by Sarah Morgan
He shook his head slowly. ‘I think you’re lucky. People search their whole lives to find what you and Jack have. It isn’t easy meeting the right person in this world.’
Bryony thought about Helen. ‘It seems wrong to feel so happy when she’s unhappy. I feel guilty.’
‘We’re back to Helen again?’ Oliver frowned. ‘Come on, Bry, you’re a doctor. You know as well as anyone how hard life can be. When happiness comes your way you have to grab it and make the most of it. And I’m sure that’s what your friend wants for you.’
‘Yes, of course she does. But having to come to a wedding the way she feels right now … maybe I made the wrong call.’ Bryony removed a streamer from his shoulder. ‘I just thought it would do her good to get away.’
‘Get away from what?’ Oliver looked at her with exasperation. ‘It would be great if you could fill in the blanks here, Bry—especially if I’m supposed to be kind. If I don’t know what’s going on, how can you be sure I won’t say the wrong thing and make it worse?’
‘You never make things worse. And I can’t tell you. You’ll have to ask her yourself and—’ Bryony broke off as people started the countdown to midnight. ‘Just promise me you’ll keep an eye on her. It’s part of the responsibility of the best man.’
As the room erupted into cheers and howls Oliver strolled across the room to Tom.
‘Next time someone invites me to be best man, remind me to refuse. Added to the discomfort of wearing a suit, and the responsibility of remembering the ring and buying a gift for the bridesmaid, apparently I now have to keep an eye on someone called Helen—nature of wound unknown.’ He tapped his glass against Tom’s. ‘Happy New Year.’
Part Two
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHE sat on her own at the back of the tiny church, her body unnaturally still, as if the slightest movement might unleash an unstoppable tide of emotion. Her expression was haunted, her eyes fixed forward with the intense concentration of someone struggling for control.
She was beautiful, but it wasn’t her beauty that caught his attention.
It was her pallor.
Her cheeks were the colour of the snow that lay thick on the ground outside and even from his prime position at the front of the church he could see the dark circles under her eyes.
She looked like a woman who hadn’t slept for days, possibly weeks.
A woman who was holding it together by little more than a thread.
A woman who was about to pass out.
Oliver frowned, his instincts as a doctor battling with his responsibilities as best man. If it weren’t for the fact that the bride was due in less than two minutes, he’d have positioned himself next to her because it was his professional opinion that she was about to slide off the pew and collapse onto the stone floor of the little village church.
‘Stop ogling the guests.’ The man standing at his side jabbed him in the ribs. ‘This is my wedding. You’re not supposed to be eyeing up the talent. Or, at least, not until afterwards. You’re supposed to be supporting me in my hour of stress.’
Oliver dragged his eyes away from the girl and looked at his lifelong friend, a wry expression in his blue eyes. ‘Stress? You’re finally marrying Bryony, Jack. What’s there to be stressed about?’
Jack ran a finger along the inside of his collar. ‘You should know. You’re still single.’ He glanced nervously over his shoulder. ‘Have you remembered the ring? Are you sure you’ve remembered the ring?’
‘I’ve remembered the ring.’
‘Show me.’
‘For crying out loud …’ Oliver put a hand in his pocket and then groaned dramatically, his expression horrified as he pretended to fumble for the ring. ‘Oh, no! It must be in my other suit!’
‘You don’t own another suit and you’d better be kidding,’ Jack growled, ‘or you’ll be sorry.’
‘Trust me, I’m already sorry,’ Oliver said, withdrawing his hands from his pockets and suppressing a yawn. ‘This suit is unbelievably uncomfortable.’
Jack shot his friend a critical glance. ‘That’s because it doesn’t fit properly.’
Oliver flexed his broad shoulders and grimaced. ‘It doesn’t seem to allow for muscle.’
Jack’s eyes darted nervously to the door. ‘Where the hell is your sister?’
‘Fashionably late, and watch your language—you’re in church,’ Oliver muttered reprovingly. ‘Stop panicking, will you? She’ll be here.’
‘And where’s your brother? He’s supposed to be in charge of getting her here.’
Oliver rolled his eyes and then glanced over his shoulder towards the girl one more time.
She still hadn’t moved.
In fact, he had a feeling that if anyone touched her she might crumble. But no one else seemed to be paying her any attention. She appeared to be on her own. In every sense.
She looked so fragile and desolate that something tugged inside him. ‘Jack—who is that girl?’
‘Which girl?’
‘As far as I’m concerned there’s only one decent-looking girl in this church,’ Oliver drawled, ‘but obviously you’ve lost interest in such things since you proposed to my sister.’
Jack gave a sheepish grin. ‘I admit, I’m a hopeless case. Point me to the girl.’
‘The one in blue. Sitting at the back. Amazing dark hair.’
Jack looked. ‘The one who is about to keel over?’
‘That’s her.’ Oliver’s mouth tightened. ‘Damn, I hope she’s going to be OK.’
‘Now you’re the one swearing in church,’ Jack said mildly. ‘That’s Helen. One of Bryony’s friends from university.
The one who’s house-sitting for us. Are you sure your sister hasn’t changed her mind?’
Oliver wasn’t listening. ‘So she’s the one Bry asked me to keep an eye on,’ he murmured softly, his eyes narrowing as they swept Helen’s pale face. ‘I can see why she was worried. The girl looks as though she’s about to collapse.’
‘She’s had some sort of trauma.’ Jack ran a finger around his collar again as another stream of guests flowed into the tiny church. ‘Who are all these people?’
‘Friends of my family,’ Oliver said absently, his eyes still on the girl. ‘Do you know what the trauma was? Bryony wouldn’t tell me. How crazy is that? She asks me to look after her friend for the next month but doesn’t give me any clue as to the problem.’
‘That’s women for you. Totally illogical.’ Jack smothered a yawn. ‘But I’m pretty sure it was something to do with a man. Relationships are the pits.’
Oliver raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Am I supposed to black your eye at this point? You’re standing in church waiting to marry my sister.’
‘Well, obviously I don’t mean my relationship,’ Jack amended hastily, glancing towards the door again, ‘but think of all the women I had to date before I finally found Bryony.’
‘Bryony was under your nose for twenty-two years. It’s not her fault you’re a bit on the slow side.’
Jack looked at him curiously. ‘Did you know I loved her?’
‘Of course,’ Oliver said wearily. ‘Tom and I laid bets as to when you’d finally click.’
‘You should have told me.’
‘Well, in case you’ve forgotten, you weren’t that keen on the whole concept of commitment,’ Oliver said dryly, his eyes flickering back to Helen. ‘Is that what happened to her? Did some guy break her heart?’
Jack frowned. ‘You’re a doctor, for goodness’ sake. Hearts don’t break.’
‘Yes, they do.’ Oliver’s voice was soft. ‘I’m visiting an old lady at the moment who lost her husband of fifty-five years last summer. She’s in a mess.’
‘That’s depression,’ Jack said firmly. ‘Trust me, her heart is still intact.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘Unless I can find her another reason to live, she’s going to die. I know it.’ He frowned, unable to stop worrying about Hilda Graham, even though technically he wasn’t working. ‘Sh
e’s a dear old soul but all her family have moved down south. I need to find her a surrogate family. Someone for her to worry about and care about.’
Jack sighed. ‘I just don’t get you, Oliver Hunter. You’re Mr Rough and Tough on the outside but on the inside you’re like marshmallow. I’m amazed you didn’t settle down and have fifty children ten years ago.’
‘My parents had the perfect marriage. I’m waiting for Miss Right. And when I spot her I’m going to be quicker off the mark than you.’ He looked at the girl in the blue suit, thinking that he’d never been so drawn to a woman in his life.
‘I’m waiting for Miss Right, too,’ Jack muttered, his eyes still on the back of the church. ‘And I wish she’d get a move on. At this rate we’re going to miss our flight.’
‘I still can’t believe you’re going on honeymoon for a month.’ Oliver looked at his friend in disbelief. ‘Most people have two weeks, some have three. Four is excessive.’
‘Not for what I have planned. We’re sorting out Lizzie’s Christmas present.’ Jack gave a wicked grin. ‘Your niece and my soon-to-be stepdaughter wants a baby sister for her Christmas present next year so I figure Bryony and I need to give it our best shot.’
Oliver pulled a face. ‘Enough. I don’t even want to think about you having sex with my sister. And whatever you do, don’t say that to Tom. You know how protective he is of Bryony.’
‘I’m marrying her, for goodness’ sake!’
‘I realise that. Why else would I be dressed in this ridiculous outfit?’ Oliver glanced down at himself with distaste. ‘I honestly can’t believe I agreed to this.’
Jack grinned. ‘You look beautiful, darling.’
Oliver glowered at him. ‘And you’re going to look beautiful with matching black eyes.’
‘We’re in church and your mother is watching us,’ Jack reminded him cheerfully. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Don’t bet on it,’ Oliver muttered darkly. ‘When Ben and Ellie got married they virtually did it in climbing boots. None of this fancy stuff.’
‘Your sister wanted a fairy-tale wedding,’ Jack said simply, and Oliver shook his head in disbelief.
‘Do you know that you’ve undergone a complete personality change since you put that engagement ring on her finger two weeks ago? You were the guy who was never getting married and here am I dressed like a penguin and pretty soon you’re going to have 2.4 children. The world’s gone mad.’
‘I love your sister. Enough said.’ Jack’s eyes slid to the girl at the back of the church. ‘Helen does look awful, doesn’t she?’
‘She’s going to faint,’ Oliver said calmly. ‘The only question is, when? Is she ill? She looks ill—rack your brains and try and remember what has happened to her.’
Jack shrugged. ‘I wasn’t really paying attention. Something about a man and a job.’
‘Well, that’s helpful!’ Oliver shook his head in frustration. ‘You have no interest in your fellow humans.’
‘Well, not like you,’ Jack admitted. ‘That’s why you’re a GP and I’m an A and E doctor. I heal them and ship them out. Frankly, I don’t want to know how they got there and I’m not particularly interested in their lives. You nose around and get involved. You’ve always been the same—thinking that you can solve everyone’s problems. Delusions of grandeur, if you ask me.’
Oliver opened his mouth to retort but at that moment there was a sudden flurry of activity at the back of the church and the organist started to play.
Oliver took a last look at the girl and finally she moved. Her body seemed to tense as the music started and her eyes lifted from the elaborate flower arrangement at the front of the church and locked on his.
Oliver felt something shift inside him.
Suddenly the music faded into the background, along with the sudden buzz of anticipation among the guests. All he was aware of was those huge blue eyes, filled with such naked desperation that he felt his heart twist in sympathy.
It was as if she was begging him to rescue her.
It amazed him that she had the courage to sit there, feeling as bad as she clearly did, and he fought the temptation to stride the wrong way down the aisle, gather her close and keep her safe from whatever it was that was threatening her.
But there was no opportunity.
His sister had already started her walk down the aisle, clutching Tom’s arm.
Oliver turned back to the front, vowing to track Helen down as soon as he could. He just hoped that the girl didn’t faint before the ceremony was over.
She never should have come.
Helen clutched her bag tightly, fighting the sickness and the misery, wishing that she’d made an excuse.
But how could she not have come to her best friend’s wedding?
Bryony was finally marrying the man she’d been in love with for her whole life.
It would have been selfish of her not to be there for her friend’s happiest moment. The fact that it coincided painfully with her most miserable moment shouldn’t signify.
She sat still, reflecting that up until this moment she’d always thought of pain as being something that happened as a result of something physical. She’d nursed patients with broken limbs who’d been in pain, patients with diseases who’d been in pain.
But she was healthy. All the various bits of her body were still attached to each other and functioning perfectly well.
So why did she feel as though she’d been ripped apart?
Her emotions were so dangerously close to the surface that she was afraid that any moment she was going to lose control and allow two weeks of shock and misery to surface in public.
No! She wasn’t going to be that pathetic!
If she fell apart then David would have won, and she was not going to let a man do that to her!
Telling herself that she only had to get through the ceremony and then she could hide away, Helen swallowed hard, pressed her nails into her palms and watched as Bryony floated down the aisle, wearing a slinky cream dress trimmed in soft fur. Behind her came Lizzie, Bryony’s seven-year-old daughter, dressed in pink and carrying a fluffy purple muff.
Helen’s heart twisted painfully and her lips parted in a soft gasp.
It should have been her.
It should have been her walking down the aisle towards a man she loved.
She sat rigid, a lump forming in her throat as she saw Jack turn. His smile was for Bryony alone and everything he felt for her was visible in his eyes as he looked at the woman he loved.
Why did life work out for some people and not for others?
Helen watched, numb, as Jack ignored protocol and scooped an excited Lizzie into his arms, cuddling her close while he exchanged vows with the woman standing at his side.
Suddenly aware that the best man was watching her again, Helen fisted her hands in her lap and made a supreme effort to look casual. She’d never been introduced to him but she assumed that he must be one of Bryony’s two brothers.
And she’d already made a total fool of herself by staring at him as though he were a port in a storm. But there was something about his searching, sympathetic gaze that had drawn her to him and she’d found it hard to look away.
She reminded herself that there had to be a reason why he was staring at her and it wasn’t likely to be complimentary.
She must look like a hospital case.
Helen almost laughed but at the last moment she lifted a hand to her mouth, knowing that if she allowed the sound the freedom it craved, it would have been a sob.
Maybe she was a hospital case.
She felt so wounded that she couldn’t see how she could possibly recover.
Next to her a woman sniffed and rummaged in her bag for a tissue and Helen felt her own tension rise another notch.
No crying.
It was supposed to be OK to cry at weddings, but she didn’t dare. She just knew that if she started she would never be able to stop.
And she wished the best man
would stop looking at her. Judging from the keen look in his eyes, he’d guessed that something was wrong.
Either that or Bryony had told him.
Helen gritted her teeth, wishing that the ceremony would be over quickly.
She was not going to cry.
She was not going to be that pathetic.
‘Great speech.’ His brother Tom clapped him on the shoulder and Oliver nodded, distracted.
‘Yeah—I know. I’m a one-man comedy show. Have you seen the girl in the blue suit?’
She had to be here somewhere.
Oliver peered through the crowd of laughing guests, trying to spot her.
‘Why?’ Tom lifted an eyebrow quizzically. ‘Are you interested?’
Yes. Very.
But at the moment he was more worried than interested. He’d somehow missed her in the chaos of photographs at the church and her place had been empty for most of the meal. He needed to satisfy himself that she wasn’t lying in a heap on the floor somewhere.
‘Oliver, you were a lovely best man.’ Bryony approached, her eyes shining with happiness as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. ‘Why are you looking so serious?’
His eyes slid round the room again. ‘Bry, your friend, Helen …’
Bryony’s smile faded. ‘What about her?’
‘I saw her in the church. She didn’t look good. And now she’s vanished.’
Bryony looked worried. ‘I honestly didn’t expect her to come,’ she confessed, glancing around the room with an anxious expression on her face. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw her. I assumed it meant that she was holding up all right.’
‘She wasn’t holding up all right,’ Oliver said flatly. ‘She looked a mess.’
‘That’s why I want you to keep an eye on her for me. She was so devastated by what happened—’ Bryony broke off and shook her head. ‘I just hate the thought of her being on her own in my cottage.’
‘So what happened?’
Bryony bit her lip. ‘I can’t tell you.’