Her Unexpected Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “True,” said Rory. “Brian’s website says their shop is open until five, so I’m going to take a quick ride out there and check things out, okay? Then I’ll work on the graphic when I get back. If all goes well, we should have them ordered and the labels ready before the night’s over.”

  “Without drama,” noted Emily.

  Rory made a face of disbelief. “Weddings and drama go hand in hand. One of the many reasons I’m not a fan of the industry. Crazy begets crazy. Give me a simpler world, every time.”

  Corinne didn’t disagree. “Four women, one wedding. Oh, Em, darling...drama just goes with the territory.”

  Grant called her Em, too.

  And he said it in a tone like they were close friends. Or sweethearts.

  Her phone buzzed with a text. It was Grant, sending her a picture of the twins, playing side by side, both standing.

  She laughed, and Corinne peeked over her shoulder. “Oh, they’re adorable! Are those Grant McCarthy’s kids?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, I could just smooch them to pieces,” Rory exclaimed as she grabbed up her purse to go. “What a pair of sweethearts.”

  “They are,” she agreed. “Beyond special. And different as night and day.”

  “Oh, really?” Corinne exchanged amused looks with Rory, and Emily raised a hand to stave off their speculation.

  “All kids are delightful.”

  “Grant’s kind of cute himself,” Corinne noted. “Of course, you probably haven’t noticed that.”

  “I can’t stop noticing that,” Emily mumbled. “Which is ridiculous. Right?”

  “Or amazingly perfect in God’s eyes,” Rory told her. “I’m leaving, and we put the lid on drama, remember?”

  “This isn’t drama, this is romance,” Corinne said. “You go. I’ll live vicariously through Emily’s romance with Grant.”

  “There is no romance,” Emily insisted. And even if she wanted there to be, it couldn’t happen. It was tough enough to prove herself in the world of wedding planning. None of it came naturally to her. And Kate & Company would be her sister’s gig, once life settled down.

  It was easy to love the town of Grace Haven. Not just because she’d grown up here, but because it was a great place to live.

  You need a job. You loved your work at Barrister’s. Don’t sell yourself short.

  She was in danger of doing exactly that, like a young bird coming back to the nest.

  She couldn’t let comfort dictate her choices. Hadn’t she just told Grant the same thing about Dolly? She’d have to chart her own course and try not to mess up too much in the meantime.

  Chapter Seven

  A steady snowfall blanketed the town in the wee hours before Kimberly’s wedding. Pure and pristine, the gentle coating whitewashed every outdoor nook and cranny. Cold, but not too cold, and not a breath of wind stirred the snow outlining tree branches, fencing and rooflines. In the space of a few hours, Grace Haven had become a winter paradise and a photographer’s dream.

  Drew’s eleven-year-old daughter, Amy, began the happy church procession, followed by Rory and Emily. Their mother, Kate, smiled from her front-row pew, dabbed tears, then smiled again. When Kimberly appeared in the doorway, she smiled up at her dad, then shifted that smile to her beloved groom. The guests uttered a collective sigh.

  This was you, nearly four years ago. What happened?

  Emily had no answers, only more questions. As Kimberly took her place beside Drew, her love and longing mirrored his. They exchanged a look of sweet devotion.

  Emily’s heart pinched tight, even as she smiled, glad for her sister’s happiness.

  She’d wanted that, maybe too much. The lure of being a rich man’s wife, the mistress of a beautiful country estate... She’d been wooed as much by prestige as romance. And the fact that she’d one-upped her sister had ranked high on her radar back then. The realization embarrassed her.

  When she followed the wedding party back down the aisle, Kimberly hugged her right off. “Thank you. You made this all come together and kept me from being a total wreck. I love you, Emily.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time her sister had used those words. She hugged her back and repeated the phrase. “I love you, too. And you are an absolutely wonderful, beautiful, radiant bride.”

  Tears glistened in Kimberly’s eyes. “Knock it off,” Emily ordered. “If you ruin that mascara, I’ll—” Emily couldn’t possibly think of an appropriate threat so she smiled, instead. “I’ll fix it, of course.”

  They did a quick winter-scene photography session before they arrived at the reception site, and who was waiting there when the limousine dropped off the small wedding party?

  Grant, with Timmy and Dolly.

  “You came!” She shouldn’t be this excited to see them, but she was. She hurried across the foyer, then bent and hugged each of the kids. “I can’t believe you braved it, Grant.”

  “Tillie helped.” He looked downright nervous as people began streaming in. “If they get too crazy, I can take them home, Em.”

  “With over a hundred adults here, I expect we can keep them amused.”

  “Grant.” Kate Gallagher crossed the room and grasped his hands. “I’m so glad you could come and delighted to have these two with us! Pete, do you see who’s here?”

  Emily’s dad crossed the floor more slowly than he used to. “Grant. You clean up nice.”

  “As do you, sir.”

  “Which table are you at? I’d enjoy having you at ours.”

  “He’s at mine, Dad.” Emily ruffled Tim’s hair as she straightened.

  Her father turned, and the look he leveled on her, then Grant, assessed the situation. “I see. And I heard that our little Dolly is walking. Is this true?” He bent low to look into Dolly’s sweet face.

  She squeezed against her father’s leg, but smiled at him.

  “Thanks to Emily.” Grant’s tone expressed the depth of his gratitude. “I was playing the part of the overprotective father and she called me on it.” The look he gave her, as if she’d done something wonderful, made her want to do more wonderful things. “Before you knew it, Dolly was walking.”

  “I tricked her into it.” Emily winked at her dad. “I took a page out of your playbook, Dad.”

  Pete put an arm around her shoulders in a hug that wasn’t as strong as it used to be. Everything she’d read said this was normal with his course of treatment. Emily prayed the information was correct. “That’s my girl.”

  Dolly moved from Grant’s pant leg to Emily’s gown. “Bees?” She lifted her arms to Emily, asking to be picked up.

  Grant reached down to extricate her. “Em’s all dressed up. We don’t want to get stuff on her dress, Doll-face.”

  Emily lifted the little girl and held her close. “I’m pretty sure this dress will never be hauled out of the closet again, the majority of pictures are done and I’ve got a few moments of freedom. Considering all that, Dolly and I are going to have this dance.” She swooped and turned with the toddler, dipping her, moving in time with the music.

  Dolly laughed. She laughed loud and long, clapping her hands, delighted with her new friend.

  And Emily felt the same way about her and Timmy.

  * * *

  Beautiful together.

  Emily in her long black gown and Dolly in her pink smocked dress.

  Mixed emotions rocked Grant. Emily seemed so comfortable with the little girl. So natural.

  That should make him happy, and it did, but the thought of Serenity making the opposite choice still burned. He’d married a beautiful woman who turned her back on them because she didn’t want to deal with motherhood and Dolly’s limitations.

  Anger gnawed at him. He should be a bigger man. Shove it aside, cast it away
.

  He couldn’t. Having his ex-wife walk away from her family didn’t just break his heart. It made him mad, because they were given an amazing opportunity to love two children.

  And she still walked away.

  Tim grabbed his pant leg and pulled him forward as the DJ put on a faster song. “Timmy dance!”

  Tim rocked it with Grant. He laughed, marching and dancing with awkward feet, having the time of his life. And when the music slowed for the next song, Corinne took Timmy and Rory scooped up Dolly.

  Which left him and Emily, three feet apart and no toddlers to distract them. He opened his arms and took a step forward. “May I have this dance, Em?”

  She breathed deep, holding his gaze, and for a moment he thought she might say no, but then she stepped into his arms and put her hand in his.

  Spiced vanilla with a hint of berry. She smelled absolutely wonderful, and to have her in his arms, moving gently to the music, made him think it would be wonderful to have her in his arms all the time. It felt right. It felt good. Holding her, moving with her, touched his heart in a way he’d forgotten, long ago. She made the children laugh, made them learn and made him want to be a better man, a better person.

  She’s leaving, remember? She made that clear.

  But what if she had reason to stay, he wondered. What if being with him and the twins was enough of a reason to stay?

  He didn’t want the song to end, but it did, and Emily was called away to do maid of honor chores. By the time the twins had eaten a few bites of dinner, it was time for Grant to take them home.

  He caught up to Emily as Kimberly and Drew were cutting the cake. “We’re approaching meltdown time,” he whispered. Her quick smile said she understood. “Instinct tells me that’s better handled in a controlled environment.”

  She laughed and grabbed her cape from the coat rack. “I’ll help you get them in the car.”

  “No, Em. It’s cold. It’s—”

  “Thank you, Em. That’s very nice of you.” She held his attention until he caved.

  “I do thank you. And it is nice of you.”

  “I know.” She shot him a smile over her shoulder. When the cold outside air hit them, she bundled Timmy against her shoulder and hurried to the car.

  “Your shoes are going to be wet.”

  “Not the first time that’s happened. Won’t be the last.” She tucked Timmy into his car seat and buckled the harness into place while Grant did the same thing for Dolly. “It was a beautiful wedding,” she noted as she swept Timmy’s cheek with butterfly kisses. He laughed up at her, clearly delighted. So was Grant. “Everything came off without a hitch. I’m happy and tired.”

  “You did great.”

  She shrugged off the compliment. “Kimberly’s plans—I just implemented them. But it went well, and that’s what counts.”

  “Will I see you before the appointment at the bridal salon?”

  She shook her head. “Mom and Dad are only here until Monday. Dad’s due back in Houston for the next treatment, and they won’t be coming back for the holidays. I want to spend as much time with them as I can.”

  “Then I’ll see you Tuesday. Thanks for spending time with us, Em.”

  She looked up as he rounded the car.

  Those eyes, bright and brown, full of life. Her hair, a tumble of auburn, half tamed by the hairdresser, half wild and free. Snowflakes sifted gently, here and there, dusting her shoulders, her hair.

  She met his gaze, and for the life of him he couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to look away.

  “Emily? They’re going to throw the bouquet!” Two young Gallagher cousins hung out the door of the inn, waving to get her attention.

  He smiled and lifted his hand to graze her cheek lightly. “Next time.” He dropped his gaze to her lips, then sighed, smiling.

  “You think so?” She grinned up at him, teasing, and right then Grant was pretty sure he could enjoy a lifetime of that teasing.

  “Let’s just say...” He cradled her cool cheek with one big hand and held her gaze. “I hope so, Em. I dearly hope so.”

  Her eyes went wide. She swallowed hard.

  So did he.

  She turned and hurried inside, but when she got to the top step, she turned and waved.

  Seeing her framed in the doorway of the rustic country inn was one of the prettiest sights he’d ever seen. Her long black gown, fitted just so, the glorious auburn hair, the dark green cloak, the clutch of flowers in her hair.

  Breathtaking.

  He had no trouble understanding the pageant wins, not at this moment, because Grant McCarthy was 100 percent sure he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. What worried him most was that he saw that as more of a negative than a positive.

  What kind of man thought like that?

  The kind that had watched beauty slam the door on him before.

  * * *

  Three small suitcases lined the back entry when Emily came downstairs Monday morning. “You’re all set, then?” She reached out and hugged her mother, then her father.

  “Yes, and Corinne’s pulling in right now. What a wonderful time we had, being home.” Her mother hugged her again, then Rory. “You girls did an amazing job on that wedding. Your father and I were so impressed.”

  “And Kimberly didn’t go ballistic, so we count that as a win,” Rory teased. She hugged their dad, then pseudo scolded him. “You focus on getting well. We’ve got this all under control here.”

  “I see that. I’m actually feeling a little useless.” He smiled and hugged each of them in turn. “You guys are doing a great job, and that’s a big relief. Heaven only knows what I’d be doing if my wife was worrying over her business.”

  Kate scolded him with a look.

  Pete laughed and shrugged an arm around her. “You girls are keeping your mother sane, and that’s the best get-well gift a man could want. We’ll keep you posted, but so far, so good, and that’s the answer we’re looking for.”

  They left, talking, then laughing together, as if facing life and death wasn’t taking a toll.

  “That’s the kind of faith-filled marriage I’d love to have someday.” Rory spoke softly, watching them go to the car.

  Realization hit Emily.

  Her parents’ marriage wasn’t strong because they’d both had good jobs, great careers and lived in a sweet, small town. It was strong because they put God first, always. They believed and then tried to live their beliefs every single day.

  The Barristers weren’t churchgoing people. She’d shrugged that off as nonessential when she’d accepted Christopher’s proposal—a foolish mistake. Seeing her parents cleared up that glass darkly the Bible talked about. Faith wasn’t something a married couple conveniently grabbed off the shelf as needed.

  Faith was lived.

  An image of Grant and those two kids came to mind. He didn’t take them to church, nor did he go himself. He didn’t profess faith or belief.

  He’d mocked himself for his past “upscale” life, a mistake she’d made, too. She’d been shallow and put prestige first. Had they both learned their lesson?

  Maybe. But the faith question didn’t just niggle her, it grabbed hold. She’d messed up once, and she didn’t want to repeat her mistake. She liked Grant a lot. This wasn’t a schoolgirl crush. When she was with Grant and those kids, it was all-out attraction, seeing a future laid out before them.

  But she needed to take the rose-colored glasses off and toss them away because she’d been blinded by attraction before. Now she needed something deeper, something rooted in faith, hope and love. She was pretty sure Grant McCarthy wasn’t ready to give that.

  * * *

  Dolly was walking everywhere.

  Grant couldn’t believe the difference ten days made. Great
er mobility changed her attitude, making her a happier child. Mrs. Flanagan, the occupational therapist and Emily had all told him to push her forward. He hadn’t, and he’d stunted her potential. Watching how quickly her motor skills progressed was inspiring. But now that she was more mobile, danger lurked everywhere.

  Climbing. Getting down after climbing. Exploring. Wandering off. Her world got bigger and his job got harder, but the joy on her sweet face made it all worthwhile.

  He needed to thank Emily for that final push. He could bring flowers to Caroline’s bridal shop, but what if he embarrassed her? She’d had a crazy week with her sister’s wedding. He wanted to be sensitive to that, and being sensitive was probably a habit he should develop.

  He called Chloe’s Floral Designs on Monday and ordered flowers delivered instead, with a picture of Dolly half walking, half running across their backyard in the first light snow. Arms out, joy radiated from his beautiful child, despite her limitations. And who could say what Dolly might be able to achieve? No one knew for sure, so he needed to get on the bandwagon to cheer her on. If only his foolish heart didn’t clench with every stumble, every fall.

  “You made a difference, not just now...” he wrote on the card “...but for a long time to come. Look what you started! In deepest appreciation, Grant.”

  He tucked the photo into the card and handed it to Chloe to be delivered with the bouquet. He used to send flowers to his mother several times a year. Thanking her made him feel good. She’d put her kids first, and Grant had appreciated that.

  He missed her, still. Planning Christa’s wedding wasn’t just a gift for Christa, it was a salute to one of the strongest women he’d ever known, Dolores McCarthy. He got back to the office Monday afternoon just in time to answer the phone. “Grace Haven Highway, Grant speaking.”

  “You never answer your own phone.” Emily’s voice greeted him, light and friendly. He sank into his chair, instantly more relaxed.

  “I would if I knew it was you calling.”

  “Aww.” He’d surprised her. Good. “I just got the flowers, Grant. Thank you.”