by Hope Ramsay
Whichever name Amy used, the wildflowers put on a heart-stopping show—the perfect backdrop for an outside wedding. Reverend Weston stood right in front of an arched trellis festooned with dozens of pink roses with Dusty right beside him, the sunlight turning his hair to gold. David stood beside the groom, and his sister, Heather, had just taken her place as the maid of honor. A small group of people—mostly family and friends—stood waiting for the bride to show her face.
A flute and harp duet struck up “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” and Courtney said, “It’s showtime.”
Amy stepped back from the door and turned toward Daddy, dressed in his dark pinstripe. “Are you ready to give me away?”
“No.” He scowled at her.
She rose up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. A sheen sparkled in his eyes behind the glare. “Don’t cry, okay?”
“I’ll try not to,” he said in a gruff voice, and then dashed a tear from his cheek. “I wish your mother had lived to see this. She would be so happy that you decided to wear her dress.”
Amy didn’t believe that for a minute. Mom would probably have insisted on buying some overpriced and over-the-top dress because Mom, bless her heart, had lived a shallow, dependent life.
Maybe Amy had invited bad luck by wearing Mom’s dress, but Amy had fallen in love with it the moment she saw it. Plus, since she and Mom were both little, the dress fit her without any alterations, saving lots of money. And all of her extra money, after paying for the reception, was earmarked for development of Shenandoah River Guides, the business Dusty had just incorporated.
Amy had learned that money couldn’t buy happiness or love, which was why this wedding had a shoestring budget. She made the best of her employee discount and the beautiful setting out here in the meadow. In fact, she couldn’t think of a more perfect place to marry Dusty McNeil, small-town boy, fisherman, and horticulturalist. A guy like that needed to be married outside, with nature all around him, in a simple ceremony without a lot of drama or expense. Dusty was a straightforward, kind man who lived in a tiny house, just large enough for two people and a dog. He didn’t do frills or extravagance. And Amy loved him for that.
She took her father’s arm. “Let’s do this thing.”
Courtney opened the chapel’s door, and Daddy helped her down the stairs and into the meadow. It was a short walk to her groom, who watched her with hungry blue eyes that made her whole body flush. She couldn’t wait until they were back in each other’s arms.
The minister pulled her from her naughty thoughts and asked the question “Who gives this woman?”
And Daddy, bless his heart, said, “I do.”
Laurie Wilson is devastated when she’s left
at the altar—until best man Andrew Lyndon
comes up with a plan to help her win back
her fiancé. But the plan soon falls apart
when Laurie realizes that Andrew
really is her best man…
A preview of Here Comes the Bride follows.
Chapter 1
If Laurie Wilson could have controlled the weather for her wedding, she would have. She had controlled, planned, organized, and directed every other aspect of her special day. So when it rained for a solid seven days before the ceremony, Laurie exhausted herself with worry.
She could have saved herself the angst because, when August twenty-sixth finally arrived, it dawned cloudless with an endlessly azure sky more like September than late summer. And in true silver-lining fashion, the rain had ended the deep August drought, leaving the asters, woodbine, and rudbeckia that grew in the meadow beside Laurel Chapel in full, glorious bloom.
The day was as perfect as her dream.
So was her wedding dress.
She stood in the tiny room at the back of the chapel staring into a full-length mirror. The stunning reflection revealed the woman who was about to become Mrs. Brandon Kopp. Alençon lace dripped from her gown’s bodice while the Swarovski crystals along the sweetheart neckline sent colorful sparks of light up the walls and ceiling. Laurie pressed her hands down into the yards of netting in the skirt, feeling giddy.
“You look gorgeous, princess,” Dad said from behind her, a tremor in his voice.
For the first time in her life, Dad’s pet name actually fit. The A-line ball gown was princess-worthy, and her thick, unruly tresses had been braided into a crown that now bristled with baby’s breath like a living tiara.
She turned around to find Dad with his hands jammed in the pockets of his dark gray suit, his dahlia boutonniere slightly askew. She stepped up to him and fixed the flower. “There,” she said, the butterflies flitting around in her core.
He captured her hand and gave it a little kiss. “I can’t believe my little princess is getting married,” he said, a sheen in his eyes. “But I heartily approve of your groom.”
“I do too,” she said with grin. “And I’m happy the planning is finally over. I thought Mom and I would come to blows a few times over the last few months.”
The door opened, and Laurie’s bridesmaids invaded in a swirl of burgundy chiffon and laughter. Madison Atwood, Emma Raynerson, and Mindy Westbrook were dear friends from college, and Brandon’s sister, Roxanne, was the maid of honor.
“Courtney sent us to let you know that Brandon and the groomsmen are about to take their positions. It’s only a few more minutes,” Roxy said. “And I just wanted to tell you before the wedding toasts start that I’m so happy you’re going to be my sister-in-law. Brandon couldn’t have chosen any better.”
A wave of joy percolated through Laurie. “Thank you so much.” She gave Roxy a fierce hug. “Not just for saying that, but for holding my hand the last few months. All of you have been terrific, really. I know I can get a little OCD about things, and you all have been so supportive, especially when Mom started throwing her weight around.”
A tearful and slightly giggly group hug ensued, but it didn’t last long because Courtney Wallace, the main event coordinator for Eagle Hill Manor, opened the door and said, “It’s showtime, ladies…and gent.” The strains of Bach’s “Air”—played on organ and violin—floated in from the sanctuary. A little flutter of excitement gnawed at Laurie’s insides as her friends left the room, lined up in the chapel’s small vestibule, and one by one made their walk down the aisle.
She took Dad’s arm and looked up at him. He smiled and winked. “I love you, princess,” he said.
“I love you too,” she murmured as the music changed from the Bach to Pachelbel’s Canon in D. She’d had a huge argument with Mom about this music choice. Mom wanted the traditional “Bridal Chorus” from Wagner’s opera Lohengrin. But Laurie was a bit of an opera buff, and in her estimation, the wedding in Lohengrin wasn’t one she wanted to emulate. That wedding was never consummated, and the poor bride ends up dead at the end of the opera. So no “Bridal Chorus” for her. She regarded it as bad luck.
Without the opening fanfare of “Here Comes the Bride” to signal her arrival, the wedding guests didn’t rise to their feet very quickly. But they did eventually get the message that the bride had arrived. She gripped Dad’s arm and looked ahead to where Brandon waited, dressed in a dark gray suit with his curly dark hair falling over his forehead. He aimed his big blue eyes at her, and her heart beat a little faster.
They’d known each other for ten years, since freshman year at George Washington University. They had hooked up a time or two in college but not seriously until five years ago. Brandon was the love of a lifetime. The only man she’d ever slept with. Her heart swelled in her chest as she arrived at the altar without tripping on the train of her dress. Thank God. She could check that worry off her list of possible disasters.
She looked up into Brandon’s eyes. She’d imagined this moment thousands of time. His eyes would sparkle, maybe with unshed tears of joy. His mouth would curl at the corner and expose his adorable dimple. He’d wink…
Wait. She’d never imagined him frowning at her. What? Did he hate her d
ress? Was it too princessy? She knew it; she should have gone with the mermaid dress even though Mom hated it. Crap. The moment was spoiled forever.
The minister interrupted her inner rant. “Dearly beloved, we have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of—”
“Wait,” Brandon said.
“What?” The minister laid his finger down to mark his place in the Book of Common Prayer. Then he looked up at Brandon over the rims of his half-glasses.
The bodice of Laurie’s dress chose that moment to become a tourniquet, shutting off her air supply.
“What on earth are you doing?” Brandon’s father said from somewhere in the first pew on the groom’s side.
Brandon ignored his dad. He kept staring at Laurie with panic in his eyes. “Uh, Laurie, um…”
“How dare you!” This came from Mom in the pew on the opposite side. Like Brandon, Laurie tried to ignore her mother while simultaneously trying to breathe.
“I can’t,” Brandon said.
“You can’t or you don’t want to?” Roxy asked. “Because, baby bro, there is a big difference.”
“I…Well, neither of those, actually.”
“What?” Laurie finally managed to push out the word and suck in a gulp of air.
Brandon took her by the hand, and the touch sent ice up her arm. She wanted to pull away from him, but she was frozen in place. “Look, Laurie, you’re more or less the only girl I ever dated.”
“So?” someone asked. Laurie wasn’t sure, but maybe it was Andrew Lyndon, the best man.
“I just don’t think either of us is ready for this. I mean, we don’t have enough experience.”
“What?” That was definitely Mom’s voice. “You’re twenty-eight years old, for goodness’ sake. You’re not a couple of teenagers.”
“Is there someone else?” She could only whisper the words as the foundations of her world crumbled.
His eyes widened. “No, never. I swear, Laurie, I have never cheated on you. But I think we need a break. I think we just got on the wedding carousel and…” He stabbed a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he said under his breath as he turned away.
“If there’s no one else, then—”
“I just want a break, okay? Like six months. We can see other people, and after that time we can decide. You know, like a trial separation.”
“For crap sake, how can you have a separation if you’re not even married?” Mom asked.
“Susan, sit down and stay out of it. Let them discuss it,” Laurie heard her father say in his best Solomon-the-wise judge voice. She glanced at him, still standing there waiting to give her away. His face had gone pale and grave. He turned toward Brandon. “What is it you want, son?”
“I just need time. You know, to make sure this isn’t a mistake.” And then he gave Laurie a sweet, sad smile and said, “And you need time too, Laurie. I think it would be good if you saw other people. Really. And then we could decide.”
“Are you crazy? I love you. I don’t want to see other people.”
He shook his head. “I’m really sorry. I know you spent a lot of time and money planning all this.” He took a step back and then turned and strode down the aisle and out of the chapel. His father, who was still standing, climbed over a couple of wedding guests and hit the aisle at a dead run. Laurie hoped the old guy didn’t give himself a heart attack chasing after his son.
Roxy must have had the same thought, because she dropped her bouquet and tore after Mr. Kopp, saying, “Daddy, don’t kill yourself. He’s not worth it.”
Dad glanced at Mom and snarled something obscene while the wedding guests went ominously silent, except for Mom, who collapsed in the front pew, openly weeping and maybe even wailing a little.
Someone grabbed Laurie by the hand. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
She looked up. Andrew Lyndon, the best man. Funny how he’d stayed and Roxy had gone. He tugged her forward, and she followed down the aisle like a confused puppy. Behind her, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen followed in a disorderly retreat, and all Laurie could think about was that the musicians were supposed to play Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” during the recessional.
* * *
Andrew marched out of the chapel and down the path to the inn, his little sister, Amy, running ahead of him, clearing the way. Behind him, the remaining bridesmaids and groomsmen, including his brother, Edward, and cousins Matthew and Jason, followed like a formally clad flash mob.
They hurried across the lawn, into the inn, up the sweeping staircase, and arrived at the Churchill Suite, Eagle Hill Manor’s signature guest room and sitting room on the second floor. Amy, who worked as an assistant wedding planner at the inn, opened the door with her passkey.
“C’mon, boys, let’s go get some of the wine from the bar in the reception hall,” Amy said, snagging Andrew’s brother and cousins, who were also members of the wedding party. She looked up at Andrew and winked. “We’ll be back. In the meantime, you hold down the fort.”
His brothers, cousins, and sister escaped, leaving Andrew to guide the distraught bride into the room, which was cluttered with suitcases packed and ready for a five-day honeymoon in Bermuda.
He came to a stop on the Persian rug. Now what?
In his professional life, he’d mediated complicated disputes between litigants, but this situation had Humpty Dumpty written all over it. No one was going to put this back together.
He turned and allowed himself to look Laurie in the face for the first time. Her big, hazel eyes stared back oddly vacant. She might have been a wax statue, the way she stood stiff and unmoving without real expression. A beautiful wax statue, with her golden hair braided with flowers.
What kind of idiot walks away from a woman like this?
Before he could act, Madison, Emma, and Mindy closed ranks around Laurie and guided her to one of the wing chairs in the sitting room. She sank down into it, her big skirt billowing up around her.
“I think we should find Brandon’s Camaro and mess it up,” Emma said.
“Screw that. I want to kill him, not his car,” said Mindy.
“Can I castrate him first?” Madison asked.
“But I love him,” Laurie said in a watery voice as the first tear escaped the corner of her right eye.
“Oh, baby, don’t cry for that SOB,” Madison said, then hurried into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a big wad of tissues that she pressed into Laurie’s hand. Laurie accepted the tissues but did nothing to stanch the slow drip of tears. That controlled release of emotion wrenched Andrew’s heart more than sobs could have. She ought to be disconsolate. She ought to be angry.
His fury boiled down in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t felt rage like this since last spring when he’d gone after Amy’s husband in the mistaken belief that Dusty was taking advantage of his sister. He’d been dead wrong about Dusty, his new brother-in-law. And Dusty, a man with a very slow fuse, had taught Andrew that letting his emotions carry him away had not been the answer.
And yet a little piece of him wanted to strangle Brandon. How could he do something so outrageously hurtful? He felt an all-consuming compassion for Laurie. He knew what being dumped felt like. Val had walked out on him two years ago without any kind of warning. And he still hadn’t gotten over it.
The door banged opened, and in walked Matt and Jason with several bottles of champagne and a big bucket of ice. Amy trailed behind with a tray filled with champagne flutes.
“We lost Edward, but we nabbed some of the champagne that was reserved for the wedding toast. We figured, since it was already paid for, we—”
“Shut up, Matt,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes toward Laurie. “Just pour it. Don’t explain, okay?”
The champagne was opened, and a glass pressed into Laurie’s hand.
“Here’s to castrating and then murdering Brandon, but only after we destroy his car,” Mindy said, raising her glass.
The brides
maids chorused, “Here, here.”
Jason and Matt looked uncomfortable. Laurie just sat there.
“Uh, I don’t really feel like killing or castrating Brandon, and if you mess up his Camaro, he’s going to be really pissed,” Matt said, ever the socially insensitive one.
Everyone looked at him as if he’d just farted in church. But Matt held his ground. “Look, you guys, Brandon is a friend. He’s more than a friend, really, since we all grew up with him and Roxy. I love Brandon like he’s another cousin or something, you know? And I’m just saying that he should be praised for walking away if he wasn’t three hundred percent sure.”
“Get the hell out of here.” Mindy got right up into Matt’s face and almost pushed him out of the room. Thank God she’d done it; otherwise Andrew might have had to take care of putting Matt in his place, and that would have created a huge rift in the family.
“I think I’ll go too,” Jason said, leaving his untouched champagne glass on a side table.
“Uh-oh,” Amy said, looking up at Andrew. “This is going to get messy, isn’t it? Like a divorce. You should know that we didn’t exactly lose Edward. He said Laurie had enough support and someone should be thinking about Brandon.”
Amy was right in spades. For Andrew, negotiating those fissures and cracks would be doubly difficult because he was an associate at Wilson Kavanaugh, the law firm where Laurie’s father was a partner. In fact, Laurie had helped Andrew get his job with the prestigious firm. Their dispute-settlement practice was nationally known and respected. It was, in a word, Andrew’s dream job, and he’d spent the last few years busting his balls trying to make partner.
He downed his champagne and stepped across the room, sinking into the ottoman beside Laurie’s chair. “Laurie,” he said gently.
She looked up at him, her face marred by tear tracks. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her to weep and sob and yell, even though he knew from experience that none of those things would change the situation. But crying in public was probably not Laurie’s thing. It wasn’t his thing either. Like her, he tended to hold things inside.
