New Year's Wedding

by Muriel Jensen

  She held on to the railing as she walked upstairs because there were puddles there, too, and at the nearest edge of the loft floor. Mercifully, the bed and everything beyond it seemed to have been spared.

  She opened the wardrobe closet and felt a small quiver of happiness at the sight of her dress, still in its plastic sleeve from Bay Boutique, dry and unharmed. Folded beside it on the floor of the closet was the dung-green raincoat Grady had lent her. She guessed she had little choice but to wear it.

  Not that she hadn’t modeled summer clothing and bathing suits in downright cold conditions in her work, but there’d always been someone standing by with a warm blanket to wrap her in. And this wasn’t a photo shoot.

  Today was one of those real times Grady lived in fear of, the kind that shook you to your core and reminded you that life was risky. Anything could happen at any time, and if you didn’t want to get hurt or disappointed, or ever lose anything, you stuck to a safe plan. Took no chances. Stayed with what’s familiar. Didn’t let yourself be vulnerable.

  She blew out air and went to the railing to look down at the destruction to Grady’s great room. Wouldn’t it be horrid if he was right, after all? She’d thought she was being prepared and taking no chances on a perfect wedding when she’d stored extra batteries for the chandeliers in the little drawer. Chandeliers and other beautiful things were familiar to her. So, technically, none of this should have happened.

  Maybe it was the “letting yourself be vulnerable” point that tripped her up. She’d always believed in being brave and open, but Grady hadn’t, and look what it had gotten him when he’d tried it.

  “Cassie.”

  She was surprised to hear his voice and leaned over the railing, looking for him. When he said her name again, she realized it came from the top of the stairs.

  “Please don’t use the electricity while you’re getting ready,” he said. “Considering the hanging chandelier ripped off and fell down, and that there’s water everywhere, it’ll be safer to use the battery-powered lantern under the bedside table.”

  “Okay,” she said. She tried to gauge what he was thinking and couldn’t. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t really anything. He looked gorgeous in his dishevelment from all their hard work today, but the man who’d been so kind and considerate of her since she’d fainted in his arms less than two weeks ago didn’t seem to be there.

  Then he held something out to her. “Do you want this for tonight? I know it isn’t at all wedding-appropriate, but I thought you’d like it better than the green rain jacket.”

  His bomber jacket hung from his hand. The sight of it warmed her instantly. He was in there, somewhere under the residual anger and the disappointment at seeing his long-held but recently doubted beliefs proved true, after all.

  She wanted to run into his arms and tell him again how sorry she was, that he’d been right to care for her, to let her into his life and dive into hers, but that was hard to prove at this point.

  She moved toward him with care, afraid of alarming him, like approaching one of the elk that had watched their wedding preparations. She took the jacket from him and held it against her. “Thank you. I’ll take good care of it.”

  “I’m sure you will,” he said. “Just keep it until you go home.”

  This was home. She would be going away. “Thanks.”

  “Sure. Anything you need?”

  You. “I think I’m good.”

  “All right.” He turned and picked his way carefully down the stairs, leaped over the puddles and disappeared down the corridor to his room.

  She held the jacket to her chest and bent her head over it. The smell of his spicy aftershave clung to it. There was hope, she thought. It was fragile, but it was there.

  * * *

  BEN AND CORIE’S wedding was unlike anything Grady had ever seen. The bride and groom exuded such love when they looked into each other’s eyes that he guessed they could have been in a desert, or in shirtsleeves at the North Pole and they wouldn’t have noticed. Or, they’d have noticed but they wouldn’t have cared. After a colossal struggle with life, they were finally able to declare their love and promise each other that it would last forever.

  There were six or seven rows of guests on both sides of the aisle. They were bundled against the clear, cold night, anticipatory smiles in place as the Wild Men sang “All You Need is Love.” The air was redolent of the surrounding fir trees, the winter smell of wood smoke and the collected perfumes the wind had brought across the ocean.

  Sarah came down the aisle with her warm smile and what was probably a beautiful dress covered to her hips by a gray jacket. With a pink-and-blue bouquet, she somehow looked just right.

  Grady felt a punch to his heart when Cassie followed Sarah, her hair piled at the back of her head, curls falling everywhere, a pink daisy caught in them. She was heartbreakingly beautiful without much effort, with a softness about her that was almost painful. His leather jacket enhanced rather than detracted from the figure she cut walking between the ethereal chandeliers. Below the jacket, some fluffy, fussy skirt skimmed her knees, and he took in her long, gorgeous legs.

  Rosie followed in a wildly bright coat, clearly feeling beautiful. She held a small wicker basket and scattered rose petals on the grass, her beautiful black hair catching the light from the chandeliers.

  Soren walked beside her, uncharacteristically serious in his suit with the hated tie. His hair was slicked back but the ever-present twinkle was in his eye as he carefully balanced the ring pillow.

  Corie was gorgeous. He smiled to himself as he thought the word he’d heard Cassie use so much. He’d heard the women talk about how she’d made her own dress that looked like something a lady in the Middle Ages would have worn. She wore a soft blue jacket over it that Grandma Eleanor had lent her.

  Gary Palmer walked her down the aisle, looking proud and solemn.

  Ben, waiting for her, smiled with a tenderness Grady hadn’t seen in him before. He knew his friend to be a kind, compassionate man, but it seemed this woman had reached deeper inside him than anything or anyone ever had.

  When the wedding party turned to face the priest, there was a communal gasp as everyone noticed the elk at the edge of the property, their attention turned toward the wedding guests. There was a majestic male, several females and six or seven young ones. They were a magnificent addition to a magical day.

  Cassie glanced in Grady’s direction with a wide smile, clearly happy that they’d come. He had to smile back, happy, too.

  The ceremony was brief but poignant. When Ben and Corie were pronounced husband and wife, Ben kissed her then crushed her to him as though nothing could ever separate them.

  Loud applause and cheers erupted, and the exit music was “Time of My Life” at full volume. The guests sang along. Rosie and Soren met to walk up the aisle, a more familiar elbowing and shoving going on between them. Sarah took Grady’s arm, her cheeks wet with tears, and Jack and Cassie followed behind them.

  Oliver and Donald carried chairs from the wedding area to the tables with the help of other guests. Diane, Helen and Eleanor were already carrying dishes to a buffet table set up under one of the spotlights, fortunately part of a different electrical system than the house.

  He was surprised when Sarah stopped him and gave him a hug. “I have to get in there and help,” she said, smiling up at him. “Thank you for doing this for them even after what happened today. I think for most of us, this will go down as one of the most memorable weddings we’ve ever attended. As far as the family is concerned, you and Cassie are quite the heroes.”

  She placed her hands on his arms. “You do understand that it was all just a terrible accident? Not that you don’t have a right to be completely upset, but...Cassie wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’ve only known her for ten days and I’m as sure of that as I am that Jack is the other half
of my soul.”

  “That’s quite a claim.” He tried to lighten the moment, unable to explain to her that he was confounded by his own feelings. What he felt wasn’t anger at Cassie but anger at himself for ever thinking that their lives could work together. She’d always want extravagant, glamorous and fussy things that would burn down his life and everything that had gotten him this far.

  She put a hand to her heart. “My faith in her, like my love for Jack, is a core belief.”

  The bride and groom had been drawn aside and surrounded by their guests. Jack and Cassie were right behind Grady, and Jack took Sarah away from him. “Mine, Grady,” he said with a grin. “You’ve got your own woman.” He hugged Cassie then walked away with Sarah.

  Grady and Cassie stood between the last pair of chandeliers. Cassie smiled up at him, tipping her head toward her departing brother. “Sorry about that. He thinks we still...you know...have something going.”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll always care about you.”

  * * *

  EVERY FRAGILE HOPE Cassie’d had that she could somehow turn this relationship around disintegrated. When he’d smiled back at her at the sight of the elk, she’d hoped. Now bitterly disappointed, she couldn’t help the impatient roll of her eyes as she started to walk away. “Never mind.” She tossed the words at him over her shoulder.

  He caught her arm and drew her back, obviously annoyed. “Never mind?” he repeated. They locked gazes, the crystals in the chandeliers moving in the night breeze.

  “Never. Mind.” She repeated the words slowly, deliberately. “That is the most lifeless, insipid expression of feeling I’ve ever heard. If that’s all you have to offer, I don’t want it.” She tried to leave again, but he held fast.

  “Hey!” he whispered, glancing around, making sure no one was listening. “You burned down my home!”

  “I did not!” she whispered back at him. “I accidentally caused the fire. And I’m sorry. Actually, I didn’t even burn it all down. I made a horrible mess of the great room, true, but a cleaning company is coming tomorrow, and I’ve hired a contractor Jack recommended to give you an estimate on repairs. I’ll take care of everything.”

  She jabbed a finger at his chest. “And be honest with yourself for once, Grady. You’re not mad that there was a fire, you’re mad because you fell in love with me even though it scares you to death, and this accident was a perfect excuse to say, ‘Aha!’” She took on a villainous voice. “‘You led me astray from my staid and safe little life and now look what you’ve done. You’ve made me care, and I’m not comfortable with that because you messed everything up and now I have to forgive you and love you, anyway, and that’s too hard. You cost me my comfort and that’s what’s most important to me because when my father died I had to give up everything to help my mother.’”

  He looked murderous. She could only conclude that she was right on.

  “You’re very lucky there are so many witnesses,” he said darkly, dropping her wrist.

  “Really?” Her voice dripped with irreverence. She put a thumb to the side of her nose and took a fighter’s stance. “Want to go a few rounds? Come on, let’s see what you’ve got. There’s a pirate ship in your bathroom, for heaven’s sake! Where’s your knife-in-your-teeth fearlessness? Let’s duke out the safe-and-sober versus risky-and-alive life question.”

  Her father and Diane appeared, looking vaguely concerned. Diane wore an apron over her coat, and her arm was tucked in Donald’s.

  “Everything okay here?” her father asked, looking from one to the other in concern. “You’re not really going to start boxing, are you?”

  Cassie relaxed from her fighter’s stance and patted his chest. “I would, but Grady’s too much of a gentleman to get down and dirty or display any passion. Excuse me. I’ve got to go help in the kitchen.”

  * * *

  THE RECEPTION LASTED for hours. No one seemed to notice when the temperature dropped and they finally ran out of food. Laughter filled the fragrant night air and the Wild Men launched into a set of romantic numbers. Couples danced, leaning on each other, the new year beginning with looks into each other’s eyes and firm embraces.

  Everyone gathered to throw birdseed as Ben and Corie left. Soren and Rosie stayed behind—Jack and Sarah would watch them for the night.

  The women headed back to the kitchen. When the Wild Men played the first few familiar bars of “You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You,” Cassie shooed everyone back to the dancing, then hid out in the kitchen, cleaning and crying like a crazy woman.

  By the time the kitchen sparkled, the music had stopped and she went out to clear tables. She thanked the musicians and then said good-night to the last of the guests.

  She had a centerpiece in each arm, ready to carry them into the house, when Diane approached her. She’d removed the apron and had her purse over her shoulder. “Do you want to come with me, Cassie?” she asked. “Grady insists he’s staying here, but I don’t think you’d be very comfortable. Couldn’t you use a nice hot bath and a cup of tea?”

  That sounded divine. “I would love that. You’re sure I’m not putting you out?”

  “Absolutely. You get your things and I’ll go say good-night to your father. He’s ready to leave with Jack and Sarah and the kids.”

  Cassie stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You like him, don’t you?”

  A youthful smile grew on Diane’s mouth. “I do. He’s a very interesting man, and he’s so proud of you. Not because you’re a celebrity, but because you’re such a special young woman.”

  “That’s nice of you to say. He seems to like you, too.”

  Diane giggled, looking thrilled. “I know. Isn’t that wonderful? He’s invited me to come look at a property he’s considering buying on the outskirts of town. He said he’d planned to sell his business and retire, anyway, and now he really likes it here and since you’ll be coming back...” She spread her hands as though the rest was obvious.

  Cassie hugged her. “I’m so happy, Diane.” She pushed her gently to where her father waited. “Go say good-night and I’ll run upstairs. I promise I won’t be long.”

  Cassie dashed up to the loft and her still-damp room. She packed up her things, putting all the extra clothing she’d bought since she’d arrived into the plastic sleeve from Bay Boutique. She resisted the impulse to dawdle over memories of her first shopping trip there, of the night she’d worn her little black dress and she and Grady had danced to Sinatra, and the feeling of his arms around her when she rode the elevator without screaming. Tears fell, but she wiped them away and dug into the closet for her boots.

  She spotted the raincoat and realized it was a metaphor for what she was left with. She pulled off the leather jacket she liked so much and placed it on the foot of the bed, then shrugged into the raincoat.

  With a sudden lack of energy, she sat beside the jacket and looked around at the warm, familiar room. Though she’d been here only a few days, it felt as though she’d been here much longer, as though she was a different woman from the one who’d run away from the paparazzi with Grady. She’d give anything to be able to stay, despite the broken windows and the lack of electricity. But while the house was sound enough, her emotions were not and she would either smack Grady over his attitude or burst into tears in front of him. Neither response would be productive.

  With a small groan, she stood and hurried downstairs with all her possessions. She stopped short at the sight of Grady at the door.

  “I’ll walk you to Mom’s car,” he said, taking her things from her without bothering to ask. She opened her mouth to insist that she could carry them, but he said simply, “Don’t.”

  “Why are you mad at me?” she demanded a little testily. She was now officially exhausted and without her customary good humor.

  He gave her a look over his shou
lder that told her that was a silly question. She had to grant him that. “Okay. Apart from the fact that I’m responsible for the house fire. I’m leaving so that you don’t have to look at me anymore tonight. And I’ll be back in the morning to talk to the cleaners and the contractor to get your life repaired.”

  His mother stood by the open trunk of her car and watched as he put Cassie’s bags inside. “It’s my house,” he said. “I’ll do that.”

  “I’ve already taken care of it. And I’m going to pay for the repairs.”

  “I have insurance.”

  “There’ll be things insurance won’t cover.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. “Broken heart. Broken dreams.”

  She gasped, staring at him openmouthed at that admission. He was going to kiss her. No, he was too angry. Her insides somersaulted in confusion.

  He released her to close the trunk and open the passenger’s-side door. “Get in. Please.”

  She complied and swung her legs in, shaken by what he’d said and trying not to betray it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  GRADY WALKED INTO his trashed and empty house. He retrieved the Coleman lantern from the guest closet and went into the kitchen in search of leftover champagne. There was half a bottle in the fridge, the contents still cold thanks to Gary’s generator. He poured a juice glass full and went back to sit on the unburned half of the sofa.

  The smell of smoke was less pervasive now that the broken windows had been allowing air in all day. Tonight he smelled the woods behind his house, the leftover fragrance of the perfume and aftershave of his guests, the ten small bouquets one of the women had artfully lined up on the stairs.

  At the wall at a right angle to the stairs, Jack and Oliver had placed the six standing chandeliers in a row. Damned things. They personified for him the extravagance of Cassie’s approach to life.