Love at Mistletoe Inn

by Cindy Kirk

  But it was that desire for closeness that had gotten her into this situation in the first place.

  His gaze met hers. “I was surprised when I came out of the shower to discover you’d left.”

  “I needed time to think.” She attempted to banish a sudden image of how he’d look with beads of water dotting his sleek muscles. Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “I thought I’d stand a better chance of thinking clearly with my clothes on.”

  His low, rumbling laugh had her smile widening into a reluctant grin.

  John’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Did you?”

  She tilted her head.

  “Do some thinking?” he clarified.

  When Hope shifted to face him, her leg bumped his. Warmth flowed from his body into hers. She told herself even if she wanted to move out of reach, there wasn’t room.

  A crow cawed overhead and the scent of basil and rosemary teased her nostrils. From where Hope sat, she could see pumpkins in the garden, almost ready to be put on the porch with bound shafts of wheat. It all looked so normal. Yet she felt as if her life would never be normal again.

  “I went to see Reid Mueller this morning. He’s an attorney on Market Street. Very well regarded,” she added when she saw his brows draw together. “Specializes in family law.”

  John’s foot pushed off the wooden floorboards and the swing moved back and forth. “What did you and Mr. Mueller discuss?”

  Unexpected tears pushed at the backs of Hope’s eyes. She blinked rapidly and took a moment to steady her breath. “Annulment. Divorce.”

  John’s face looked as if it had been carved from granite. He reached out, then pulled his hand back as if rethinking the movement. “Those were the only options you discussed?”

  This time, she drew her brows together. “What others are there?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he began, his tone holding a hint of sarcasm. “Perhaps—”

  “I didn’t realize the two of you were out here.” Aunt Verna stepped out onto the porch, a smile lighting her face.

  John started to get up but she motioned him down. “You stay right where you are. I’ll pull over a chair and we can all sit and visit. It’ll be like old times.”

  Aunt Verna took a potted plant from the seat of a lightweight wicker chair and moved it close to the swing. She wore a skirt of teal and brown with a distinctive southwestern flavor.

  This was the woman Hope had known and loved for as long as she could remember. The friend and comforter who’d always been interested in what she had to say and who’d always had her back.

  She saw the question in her aunt’s eyes and knew the time had come to tell her everything. Verna would be disappointed in her behavior, but she was family. And family stuck together.

  “Verna, John and I have something to tell you.”

  A half smile formed on the older woman’s lips. Interest sparked in those pale blue eyes. “Sounds intriguing.”

  “The night of our senior prom, Hope and I got dressed up but we didn’t go to the high school.” John spoke while Hope was still trying to push the confession past her lips. “Instead, we drove to Boise and got married. We were in love and didn’t want to wait.”

  Aunt Verna’s eyes widened. Her astonished gaze shifted from John to Hope, then back to John. “Married?”

  “We thought it wasn’t legal,” Hope said quickly. “We just found out it was.”

  With the words tumbling out, Hope did her best to give her aunt the condensed version of what had occurred. “We planned to rent an apartment in Boise and attend college in the fall. The way we saw it, two could live as cheaply as one.”

  “Hope had second thoughts shortly after we’d said our vows,” John interjected when she paused for breath. “Buddy said as long as he didn’t send in the license and marriage certificate to the courthouse, it wouldn’t be legal. We recently discovered that was incorrect information.”

  “Oh, my dear ones. What were you thinking? Getting married by a man who was ordained online? Even if you wanted a simple ceremony, you should have at least gotten a proper minister.”

  A proper minister?

  Hope swallowed a nervous giggle. She’d just confessed that she’d skipped her high-school prom to get married at eighteen, and the only concern her aunt expressed was about the minister? Though Hope had to admit that a proper minister would have known it was legal the moment he’d pronounced them husband and wife.

  “All these years we’ve gone on as if the events of that night never happened,” Hope continued, ignoring her aunt’s comment. “Then, on Saturday, I overheard Amity speaking to a woman about a similar issue. Amity insisted that even if the forms weren’t sent in, the marriage would still be legal. I called this morning and discovered she was correct and Buddy was wrong. That’s when I went to speak with an attorney.”

  “First, you told me,” John corrected.

  Disappointment filled Aunt Verna’s eyes when she turned and looked at him. “You urged her to see an attorney.”

  “We both believe it’s good to have all the relevant information,” was all John said.

  “I met with Reid Mueller.” Hope didn’t need to say anything further about the man or his reputation. Her aunt had mentioned on more than one occasion that Reid had been in her Sunday school class when he was in third grade. Apparently the prominent attorney had been what her aunt kindly referred to as a “handful.”

  “He told me we’d have to get a divorce.”

  Verna raised a brow. “Not an annulment?”

  Once again, Hope felt heat begin a slow but steady rise up her neck. “No, ah, an annulment isn’t a possibility.”

  “The marriage has been consummated.”

  Was that satisfaction she heard in the woman’s voice?

  “That’s correct,” John said when the silence lengthened.

  “Do you want a divorce?” Aunt Verna’s gaze shifted between them, and it wasn’t clear which one of them she’d asked.

  Hope straightened. “Of course I don’t want a divorce, but we didn’t really plan to be married, and—”

  Verna raised a hand, silencing her. “I seem to be confused about some parts of the story. Let me clarify. At eighteen, when you were both considered legal adults, you and John went to the courthouse and obtained a marriage license. Is that correct?”

  Hope flushed, experiencing the full impact of her aunt’s unblinking gaze. The look was the same one she’d given her when Hope had insisted it wasn’t her fault that the horses had gotten out because the latch was defective.

  The excuse hadn’t worked then, and Hope had no doubt she was about to go down in flames again.

  Hope moistened her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. “That’s correct.”

  “You secured the services of a minister, and I use that term very loosely in this case, and drove to Boise where you said your vows.” Verna’s gaze narrowed on John as if letting him know Hope wasn’t alone on the hot seat. “Is that correct?”

  John nodded.

  “Tell me, how is that not planning to get married?”

  Hope chewed on her lower lip.

  “And you consummated the marriage even though you believed it wasn’t legal.”

  “No. No,” Hope said quickly. “It was only after we knew we were married that we—”

  She stopped, but it was already too late.

  “You confirmed this morning the marriage was legal.” Verna nodded her head sagely. “Which means it was just today that you—”

  “I believe you’ve got a good grasp of the timeline,” John interrupted, and Hope shot him a grateful look. “This has been a stressful day for Hope. I see no purpose in more questions.”

  Verna’s gaze settled on John and something that almost looked like approval lit her eyes. “I see no need to hurry into a decision. You’ve both seen what can happen when you rush. Though I must admit, I always thought you’d be good together.”

  “You did?” John’s voice held a note of sh
ock.

  Confusion made Hope’s voice soft. “You never told me.”

  Aunt Verna waved a dismissive hand. “I encourage you both to speak with Pastor Dan and to give this decision time and a lot of prayer. Divorce doesn’t need to be your first choice. Take time to get to know each other. Give your marriage a chance. You spoke vows. Consummated the union. Shouldn’t you at least see if you can make the marriage work?”

  “I don’t think—” Hope began.

  “John is right. We’ve talked enough about this issue for today.” Verna gazed thoughtfully at the two of them. Her lips curved. “Besides, I have some exciting news of my own. I have the perfect couple for Pastor Dan to marry at Mistletoe Inn this Christmas.”

  “Wow, that didn’t take you long.” John pounced on the change in topic with the enthusiasm of a man about to go under for the third time.

  “They’re lucky to have Pastor Dan officiate.” Hope’s expression turned dreamy. “His sermon on love always brings tears to my eyes.”

  “This will be a small wedding but a lovely one officiated by a true man of God.” Her gaze lingered on Hope. “Every woman deserves to have that special day.”

  “Who’s the couple?” John asked. “Anyone I know?”

  Hope knew he didn’t give a fig; he was probably just as glad as she was that Verna’s attention was now focused on a different couple.

  “Names?” Aunt Verna asked, seeming oddly perplexed at the simple question.

  “The names of the couple who’ll be married at Mistletoe Inn?” Hope prompted.

  “Oh.” Her aunt’s lips lifted in a slight smile. “Luke and Laura,” she said, then repeated the names with more surety. “Luke and Laura.”

  “That’s funny.”

  Verna lifted a brow.

  Hope grinned. “Don’t you remember? That’s the couple from General Hospital, the soap you used to watch every afternoon.”

  “What a coincidence.” Verna gave a little trill of a laugh. “They, ah, won’t be around much so I’m going to require both of you to be involved in the preparations.”

  Hope narrowed her eyes. “Why won’t they be around?”

  “They’re . . . deployed,” Verna announced. “But they’ll be back at Christmas.”

  “I should hope so,” John said with a wry chuckle. “If they’re getting married it would probably be a good idea for them to show up.”

  Aunt Verna nodded, her smile appearing overly bright. “Exactly so.”

  “What kind of help will you need with the preparations?” Hope asked.

  “Oh, little things like picking out the wedding dress and the tuxedo. We can go tomorrow if you’re both free.”

  “You want us to choose what they’re going to wear to their wedding?” John asked. “Don’t they have family for that?”

  “I’m afraid there’s no one except us.” Verna’s gaze shifted between John and Hope. “I’m counting on both of you to help me. I want this to be as special as if we were doing it for ourselves.”

  Boise Bride and Groom was a full-service shop on West Emerald Street that catered to both sides of the wedding party. When they reached the front door of the shop, John stopped and held up a hand, his gaze focused on Verna.

  This was his last chance to get out of this ridiculous errand. “Since you have Luke’s clothing and shoe size, you don’t really need me. I’ll pick you up when you’re finished. Just call—”

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever asked much of you.” Verna spoke in a quiet tone that gave him pause. “I want this wedding to be something very special for these two young people. Picking out a tux or a suit from a brochure isn’t the same as seeing it on a person. As I stated on our way here, you and Luke are the same size and build.”

  While John had been speaking, Hope’s mouth had opened as if to second his comments. She closed it without saying a word. Since she’d tossed out the D word on the porch last evening, Hope hadn’t said much, even during dinner that evening.

  The conversation at the table had been like a trip down memory lane. Verna had kept the conversation flowing as she brought up adventures the three of them had shared over the years.

  Emotions had flooded back as Verna recounted biking trips along the Boise River Greenbelt, excursions to the World Center for Birds of Prey, and visits to the Old Idaho Penitentiary, including one at night, just before Halloween their senior year.

  John realized that while he and Hope had never run out of things to say, they’d rarely spoken of anything substantial, including past heartaches and dreams for the future. They’d been too focused on simply being in love. Just like now, the air practically sizzled when they were in the same room. But Hope had been determined back then to wait until they were married to make love, and he’d respected that decision.

  A part of him wondered if that’s why she’d been so eager to marry him . . . just so she could have her way with him. The thought made him smile. She’d certainly wasted no time embracing the benefits of married life yesterday.

  “Well?” he heard Verna ask.

  John grinned. “Let’s do it.”

  “That’s what I like to see,” Verna said in satisfaction. “A positive attitude.”

  As they strode into the elegant shop, John realized that by running off the way they did, not only had Hope been cheated out of all this, Verna had been cheated too. The knowledge that he hadn’t considered anyone’s feelings but his own was sobering.

  Though they’d both felt mature and ready to take that step, looking at the situation now, John could see just how immature they’d been. He’d loved Hope and that hadn’t changed. But back then he hadn’t known what he wanted to do with his life, hadn’t even begun to become the man he was now.

  If they’d stayed together, would she have become a CPA? Would he have discovered his talent for metal sculpture?

  He liked to think if they’d stayed together they would have found a way to make it work. He really wanted to believe that . . .

  “Instead of explaining everything to the clerk, let’s let them assume you and Hope are the bridal couple,” Verna suggested.

  Hope frowned. “Why would we do that?”

  “Perhaps because I don’t want to hear all the General Hospital comments,” Verna said in a lighthearted tone. “I also don’t feel like going into a lengthy explanation with one store clerk after another about Luke and Laura’s deployment.”

  “I don’t like to lie—” Hope began hesitantly.

  “I hoped this could be fun.” Verna’s expression had taken on that pinched look that usually indicated a migraine was on its way.

  “We’ll do it your way,” John said in a soothing tone. He shot a glance at Hope. “It’ll be faster.”

  Something passed between them. It was the way it used to be when they could practically read each other’s minds.

  Hope looped her arm through her aunt’s. “This will be fun. I mean, what woman doesn’t like to try on a bunch of pretty dresses?”

  They decided to pick out the tux first since that would go more quickly. Separate from the bridal salon, the tuxedo shop had a more masculine feel with dark-stained wood and fewer indoor plants. No one raised an eyebrow when Verna and Hope began pointing to various tuxedos they liked.

  John drew the line at white tuxes, brightly colored vests, and bow ties. Once those were eliminated, he tried on a variety.

  After fifteen minutes, he stepped out of the dressing room in a black mirage tuxedo, Abboud fullback vest, and black Windsor tie. The look of awe on Hope’s face told him this was the one.

  “Oh my.” Hope glanced at Verna. “He looks incredible.”

  “Very handsome.” Verna gave a decisive nod. Then she surprised him by stepping forward and resting her hand on his cheek. “I wish your mother could be here now.”

  “Yeah, it’d be a proud moment.” John swallowed past the unexpected lump in his throat and forced a tone of levity. “To see her son shopping for wedding clothes for another guy.”


  Verna ignored the comment. “She’d have been proud of the man you’ve become.”

  “Thank you, th—” John cleared his throat and began again. “That means a lot.”

  “Since we have John’s, I mean Luke’s, attire decided,” Hope said with a little smile, “I believe it’s my turn to play dress-up.”

  “Are you really . . . excited?” John asked Hope in a low tone as Verna finalized this part of the order with the clerk.

  Hope looked slightly embarrassed. “Let’s just say I’ve decided to embrace the moment. I must confess that when I was a little girl, my friends and I often played wedding dress-up. I’d imagine myself in a beautiful white gown . . .”

  The light from her eyes faded but a hint of a smile remained on her lips. “Kid stuff.”

  He wondered if a high-school prom dress in red had ever been part of her wedding fantasies. He’d guess running away in the darkness, lying to family and friends, and being married by a guy with a goatee named Buddy had never played a part . . .

  Strange he’d never considered any of that at the time. Proof that he hadn’t been as mature as he thought.

  John returned to the dressing room to change. As he tugged off the shirt and vest, he found himself wishing that he could give Hope the wedding of her dreams.

  But it was too late now. Ten years too late.

  Stacee, the salesclerk on the bridal side, was a pretty young woman in her midtwenties with light brown hair and big blue eyes. She stared at John with a horrified expression. “You—you’re going to help her pick out the dress?”

  John angled his head. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

  The young woman hesitated and cleared her throat. “Some consider it bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony.”

  “I’m not—” Hope saw John pause as Aunt Verna leveled a long, pointed look in his direction. “—superstitious.”

  “Me either,” Hope chimed in.

  Stacee’s smile froze on her face. “Well, then let’s get started.”

  Hope tried on so many dresses that after a while they began to blend together. Still, she had to admit she was having fun. Verna’s mood was upbeat and she insisted on helping Hope into the gowns. John played the part of Luke-the-attentive-groom to perfection.