One day.
Back in the kitchen, she reached for the kettle. First priority was a comforting mug of tea, accompanied by a long soak in a warm bath. She could sort out her laundry tomorrow night after work. For now, she was going to be totally self-indulgent.
Five minutes later, warm, rose-scented water enveloped her, and at last she could set her thoughts free.
Unfortunately, her thoughts zeroed straight to Kent Rigby.
She let out the loud groan she’d been holding in for two whole days, ever since the road-side revelation on Friday evening. All weekend, honest to God, she’d tried unbelievably hard to stop liking Kent.
It should have been easy. He was her best friend’s fiancé, and Zoe had already dated a previously engaged man. She’d been burned. Horribly. After she’d dated Rodney for several months and helped him to get over his break-up, he’d moved in with her and she’d been deeply in love with him. Then she’d come home unexpectedly early one evening and found him in bed with Naomi, his former fiancée.
Rodney the Rat.
Never again would Zoe set herself up for that kind of heartache.
So why hadn’t she found the ‘off’ switch for her attraction to Bella’s fiancé?
It was ridiculous, as if she’d contracted a mutant strain of a virus that was resistant to all known treatments.
The truth was that deep down she was genuinely thrilled for Bella. Willara Downs was the lifestyle her friend had been born into. Bella’s parents had always lived in the district. Her father would soon be out of hospital and home on his farm, and her grandfather still lived in an aged care facility in Willara township. On top of that, the Shaw and Rigby properties were adjoining and so Bella and Kent had the whole dynasty thing happening.
Beyond all these practical considerations, Bella and Kent were so sweet together, and so very at ease. Maybe they weren’t all touchy-feely, but that was to be expected when others were around. Just the same, it was clear as daylight that they belonged together.
Without question, Bella fitted in. She’d found where she belonged, while once again, as always, Zoe was the outsider.
Oh, God.
Zoe dunked her face under the water to wash away her stupid tears. She had to get a grip. Had to stop this nonsense now.
Curse that flat tyre.
This problem would never have arisen if she and Bella had driven to the homestead together. If Bella had been there, from the moment Zoe met Kent she would have known who he was, and the first thing she would have seen was Kent embracing his bride-to-be. She would have been excited for Bella, and her heart would have stayed safely immune to Kent’s charms.
Instead, cruel fate had delivered her a punctured tyre and twenty minutes alone with a wonderful man who’d arrived like a gift from heaven.
She kept reliving that thrilling moment—only a few seconds admittedly—when their gazes had connected. She could have sworn something huge and earth-shattering had passed between them.
Had it all been in her stupid head?
She hated to admit that she’d deluded herself, but there was no other explanation. Thank heavens Kent hadn’t noticed.
His behaviour had been beyond reproach. He’d been unfailingly polite and friendly to Zoe, and he’d been wonderful about her damaged tyre, organising a replacement to be sent out from a garage in Willara and then fitting it for her.
Appropriately, he’d devoted the bulk of his attention to Bella. There’d been no sign that he was remembering the moment when he and Zoe had looked into each other’s eyes and the world had stopped.
And she was going to be just as sensible.
It was time for self-discipline and maturity. Time to get a grip on reality.
Kent-slash-man-of-her-dreams-Rigby was going to marry her best friend in less than two months and she, Zoe Weston, was going to be their happy, loyal, non-jealous, and perfect-in-every-way bridesmaid.
Kent couldn’t breathe. Pinned at the bottom of a dark muddy pool, he could feel his lungs bursting, his legs thrashing. He couldn’t see a thing. Couldn’t hear anything either, just a dull roaring in his head.
Fear, blacker than the night, pressed down with a weighty and smothering hand.
He fought, struggling, gasping … shooting awake out of a tangle of sheets.
He dragged in air. His heart raced, but he wasn’t panicking. He knew it would slow down soon. He was used to this dream. He knew its familiar pattern, even though he had no real memories of almost drowning in Willara Creek.
The dreams were based on what his family had told him—that he’d been pinned under a rock and Tom Shaw had saved him, and that little Bella had been there, white-faced and sobbing.
Don’t let Kent die. Please, please don’t let him die …
It was years later, in his teens, that the dreams had begun. By then it had finally sunk in that all life was tenuous and that Kent’s own life had nearly ended when he was six years old.
A kid showing off. All over red rover. Then a man with good instincts diving down and dragging him free.
Tom Shaw had given Kent a second chance at life, and with that gift had come responsibility.
The dreams never let Kent forget. He owed. Big time.
To: Kent Rigby
Subject: Caterers etc.
Dear Kent,
Thanks for your kind hospitality on the weekend. It was great meeting you and having the chance to see where the wedding will take place.
I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that my spare car tyre held up splendidly, so thanks for your help with that as well.
As you know, I had a good chat with your mother about the best caterers to approach for the wedding and I’ve rung them all and am sending you their quotes as an attachment for your perusal.
I showed the quotes to Bella, but she has enough to think about with finding her dress and worrying about her dad and she’s more than happy to leave the planning details to us.
I thought the menu supplied by Greenslades sounded delicious and it also provides a range of dishes to suit most tastes, but they’re a little more expensive than the others.
I’m also sending a link to a website with the table settings that Bella and I think will be perfect. If you like them, I’ll go ahead and place an order.
Oh, and are you still happy to use the homestead verandas if there’s a threat of rain, or would you like me to look into hiring a marquee?
If there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know.
Kind regards,
Zoe Weston
To: Zoe Weston
Hi Zoe,
Thanks for your email with the quotes and the link. Has it occurred to you that you may have missed your calling as a wedding planner?
I agree that the Greenslades menu is a standout, so let’s go with them, especially as they’re based in Toowoomba and they can send out a mobile kitchen. Great find.
The table settings look terrific—I’m happy to go with whatever you girls choose.
Zoe, you might be Bella’s best friend, but I think you’ve just become mine, too. Such a load off my mind to have this sorted so quickly and easily.
Cheers
Kent
P.S. I was wondering—do you have a favourite colour?
To: Kent Rigby
Subject: Re: Caterers etc.
Dear Kent,
All the bookings are made and both Greenslades and the Perfect Day hire company will be sending you their invoices with details about deposits etc.
Ouch. I hope you don’t get too much of a shock.
I’m leaving the ordering of drinks to you. Bella and I will look after the flower arrangements and decorations. So now the major details are planned, but I’d also like to have a bridal shower and a hens’ party for Bella, so there’
s a bit more to be sorted. I guess you and your best man will be having a bucks’ night?
As Bella has probably told you, she’s found a dress she loves, so it looks as if everything is coming together.
I can’t imagine why you want to know my favourite colour. I’m not even sure I can answer that question. It depends if you’re talking about a colour to wear, or a colour to look at. It can make quite a difference, you know.
Regards,
Zoe
To: Zoe Weston
Hi Zoe,
Once again, thanks for all your help. I can’t imagine how this wedding could have happened without you.
As for the question about your favourite colour, I’m afraid I can’t really explain. It’s a small but pleasant task Bella has assigned to me.
That’s a fascinating observation you’ve made about colours. For now, could you give me both your favourite colour to wear and your favourite colour to look at? Cheers Kent
On the following Saturday morning, Bella bought her wedding dress. Zoe had been with her when she’d first seen the dress on the previous Saturday, and they’d loved it. Twice during the week Bella had been back to the shop to look at it again, and now she’d dragged Zoe along with her to approve her final decision.
‘Each time I see it, I love it more,’ Bella had confided, and as Zoe watched her parade across the store’s plush carpet she totally understood why. The floor-length gown was very simple, but its elegant lack of fussiness totally suited Bella’s blond, country-girl beauty. Its style, with beautifully embroidered straps and Grecian draping, was perfect for an outdoor country wedding.
‘Kent will adore you in this,’ Zoe said as she pictured Bella coming across the lawn to her waiting bridegroom. ‘You’ll stop him in his tracks.’
She was proud that she said this with a genuine smile, although putting the Kent nonsense out of her thoughts hadn’t been as easy as she’d expected. Emails in which he asked about her favourite colour hadn’t helped.
She still hadn’t answered that one. It was silly of her, but it felt too … personal.
‘This is definitely the dress for me,’ Bella said, giving a final twirl to admire her reflection in the full-length mirror.
She paid for her dress with her credit card, then linked her arm through Zoe’s. ‘OK, it’s your turn now. We have to find something really lovely for you.’
Abruptly, in the middle of the salon, Bella stopped. ‘Have I told you how incredibly grateful I am for everything you’re doing to help? Kent told me how brilliant you’ve been.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it,’ Zoe said honestly. ‘So far, it hasn’t been a huge job. Really.’
‘But it’s such a relief to know it’s all in hand,’ Bella said. ‘Since my dad got sick, I’ve been rather distracted.’
‘That’s why I was happy to help.’
‘You’re one in a million. You know that, don’t you?’
It was hard not to bask in the warmth of
Bella’s smile. Zoe found it incredibly reassuring to be appreciated, to feel needed and important.
Businesslike once more, Bella turned to a rack of dresses. ‘I thought if we chose something that didn’t scream bridesmaid, you’d be able to wear it afterwards. Colour-wise, I was wondering about—’
Bella paused, looking at a row of dresses, and Zoe waited. Even though she hadn’t answered Kent’s question about colours, she rather liked pink. She knew lots of girls avoided pink like the plague, but she’d always thought the colour brought out the rosy tones in her skin and went rather well with her dark hair. So, she was thinking of a pretty shade of pink when Bella said, ‘Green.’
‘Green?’
Bella nodded emphatically. ‘I can really see you in green, Zoe. It suits you beautifully. And it’s so fresh, just right for a country wedding.’
Yes, green was fresh, no doubt about that. But it was also the colour of grass and trees, and there were rather a lot of both in the country. In the outdoors, green would work like camouflage, wouldn’t it?
Worse, wasn’t green the colour of jealousy? Oh, cringe. Zoe had worked extremely hard to rid herself of any jealousy. Even so, green was the last colour she wanted to wear to this particular wedding.
Bella was frowning at her. ‘Don’t you like green? I thought you loved it. That long green scarf of yours looks stunning with your black winter coat.’
But I won’t be wearing my black winter coat, Zoe wanted to remind her. We’re supposed to be choosing a dress for a spring garden wedding. If not something with a hint of pink, why not a pretty pale primrose?
Not that Zoe would actually say any of this out loud, not when she was still, in spite of her minor problem re the groom, trying to be the perfect, considerate bridesmaid.
With a pang of guilt, she remembered the Monday morning, almost two weeks ago now, when Bella had asked her to be her bridesmaid. She’d been ready to wear anything then, even a black plastic garbage bag.
Somewhat ashamed, she said, ‘I’m sure a pale apple green could be very nice.’
‘Hmm.’ Bella was looking less certain now. ‘I must admit I hardly wear green myself.’ Already, she was heading over to a rack of pretty pastels. ‘Our high-school uniform was green, so I had an overdose of it in my teenage years.’
‘Oh,’ Zoe gasped and smacked the side of her forehead. ‘I’d almost forgotten until you mentioned your high school. I had a message on Facebook from one of your old school friends.’
‘Really?’ Bella was already at a rack, reaching for a coat hanger with a rather pretty pink dress.
‘I posted a message on Facebook, you see, about how excited I was to be a bridesmaid at a country wedding near Willara. I didn’t actually mention Willara Downs and I didn’t give full names, but I said the bride was my best friend, Bella. I hope you don’t mind, Bell.’
‘No, of course I don’t mind. So who was it?’
‘A guy. I think he’s been living somewhere overseas, but he said he used to know a girl called Bella Shaw at Willara High and he wondered if she was my friend getting married.’
Bella was suddenly very still and she shot Zoe a strangely nervous glance.
‘I haven’t replied to him,’ Zoe said, cautiously.
‘What’s his name?’ Bella’s voice was barely above a whisper now.
‘I’m trying to remember. I think it might have been David. No, that’s not right. Maybe Damon? Yes, I’m pretty sure it was Damon.’
‘Damon Cavello?’
‘Yes, that’s it. I—’ Zoe stopped, shocked into silence by the sight of Bella’s deathly pale face and the coat hanger slipping from her hands, landing on the bridal salon’s white carpet in a sea of frothy pink chiffon.
‘Bell?’ With a pang of dismay, Zoe bent down to pick up the fallen gown before any of the store’s assistants noticed. ‘Bella?’ she repeated as she slipped the gown’s straps onto the hanger and returned it to its rightful place on the rack. ‘What’s the matter?’
Bella gave a convulsive little shudder, then the colour rushed back into her face. ‘Nothing. Nothing’s the matter,’ she said quickly. ‘I just got a surprise. It’s so long since I’ve heard from D-Damon.’
As she stammered his name her cheeks turned deep pink.
‘Who is he?’ Zoe had to ask. ‘A high-school sweetheart?’
With a startled laugh, Bella whipped her gaze back to the rack, and began, rather distractedly, to check out the dresses. ‘God, no. We were just friends.’
‘Right.’ Zoe frowned as she watched Bella’s hands, with their smart navy-blue nail polish and sparkling diamond engagement ring, swish along the coat hangers.
Bella turned to her, eyes extra bright. ‘When did you say Damon wrote to you?’
‘I found his message when I got home from work last night.’
‘But you haven’t written back to him?’
‘Not yet. I thought I’d better che
ck with you first. I wasn’t sure he was someone you wanted to know.’
‘Of course you can answer him. There’s no problem. Damon’s—fine.’
Bella sounded calm enough on the surface, but something wasn’t right. Zoe could sense her inner tension.
‘Damon was always a bit of a daredevil.’ Bella spoke a little too casually, as if she needed to prove she was mega cool about this subject. ‘He moved back to Brisbane in the middle of his final year, and he went on to study journalism. He’s been overseas for years—as a foreign correspondent, specialising in all the worst trouble spots.’
‘He sounds like an adventurer.’
Softly, Bella said, ‘I hate to think of the things he must have seen.’
Zoe nodded, still puzzled by the tension Bella couldn’t quite disguise. ‘I think he might be heading back to Australia,’ she said. ‘Or he could even be on his way already. So is it OK to pass on your email address?’
‘Of course.’ This time Bella gave an offhand shrug, as if Zoe had been trying to make Mount Everest out of a molehill.
Lifting a very pretty coffee-and-cream floral dress from the rack, she said, ‘If Damon’s back in Australia, he’s bound to come out to Willara. His father doesn’t live there any more, but his grandmother’s in the same old folks’ home as my grandad, and I’m sure he’ll want to visit her. They’ve always been close. His gran shows me all the postcards he sends her.’
‘That’s nice.’
Bella bit her lip and gave an uncertain smile.
‘Would you invite him to the wedding?’ Zoe asked.
‘Heavens, no.’ A strange snorting laugh broke from Bella. ‘He wouldn’t be interested in my marriage.’ Then her eyes met Zoe’s and she frowned. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Zoe. Damon’s not the type to enjoy a romantic country wedding.’
‘OK. Just asking. I thought he might have been an old friend of Kent’s, that’s all.’
She heard the hiss of her friend’s sharply indrawn breath.
‘Well, yes,’ Bella admitted, almost reluctantly. ‘Kent and Damon were mates at one time, so I suppose I should tell Kent.’ She sighed. ‘Actually, he’ll probably want to include Damon.’
Bridesmaid Says, I Do! Page 4