Was she confused? “Are you sure?” I asked. “This doesn’t look like a funeral home or a church or anything.”
“I’m sure.”
Doubtful, I turned where she said and followed the winding gravel road to where it curved into a circular drive in front of a huge, beautiful home that looked like a European castle. Beyond it stretched the rolling hills of a vineyard and several smaller buildings. To the left of the house was a gravel parking lot about a third full of cars. I looked for any indication that there was a funeral service here today but saw none. The people getting out of their cars and heading for the house were all young or middle-aged and dressed up.
“You can pull right up to the door, dear,” said Mrs. Gardner. “I was told we can park in the drive.”
I did as she asked, and that’s when I noticed the sign, a large rectangular chalkboard with flowers draped across the top. Welcome, it said in flowing lower-case script. Then beneath that in smaller capital letters:
EMME & NATE
NOVEMBER 10, 2018
My confusion lasted only long enough for me to put the truck in park.
I looked over at the old lady. “You didn’t.”
She smiled deviously. “I’m afraid I did.”
My heart was hammering in my chest. I couldn’t face Stella here, with a million people around, at a wedding. I didn’t even know what I was going to say to her yet!
“I can’t go in,” I said stiffly, my jaw set.
“Nonsense. You and Stella have been apart long enough.”
“I’m—I’m unprepared. I can’t go into a situation unprepared.”
“You’re as prepared as you’ll ever be. Trust me.” She patted my leg.
“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”
“Forgive me, dear, but that’s just asinine. She’s in love with you. Of course she wants to see you. And didn’t you ask me for her address so you could pay her a visit? Tell her you were wrong?”
“Well, yes, but—but I thought I’d have more time to get my thoughts together,” I sputtered. “I’d have the long ride down there, and—and—”
“She doesn’t want a rehearsed speech, Mr. Woods. She wants you to speak from the heart. She wants you to look her in the eye and make her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Like she’s the only one for you.”
I swallowed hard. “She is.”
“See? You’ll be fine. Now be a dear and help me down from here.” She looked out the passenger window. “I could possibly make the leap but I might not stick the landing.”
“Don’t move.” I jumped out of the truck and hurried around to the passenger side. The Marine in me wanted to assess this new setting, scope out the people arriving, look for the entrances and exits, but I kept my focus on the ground. I didn’t want Stella to see me yet.
I opened the passenger door and helped Mrs. Gardner down, making sure she was safely on the walkway to the front door. “I’ll just go park the car in the lot,” I said.
She tightened her hold on my elbow. “Oh, no. You’ll stay right here with me. You agreed to be my escort and I need someone to walk me down the aisle. They’re seating me special, you know.”
I cringed, making her laugh.
She patted my arm. “Don’t look so scared, Mr. Woods. After all the brave things you’ve done in your life, this will be a piece of cake.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I locked the truck and led her into the house. My pulse was racing, and my skin was hot beneath my clothes.
In the front entrance hall, a woman in a black dress kissed Mrs. Gardner lightly on both cheeks. “Hello,” she said warmly. “How are you feeling today?”
“Delightful. Just delightful.”
The woman turned to me and smiled. “And who’s your date?”
Mrs. Gardner giggled. “This is Mr. Ryan Woods. He’s my next-door neighbor. Ryan, this is Mia Devine. She’s Stella’s cousin on her father’s side and proprietress of this beautiful place.”
The woman, a petite, striking brunette, held out her hand. “It’s Mia Fournier now, actually. My husband Lucas and I own Abelard. Welcome.”
I shook her hand. “Thank you.”
“Ryan works at Cloverleigh, over near me,” said Mrs. Gardner proudly, almost like I was one of her grandchildren.
Mia looked impressed. “We love Cloverleigh. The inn there is one of our favorite romantic spots to get away, and the food is delicious. My husband is friends with the winemaker there, Henry DeSantis.”
I nodded. “I work with Henry a lot.”
She smiled. “How nice. Well, the family and wedding party are all hiding away in rooms around the house. Would you like to join them or be seated?”
Mrs. Gardner gripped my elbow again. “Mr. Woods is going to escort me to my seat right before the ceremony.”
“Fantastic,” Mia said. “So I’ll have Skylar, my assistant, show you to one of the family rooms where you can wait. She’s actually in charge of coordinating everything today so I can sit back and enjoy.” She checked a delicate gold watch on her wrist. “It won’t be too long now. Maybe twenty minutes.”
“Perfect.” Mrs. Gardner nodded. “Thank you, dear.”
Mia called out to Skylar, a pretty blonde dressed in a gray skirt and jacket carrying a clipboard. She smiled and led us through a set of double doors into a library, where a few other people stood around with glasses of champagne. The three men all wore dark charcoal gray suits with wine-colored ties and boutonnieres. They were older, in their fifties or sixties maybe, so I didn’t think they were groomsmen. Probably family, I thought, my stress level rising. One of them might be Stella’s dad. Was her mother here too? My own necktie felt tight.
I looked at the two women, who were both wearing long dresses and wrist corsages, and stood talking in a corner. One had short gray hair and one wore her hair up, a golden blond like Stella. I stopped walking, but Mrs. Gardner pulled me along like a reluctant, oversized toddler.
“Come here, dear. I want to introduce you to my daughter. Stella’s mother.”
My blood went icy as we approached the two women. I couldn’t speak.
“Valerie, dear, I’d like you to meet someone,” Mrs. Gardner said.
The blond woman turned to face me, and I saw the resemblance right away. She was tall and slender like Stella, with the same blue eyes and wide smile. “Hello,” she said, clearly surprised. She glanced at her mother and then back at me with a wink. “Who’s this, Mom? Do you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”
Mrs. Gardner laughed and patted my arm before letting go of me. “This is Ryan Woods. He’s my neighbor. Mr. Woods, this is my daughter, Valerie.”
Recognition lit up Valerie’s face. “You’re the one who’s always taking care of things for Mom!” She clasped my hand in both of hers. “We can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, wondering if Stella had said anything about me.
“It’s something to us, and we appreciate it.” She squeezed my hand and let it go, then gestured to the gray-haired woman. “This is the groom’s mother, Karen Pearson. Karen, I think you met my mother last night, and this is Ryan.”
“Nice to meet you.” Karen looked very nervous and clutched a purse in front of her stomach in one hand and a full glass of champagne in the other.
Valerie put an arm around her. “Karen and I are trying to drown our nerves with a little bubbly. Would you like some?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Gardner. “That sounds lovely.”
“No, thank you.” I wasn’t a huge fan of champagne, and I felt like I needed to stay sharp anyway. I could not fuck this up.
Valerie motioned to a server carrying a tray of full champagne glasses and then touched my arm. “Did you get a chance to meet Emme and Stella when they were visiting last month?”
“Uh, yes.” My voice came out scratchy, and I cleared my throat.
“Oh, good. Then it won’t be too terrible to sit through the wedding. Nothing worse t
han having to attend one of these things when you have no idea who anyone is.” She smiled again, and it was clear she had Stella’s way of putting people at ease.
“Mr. Woods took a little shine to our Stella, I daresay,” teased Mrs. Gardner.
Was it wrong to have a quick murderous thought about an old lady?
“Really,” said Valerie, her smile deepening. “How nice. Would you like to meet her father?”
“Um …” What I really wanted to do was run my ass off right back to the truck, but I forced myself to nod, praying her dad wasn’t some macho asshole with strong opinions about the war. All I knew from Stella was that her parents were divorced, and her father had remarried. “Okay.”
She led me over to the three men in charcoal suits. “Gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to Ryan Woods. He brought Ruthie here today. Lives next door to her.”
I was grateful she hadn’t said anything about Stella. “Hi,” I said, offering my hand to the guy on my left, a trim, silver-haired fifty-something with Stella’s dimpled chin. He had to be her father.
“Good to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand. “I’m John, the bride’s father, and this is my husband, Roberto.” He gestured to the tall Hispanic man on his left, who seemed a little younger with a more athletic build and a sharper jaw.
It surprised me, since Stella hadn’t mentioned her dad had married a man the second time around, but I did my best to keep a neutral expression as I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
The third guy turned out to be Valerie’s boyfriend Phil, a little older, a little heavier set, with glasses, salt and pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard. I forgot his name immediately. Actually, I forgot all of their names immediately. My nerves were getting worse by the moment. Would I see her before the ceremony? Or would our first glimpse of each other in weeks be as she walked past me down the aisle?
I felt a tug on my arm. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” It was Mrs. Gardner. “Could I steal my neighbor away for a moment?”
Everyone nodded and she pulled me aside. “How are you doing?”
“I’m not sure.” I tugged at my collar. “It feels a little warm in here.”
She smiled knowingly. “You’re doing fine. We have about ten minutes. Would you like to see Stella before we’re seated?”
I did, but the thought of having to say everything I wanted to tell her in ten minutes made me light-headed. “I don’t know. Should I? It’s not much time, and I—”
“It’s plenty of time,” she said, dragging me out the double doors and into the front hall again. “You wait right here. Excuse me, young lady!”
The woman with the clipboard who’d shown us into the library, Mia’s assistant—I forgot her name too—turned and smiled as Mrs. Gardner approached. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to speak with one of the bridesmaids. My granddaughter Stella,” she said. “Would that be possible?”
“Certainly. The bridal party is in a room upstairs.” She glanced at the staircase and back at the elderly woman in front of her. “I’ll go get her for you.”
“Perfect. Oh, I’d like to speak to her in private. Is there a quiet room we could use?”
“Sure.” She looked around and pointed toward the back of the house. “The kitchen is actually empty right now. The caterers are set up in a tent. Will that work?”
“Yes. Thank you, dear. What was your name again?”
“Skylar.”
“Thank you, Skylar.” She waited for Skylar to head up the stairs and hurried back over to me. “Head right through there,” she said, pointing toward the hall leading to the kitchen. “I’m going to disappear.”
The expression on my face must have indicated my level of panic. “Don’t be nervous, darling. This was meant to be.” She brushed some dust off my suit and straightened my tie before placing a hand on my cheek. “You know, I heard somewhere that the strongest thing someone can be is vulnerable, and you seem like a very strong fellow.”
Her words, and her faith in me, doubled my strength.
“Thanks.” I gave her wrinkly cheek a peck and strode off toward the kitchen like I was marching into battle.
I would get Stella back or die trying.
Thirty-Eight
Stella
The knock on the Bride’s Room door surprised us.
Emme gasped, jumping to her feet from where she’d been perched on a loveseat, gathering the billowing tulle of her off-the-shoulder wedding dress and hurrying back to the mirror. I don’t know what she was worried about. She was beyond stunning. Simply flawless. Every time I looked at her in her gorgeous white gown and Grams’s veil, which she’d decided she preferred over the one she’d originally chosen, I got choked up. And she glowed. Maybe it was pure happiness, maybe it was the life she carried inside her, but I’d never seen my sister so radiant.
“Is it time already?” she fretted, leaning close to the full-length mirror. “I thought we had like ten more minutes!”
I checked the clock on the wall. “I think we do. It’s only three-thirty.”
Maren, glass of champagne in hand, went to answer it.
“Hi,” said Skylar Pryce, Mia’s assistant. “Sorry to bother you girls, but your grandmother is downstairs and would like a quick word with Stella.”
My sisters and I exchanged a look.
“What’s this about?” Emme asked suspiciously, like I might have had the nerve to plan something behind her back.
I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
“Well, hurry up.” Emme made frantic circles in the air with one hand. “I don’t want to get behind schedule before things even get started.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Setting my champagne glass down on a table, I followed Skylar out of the room and down the stairs.
“Careful,” she said, looking over her shoulder at me.
I dutifully picked up the skirt of my dark purple dress—“It’s eggplant, dammit!” insisted Emme in my head—and made my way to the first floor.
“She’s in the kitchen, which is that way,” Skylar said, pointing toward an archway off the foyer. “Need me to show you?”
“No, I’ll find it. Thank you.” I started down the hallway, my heels tapping on the stone tile floor. Passing a mirror hung over a small table, I gave myself a quick once-over, lest the reason for Grams’s summons be to critique my appearance, but I found nothing objectionable, at least to my eye. The color of the flowing strapless dress looked nice with my fair skin. The front of my hair was pulled back, and the rest fell in soft curls over my bare shoulders. I wore more makeup than usual, but didn’t feel overdone, as the artist had stuck to the soft blush-toned neutrals I’d requested, and I’d foregone the false lashes. If Grams found fault with me today, she was crazy, I decided. I looked and felt good.
I continued walking down the hall, wondering if there was any way Ryan might see a picture from today, maybe in a frame at Grams’s house. It would serve him right to see me looking like this, I thought. He wouldn’t know that I died a little inside every time I thought of him.
I pushed open the kitchen door to find it dim and empty. For a moment, I was confused. Had Skylar sent me to the wrong place?
“Hello?” I called out. “Grams?”
“She’s not here.” The voice was deep and sent a shiver up my spine.
The door swung shut behind me.
Thirty-Nine
Ryan
She took my breath away.
For a moment, I’d been unable to say anything as my eyes hungrily took in everything about her—the wave in her hair, the curve of her breasts, the narrow waist above a long, flowing skirt. Beneath that dress I imagined her long, smooth legs, and my knees threatened to buckle.
“Hello?” she called. “Grams?”
“She’s not here.” I stepped out from the shadowed periphery of the kitchen and moved closer to her.
Stella gasped, placing a hand on her chest. “Ryan! You scared me.”
“S
orry.” My heart beat furiously in my chest.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure, actually. Your grandmother tricked me into coming. I thought I was taking her to a funeral.”
“What? Where is Grams?”
“I’m not sure about that either, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she were somewhere close enough to feed me lines when I start messing this up.”
“Messing what up?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What is this, Ryan?”
My tongue was tied in knots. Her expression wasn’t all that reassuring—not openly hostile, but not happy. “God, Stella. I’ve walked into enemy territory with a cooler head than I’ve got right now. You’re so beautiful, I can hardly breathe.”
She softened a bit, dropping her arms. “Thank you.”
“I’ve been in here for the last few minutes, going over all the things I wished I could have said to you that night in the rain, but looking at you, I can’t even think straight.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “And we have no time for this. God, I knew I’d fuck this up.”
“Hey.” She came toward me. “It’s okay. Take a breath.”
She was such an angel. It was so dim I couldn’t see the sapphire color of her eyes, but I could feel their calming effect on me. I took her hand and brought her fingers to my lips.
“Ryan. Talk to me,” she whispered.
“I got your letter. I want another chance,” I said, my voice breaking over the words. “I want to try again to be good enough for you. I want to stop fighting everything I feel.”
“What do you feel?” Her voice was shaky.
“Like I’ve been shot through the heart,” I said honestly. “And I might bleed to death if I don’t find a way to heal the wound.”
“Ryan,” she said, sniffing a little. “I can’t heal you. I can love you, and if you’d let me, I would, but you have to feel in order to do that.”
“I know.” I kissed her hand again. “I know.”
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