A Country Wedding

by Duncan Leigh

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  “Bradley Sutton” Cowboy Steak Sandwiches

  A Country Wedding

  Copyright @ 2018 Crown Media Family Networks

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-947892-21-7

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-947892-20-0

  www.hallmarkpublishing.com

  For more about the movie visit:

  www.hallmarkchannel.com/a-country-wedding

  Chapter One

  Bradley Suttons twirled his Stetson on the tips of his fingers. Light glinted off the buckle on the fourteen-hundred-dollar hat that had been a gift from his agent. In the shadows beyond the cameras that tracked his every move, someone made a chopping motion, meaning Stop that.

  Bradley stilled. He traced his fingers over the brim and gave himself a stern reminder to keep his trademark smile in place while he willed away the urge to squint or squirm or stand and walk straight out of the studio.

  Quit your bellyaching. He wasn’t really going to complain about the dizzying heat or the blinding glow that came from all the spotlights aimed at him, was he? Not when he’d spent the past ten years working to get where he was. Every step he’d taken, every stage he’d stepped onto in the bars around Nashville, every mic he’d poured his heart and soul into—they’d all led to this moment.

  He glanced at the incredibly talented, beautiful woman seated next to him on the couch. Catherine tipped her head toward his. The smile she always wore in public, the one that rarely touched eyes the color of fine cognac, deepened as she met his gaze. A long, blond curl slid over her shoulder. Bradley’s fingers ached to reach out, tuck the errant hair back into place. Aware that millions of viewers were watching, he merely cupped his knee. He was a lucky, lucky man. He’d landed the girl of his dreams, signed a recording contract, amassed a fortune, and now, finally, had the fame that guaranteed the fulfillment of his every wish. Not too bad for a kid whose whole world had come tumbling down around him at thirteen.

  The final chorus of “Love Don’t Die Easy” bounced off the walls of the studio. He looked up as the hit that had catapulted him into stardom came to an end.

  “I love that song.” The host of the nation’s most popular morning talk show tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Seated to give viewers the full benefit of the panoramic view of Hollywood over his shoulder, Stan beamed a dreamy smile straight into the cameras. “How did it feel to win Album Of The Year at the Grammys?”

  Surreal. Bradley glanced down at the toes of his shoes. The Italian leather boots probably cost more than he’d earned in the entire year he’d written that song. He leaned forward, directing his answer at the blinking red light on Camera Three rather than their host, just like Catherine had coached him to do. “Well, not too long ago I was playing in bars and clubs around Nashville. So, winning a Grammy has been quite a change.” Thanks to the award, he had the life that, a few years ago, he’d only dreamed of living.

  Not that everything was perfect. All the newfound fame and fortune had placed so many extra demands on his time that he was way behind on the new album. Between his schedule and Catherine’s work on what was sure to be another blockbuster movie, the two of them rarely spent any time alone together. When she’d called last night and asked if he could free up his morning, he’d had a momentary vision of the two of them eating breakfast and trading kisses over orange juice and coffee. Instead, they’d spent the last two hours in makeup and rehearsals before they were ushered onto the set.

  But no one turned down the opportunity to appear on Stan’s show. No one. Not unless they wanted to watch their careers sink below the horizon like the setting sun. Careful not to let even the slightest hint of frustration show, Bradley eased back into the plush leather couch when the host’s attention shifted.

  “Catherine Mann.” Stan’s dark eyes lit with the fervor of a true fan. The coppery brackets around his mouth deepened as, exuding confidence and poise, he crossed one long leg over the other. “It’s a real thrill to have you in the studio today.”

  “Thank you, Stan.” Catherine’s perfectly modulated voice caressed the mics while she gave the shy smile that had first delighted movie goers when she was a child, turned her name into a household word as a teen, and stolen his heart the moment Bradley had met her. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  “You discovered Bradley, didn’t you?” The consummate morning show host, Stan dove straight into the meat of the interview. “I mean, he was already well known in Nashville. But you brought him to Los Angeles and got him a recording deal.”

  Bradley felt his shoulders stiffen. Sure, things had begun to change for him once he and Catherine had started seeing each other. Her name had opened a few doors. But it had been his talent that had propelled him upward and gotten him where he was today.

  “I introduced him to a few people,” Catherine admitted. She slipped her perfectly manicured fingers over his knee and stared deeply into his eyes. “But he’s a pretty talented guy. He got himself a recording deal.”

  Her firm answer shut down Stan’s line of questioning and soothed the acidic burn in Bradley’s stomach. Undaunted, the talk show host smoothly changed subjects. “And the two of you have been inseparable ever since?”

  The melodic tones of Catherine’s laugh echoed through the small space. “I think the first time I heard Bradley sing”—emotion flickered in her eyes for an all-too-brief moment before she turned to face Stan—“I fell in love with him.”

  As if he sensed a story, Stan leaned forward. “Are you saying the two of you might have some news for us one day?”

  Bradley straightened and said, “We like to keep our private lives private.” In rehearsals, Stan had offered repeated assurances that his guests’ personal lives would remain off-limits. Yet less than five minutes into the interview, the host was already prying into matters Bradley and Catherine had decided they’d rather not have aired on national TV. He looked to Catherine for support.

  “We’re engaged to be married,” his bride-to-be blurted.

  Despite the countless stage appearances and a thousand-and-one coaching sessions where he’d learned to keep a carefully crafted façade in place, Bradley couldn’t even begin to hide his surprise.

  He and Catherine had talked about this. They’d decided to keep the depth of their feelings for one another hidden from their adoring—but demanding—fans who’d insist on knowing every detail of their wedding plans. She knew how important it was to him to
keep their relationship to themselves. So why had she just shared the news of their engagement on national TV?

  “Now, I know we agreed not to share this publicly, but…” Catherine patted his arm. The wattage on her signature smile increased to the point where it practically guaranteed to turn her fans’ hearts all aflutter. “I just want the whole world to know how happy I am.”

  “Well, you heard it here first, folks.” Stan’s pleased grin announced to viewers everywhere that he’d just scored the scoop of the century. “Catherine Mann and Bradley Suttons are engaged to be married!”

  Bradley took a deep breath, steadied his nerves, and aimed a loving look at his fiancée. There really wasn’t anything else for him to do, was there? He couldn’t very well shut the door now that the horse had already bolted out of the barn. Besides, if he knew anything about his fiancée, it was that Catherine never made a move in public without having a very good reason for it.

  Now, he just needed to figure out what that reason was.

  Sarah Standor dusted her hands on the back of her well-worn jeans as the screened door she’d been walking in and out of her entire life swung shut behind her. Voices came from the corner of the roomy ranch house. She’d left the TV on to keep her rescue dogs company while she fed and watered the horses this morning. When she glanced at the screen, her footsteps slowed.

  The devastatingly handsome cowboy on the talk show sat next to Catherine Mann, America’s reigning box-office queen. Sarah resumed her march to the coffeemaker and poured herself a much-needed cup. The starlet on TV giggled like a schoolgirl, tossed her long blonde curls, and announced their engagement. The groom-to-be looked as if he’d just swallowed a canary.

  Sarah shook her head and laughed. Bradley Suttons. Along with every other person who lived within a fifty-mile radius, she’d followed the meteoric rise of Mill Town’s favorite son. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone that Bradley had moved clear across the country when he was thirteen and never once returned for a visit. Or that the house he’d lived in as a child had sat vacant all these years. The good citizens of the town and surrounding areas had claimed him as their own, and that was that.

  And now, he was engaged to be married to Catherine Mann, America’s sweetheart. Talk about power couples. Their union was sure to top all the Who’s Who lists from Nashville to Hollywood, and everywhere in between.

  “Well, congratulations, Brad-Bird.” Sarah smiled.

  A noise from the other end of the house interrupted before she’d finished doctoring her coffee with cream and sugar. She glanced down the hallway that ran as straight as a shotgun from the back door to the front of the house. A familiar figure stood on the wide porch. Sarah noted the suit and tie the banker wore beneath his Stetson and sighed. She’d hoped to put off the inevitable just a little while longer, but it looked like the day she’d been dreading had arrived. Forcing a cheery note into her voice, she called, “Mornin’ James.”

  “Mornin’.” Without waiting for an invitation, James let himself in.

  “What brings you out here so early?” Sarah took a steadying breath and prepared for the worst. She’d known she couldn’t dodge the banker forever. In a place the size of Mill Town, there really wasn’t anywhere to hide.

  “Well, I had to come out here to see you since you won’t answer any of my phone calls or emails.” His boot heels rattling against the hardwood floors, James swept the wide-brimmed hat from his head and ran a hand over his sparse hair.

  Sarah propped one hand on the kitchen table and leaned on it for support. She was pretty sure she was going to need it. Still, it wouldn’t do to let the banker see her sweat. Not quite sure how she did it, she managed a teasing smile. “Well, I don’t got time for phone calls and emails. I got a ranch to run.” Hoping she’d guessed wrong about her visitor’s intentions, she asked, “How’s your mama?”

  “She’s…she’s real good.” His expression far too serious for a social call, James moved closer.

  “She get those garden roses I sent over?” It really was a shame that her boarding stables didn’t produce revenue as well as her flowers did. When it came to those, she was known throughout the county for her green thumb. She grabbed the remote control and turned down the volume on the television set.

  “She did, and I thank you.” James rocked his hat back and forth, talking with his Stetson like people back East spoke with their hands.

  “She is such a sweet lady.” Uncertain how much longer she could stall, Sarah sipped from her mug. “James, you want some coffee?”

  “I’d love a half a cup of coffee.” James parked his hat on the kitchen table. He rubbed one finger down his equine nose and straightened the strings of his bolo tie. “But you need to quit changing the subject, ‘cause we need to talk about your finances.”

  Sarah heard the frustration in his voice. It pained her to put her friend in such an awkward spot, but what else was she supposed to do?

  She’d grown up in this house. She knew every creaking floorboard. She knew the way to twist the handle in the shower to coax the most hot water from the ancient boiler, and that she could cool the entire house by propping open the front and back doors on a summer’s evening.

  Still, even though the ranch had been in her family for generations, she could’ve walked away from it if she only had herself to think about. But there was far more to it than that. If she lost the ranch, what would become of the horses she cared for? Of the dogs she’d rescued and who now served as her surrogate family? Who would tend to the gardens that provided flowers for weddings and funerals and high school proms and, yes, brought such joy to people like James’s mother?

  She couldn’t lose the ranch. She just couldn’t. The ugly fact was, though, she didn’t have the money to pay off all her debts.

  Hoping to stall, she resorted to the one thing that had worked so far—she hedged. “Now, my mama told me never to talk about politics or money in mixed company,” she said as she poured James’s coffee and topped off her own cup.

  “There’s no getting around this, Sarah.” James held out his empty palms. “I’m going to have to foreclose on you and sell off this ranch if you can’t find a way to make the mortgage payments. If it were up to me—”

  “It is up to you, Jimmy.” With more firmness than she’d intended, she handed him his cup. “You’re the president of Mill Town Bank.”

  James’s voice rose in protest. “I don’t own the bank, Sarah.”

  Her shoulders slumped. As desperate as she was to hold on to the ranch, she wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t put her childhood friends in an awkward position.

  One final chance existed to salvage her situation. She crossed her fingers. “I’m just waiting to hear if I got this grant from the Equine Rehabilitation Fund.” With the money from the foundation, she’d be able to bring her mortgage up to date and buy enough feed and hay to see her stock through the winter. Without it, though… She stopped her train of thought. She had to get that grant. She had to.

  James’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “I’ve given you six months more than I have any right to, and now I have no choice.”

  Sarah stared at the floor. She’d exhausted all her other options. The Equine Rehabilitation Fund was her last hope. They’d already had her application for far too long, but any day now, they had to approve her request and send the money she needed. She lifted her head and looked James in the eye. “One month,” she pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  A long minute stretched out while she held her breath and prayed. At last, the bank president held up a finger. “One month, Sarah. That takes us to June first.”

  Deliberately, she straightened her shoulders. James was going pretty far out on a weak limb to give her this last chance to balance her accounts. She had to make sure he didn’t regret it. “I will tell you what,” she began. “If I don’t have the money by June first, I will walk into your of
fice, I will shake your hand, and I will sign this ranch over to you.”

  “Well, that’s—that’s fair.” To free up his right hand, James shifted his coffee mug into his left.

  Sarah took the hand he extended and gave it a firm shake. “You need me to sign something?”

  James lifted the hand she’d just shaken. “You just did.”

  Sarah hefted her mug. A warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee she swigged spread through her midsection. Despite all her financial woes, returning to Mill Town after graduation had been the right decision. Where else would the president of the bank do business on a handshake?

  The reason for his visit concluded, James pointed over her shoulder to the television where the morning talk show had continued. “That guy grew up here,” he announced.

  Sarah took a second to swallow her coffee. “Bradley Suttons.” She nodded. “He used to live next door. Moved away when he was about thirteen. But I believe he still owns the house.”

  “I remember.” Sympathy tugged at the corners of James’s lips. “His parents were killed in that car accident over in Greenbrier.”

  “Yep.” Propping her elbow on the arm she’d folded across her chest, she tipped her coffee cup toward the screen. She’d never known there was such sadness in the world before the day that word of the Suttons’ deaths spread through the town. But, as bad as their loss had been for her, it had been so much worse for the boy next door. One minute, her best friend had been a normal kid growing up in a small town with his whole future laid out for him. The next, everything he’d ever known—his parents, his home, his friends—had been stripped away from him.

  “He must be about the most famous resident to ever come out of Mill Town.” James lifted one eyebrow. “I guess you knew him pretty well?”

  “Knew him?” She took a long swallow from her mug. “I was married to him.”

  Later that evening, she still chuckled at the mix of confusion and surprise that had filled James’s face when she’d announced her marriage to Bradley Suttons. Only three people knew of the ceremony that had taken place in her parents’ barn that day. She’d never spoken of it. She was pretty sure none of the others had, either. They’d only been thirteen, after all. And anyway, a mere twenty-four hours later, Bradley’s aunt and uncle had whisked him off to Nashville to start his new life.