“Quite a production, sweetheart. Somewhat smaller than a Broadway show, but considerably more elaborate than a county fair.” Jeff was waiting for her at the edge of the dance floor. A few people lingered over a final drink or cup of coffee. The country band was playing a subdued version of the old Elvis hit “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.”
“Every wedding is something of a production, but it’s so wonderful when all the elements come together. This one really was fun.”
“Fun? With Shelby falling apart over her bridesmaids and you having to put two different themes together and making them work? Not to mention the half-dozen or so other extravaganzas you were coordinating. That’s your idea of fun?” Jeff sounded dubious.
“It was, because Candace and Shelby had great ideas individually, and they were willing to listen to advice, so it was fun to see if I could pull them together.”
Jeff shrugged. “Sounds like a quick way to develop ulcers.” He held out his hand. “I’m the host of this event, and I had exactly one dance with each of my girls. Come dance with me, Cinda, so I can at least say I shared a little of the party.”
She started to shake her head and walk away. So many things still needed her attention. Then she caught the disappointment shadowing his eyes. “Okay, one dance, though I’m not dressed for gliding over a dance floor.”
He took her in his arms and moved to the darker corner of the floor. “No, I noticed you’re in uniform tonight, black suit and sensible pumps. But you’re beautiful in anything. Or nothing,” he added, sotto voce.
He danced well, with a good lead and an excellent sense of rhythm. If they had been anywhere else, or it had been any other time, Lucinda knew this dance would have only one result. It might start on the dance floor, but it would have ended in bed. And if he held her in his arms much longer, she wasn’t certain this night wouldn’t end there anyway.
“Jeff, I have to get back to work. And you have guests who are getting ready to leave and want to say goodnight to you.”
“Duty calls, sweetheart, but I’ll see you right here as soon as you can finish and I can get the last drink out of the hands of the last guest.”
The crew was more efficient than usual, Lucinda decided, as the signs of the party disappeared from the landscape in record time, packed away in bags and boxes, stowed in trucks and vans, until the next celebration called for some special thing. The musicians had gone, the tent came down, the servers reclaimed glassware and stray forks, and the florist’s van bulged with returning pottery, arches, and pedestals. Lucinda watched the last truck pull away and sank down on the edge of the fountain to catch her breath.
“Last load?” Jeff sat down beside her. He’d shed his tuxedo jacket and tie and unfastened the neck of his shirt. He looked as if he’d gladly said farewell to the lingering guests.
She nodded. “The very last one.”
“Good. Now I can have your full attention.”
Lucinda sighed. She really was too weary to go see Jeff’s wonderful house tonight, much as she longed to find out how it looked all finished and ready for Shelby and Jerry when they returned from their wedding trip. “Jeff, honest, I just need to go home. It’s been such a long day.”
The regret in his face was clear, even in the moonlight. “I know, Cinda. I shouldn’t have asked. You’ve put in ghastly hours over this thing for my kids. It’s not fair of me to keep you out any longer. I’m sorry. We’ll do it later, in a day or two, when you feel less like a wet rag. Okay?”
She wanted to say later would be better; she actually intended to. Something stopped her. She couldn’t let him down, and how long could it take. Fifteen minutes? She could manage that.
“No, you want to show me the farmhouse, don’t you? And it’s just up the road, on the way home, actually.” She pulled herself to her feet. “Let’s just run by for a minute. I’ll bet it’s perfectly adorable with the moonlight spilling over it.”
“You’re sure, Cinda? I mean, I know you’re worn out, but it is just a couple of minutes from here.”
He’s as excited as a kid with his first bike. “I can manage a small side trip, Jeff. And I do want to see what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thanks, Cinda. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” Hand in hand they walked back up the path to the parking lot. One of the limousines that had brought the wedding party to the park was still waiting. “I came with the girls, so I don’t have my car. I asked the limo driver to wait for us.”
Lucinda almost cringed at the expense of his whim, but she had to admit it was a practical solution to the situation. Otherwise Jeff would have had to bring his car up earlier and leave it, getting someone to drive him back to the hotel where the girls were staying. “I never get to ride in a limousine, Jeff. I book them all the time, but it’s always for someone else. This is a treat.”
“Well, madame, your chariot is waiting.” Jeff raised a hand to the driver, who stepped forward to open the door. “Please make yourself comfortable.” Lucinda slipped into the plush seat and closed her eyes, letting the elegance surround her.
“The previous occupant left the wine. It’s a shame to let it sit here unappreciated. Join me in a glass?”
Lucinda opened her eyes. “I think it would put me to sleep.”
“I promise to wake you up if it does.” Jeff pressed the glass into her hand. “And we’re not driving, so it’s safe to nod off, if you’re so inclined.”
She took a sip. The crisp chill of the chardonnay was wonderful after such a long day.
The car moved soundlessly across the parking lot and flowed over the highway. No other cars were on the road. It was too late even for partygoers to be out; it was almost time for people to be getting up and starting a new day.
Jeff must have given the driver clear instructions, because he seemed to know exactly where he was going. The long car nearly filled the lane as it turned toward Jeff’s project. Lucinda wondered if he’d be building other homes on this pleasant hillside. She supposed he would, though it was so peaceful she hated to think of the woods cut down so houses could fill the landscape.
“We’re here, sweetheart. Come look at my pretty toy.” Lucinda shook herself awake and put the empty wine glass on the foldout tray in front of her.
With Jeff’s help, she managed to push herself out of the deep seat and stand beside him on the newly paved driveway. “It’s too dark, Jeff. I can’t see a thing, not even the porch rail. I’ll never find my way up the drive this time of night.”
“I’ll get you there, just like last time.” Before she could reply, Jeff had swept her up in his arms and started for the house. She couldn’t imagine how he could be so sure-footed in the inky blackness. Even the moon had gone to bed. Still, he managed, and Lucinda found herself deposited on the wooden steps, her hand guided to the tall cornerpost of the porch.
“Stay right there, sweetheart, till I get a light on.”
Lucinda didn’t dare move. She couldn’t remember how many steps led up to the porch or how wide it was. Ahead of her she heard Jeff cross the wooden floor, turn a key, and open a door. In a moment, a mellow light spilled across the planks, giving her a path to follow.
Jeff took her hand. “This way, Lucinda. Come in and tell me if I’ve done it right.”
She had a sudden reluctance to follow him. She’d dreamed of coming home to a house like this. It was a private fantasy, one she couldn’t hope to make real. Jeff had built the house of her dreams, built it for Shelby, and suddenly Lucinda wasn’t sure she could walk through that door and see her fancy take form, only to have someone else live in it.
“Lucinda? You’re coming in, aren’t you?”
Don’t be such a goose. Jeff wants to show off his masterpiece. Don’t disappoint him, not when he’s just sent both of his daughters off with their new husbands and is probably feeling all alone in the world. Lucinda marched up the steps and, if it took everything in her to do it, she was determined not to let her reluctance show.
“The foyer, Miss Parks. I think it’s inviting.”
Touching the cool walls, taking in the beautifully polished heart-of-pine floor, Lucinda thought “inviting” was a weak description. “It’s perfect, Jeff. Bright and warm and homey.”
He draped one arm over her shoulders and guided her to the dining room. “You can’t see the view through the bay window, but it’s better than an Old Master for scenic glory.”
“I remember from when I was here before. The window frames the view like a magnificent painting.”
“And the color? Butter yellow? Does that work all right for a dining room?”
“It’s the color I thought would be so pretty in the kitchen, isn’t it?”
Jeff chuckled. “It is, but I liked the way it worked in the kitchen so much I used it all over the first floor.” Room by room he led her though the house. The screened-in porch with its night sounds of crickets and cicadas filled her with peaceful tranquility. The kitchen and great room seemed to promise happy times with good friends.
“Now, you didn’t get to see upstairs when you were here before, because it wasn’t ready. Come look.” With his hand on her waist and his enthusiasm lighting his eyes, Lucinda didn’t even think of refusing. The stairs led up to a landing with bedrooms opening off it. “The master suite is just a jewel, I think.” He slid back a pocket door to reveal the graceful room with its own fireplace. “The dormers look down over the river running behind the property. Makes a beautiful morning view. And the master bath has huge closets and all the amenities—walk-in shower, hot tub, all those little touches.”
Lucinda looked where he led, marveled at his work, and longed to escape. It was perfect, so lovely, already wearing all the details that said “home,” and she could barely stand it. Jeff stood there, showing her all his personal improvements, full of pride in what he’d created. Though she wanted to run, she couldn’t get away.
“It’s glorious, Jeff. It really is. There’s not one thing that isn’t exactly right. It’s a dream house brought to reality. You have every reason to be proud of what you did here.”
“Really, Lucinda? You like it so much?”
“Jeff, the woman who lives here is going to love every inch of it.”
That one-sided smile slowly lit his face. “Will she? I built it for a pretty special woman, and I hope she’ll find it the home she’s always wanted.”
Lucinda walked the length of the bedroom and looked down at the night-covered hills beyond the windows. “Shelby is going to be very happy with it, Jeff. I don’t know how long it will be before she and Jerry actually live here fulltime. With both of them so involved in rodeo life, it may be a while, but in time they’ll want kids and a stable home.”
She hadn’t realized he’d crossed the room with her until his hands rested on her shoulders. He turned her to face him. “Shelby? You think I built this house for Shelby and Jerry?” There was a hint of outrage as well as laughter in his tone.
“It’s not Candace’s kind of place; she’s more of a city-dwelling condo type, Jeff. Don’t tell me you built it for her?”
“Does willful blindness run in your family, sweetheart?” Jeff’s kiss was sudden and hard. “I didn’t build this house for either of the girls. Hell, when they decide where they want to live, I’ll build them anything they want. This house? Well, now, Cinda, I’ve waited a long time to build this house. Dreamed of it, planned it, drew it out a dozen times, tinkering with the details. Told myself one day I’d build it, when I found the right place to put it. About a year ago, I saw this hillside, and I knew it was the place, exactly the right place, for this house. Took months to buy the land, and even when I did, I had to buy the pieces around it so I could preserve the view. Still, I didn’t think I could break ground anytime soon. The girls had decided to get married, both of them, and I knew I was going to have all I could deal with over two weddings. But you know what happened. Instead of two weddings, it became a double wedding; I had to have some help. Along comes Miss Lucinda Parks, who can manage anything, plan any event, and appease all parties. And one evening she comes to my place, takes one look at the sketches on my wall, and instead of every elaborate, showy, upscale house I’ve designed, she all but swoons over an old- fashioned farmhouse. That house, of all the ones I’ve done, is the only house I ever wanted to build for myself. And then I know I have to build it. Not just for myself, though I certainly plan to live in it. I have to build it for the woman I’ve been waiting for. The lady who plans weddings for other people and has never planned her own. Who longs for a place to call home but lives in a place that’s just a closet, a bed, and a shower. No, sweetheart, I didn’t build this house for Candace or Shelby. They’re too young to know what they want. I built this house for the woman I love, the woman who, if I’m really lucky, is going to slip away and marry me in the next couple of weeks. You, Lucinda Parks. I built this as your home, yours and mine. A place where we can dream dreams and have hopes and share a life. Can we do it, my darling? Will you come home with me?”
“Jeff, I never thought…I mean, you and I…this house…”
“Did I finally catch you without a plan, Cinda?” His arms were safe, though confusion filled her mind. She leaned against him, her head heavy on his shoulder. Live here? Jeff and I could live here? Wake up every morning with him? Have him here when the days are too long and things fly apart and have to be fixed?
“Jeff Sinclair, am I losing my mind? Did you just…?”
“Ask you to marry me?” He took a step back. “I’m afraid I did. Is the idea so alarming? I rather thought you liked me a little. And I’m hopelessly in love with you. I told the girls I was going to do my best to make you part of the family, and they thought it was a grand idea. Do you think you might come around to our way of thinking?” The way his head tilted and that slow smile lit his face were irresistible, and she suspected he knew it. He drew her to him. “Lucinda, I love you. Can’t you love me just a little bit?”
She cupped his face between her hands and brushed her lips against his. “I told you I never, ever become involved with clients.” She looked at her watch. “It is, however, well past midnight. In fact, it’s coming up on sunrise shortly. So I suppose you’re no longer a client. Our business association has come to an end.”
Frustration wrinkled his forehead and narrowed his eyes. “Lucinda, are you or are you not going to marry me? I have children who want to know.”
“I think I loved you the first time you walked into my shop. You were so concerned about giving your girls the wedding they dreamed about. You would have done anything to keep from disappointing them. And I thought it was the most loving thing I ever saw a man do. And then, one night you took me in your arms and reminded me what it is to be a woman. Suddenly I found myself holding on to the time we were together, no matter what we were doing. And I had to fight with myself to stay the course and take care of business though the only moments that mattered were the ones with you. I tried to keep things light and businesslike, but at night you kept walking through my dreams. You and this house. Now you ask me to love you a little? Jeff, I can’t love you a little, when my whole life seems to revolve around the next time I see you or talk to you. And if your girls are expecting an answer, tell them yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. And they are expected to show up for the wedding. Not a big one, by the way. I’m taking the month off, and I wouldn’t plan a wedding in the next four weeks if the Princess Royal asked me to do it. But I’ll love you and build a life with you in this place, this home.”
His lips stopped her. Caught in his arms, carried along by the dreams he’d made real, Lucinda barely heard his words. “Just think, the wedding planner will be a bride and the house builder will have a home.”
“Sounds like the perfect solution. We have lots of plans to make, but I don’t think I’m capable of making much sense. Not tonight.”
“I can wait to hear your next plan, Miss Parks, but I know the perfect place to continue this discussion come morn
ing. A place you once said looked like a Babylonian bordello. Coming home with me, Cinda? Now?”
“Yes, Jeff, I’ll come home with you, even to a Babylonian bordello. I’ll come home to you forever.”
A word about the author...
A fifth generation Texan, Fleeta Cunningham drew on small town life when she created the Santa Rita Series. Recently she began a new historical series, Confronting Destiny. The first book in the series, Bal Masque, set in 1835 Louisiana, concerns an arranged marriage, a runaway bride, river pirates, hurricanes, and a heroine who defies the restrictions of her world.
After a career as a law librarian for a major Texas law firm, writing a monthly column for a professional newsletter and articles for other legal publications, Fleeta returned to her home in Central Texas to write full time. She has been writing in one form or another since the age of eight. When she isn't writing, she teaches creative writing classes and keeps house for her feline roommates.
Her other musings can be found at:
www.authorsbymoonlight.com
or her website:
www.fleetacunningham.com.
She loves to hear from readers.
The Santa Rita Series includes Don't Call Me Darlin', Black Rain Rising, Elopement for One, Half Past Mourning, and Cry Against the Wind. She has also authored Close Encounter with a Crumpet and Help Wanted: Wife, two short stories recently released by The Wild Rose Press, Inc. as well as Till the World Is Safe for Dreams in the Twelve Brides of Christmas series at The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
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