The Wedding Planner's Baby (Sisters of Wishing Bridge Farm)

by Amanda Ashby

  “What else did the doctor say? Is everything okay?” Emmy asked.

  “Everything’s fine. I’m fit as a horse,” Bec said as a tear prickled in her eye. She suddenly remembered why she hadn’t wanted anyone to go with her to the doctor’s. Because sitting around and talking about it made things real. I’m really having a baby. Without Lincoln.

  “Oh no. What did I say? Are you okay?” Emmy’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I knew we shouldn’t have let you go on your own.”

  “I’m not crying.” Bec shook her head. “Well, I am, but I’m not sad. I’m fine.”

  “It could be hormones,” Pepper added. “I was reading about it last night. It’s perfectly normal.”

  Bec’s mouth dropped open as she wiped the unwanted tear away. “You were reading about my pregnancy?”

  “Oh, well, I couldn’t sleep, and I know you gave the books I bought you to Coop, so I thought I’d better start researching for myself, so that I know what you’re going through.” Pepper shrugged.

  “That’s so nice,” Emmy said.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” Pepper suddenly got to her feet and returned to the crystal vase she’d been looking at. “I’m going to be an aunt and a godmother. I just want to make sure Bec’s okay.”

  “I am,” Bec assured her. Okay, not quite the truth, but the last thing she wanted was for her sisters to worry about her even more than they already were. “And now we should probably get back to work. What’s next on the list?”

  Emmy and Pepper were quiet as they exchanged looks. Bec gulped. That couldn’t be good.

  Pepper finally spoke. “Everything’s going according to plan apart from one small problem. We still don’t have the name of the bride and groom for the Mathews wedding. Or a guest list. We’ve left him several messages, but there hasn’t been any reply. We thought that perhaps if you called…”

  “Oh.” Bec tried to ignore the way her skin prickled at just the mention of the wedding Lincoln had paid for. “He promised he wouldn’t let us down, and he still has one week left to get the information to the printers. I just don’t think I can talk to him right now.”

  Not without crying. Or begging. Or wishing that everything could be different.

  “Of course.” Emmy quickly nodded her head. “I’ll try calling him again. Actually, I’ll try right now.”

  “And I need to meet with the florist,” Pepper said. “You could come with me, if you wanted. If you don’t feel like being left alone.”

  “I think I’ll go down to the cottage for half an hour,” Bec said as she got to her feet and hurried out the door before her sisters could ask her any more questions. Weddings would have to wait. She needed some space and some time. And perhaps some ice cream, because right now nothing else was working.

  …

  Lincoln ran his hand through his hair and tried to remember the last time he’d left the office. It was probably at lunch, which meant he’d been looking at wedding websites for the last five hours. Not that he wanted to book a wedding. He already had one wedding too many still to deal with. But he’d promised Bec he wouldn’t let her down, and since he had failed in just about everything else, he was determined to get this one small thing right.

  Why didn’t I just tell her I love her? Screw the rest.

  Because I couldn’t make the words come out.

  He sighed and studied the screen. He’d started stalking the online sites of some of the local wedding planners in search of a stray bride and groom that might be lurking around. It hadn’t worked. All he’d discovered was weddings in his neck of the woods cost about six times the amount he’d paid to Bec and her sisters, and they didn’t look half as nice.

  He mentally pushed them to one side just as his mother walked into the room.

  After his call with Bec, he’d confronted his mother immediately, and while he hadn’t exactly forgiven her, an uneasy peace had formed between them. Ultimately, it wasn’t her fault. She’d planted the seeds of doubt, but he was the one who should’ve convinced Bec to dig those seeds out.

  And he’d failed. Because at the heart of it, he’d known she was right. He could never completely be Lincoln Mathews because he’d always be worrying about the estate. And if he did just walk out and leave it all behind, the guilt would eat him. Damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t.

  Unfortunately, she’d stopped him from even having to make that decision.

  And that was our last conversation.

  Forever to be etched in his mind. Despite Bec’s promises, it had been Emmy who had emailed him a photograph of the sonogram and an audio of the heartbeat, and it had been Pepper who had sent him crisp, short emails about the final plans for the wedding.

  None of which improved his mood.

  “Any luck?” His mother glanced over his shoulder to the website up on the screen.

  “No.” He shook his head and got to his feet.

  “Well, I have some news. I’ve arranged a small meal next week. To give you and Victoria a chance to spend time together.” His mother spoke delicately, like a fussy eater, cautious of what they might discover if they poked too much into their dinner.

  He clenched his fists. He’d known Victoria since they were kids, and there was nothing between them but friendship. However, she’d told him on more than one occasion she wasn’t romantic, and the idea of being Lady Ashford appealed to her.

  “Victoria knows my thoughts on the whole idea.” He walked across to the armchairs near the large bay window. Like everything else, they were faded but comfortable. “Bec’s the only one for me, and if it wasn’t for this cursed estate—”

  “I know, Lincoln. But I also know you’d never turn your back on this family. No matter how cursed it is. And I’m not suggesting you get engaged to Victoria on the spot, but just try it out for size.”

  “Is that what you’ve done your entire life?” he asked, for the first time noticing how tired she looked. “All the decisions you’ve made when you were dealing with my father’s scandals? When you were trying to deal with mine? Were you trying them on to see if it worked?”

  “First, nothing you have done will ever be close to what your father did. And for any part I played in driving a wedge between you and Bec, I’m truly sorry. I don’t blame her for disliking me.”

  “She doesn’t dislike you.” He let out a frustrated sigh. There had been a lot of them lately. “She’s not like that.”

  “I see. And what about you? Do you dislike me?”

  “I dislike the situation. It’s like a monster. A gigantic heavy monster trapped in a glass cage. It can’t be dropped, or it will break and the beast will escape.”

  “I know the feeling. Believe it or not, your father felt it, too.”

  “Really?” Lincoln lifted an eyebrow. They rarely spoke about his father, mainly because the impact he’d had on their lives was so overwhelming. His name and his exploits followed them everywhere like a second shadow, never letting them leave the darkness behind.

  “He wasn’t strong like you. He felt the obligations, but he had no idea how to shoulder them.”

  “And so he drowned his sorrows, created mayhem, and let us pick up the pieces. Let you pick up the pieces.” Lincoln clenched his fists as an oil painting of his father loomed out at him from across the room. It wasn’t a great image, but the blue eyes, soft and unfocused, were accurate.

  “There was one time when I wanted to just walk away from it all. Your father had been at the center of a scandal involving drugs and a call girl. You were about ten and Theo was six, and I was so close to just packing you both in the car and driving off without a backward glance.”

  Lincoln leaned forward in surprise. “Why didn’t you?”

  His mother started to laugh. “Would you believe the starter failed? Howard fixed it the next day—you know how amazing he is with his hands—and as I watched him work, it occurred to me that if I left, all the worry and concern would just fall on him. I’d be
giving him the burdens of my life. I couldn’t do it. So, I stayed.”

  “Actually,” Lincoln said as he widened his eyes, “I remember when he fixed the starter. It was a hot day.”

  “That’s right. It was only April, but there was a heat wave.” His mother nodded and Lincoln shut his eyes as memories flooded his mind. His mother had taken off the tailored jacket she normally wore. She was younger then, her hair longer, and he remembered her leaning forward to catch something Howard had said. It was like he was the only person in the world…

  “Hell.” Lincoln sat back as he recalled the conversation he’d had with Bec on Miller’s Cliff when she’d seen the photo of Howard and wondered if his mother had admired Howard. At the time, he’d discarded the idea, but now he sifted through his mind for more proof. Exchanged glances, lingering smiles. Sadness. He sucked in his breath. “You love him, don’t you?”

  It was more a statement than a question, and Lincoln’s jaw slackened as his mother’s veneer crumbled. When she looked up, her eyes were rimmed with tears. “I do. I have for a very long time. I suppose Bec told you.”

  “Not in so many words.” Lincoln tried to make sense of everything. His mother had been in love and ignored her feelings for the good of the estate. And he’d been oblivious to it all. Yet Bec had looked at one photograph and begun to wonder. “I still don’t understand. Why did you tell her and not me?”

  “I didn’t. Not intentionally. She figured it out while we were speaking. I do like her, you know.”

  “She likes you, too. Well, apart from being annoyed you never showed her the abbey.”

  His mother widened her eyes. “Why would she want to see that? It’s falling down.”

  “To us it’s falling down, but Bec views the world differently. She sees magic and moonlight. She couldn’t understand why we try to pretend this place is still a grand old mansion rather than what it really is—a gothic wreck. If she hadn’t dumped me, she probably would’ve tried to convince us to run ghost tours of the place. Regardless of the fact we don’t have any ghosts.”

  “Nope. Only skeletons,” Theo said as he wandered into the room with a tea tray. “Howard, asked me to bring this up to you both, though God knows what’s wrong with your own legs. And what’s this about ghost tours?”

  “Nothing. Lincoln’s just being foolish.” Their mother quickly stood up and took the tray from Theo, making herself busy with it. It was something she’d done on numerous occasions, and he’d always assumed she liked to fuss over them. But in light of her revelation about Howard, he wondered if she did it as a way of hiding.

  Years and years of hiding what she wanted and who she was.

  “Well, that’s a damn shame.” Theo shrugged as he sat down in the leather club chair and sprawled out his long legs. Lincoln leaned forward and frowned.

  “What are you talking about? Do you wish we were haunted? Because I, for one, can do without a ghost to deal with.”

  “No, I don’t want to be haunted. Well, not by an angry spirit. Though, if it was a good-looking debutante in one of those long white dresses, I might be interested.” Theo pondered before seeming to catch Lincoln’s narrow glare. “Okay, no ghosts. But if you were doing ghost tours it would be perfect for this location scout I know. He was only yesterday bemoaning how he couldn’t find a decent spooky building for love nor money. And when it comes to money, he has wheelbarrows of it.”

  His pulse pounded as he raised an eyebrow and studied Theo. “You know someone who might want to hire out the abbey? Why didn’t you say something sooner? We’re in crisis mode here.”

  “Yes, and for years you’ve both drummed it into my head that maintaining tradition and our genteel facade is essential to attract investors. I didn’t think camera crews and trucks and electrical cables lying everywhere would quite suit the vision. It would be like renting out the family jewels. Which, by the way, is also profitable.”

  Theo was right. Up until recently, he and his mother would’ve done anything to preserve the integrity of their family name. And where had it gotten them? Where had it gotten any of them? His father had drowned himself in alcohol and corruption to numb reality. To numb the fact he wasn’t living the life he wished to live. His mother had been in love with someone, never able to do something about it, and Lincoln had been rejected by the one girl he loved more than anything, all because of the bloody estate.

  It was all so pointless. His father had been a victim to the title, just like he was. He let out a hollow laugh as the bitter irony consumed him.

  I’m no different from my father.

  Yes, there were no scandals or debauchery, but he was as much a servant as his father had ever been. And all this time I’ve been kidding myself.

  A kind of rage passed through him, and while normally he would shake it off and accept it went with the territory, this time he let it sit deep within his belly.

  I’m sick of this monster. The title. All of it.

  He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before something moved. Just a small shift, as if someone had repositioned the weight. Just enough to give him some space—and clarity.

  Things are going to change. Right now.

  “Is everything okay?” His mother looked at him in alarm as he lifted his arms up into the air. He might not quite be dancing at midnight with bare feet, but he was close. He felt free.

  “No, but it will be. Theo, can you arrange a meeting with the location scout?”

  “Lincoln, you can’t be serious. You want us to rent the place out to the highest bidder?” The color drained from his mother’s face.

  “I do, and I’m sorry, but I’m sick of being held ransom by our past or what’s best for our future generations. I’m going to sort out the estate once for all. So that it suits us. And speaking of which, there’s something I need. Please call Victoria and cancel the dinner. We’re all going to a wedding.”

  “Can I at least ask whose wedding it is?”

  “You really don’t want to know,” Lincoln said as he took a deep breath. Bec said he was honorable and loyal and would always do what was right. He just hoped she’d forgive him for what he was about to attempt.

  …

  “Do you even know where you’re going?” Coop frowned as Bec randomly stuffed her snorkel into the backpack she’d dragged out from under the bed.

  “Nope.” She shook her head as she glanced over at the ukulele before discarding the idea. Ukuleles were the kind of thing that made you smile, and she couldn’t see that happening any time soon.

  She’d been foolish to think that she’d be able to handle hearing the news that Lincoln had finally found a bridal couple for the wedding.

  Because I so can’t.

  He’d called Pepper yesterday and said that he’d have the entire guest list and the name of the bride and groom for them tomorrow.

  Hence her road trip was starting today.

  “You could just ask him who the couple is,” Coop said in a soft voice, proving that he did know her better than she knew herself.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Because that would involve speaking to him, and then the tiny slice of sanity that I have would disappear altogether.”

  “Yes, but it could be the butler.”

  “He doesn’t have a butler. Or an upper chambermaid. All he has is a mountain of debt and a potential way out of it,” Bec said, proud of the way her voice didn’t shake.

  “Anyone who saw you two together knows he wouldn’t marry anyone else,” Coop said, obviously deciding to try another path. “I’m sure he’s found another solution to save the estate.”

  Yes, but he hasn’t found a solution to being with me.

  “Look, I know that logically what you’re saying is right, but I just can’t be here,” she said in a firm voice and reached for the sunscreen. She’d read an article recently that winter sun was just as damaging as summer, and since she was about to become a mother, she had to be sensible.

  “You’re not going to change you
r mind, are you?” Coop climbed off the bed and began to pace the room, a restless energy rolling off him.

  “Nope.” Bec’s eyes widened. “Hey, you should come with me. It could be a road trip. Like old times.”

  “No thanks. All our road trips have resulted in you getting speeding tickets and me paying for them. Okay, and I can see Pepper walking down the hill, which is my cue to leave.” Coop stepped away from the window and Bec sighed. Pepper had been on the warpath all day, turning the preparations for an engagement party that Emmy had booked into a military operation.

  “Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow once I’ve reached my destination, and I’ll be back once it’s all over,” Bec said as she thrust her trusty alligator into her backpack. Its tail stuck out the top, but she didn’t care.

  “Just don’t go too far,” Coop warned, just as Pepper walked in. The pair of them exchanged a glance, reminding Bec of two alley cats sizing each other up. When she got back from her trip, she needed to sit the pair of them down once and for all.

  “Miss Dottie has booked out her entire bed and breakfast, along with half the town, for when the wedding party arrives. The rehearsal dinner has been confirmed at Beer and Cupcakes… And why am I seeing a backpack on your bed?”

  “You know why, Pepper. I’m sorry. I just can’t be here for any of it. Not to hear who the bride and groom are, not to worry if he’ll like the font we selected for the menu.” Not to be reminded that the man I want is the one I can’t have. “And before you give me the whole running away speech, I’m coming back when it’s all over. So, save your breath.”

  Pepper folded her arms, two splotches of color mounting on her cheeks. “Is that what you think the speech is about? Me trying to stop you from physically running away?”

  “Well, yes,” Bec was surprised into saying. “That’s exactly what it means.”

  Pepper shook her head. “No it isn’t. I don’t care if you leave your physical location, but you keep running away from the truth. Everything you do is quick, Bec. The speed you drive, the way you walk. Your habit of globetrotting. You jump from one thing to the next to stop yourself from seeing what’s right under your nose.”