically fine.
“I didn’t call the press. I haven’t told a soul.”
She looked up at him, her eyes pools of gray surrounded by coal-black lashes. “I never doubted you, Kyle.”
Summer watched the transformation that came over Kyle. His eyebrows came down. His chin went up a fraction. He was as handsome as she’d ever seen him in his hand-tailored suit. He smelled like the clean, brisk breeze. Once, she’d thought he was a risk. She’d been wrong.
“I didn’t doubt you when that camera flashed,” she said. “Why? Because the reporter in you would have dug into my background the first time your curiosity wasn’t satisfied. You’ve known who I am since that first morning you were here, haven’t you?” She hadn’t realized it at the time, but it made perfect sense now. He’d known, but instead of using it against her or to further his career or redeem it in some way, he’d guarded the information. He’d wanted her to trust him with it, with her love.
The sun was sinking and the shadows were lengthening. The dread that had held his shoulders and arms rigid turned to vapor, popping like the cork on a fine bottle of champagne. What remained after the bubbles cleared was the best part. What remained was the heart of the man Summer loved.
He moved closer, his body making contact, key contact with hers, arms, chest, hips, thighs. “I knew,” he said, “but if I didn’t contact the press, and I didn’t, who did?”
She started to shrug. Remembering those times throughout the years when she’d thought she was being followed, the answer became clear.
“Drake,” she said.
“Proctor,” Kyle said at the same time. “Your ex-fiancé knows where you are.”
Summer nodded. Drake probably did know. He’d probably always known. Her father would have known, too. Any investigator could have located her. She’d changed her name, but there were records. She didn’t think her father was responsible for the photographer at Madeline’s wedding, though. He’d had his revenge when he’d disowned her. The last she knew, he’d married again, a much younger woman this time. He now had a new daughter to use as collateral in future business deals.
Just then a shadow flickered at the edge of the courtyard. Kyle and Summer saw a stranger in a cheap suit and with his hair slicked back start to snap a picture.
They both looked at him, bored.
He lowered his camera as if even slime balls knew when there wasn’t a story to capture.
He slunk away, and Summer said, “I smell food.”
The reception was beginning in the banquet hall next door. She started toward it, but Kyle caught her hand in his and simply held it.
The breeze ruffled the fabric of her pink skirt and fluttered her five shades of brown hair. This wasn’t how he’d planned to do this. Some things didn’t need to be planned.
Smoothing his thumb in a circle on her wrist, he gently turned her so she was facing him. Reaching a hand into his pocket to make sure the ring was still there, he said, “I’ve been thinking. About making a career change.”
He had her undivided attention.
“It was Walter’s idea, so I can’t take the credit for the initial notion, but how would you feel about marrying a guy who’s about to become a partner in operating a newspaper in a small college town in mid-Michigan?”
“Did you slip a marriage proposal in there somewhere?” He looked into her eyes and nodded.
He took the smile spreading across her lips as a good sign. Although it might have been risky to bring up the second phase, he braved the risk and said, “I don’t know how you feel about children. But if you’re willing to give me a chance, I think I’d like to start filling those bedrooms in that inn of yours.”
There was a hitch in Summer’s breathing. What followed was the most amazing burst of possibilities. She hadn’t thought about children, at least not in the context of her own. She’d always been afraid, in the back of her mind, that she was like her father: flawed. Looking into Kyle’s green eyes, she saw herself the way he saw her, strong but cautious—and maybe a little wicked—but in a good way.
“You think we should turn the inn back into a house?” she whispered.
“Wasn’t that what it was always intended to be?” he asked.
He reached for her other hand. Bringing both her hands together gently in both of his, he stared into her eyes. “I never thought I would find someone like you, never dreamed I could feel this way. I love you. I love the way you daydream in the middle of the afternoon and stargaze in the middle of the night. I love your courage and I love your loyalty to your friends. Let me be as loyal to you. Would you marry me, Summer?”
The next thing Summer knew, she was staring at a diamond that caught the final rays of the setting sun. Her throat felt thick and her eyes dewy as she said, “I love you, too, and I’ll marry you, Kyle Merrick.” He slip
ped the ring on her finger and she whispered, “On one condition.”
He looked ready for any condition she could name.
She pushed the dark hair off his forehead. Letting her fingers trail down his face, she skimmed his lips. “Tell me a secret.”
Kyle rose to the challenge and whispered in her ear.
Her breath caught and her color heightened. Nobody in the world could make her blush but him. “I wonder if anybody would miss us if we slipped away from the reception for a little while.”
Taking her hand, Kyle led her toward the banquet hall, for what he had in mind was going to take longer than a little while. They joined Madeline and Riley and Chelsea and Abby and Walter and Harriet and the Sullivan brothers and Braden and Kyle’s mother and his stepmothers, too. They celebrated the marriage of two special people.
They danced, and they toasted to ever after. And they ate. Everybody loved the cake, but nobody loved it more than Summer and Kyle. As the sweet frosting melted in their mouths, their gazes met. Both were thinking about how they would celebrate when they got back to the inn.
They had the same vision in the back of their minds. What they had in store was going to last for the rest of their lives.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8929-5
A BRIDE UNTIL MIDNIGHT
Copyright © 2011 by Sandra E. Steffen
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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