by Zoe York
She breathed in deeply. “I’ll try.”
“And don’t ever change. Not for him. Not for anyone.”
This time she kissed him.
That was the last alone time they had that day. After lunch, Tegan and Wyatt arrived with a good chunk of SEALs, and it was Frank who was whisked away by his men. He caught Grace’s gaze as she swept her arms around her daughter, and then it was a few hours of beers and stories with a good group of young guys who cared deeply about his well-being.
“I don’t know if I appreciated your thoughtfulness enough before I flew out here,” he said gruffly. He hadn’t appreciated it when he’d arrived, either, but he kept that part to himself. “But this week has been good for me. And I’m already over my jet lag, which is quite nice.”
They all laughed at that, but he was serious, and he told them so. It was a day for gratitude, and he was taking that seriously.
But after dinner, when all the greetings were over, and the group was getting comfortable with each other, the solemnity passed. As the illusionist began his show, Frank knew exactly who to push up onto stage when it came time for the paintball trick.
“Wyatt,” he said, leaning forward to clap the groom on the shoulder as everyone gasped at Wick, juggling the paintball gun with those balls. “Put your hand in the air.”
“Sir?”
“Trust me,” he said quietly in the SEAL’s ear. “This is going to make Tegan’s night.”
Wyatt’s hand went into the air. Good man, Frank thought. He was going to make a good husband for Grace’s daughter.
Tegan squealed as the magician picked her fiancé to join him on stage, and she gripped her mother’s hand as Wyatt did exactly what Frank had done. He followed the man’s instructions, trusting that it was an illusion and nothing more.
But if the guy wanted to get shot, a SEAL would make that happen.
When Wyatt returned to his seat, everyone applauding enthusiastically, Grace shot Frank a knowing look.
He grinned.
After the show drew to a close, people drifted off in different directions. Frank headed to his cabin alone, but he didn’t go to bed. When Grace made her way down the path forty-five minutes later, he was waiting on their porch. “Did you like that?”
She stopped in front of him. “I don’t think I’ve given you enough credit for your sense of humour.”
He smiled faintly. “Maybe I haven’t shown enough of it to you.”
“Want to take me to bed and show me a bit right now?”
“Nothing I want to do to you in bed is funny,” he protested.
“I bet we’re going to laugh,” she said.
She was right.
Chapter 13
Friday night, Tegan slept over in Grace’s cabin, so the mother-of-the-bride didn’t get any late-night laughs with her secret boyfriend. It was a worthwhile sacrifice to cuddle with her daughter one last time before her baby got married.
The next morning, they did yoga at dawn, then got pampered by a crew of people who came in from Briarsted.
By the time the photographer arrived to document their progression to the ceremony site in the woods, Grace was super emotional.
“I’m not going to cry,” she said bravely.
“Mom, your cheeks are already wet,” Tegan whispered, leaning in to kiss one of the tear-streaked patches.
“Damn it.” Grace dragged in a breath. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. And here I am, and it’s just…you’re so beautiful, baby.”
She really was. Tegan had picked a lightweight wedding dress that moved like the wind as she followed the photographer’s instructions. First, they stood together at Grace’s cabin on the porch, mother and daughter smiling brightly to stave off threatening tears. Tegan’s hand found Grace’s and squeezed tight. Then they moved toward the path leading into the woods where the ceremony would take place. The photographer had Tegan stop in a sun-spot, where the golden streams of light made her glow.
Her floral crown, which replaced a more traditional veil, and Grace’s daughter looked every inch a truly-in-love woodland nymph.
Then Tegan’s dad appeared at the top of the path. She ran to him, and Grace let them have their moment, their set of photos together before she caught up.
When she fell into step on Tegan’s right, Charles looked over at her and smiled. She was shocked to see his eyes were wet. For all that she didn’t understand this man, they shared an elemental emotion today. Their baby, who had grown up a long time ago, was now starting her own family. They were officially done being her immediate, primary unit.
They had never been a conventional family, not even before the divorce. Charles had always worked in the city and they’d only ever had a piece of him. Once she’d moved upstate it had become official. He’d taken Tegan on holidays and paid for her to come to Camp Firefly Falls.
Two decades later, this place was changing Grace’s life in the most unexpected way.
She smiled back at her ex. “Ready?” she asked Tegan. “I think your groom is waiting for you.”
Tegan took a deep breath and linked her arms with both of her parents. “Let’s do this.”
Frank stood next to Wyatt’s parents. They were good, honest folks. Farmers from Wisconsin who hadn’t been enthusiastic about their son’s choice to join the navy, but today they couldn’t look prouder. Elaine’s eyes were bright with tears, even as she beamed, and Brian kept giving Wyatt a thumbs-up.
The wedding would happen in the center of a circle of people. Right now, there was a gap at the trail head, where Tegan and her parents would appear momentarily. Her two bridesmaids, Molly and Priya, were waiting on either side of the space, ready to close the circle tight once the bride arrived.
A speaker lodged in the crook of a tree played a simple instrumental piece. Flute music which fit the setting perfectly.
In Frank’s experience, SEALs tended to go in one direction or another when it came to getting married. Dress uniforms all the way—like he had done thirty-three years earlier—or not a single military reference anywhere to be seen. Henderson had gone that route, and it seemed to suit the couple. It also suited the setting.
All the men were in suit jackets, although not all wore ties. The groom and his two best men were in khaki. So was his father. Frank had gone with a navy-blue suit himself—and the tie was tight, as it should be.
He’d been touched when Elaine Henderson gave him a flower for his label that matched her husband’s. “You’ve been like a father to our son for more than a decade,” she’d said. “When we weren’t sure what he needed, you led the way. We’ll always be grateful for that.”
Now she let out a small gasp, and Frank followed her attention to the trail. The first thing he saw was Grace, and for a beat, she was all he could see. She was breathtaking. Her blonde waves were pinned up and back, with delicate flowers tucked into her hair. They matched the ones on his jacket, and his chest pulled tight.
Then he turned his gaze to her daughter. Tegan Bennett had always impressed him. Smart, lovely, and kind. Today was no different. She shone as a bride, with flowers in her hair and a beaming smile that completed the gorgeous presentation.
One day, she would look just like her mother. Wyatt was a lucky man.
Heather Tully stepped forward. “As a newly licensed marriage officiant, I am thrilled to guide Tegan and Wyatt through their commitment ceremony today. Two years ago, this couple met here at camp, and as they have moved toward this moment, they have thought long and hard about what it means to marry each other. For that reason, they have chosen to write their own vows. Please join hands and give them your heart-felt energy as they commit themselves to each other in blessed matrimony.”
Frank took Elaine’s hand on one side, and Grady Mills’ on the other.
In the center of the circle, a tough-as-nails Navy SEAL took hands with a hippie girl and his voice cracked as he started to recite vows he’d clearly memorized. “I, Wyatt, take you, Tegan, to be my w
ife. I promise to stand by your side through life’s ups and downs. Through tough times and joyous ones, too. I will celebrate all of your successes, support you in everything that you do, and never let go of your hand when things get hard. I will be your mate. You have my heart.”
“I will protect it,” Tegan whispered back, but the words still carried through the clearing. “With everything I have. And you have mine.”
“I will protect it,” Wyatt said gruffly. “With everything I have.”
“I know you will.” Tegan smiled a million-watt grin. “I, Tegan, take you, Wyatt, to be my husband. I promise to stand by your side through life’s ups and downs. Through tough times and joyous ones, too. I will celebrate all of your successes, support you in everything that you do, and never let go of your hand when things get hard. I will be your mate. You have my heart.”
Heather raised her hands in the air, and as one, the group did the same, a circle of fists drawing up to the sky. Before Frank could react one way or the other to the intense woo moment, it was over. The camp director-turned-wedding officiant exhaled and dropped her hands, a glorious smile on her face.
Sort of like a prayer, he guessed. He could roll with that.
“Tegan and Wyatt, you have exchanged vows from the heart. Let these words be your guiding path as you navigate the world together, hand-in-hand. Know also that you are surrounded by a powerful circle of friends and family. Lean on them in difficult times. Trust them to support your marriage when things get tough, and celebrate your successes, just as you will do so for each other. Marriage is a vital pillar of your community, and your community is a pillar in your marriage.”
It was true, Frank realized with a jolt. He’d always thought of his marriage as an island, his refuge from the intensity of his career. But Bianca had been there for his SEALs and their spouses, and when things for tough for him, his SEALs had been there for him.
Tegan and Wyatt kissed, a sweet, long embrace that everyone cheered, then the delicate flute music returned, and they were showered with flower petals as they took to the path, leading a procession back down the trail for their lunch reception and an afternoon of dancing and drinking.
He found himself drawn to Grace as the circle dissolved.
“That was beautiful,” he said, meaning every word.
She waved a handkerchief at him before tucking it into an invisible pocket in her dress. “I know!”
He chuckled and leaned in. “You look lovely, by the way.”
She blushed.
Would they ever get a chance to have a public relationship? Frank wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to get married again, but Heather’s hippy-dippy words about marriage and community had him thinking.
And all of his thoughts right now were about this blonde pixie beside him.
“Could I have this dance?”
He’d been eying her for an hour. There was not a single cell in her body that wanted to deny him this request, and so she didn’t. Maybe it was the champagne talking, or maybe she just really liked Frank so much she wanted to dance with him. “Absolutely.”
“How much wine have you had?”
“Not enough to crawl into the wrong bed,” she said primly.
“Enough to crawl into the right bed?”
“Definitely.”
He chuckled as he turned her around the dance floor.
“Are you having a good time?” she asked.
“I am. I really am.” He sighed contentedly. “This week ended up quite differently than I’d expected.”
“For me too.” She said it softly, but there was no masking the wistfulness in her voice. Damn it, champagne. That was not the influence she’d been looking for.
“This doesn’t need to be goodbye.”
She’d been thinking about that. It didn’t need to be. But maybe it should be. It would be easier that way. They could forever think back on this week as a lovely moment in time.
“Grace?”
She couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t say those thoughts, couldn’t bring herself to hope that maybe she would see him again and they could keep exploring whatever this was between them. “Tonight,” she whispered, not meeting his eye. “Let’s talk about this later.”
“I want to talk about it now.”
“But I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, the words tearing from her chest in a panic.
He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, took one clear look at her face, and led her out of the tent and around the corner of the boathouse.
“Frank—”
He cut her off with a kiss, hard and unexpected, his hands on her face first, then pushed back into her hair. He held her still and tasted her over and over again, before finally pressing his forehead hard against hers. “I don’t know what to say either, wildflower. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”
“This was just a little fling—”
“Not little. No matter what, don’t diminish what this was.”
“But I don’t know what it was,” she whispered. That was the truth. She’d held on for dear life while the universe whipped her and Frank into a lather, and now that it was done, she wasn’t quite sure what had happened to them.
Something lovely. And he was right—not little at all.
“It was an ambush,” he murmured. “We didn’t see it coming.”
“That’s for sure.”
“I want to see you again. I know what it is to only have memories, Grace. I don’t want to cling to memories when someone good and real could be in my arms instead.”
She dragged in a deep breath. “Maybe when I come out to visit Tegan…”
“Or I can come visit you. I’m retiring in a month, and I’ll have a lot of free time on my hands.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.” He brushed a light kiss against her forehead. “You make my heart feel whole again, Grace. That’s important. I don’t want to push too hard, but this week healed me, right here.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. “Thank you. Again. Always. Thank you.”
Chapter 14
October
Saratoga Springs
Grace put the last of her new batch of soap in the cupboard, where it would cure for the next six weeks. It was quitting time. Her assistant had left an hour ago, but she’d wanted to get a bit more work done while Frank was busy outside.
She tidied up, then went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge.
He was at the back of her property chopping wood. He’d been doing it daily since he arrived, and at this rate, she’d have enough split logs for the next three winters. He’d even dragged her, albeit willingly, to the home improvement store yesterday so he could get a better ax. Something about a man needing a proper tool to get the job done right.
When she found him, she watched him work, because he didn’t look up.
He was a machine.
“I have beer,” she finally said.
He split one more log. “Excellent.”
“I’m worried about you.”
He set the ax down slowly and hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “You can tell me what’s wrong. I won’t be upset. Is this too much? Too fast?”
He lifted his head again, his mouth hanging open. “Shit. No, Grace. God, that’s not it at all. I’m sorry because I wasn’t clear enough that I’m just fine. I’m happy. I’ve thrown myself into splitting all your logs because it feels good. That’s all.”
Relief coursed through her. “Oh. Oh! That’s great!”
He smiled gently. “You were worried about me.” A statement. A soft, happy statement.
“I was. I am.”
“I worry about you too, but I wasn’t sure that was allowed.”
She laughed. “What do you worry about?”
“You not having enough logs split for the winter, for example.”
“I’m probably good now. And I can always order a cord of
wood if I haven’t—”
“Why would you do that when I could—”
“Because—”
They stopped at the same time and just looked at each other. Then Frank sat on the stump, his ax clattering to the side. “Come here, woman.”
She laughed as he tugged her into his lap. She handed him his beer and they clinked bottle necks together.
“I want to get your firewood ready,” he said gruffly. “I want to be around a lot this winter, and I’m a weak California boy, so we’re going to need a lot of fires to get me through, you hear me?”
“I hear you,” she whispered. “I like the sound of that.”
“Do you? Good. Sometimes I’m not sure.”
She sipped her beer. “I’m sorry.”
He kissed her. He tasted like beer, and she liked that a lot.
“We need to talk more,” she murmured.
“I spent thirty years with Bianca figuring out my strangeness and translating it into human. I’m out of practice in having to say things out loud all the time.”
“It’s been twenty-five years for me.” She sighed. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”
“Maybe that’s why we work.”
“I guess so.”
“I know what I want,” he said quietly. Assuredly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“Me too. Both on the thinking and knowing.” She pulled back enough to make sure he could see her face. “I want you around a lot this winter, too.”
“And when the snow gets too cold, you can come to my place in Coronado. You’ve got a daughter to visit, she’s a good excuse.”
She cupped his face with her free hand. “I don’t need an excuse to come and visit you, Frank. And I can stay at Tegan’s house if that’s easier.”
“I said what I said. I want you to come to my place. I want—” He took a deep breath. “I want to split wood here. I want to fix your bookcases and build you new ones. I want to show you my life, my home, and share it with you. I want you to bring life back to Bianca’s books, and not because they were hers, but because they’ve sat still for more than a year and you’ll love them.”