by Meg Muldoon
I guessed, when you considered all the facts, this entire situation had been my fault to begin with.
I should have been the one in charge of the bouquets in the first place. Not Beth Lynn’s mom, who while well-meaning, was unreliable and crazier than her daughter. Which was saying something, considering that Beth Lynn wasn’t exactly a candidate for most sane resident of Broken Hearts herself.
I should have been the one to take on the responsibility of the bouquets. I was, after all, the maid of honor.
Now here I was, kneeling in the snow, shivering and quickly circling frostbite territory.
A strong gust of wind rustled through the snow-covered pines around me. A moment later, that very gust was trying to work its way up under my dress.
I yelped and then reached back, catching the cheap pink fabric before the wind exposed everything to the world.
Damn Beth Lynn and her cheap 80s fashion sense.
“Son of a—”
I stopped cussing as I suddenly heard a familiar chuckle tinged with just a hint of maliciousness above me.
“This is just the kind of thing I’d expect to happen to you, Loretta Loveless.”
Chapter 4
“Dammit, Raymond,” I said, standing up and attempting to shake off the snowflakes that had gathered on every square inch of me. “I’m not in the mood to be mocked by you.”
Officer Raymond Rollins stood there, his hands in the pockets of his warm police jacket, staring at me with a smug, amused look on his face. His police car sat parked behind my truck.
“Well, it’s hard not to laugh when I find you half-naked in a snow storm,” he said. “Nice, uh, nice dress there by the way. Made me think I was in a Twilight Zone episode for a sec, and that the snowstorm had transported me clear back to 1983.”
He smirked.
I shot him a fiery glare.
“Look, I don’t have time for your schoolboy humor,” I said. “I’ve got a wedding that’s waiting on me.”
That smug look on his face lessened a little, and I could tell what he was thinking.
Raymond was a lot of things, but smart he wasn’t if he thought I would be wearing a PeptoBismol-colored dress to my own wedding.
“Not for me, you fool,” I said. “For Beth Lynn.”
He nodded, like he’d known that all along.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some more digging to do.”
I picked up the two-by-four and turned by back to him, kneeling on the ground.
A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t be a damn fool, Loretta,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have wanted any kind of favor from Officer Raymond Rollins.
But as it was, I wasn’t in much of a position to be choosy about where this particular favor came from.
I looked back at him.
He was actually smiling sincerely. Or as sincerely as Raymond was capable of being, anyway.
I nodded, then stood up. I opened the back door of my truck and pulled out the tub of bouquets. Then I hurriedly walked toward his police cruiser.
“I guess this makes me your knight in shining armor,” he said, unlocking my door.
“No,” I said. “But it does make you one mighty nice police officer.”
Chapter 5
I rushed into the chapel, my hands and feet more numb than if Beth Lynn had injected them with some of that Botox of hers.
Water was dripping from my soaking blond hair. Most of my makeup had washed off. And I was pretty sure that one of my fake eyelashes had fallen out somewhere back in the snow drift.
But none of that seemed to matter, because the important thing was that the bouquets had arrived, and that the wedding could finally start.
Beth Lynn stood up from the chez lounge when she saw me, the look of utter desperation in her eyes changing to exaltation when she saw the tub in my arms.
“Bitters, I was getting worried sick that something had happened!” she said. “But you made it! You made i—”
She stopped mid-sentence as she peered into my face.
“Good heavens, Bitters. You look terrible.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’m here. The bouquets are here. Let’s get this wedding on the road.”
“But Bitters, you can’t walk down the aisle like this,” she said. “You look like Frosty the Snowman after a heatwave. Let’s just take a few minutes to get you cleaned up and—”
“No, I’m fine.”
“But…”
I pulled out the bobby pins from my hair, and then dug out a hair tie from my jacket pocket. I threw my long blond hair into a makeshift ponytail, then wiped away the mascara streaks from beneath my eyes.
“You know me,” I said, taking my jacket off and straightening out my wrinkled dress. “I’ve never been the fancy type anyway.”
She looked at me, raising an eyebrow.
“Your soulmate’s waiting out there, Beth Lynn,” I said, handing her the bouquet and placing my hands on her shoulders. “Let’s not make him wait any longer.”
She bit her lip, looking down at the bouquet, then nodded.
“Bitters, I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Robbie,” she said. “If it wasn’t for you, then I don’t know—”
“Save it for the reception,” I said. “You’ve got better things to do now.”
She smiled, a couple of heartfelt tears welling up in her eyes.
“You ready, darling?” her mom said.
Beth Lynn kept looking at me and took in a deep breath.
“I’ve never been more ready in my entire life.”
Chapter 6
“Those are some nerves of steel you’ve got, young lady, walking down the aisle the way you did after saving the day.”
Pastor Cash Phillips leaned in toward me, shouting over the music playing loudly over The Stupid Cupid Saloon’s speaker system. Out on the saloon’s dance floor, Beth Lynn, Robert, and some of his friends were cutting a rug to the “Cupid Shuffle.”
Once I’d shown up with the bouquets, the wedding had gone off without a hitch. Well, just about without a hitch. Robert’s brother had to walk a very disheveled, crazy-looking maid of honor down the aisle. One whose bridesmaid dress was just about soaked through, and who was redder than a tomato on account of digging around in the snow.
Still, I didn’t much mind being ogled at by the rest of the wedding party as I walked down that aisle.
It was a small price to pay to see my best friend finally get hitched to Mr. Right.
I smiled at Pastor Phillips. A pudgy man with dimples and a booming voice, the pastor had handled the late start of the Reese wedding with ease, telling jokes to the waiting crowd the way I heard it.
“Maybe about as brave as a pastor having a double bourbon in a bar full of his congregation,” I said, nodding at the Johnny Walker Red I’d just poured him. I hadn’t planned to help with bartending duties this evening, but with just Maggie and Amy tending bar, the drink orders had gotten more backed up than a gutter in the fall.
The pastor grinned, taking a sip of his drink.
“Or as brave as a 90-year-old doing the Cupid Shuffle over there,” he said, nodding toward the dance floor.
I followed the pastor’s gaze, and beneath the strobe lights, I could make out a certain old man who had up and sprung from his wheelchair, and was now shaking his old hips out on the floor with a young, pretty cousin of Robert’s.
I shook my head.
I didn’t know what else I should have expected from Lawrence “Law Dog” Halliday.
“Maybe so,” I said. “But your information’s wrong, Pastor. I’ll have you know that Lawrence is only 86 years old. Not 90.”
The pastor held his hands up in a defensive motion.
“Aw, well, excuse me, Bitters,” he said. “I didn’t mean to insult the old man.”
I smiled.
“But in all seriousne
ss, you saved the day today, girl,” the pastor said. “Ol’ Robbie wasn’t going to last much longer up there. I could tell he was starting to have some doubts.”
“Well, you weren’t too bad yourself up there,” I said.
“Aw, it’s easy marrying a couple when they’re so in love.”
I followed his gaze toward Robert and Beth Lynn, who were still doing that silly dance. They were both smiling, looking into each other’s eyes. Almost floating on air, the way a couple should look at their reception.
To some people, Beth Lynn Baker and Robert Reese might have looked like a strange couple. She was tall, blonde, and had ex-rodeo queen written all over her plump lips and ample curves. Meanwhile Robert had black, frizzy hair, wore thick glasses, and was stouter than a Guinness draft.
But the truth was, when it came to true love, looks didn’t matter a damn.
When I had first told Beth Lynn a year ago that I’d gotten a vision of her soulmate, and that he looked like a stocky lawyer type, she had been none-too-pleased. In fact, she had ignored my advice for quite some time, running around with all the wrong men in her denial. Finally, though, after one too many Mr. Wrongs, she gave in and asked me to help her. Beth Lynn and Robert hadn’t hit it off right away, but the way they were looking into each other’s eyes just now, you wouldn’t have known.
They were truly, profoundly, deeply, in love.
But despite the wedding being over, and despite my matchmaking project coming to a happy conclusion, I couldn’t relax just yet.
I pulled my phone from my purse, which I’d placed behind the bar, and checked it again.
My stomach tightened.
Still no word.
I was really beginning to worry now. The storms that could hit the passes were nothing to joke around with. And given the half foot of snow that had descended on Broken Hearts today, I was sure that conditions were looking downright ugly on them mountain passes.
I called, holding the phone up to my ear.
It went straight to voicemail.
I suddenly had the feeling that this had been a bad idea.
While it had seemed like a nice and touching notion just a few months ago, it was now clear that it was plain foolish to drive all the way over them passes in the winter just to—
“What do you say to a dance with your knight in shining armor, Loretta?” a voice said.
I looked up to find Officer Raymond Rollins, no longer in uniform, standing there.
After practically saving her wedding, Beth Lynn had invited Raymond to the reception. Which I supposed was fair, though I had been trying to avoid him thus far.
Tall and barrel-chested, Raymond was no longer wearing that police cap, and I noticed that he’d let his hair grow out a little since the last time I saw him. He was wearing a collared shirt that was a size too small for him and purposefully showed off his thick muscles.
I realized that it had been a long time since I got a real look at him.
The months when we had dated seemed like ages and ages ago. Hell, the months after when he’d been hounding me to get back together also felt like ages ago.
I sized him up and thought about it for a spell.
“C’mon. For old time’s sake,” he said, holding a hand out to me. “Plus, I did kind of save your ass earlier. In more ways than one.”
He smirked, the same way he had after the wind had tried to have its way with my dress.
I shook my head at him.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll dance with you, Raymond. But on one condition.”
“I’m listening,” he said.
“Stop calling yourself my knight in shining armor,” I said.
He shrugged those big shoulders of his, then he nodded. A moment later, he grabbed a hold of my hand and pulled me out on the floor.
Chapter 7
Raymond Rollins still wore that same old cologne that he always wore when we were dating.
It reminded me of a taxi cab air freshener, and I never much cared for it.
“So, how’s life, Loretta?” he asked, looking down at me. “It’s been a while.”
He was holding me a little too close for comfort as we danced to a slow number. I could feel Beth Lynn casting a look our way.
“Life’s coming along swimmingly, Raymond. How’s it been for you?”
“You know me,” he said. “Same ol’, same ol’. Pounding the pavement, looking for perps, fighting for the downtrodden.”
I scoffed.
Raymond wasn’t that kind of policeman, and we both knew it. Since last year’s flub of an investigation into the murder of Dale Dixon, The Stupid Cupid Saloon’s former bar owner, Raymond had been relegated to traffic ticket duty. He’d been lucky just to keep his job, rumor had it.
“You’ve got it all wrong, honey,” he said, sensing my disbelief. “I’m moving up in the world. Just you watch.”
“I’m watching,” I said, looking up at him.
I saw a spark of anger in his eyes, but it quickly died before it could catch.
That was the old Raymond I knew.
He forced his lips into a smile.
“Well, I can’t help but notice that you’re all by your lonesome here at your best friend’s wedding, Loretta,” he said, that smile turning smug. “Now why is that?”
“Actually, Raymond, I’m not.”
He glanced around.
“I don’t see nobody here with you.”
“My date’s sitting over there at the bar,” I said, nodding in the general direction. “Looking handsome as can be.”
Raymond’s eyes scanned the bar.
“Still don’t see anybody.”
“The one in the blue suit,” I said. “Having himself a Lemon Drop Martini.”
His eyes fixed on the man I was talking about.
Then he snickered.
“You mean old Law Dog?”
I smiled.
“Sure do,” I said. “Don’t you know women are attracted to men of worldly wisdom?”
Raymond just shook his head.
“I’m serious, though. Where’s your date?” he said. “Seems strange to me that he’s not here at your best friend’s wedding.”
“Well, it’s none of your business at the moment, Raymond,” I said.
He looked down at me, pulling me a little closer.
“Loretta, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he whispered in my ear. “Something… important.”
I did my best to keep from sighing.
Not this again.
I had thought in the year since Dale Dixon’s murder, Raymond had moved on. He had stopped driving by my house, and had stopped contact of all sort in fact. It had been a relief, knowing that he finally understood that we weren’t meant for each other.
“Raymond, if this is what I think it’s about then—”
“Now just hold on,” he said.
He stopped moving, looking down into my eyes.
“Just hold your horses before you judge anything. Because I don’t think you know what I’m going to sa…”
But just then, though, the front door to The Stupid Cupid Saloon swung open, sending a chilly blast of wintry wind through the barroom.
My heart leapt as I peered at the silhouette in the doorway.
I backed away from Raymond as the figure came into view.
Thank heavens, I thought, letting out a big sigh of relief.
Thank Velma the Ox, he was okay.
Chapter 8
I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a kiss that could have set the bar on fire.
His lips and face were freezing, but I didn’t much mind.
I knew I could warm him up right quick.
He pulled away from me after a moment, and smiled.
“Now, Loretta, you’re embarrassing me in front of everyone in this here bar,” he said.
But he didn’t much look embarrassed.
“Baby, I don’t care,” I said.
I kissed him again. He
held me for a moment, and I felt that electricity course between us.
Even after a year, it was still there. Running as strong as ever.
“Now, darling, you look like you were caught in the storm,” he said, peering at me. “Are you okay?”
I had changed out of the ugly pink bridesmaid dress into some regular clothes, glad to have had a reason for doing so. But my hair was still somewhat of a mess, despite my attempts to make it look better. Plus, I hadn’t had much time to clean up my make-up.
We made quite a pair, both of us looking not much better than a couple of drowned rats.
“It’s nothing this country girl couldn’t handle,” I said, smiling. “Did you get the goods?”
He nodded proudly.
“Sure did,” he said. “Now, what do you say you go distract Beth Lynn and Robert for a moment? Let me get things set up without them catching on.”
I nodded.
“I was getting worried about you,” I said. “I thought maybe...”
He shook his head.
“Just slow going, that’s all,” he said. “Bad timing with this storm. I wish I could have made it in time for the ceremony.”
He pulled me in for one last kiss before letting me go.
“I missed you something awful, my little Bluebird” he said.
My heart hammered hard in my chest.
He pulled away, and then walked back out the door into the storm.
I let out a happy sigh before going over to Beth Lynn and Robert.
How I loved that Fletcher Hart.
Chapter 9
“Bitters, I just don’t understand why we have to wait back here,” Beth Lynn said as we stood in the hallway that led to the Cupid’s back kitchen area. “I mean, I don’t even really understand why Fletcher just showed up now. I also don’t understand why you haven’t let me and Robbie have a first dance. I told you months ago that I already had the song picked out, remember? Until the Stars Burn Out by Clay Westwood. I love that song. But I just saw that DJ pack up his gear to leave, Bitters. I just don’t understand why—”
“Shh…” I finally said, placing a finger up to my mouth. “Just trust me, Beth Lynn, would ya?”