A Cottage Wedding

by Leigh Duncan

  “I love it,” she said, thinking of all her favorite places. “Taking the Staten Island Ferry past the Statue of Liberty. Stopping for dim sum in Chinatown. Walking through Rockefeller Center. Times Square—though it should be old hat by now, I still get a thrill every time I see myself on the big monitors.” She could stand in front of the cameras for fifteen minutes at a time while she waved to the crowds with one hand and kept a firm grip on her purse strap with the other.

  “I sense a but in there somewhere.”

  How did he know what she was thinking before she did? Yes, there was a “but,” as in, but with all the hours she was putting in at work these days, she didn’t get to enjoy much of living in the city. Could she admit that to Jason? Something in the tilt of his head, the interest that flickered in his gray eyes urged her to confide in him.

  “It’s, um, more—much more—than I anticipated. More crowded. More hectic. More expensive. Especially that. I’m still living in the fifth-floor walk-up I moved into when I first arrived. My whole apartment could fit inside my parents’ bedroom closet. There’s no air conditioning, and the heat is a joke. Before I moved to New York, I’d built up a nice nest egg. I’ve had to dip into it just to make ends meet. I’m not sure how much longer I can live there if I don’t get this promotion I’m up for.”

  “Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you get it. You love what you do, don’t you?”

  That part she didn’t have to hide. “From the first time I saw a copy of Weddings Today, I’ve dreamed of covering celebrity weddings and helping brides make the right choices. It’s just that, well, there have been too many days when going on a coffee run for the senior editors was the most important contribution I made to the magazine.” She clamped her mouth shut. She absolutely would not tell him she’d been doing exactly that as recently as last week.

  “It’s tough starting out. Especially in a creative field. It’ll be worth the sacrifices you’re making now, though, when you get that big promotion.”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d make it until Regina gave me this assignment. This could change everything for me.” And Heart’s Landing.

  “Everyone here is going to help you with that,” Jason said. “Ever since my great-grandmother glided down the circular staircase of the Captain’s Cottage to marry into the Rockefeller clan in a wedding that turned the socialites of the day misty-eyed, our town has been a premier wedding destination. Today, we’re doing everything we can to maintain that position. You’re not going to find one thing to mark us down on, and when you turn in your report at the end of your stay, your bosses will agree that you’ve done a great job.”

  If he only knew. The problem with his plan was that in order to please her boss, she’d have to dig up some dirt on Heart’s Landing or destroy the myth the town was built on. Both were tasks she looked forward to less and less with each step she took on the tree-lined sidewalk. If her career was the only thing at stake, she might have a different perspective. But having her own byline would go a long way toward making her parents see that she’d chosen the right career, and that made whatever she had to do worthwhile. She simply couldn’t let herself get attached to the town.

  Or Jason. Especially not him. Firming her shoulders, along with her resolve, she was determined to reach her goal.

  Soon, Jason’s footsteps slowed to a stop beside another intriguing window display. On the other side of the glass, a lacy blue garter dangled from a mannequin’s hand over an intricately carved wooden box. Wedding invitations, reply cards, church programs, and a bouquet of dried flowers spilled from the box to puddle in artful disarray on a low table.

  “Helen’s store specializes in storage boxes for wedding memorabilia,” Jason explained, “though I suppose you could use them for other purposes, too. Want to take a look inside?”

  “I’ve always loved pretty containers,” she answered with a sigh. She’d begun collecting any that caught her eye when she was still in grade school. Her favorites were stacked in the closet of her old bedroom in her parents’ house.

  “Then you’re sure to like these. They’re one-of-a-kind creations.” Ever the gentleman, Jason held the door for her.

  Where bakery products had crowded the shelves of Nick’s display case and flowers had been everywhere she looked at Forget Me Knot, here only a handful of boxes had been artfully arranged on display stands. Recessed spotlights highlighted intricate carvings that covered the sides and lids. On one, a bride and groom toasted each other with champagne flutes. Another featured a horse-drawn carriage.

  Jason’s long strides led the way to the counter where a young woman stood. He made the standard introductions, and Tara shook hands with Helen Berger, the co-owner of The Memory Box.

  “I must say, I’ve never seen anything quite like these.” Tara ran one finger along the edge of a box lined with velvet. The workmanship was every bit as good as some of the pieces she’d seen on display in New York art studios. “These are exquisite. I want to buy one, and I’m not even getting married.”

  “B-brides do buy m-most of our boxes,” Helen admitted with a charming stutter. “We have a wide variety of patterns you can choose from, or we’ll help you design something perfect, j-just for you.” She walked over to one that featured a chubby-cheeked baby. “S-see?”

  Tara’s midsection tightened. For an instant, she pictured herself cuddling a baby with Jason’s gray eyes and dark hair. She blinked the image away. All that talk of weddings back at I Do Cakes had addled her mind. Much as she wanted a family of her own, she hadn’t even started looking for her Mr. Right. Whoever he turned out to be, it wouldn’t be Jason. Her current assignment would see to that.

  She wrenched her gaze away from the carving. She needed to focus on the task at hand if she had any hope of getting ahead at Weddings Today. “Where do you get all these?” she asked, hoping Helen would admit she stocked cheap imports.

  “My brother starts with oak or black walnut and hand-carves each exterior panel. Once he’s satisfied, he and my dad stain the pieces and treat them to several layers of protective polyurethane. After that, they assemble the units. Mom adds the lining. She also handles our website.”

  “A family business.” She could relate to that. Her sisters were very much involved in her dad’s restaurant. “And you run this wonderful shop.” Tara gestured to the attractive displays, the muted wall colors.

  “Yes.” Helen smiled. While they chatted, her slight stutter had eased until it was barely noticeable.

  “How’s business?” She glanced around at the empty shop. No brides or grooms browsed the aisles. Why was that?

  “Excellent. For custom designs, we have a three-month waiting list. While most of our orders come through our website, we get a fair amount of walk-in customers. The weekends are usually pretty busy.”

  Tara’s fingers itched to trace the carved drawings. To keep them busy, she flipped open her notebook. While Jason stood in the corner quietly talking on his cell phone, she asked the first question on her list. “What do you do when someone isn’t happy with their purchase?”

  Helen bit her lip. “We take precautions to make sure that doesn’t happen. Every customer approves a series of drawings before Brett, my brother, carves the first notch. He sends them photographs of the work in progress. It’s rare for someone to be unhappy with the final product, b-but, I won’t lie to you—it d-does happen. On those occasions, we give them their choice of a full refund or having us start from scratch with a new design.”

  Tara had never heard of such a generous return policy for a custom item. With a sigh, she closed her notebook and slipped it into her purse. She wouldn’t waste any more time looking for problems in The Memory Box. The store, like everything else she’d seen in Heart’s Landing, was utterly delightful.

  She smothered a groan. It was beginning to look like her only hope of getting a promotion lay in uncovering some terrible tru
th about Captain Thaddeus.

  Chapter Seven

  Stepping from the shop into the bright, midday sun, Jason dropped his sunglasses into place. “The mayor sends his apologies. When I spoke with him on the phone this morning, he sounded a little stuffy. He said his allergies were kicking up. It sounds a little more serious than that. He has a fever.” He studied Tara to gauge her reaction.

  “It’s just you and me for lunch, then?” She stared up at him, her shoulders softening while the faintest trace of a smile played across her lips.

  When Tara wasn’t disappointed or angry at the change of plans, he took it as a good sign. “If that’s all right with you,” he said, breathing easier.

  “Actually…” Her footsteps slowed.

  “Yes?” He braced himself for bad news.

  “After gorging myself on that wonderful cake, I don’t think I could eat another bite. I’d just as soon skip lunch and return to the Captain’s Cottage.”

  “That’s fine with me.” Though the owner of the White Dove Deli would be disappointed, he’d make sure Tara had another chance to visit the sidewalk cafe.

  As they retraced their steps to the car, Tara stopped several times to take pictures. The little breaks gave him a chance to think about how things had gone so far, and he was surprised that he hadn’t minded showing her around as much as he’d thought he would. She wasn’t the jaded New Yorker he’d been told to expect. Instead, she came across as a down-home girl trying to make it in the big city. Bright and witty, she was probably good at her job. She had to be, or she’d never have landed this assignment. He wished her luck. He wanted her to succeed at it as much as she did. Maybe more.

  Yet he couldn’t help the feeling that something about Tara’s overall reaction this morning had been a little off. There’d been a few times when it had seemed as though proving that Heart’s Landing deserved its stellar reputation was the last thing she wanted. Which was ridiculous, right? If Tara had come to Rhode Island intent on making sure the town lost its number one rating to another competitor, wouldn’t she constantly complain, build a huge mountain out of every tiny molehill? That was what he’d do. And he wasn’t alone.

  When he’d managed one of the smaller convention centers in Boston, he’d sometimes dealt with performers who were less than impressed with the venue. There’d been eye rolls—lots of them. Bored sighs. An occasional yawn or two. The kind of reaction he’d expected from Tara if she intended to grade them harshly. But on the whole, her responses had been enthusiastic. That, as much as anything, had convinced him she was exactly what she claimed to be—their best chance at retaining the title of America’s Top Wedding Destination.

  “So, what’ll you do this afternoon?” he asked when they’d reached the car. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No, thanks. I need to type up my notes from this morning. I want to do that while it’s all fresh in my mind. Then, I might read in the library some more, as long as I won’t be in anyone’s way. I want to dig into Captain Thaddeus’s logs and journals.” She brushed a hand through her hair.

  “I have to say, that’s not something I hear very often.” By the late 1800s, travel between America and Europe had become almost routine. The logs were filled with pages and pages of mundane reports and chart headings.

  “Okay, I’ll admit it.” Her blue eyes crinkled as her lips curved into a teasing grin. “I don’t study every entry. In the journal I read last night, the Mary S was at sea for thirty days straight. Nothing much happened until the ship ran into a storm on the tenth day out. From what I could gather, things got a bit rough, but the crew handled themselves well. On the fifteenth day, they ran across a pod of blue whales. The captain filled four pages describing the encounter. That was fascinating. Another storm struck just before they reached land. The rest, I might have skimmed.”

  “Some of that might be worth a second look,” Jason advised. “A daily accounting of rations might seem a bit repetitive, but knowing how many pints of rum were distributed at evensong lets you know how many sick they had on board. They didn’t have penicillin in those days. If a ship with a sick crew tried to make port, they’d be forced to ride at anchor until everyone on board recovered.”

  “Thanks.” A bright understanding lit Tara’s eyes. “That gives me more insight.”

  On the short drive back to the Cottage, they talked more about Captain Thaddeus and his crew. All too soon, though, Jason pulled to the curb in front of the mansion. Watching Tara head up the steps and through the front entrance, he felt the strangest stirring in his chest.

  Was he attracted to Tara Stewart?

  He brushed the idea away like one of pesky black flies that regularly made nuisances of themselves in the spring. Tara might be smart and witty, she might share his interest in history, but getting involved with the person who held the fate of Heart’s Landing in her hands was a very bad idea. Besides, in a few days, she’d return to New York. Forming anything more than a casual friendship with someone who lived two hundred miles away was the last thing he wanted. He’d already done that with Clarissa and had the hole in his heart to prove that long-distance relationships didn’t work out. He shook his head. He’d talk to the review committee before tonight’s cocktail party. He’d done his part by filling in for Greg today. It was time for someone else to take over.

  That evening, while the waitstaff bustled about putting the finishing touches for the cocktail party on table settings, he joined the other committee members in a niche outside the Green Room.

  “Well, Jason, how’d the first day with Ms. Stewart go?” Mildred had stepped into her role of Deputy Mayor after they received word that Greg wouldn’t be able to attend the evening’s festivities.

  Jason squared his shoulders. He couldn’t lie to his friends. The stakes were too important. “So far, things haven’t gone according to plan at all.”

  Mildred and Helen drew in shocked gasps. When she recovered, the florist asked, “What do you mean? She hasn’t found anything to complain about, has she?”

  “No, but think about it.” Jason ticked items off on his fingers. “We were prepared for Regina Charm’s arrival, which was supposed to happen this afternoon. Instead, Tara showed up. Unannounced and a day early. Our plans for this morning suffered another jolt when Greg couldn’t get away from Tux and Tails.”

  “B-but we’ve adjusted,” Helen pointed out. “We d-didn’t abandon her to roam around town on her own. She’s b-been happy with what she’s seen so far?”

  “The morning did go smoothly,” he allowed. Better than he’d hoped. “But Greg was supposed to be her escort for her entire stay. Now, he’s sick with a cold, and from what his wife says, it’s a doozy. He’s probably out of commission for a week or more.”

  “That doesn’t leave us much choice.” Mildred propped her fists on her ample hips. “You’ll have to take his place.”

  “Me?” Jason scanned the group, hoping everyone else considered the idea as ridiculous as he did. But not a single eyebrow twitched. Not one of the other three on the committee moved a muscle.

  “Yes, you.” A keen intelligence lay beneath Mildred’s sweet, grandmotherly presence. She pinned him with a steely glint. “You two looked like you were getting along just fine when you were in the shop this morning.”

  That much was true. He had to admit, Tara’s reaction when they’d arrived at Forget Me Knot had warmed his heart. One glimpse of the display window, and her doubtful attitude had given way to an infectious enthusiasm. Her love of hyacinths especially had been so endearing that he’d had Mildred send a bouquet of the purple blossoms to her room.

  Nick canted his head. “She didn’t object to picking out a cake for a pretend wedding. In fact, I think she actually enjoyed herself.”

  Jason was pretty sure she had, too. He’d noted the slight stiffening of her posture when Nick had shown them into the alcove. Whatever misgivin
gs Tara had harbored, though, they’d melted the moment she’d sampled the first cake. By the time they’d finished with the last one, the three of them had been chatting like old friends.

  “Sh-she had nice things to say about The Memory Box.”

  “We got lucky there,” he said, giving Helen a warm smile. “She has a thing for storage containers—who knew?” Despite Evelyn’s best efforts, she’d been unable to dig up much information about Tara. “She really appreciated that yours is a family business. Her mom and dad own a restaurant in Georgia. Her sisters work there, too.”

  “Have you spoken to her this afternoon?” Nick leaned forward. “What’s she been up to since you got back to the Cottage?”

  His own work had kept him busy for several hours, but he’d kept tabs on Tara’s comings and goings. “On the way back here, she said she wanted to write up her notes. After an hour or so, she came downstairs and went to the library. She stayed in there until it was time to get ready for the party.”

  “The library?” Mildred’s brows rose at a sharp angle. “That’s an odd choice.”

  Careful not to leave a mark, Jason scuffed one toe along the hardwood floor. “Before she arrived, we received a request from Weddings Today to make all of Captain Thaddeus’s journals and logs available. She and I have talked about him a little bit. I think she’s a history buff.”

  “Well, that’s right up your alley.” Relief softened Nick’s features. “Gives you something else to discuss while you show her around town.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Mildred had her own list of reasons why Jason should fill in for Greg. She toted them out. “You were on hand to greet her when she arrived. You gave her the grand tour of the Captain’s Cottage yesterday. Your first outing this morning went well. You both share a love of history. There’s no one better suited to point out the historical aspects of Heart’s Landing while she visits all the spots she wants to see while she’s here. For someone else to take over doesn’t make sense. You’re the perfect choice.”