With barely a limp, she enjoyed the short walk into the family room without crutches. She eased herself onto the loveseat in the family room and took a sip of wine. None of them were big drinkers—Malin never touched anything alcoholic—but they had two bottles to celebrate with tonight. Pippa unstrapped the boot and slipped it off her leg, placing it on the table with a thunk. Mom had found her a thick, lacy knee-high stocking she’d wear underneath the brace to protect her skin tomorrow. For now, she had an athletic sock with black and gold stripes around the top, and a Boston Bruins logo woven into the calf. It was ugly, but Jack had given it to her for Christmas as a gag a few years ago. This was the first time she’d worn it.
Her cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. She glanced at the display and smiled. As she answered, she eyed the activity in the kitchen where her friends had clustered and were holding a whispered conversation. Lucy and Malin cast furtive glances Pip’s way, and she stuck her tongue out at them. “Hello, you.”
“How about you ditch your boyfriend and run away with me?”
“Leave him at the altar? I don’t think so. See, I love, love, love him very much and can’t imagine life without him. Plus, he really knows how to rock my world.”
Clay’s laughter boomed in her ear. “Aw, spitfire, you know you aren’t the only one whose world gets rocked. Is everyone still up there? I know we said we wouldn’t spend our last night as singles together, but there’s always phone sex.”
Pippa’s breath shortened and a tingling warmth sizzled through her, landing squarely between her legs. When they’d first started seeing each other, schedules, work demands, and the need to keep the relationship a secret from her kids, had resulted in Clay being creative. Heat flashed into her cheeks at the mention of it now. “Oh, Clay. It would look bad if I disappeared and left my guests alone to decorate my boot for me. Be patient, love. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. We have the rest of our lives.”
Silence rang through the phone, broken eventually by a quiet groan at his end. “I’m aroused just thinking about tomorrow night. In fact, my eyes might just have rolled back in my head.”
“Good to know I have the power.” She eyed her friends, who were still engaged in their whispered conversation. They were up to something. “Are the kids still up?”
“Nah. I put them to bed after hot chocolate and showers a little bit ago. They were worn out from sledding. Did you get the pictures I texted?”
“They were great. Thanks for sending them. Looks like I missed a good time.”
“God, I wish it were tomorrow.” His smooth low voice slid along her nerve endings, making her wish the same. “I doubt I’ll close my eyes tonight. I’m counting minutes now.”
“Me, too. Try to get a little sleep. I want you in top form at the ceremony tomorrow.”
“I will be. I love you, spitfire. I always will.”
“I love you too, Clay. You’re my world. Mine and the kids. I’ll be proud to be your wife.”
She disconnected and clutched the phone against her sternum, reveling in the glow of abiding love they shared. Four months ago, her heart had been encased in ice. A lonely future had stretched out for her, at least until the twins were college age and had moved out. She hadn’t crawled into the grave with Mark, but she had never dared to contemplate a new chance for love.
Until Clay. He’d crashed into her world and shattered the fortress she’d carefully constructed. He’d shown her how easy it was to love again. She’d fought it at first, but he wore her down, in his gruff way, revealing the sweet caring man he’d buried behind a prickly exterior. Life with him was never going to be predictable.
“Hey, there’s no crying at a bachelorette party,” Jem chided as she dropped onto the loveseat next to her. “Even tears of happiness. Strictly forbidden.”
Pip sniffed and brushed her hand across the trail of tears on her cheeks. She didn’t realize she’d been crying. Jem patted her hand as Sarah and Malin took seats on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. Lucy walked into the room pulling her coat on, her cell phone clutched in her right hand.
“You’re leaving?” Pippa asked.
“Brian called. Little B lost Big B’s house key. I have to go save the day.” Lucy scooted around the coffee table and bent to kiss Pip’s cheek. “I’m not going to try to make it back tonight. Big B will take me to the farm tomorrow in time for the pictures and the dressing of the bride. We might have to travel by Snow Cat, but I’ll be there. He’s been dying to use that bad boy since he found it on Ebay.”
Malin stood up and pointed at Pip. “You stay there. I’ll walk Lucy out.” She linked arms with Lucy and sauntered out of the room, whispering in the woman’s ear the whole way down the hall.
Oh, yeah. They were definitely up to something, but Pippa was content to roll with whatever surprise they had planned. “Who’s ready to decorate my boot? And didn’t someone mention presents?”
9
“Aw, Jesus. Eighteen inches on the ground and it’s still coming down. Son of a—” Clay frowned and bit off the word before it could escape his mouth. Mason and Mia sat shoulder to shoulder on the window seat in the living room watching Scott plow the lane from the highway to the barn. Wouldn’t do to have them report to their mom that he’d used bad language on their wedding day.
Clay massaged the nagging ache in his lower back. He’d wrenched it last night, working on a special surprise for Pip and the kids. Thank goodness, he’d insisted they attach the heavy blade to the big tractor yesterday afternoon as a precaution. Adding it today would have been sheer torture. While Seeley had kept Mia occupied, Mason had sat on Scott’s lap in the cab of the tractor, supervising the orchestrated effort to line up the hinges properly and drive the hasps home, locking the heavy steel implement in place. Once they were done, Scott had hitched up a trailer to Clay’s truck and gone into town to pick up the snowmobiles Clay was convinced they would need. Knowing he’d been smart to indulge his inner boy scout was poor comfort now with the amount of snow that had fallen.
Mia slid her small hand into Clay’s, drawing his attention away from the white hell covering the world. “Will the snow stop before the wedding?”
It was ten in the morning, and he’d been on the phone with Jack, Sam, Bruce and Pippa for the past three hours developing and refining a plan, anticipating the weather wouldn’t break. The house phone had been ringing constantly with invited guests checking in to see if they were still going to have the ceremony. Like they’d cancel it due to a little snow. The show didn’t start for seven more hours. The county plows could make it through by then. “God willing and the creek don’t rise,” to quote Scott’s favorite saying.
“Don’t know, sweetheart. I hope so.” Jesus, God, he wished it with every fiber of his heart. Pippa had sounded relaxed and confident with his plan when he’d spoken to her thirty minutes ago. But he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure without being able to look in her gorgeous blue eyes.
“How will Mommy get here? She was supposed to come in a ’mosine but what if it can’t drive in the snow either?” Mia fretted. Mason shifted and wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulders, sending an earnest look Clay’s direction.
“I think it’s probably a given the limousine will not be picking up your mom and the rest of the bridal party.” Crap! That was the wrong answer. Fear took up residence in Mia’s eyes. God, what a dumbass thing to say.
“Oh, no! Mommy can’t miss the wedding. She has to see me in my pretty dress. You have to see her in hers.”
Her distress sliced like a knife to the heart. The troubled look on Mason’s face didn’t help. Clay knelt in front of his soon-to-be-daughter and hugged her tight. He leaned away, looked at Mason, then back to the girl. “Mia, baby, have you ever heard the expression be prepared?”
“Oh! I have,” Mason chimed in. He grinned, then formed the familiar salute and lifted his hand.
Mia nodded, her eyes somber.
“Did you know I was
a scout when I was your age? Yep, sure was. And I learned how important it is to be ready for anything. I’ve kept it in mind all my life, including when I was an Army Ranger. Mason and Scott helped me fix the snowplow yesterday. We’re ready in case the roads are too bad today. We’re prepared. It’s also why I sent Scott to town to get snowmobiles. I’m going to leave in a little bit to pick Mommy and her friends up and bring them here.”
“Can I go?” Mia asked.
“Do you mind very much staying here to help Nana get everything ready in the kitchen?” Malin had assured him that the caterer was enroute. The main highways were snow-packed, but passable. As soon as Scott finished the lane, he was heading up the road to meet the catering van and escort them in.
A large black truck with a snow blade attached turned up the lane, followed by a blue Suburban. Reinforcements had arrived.
“Look! Uncle Jack is here! And Grandpa!” Mason shouted.
The vehicles pulled around the circular drive in front of the house and parked. Doors flung open and passengers alighted. Jack and Sam arrived in the truck. Pippa’s brother, Noah, had driven Bruce’s SUV with Eileen and Colby emerging from the back seat.
The small group tromped up the steps and through the door Clay held open. Every Kerrigan was present and accounted for. Except the most important one. Dammit, he should have never insisted they sleep separately last night. He’d missed her in his bed and her absence at the moment was causing too much anxiety. His heart kicked in his chest when doubt, as unwelcome as the snowstorm, tried to set up shop. He ruthlessly squashed the sensation. He would not fail his spitfire. Not even an option.
“How many snowmobiles do you have?” Noah asked as he shook hands with Clay. Mia threw herself into Noah’s arms, and he held the girl close while wiping his feet on the hall runner.
“Between the machines I rented, and Scott’s two, we have plenty. We also have my truck and Jack’s. They’ll make it through anything.”
Eileen helped Colby out of his jacket. “We should have gone to Pippa’s house first and picked her up.”
Bruce patted his wife’s shoulder. “Eileen, it’s on the opposite side of town. Plus, we wouldn’t have had room for everyone. Better to get them on the snowmobiles. We barely made it through in the Suburban.”
“There’s really only one person I want here. Pippa.” Clay crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.
Dragging a cardboard box behind her, Seeley shuffled into the hall to greet the new arrivals. “I grabbed all the extra gloves and coveralls I could find.” She shook out a pair of dark green Carhart coveralls emblazoned with the Sleepy T logo. The thick canvas material would provide a superior barrier to wind, a necessity for transporting people from town. “I’ve got extras for your passengers.”
Clay took the pair from her hands and kicked off his shoes. “Thanks, Mom. Okay everyone, suit up. Let’s go rescue the bride.”
Wind whistled through his helmet as he sped along the unplowed roadside. The drone of the three other machines behind him served as a catalyst, riding him hard. Twisting the throttle, he poured on more speed. The pitch of the motor sharpened to a whine as he urged his ride up a hill. Hitting bumps at that speed guaranteed the pain continued in his back. He ignored the stabbing knives and focused on the path ahead.
A fast glance over his shoulder assured him that Jack, Sam, and Noah kept up. Clay eyed his speedometer, conveniently positioned adjacent to a small digital clock. They’d made good time so far by traveling the way the crow flies, but the normally comfortable twenty-minute drive into town by vehicle had stretched into a forty-five minute exercise in frosted hell endurance.
Cresting the top of the rise, he caught sight of Granite Pointe. He flexed his fingers on the brake, slowed to a stop, and set the parking brake, waiting for the brothers to catch up to him. Standing up on the running boards, he surveyed the scene before him.
Even though white hell had fallen out of the sky relentlessly for the past twenty hours, it had landed beautifully. A blanket of white contrasted with gray clouds and the wet steel of the Atlantic Ocean. Snow and ice encased the boulders surrounding the harbor. The spray pattern from the waves that had pounded against the rocks was lacy and shimmering despite the gloom of the storm. God, his spitfire would love this view.
He stripped off his glove, then unzipped the breast pocket in his coveralls to dig his cell phone out. He knew he shouldn’t waste the time, but he was certain Pippa would be happy to hear from him about their progress. Activating the camera, he aimed it at the town and clicked off a shot as his three companions slid to a halt next to him.
“Really, Clay?” Sam scoffed. “You’re going to stop to take pictures? Too bad there aren’t some flowers around to pick or grapes to peel. What happened to the mission?”
“Shut the fuck up, Sammy,” he commanded with a laugh as he keyed in a text to Pip. “This is a point of reference shot. The spitfire will be able to figure out how close we are and be dressed and ready to rock and roll when we get there.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I know what I’m doing, but you might ask Jack what he’s up to.” Clay nodded toward Jack who’d also pulled out a cell phone and was snapping pictures while Clay and Sam talked. Noah stood by, surveying the landscape with a smile on his face.
“Hey, this is Jem’s first winter here in Massachusetts. I know she’ll love to have a scene like this as her screen saver.” Jack looked away from the display and grinned. “Besides, my fiancée really knows how to express her gratitude.”
Tension melted from Clay’s shoulders. Rescuing Pippa and getting her to the church on time had started as a mission, but evolved to an adventure with some of the best people he knew. Family had always been important to him, but for years, it had been just him and Mom. When he joined the army, his fellow soldiers had become more brothers than friends. It sounded cliché, but it was a truth he held dear. He’d never expected to expand his family circle when he’d moved to Granite Pointe. Now, he had the privilege of calling these three men his true brothers. They were here with him, braving the elements to help him and their sister achieve their hearts’ desire. The Kerrigan men would always have his back, just as he’d have theirs.
He hit Send and stowed the phone in his pocket, not waiting for a response. He knew Pip would get it and be waiting for him when they got there. The last miles of their journey stretched away like an eternity. A mere fifteen minutes—only nine hundred seconds until he saw her lovely face. A small chasm of time until he could smile away her worry. No, by God, by the end of the day, she’d be Mrs. Clay Mathers. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he loved the sound of that. Mrs. Clay Mathers. A thrill of contentment slid through him.
“Let’s go, troops. You need to get me to the church, er…the barn, on time.” He revved the engine, a loud, insistent sound urging him on—move, move, move! Releasing the parking brake, he jumped away from the Kerrigans and headed downhill toward his future.
10
Motor noise rose like rolling thunder, breaking the eerie stillness created by the blanket of snow. Normally, Pip loved the tranquility accompanying a snowfall. But today, the shrill powerful sound of snowmobiles racing up her street was music to her ears. It meant Clay and her brothers had made it. She danced an excited little jig and swung open the door to wait for them to arrive and dismount their mechanical horses.
Thank heavens the snow had finally tapered off. Gone were the clumps of flakes that had thudded against the ground upon landing. In their place were individual crystals shimmering in the breeze. Her front yard was a peaceful white oasis. Snow covered the bushes and evergreens near the sidewalk, like frosting on a cupcake. The picture Clay had texted her had a grander, more sweeping view, but the cozy scene in front of her touched her heart.
December was a crazy, unpredictable time of year to get married. Heck, the white stuff half buried the For Sale sign by the sidewalk. But she couldn’t be happier with the backdrop Mother Nature had tossed th
eir way. Maybe she’d be able to convince Clay they needed to walk out to the rows of trees surrounding the Sleepy T for some pictures. A permanent visual record of everything they’d overcome to get married. She already had the best spot picked out in her mind. She just hoped the photographer would be game. If he wasn’t, Pip would just bully Sam into putting his photography skills to work on her behalf.
Several of her neighbors had stepped out on their porches to investigate the noise, and raised their hands to wave and holler good luck wishes to her over the roar of machines. She’d miss them when they moved to the farm permanently. She knew the kids would miss their friends, too, but town was only a short distance away and Mason and Mia had already invited friends to play on the rolling hills and tree-filled valleys of the Sleepy T.
Malin cursed softly behind her, distracting Pip from the view of the four men racing their snowmobiles down her street. “The photographer slid into a ditch. He’s waiting on a tow truck now.”
Pippa shrugged, not bothered by the news. She’d woken this morning certain that everything would work out. Marrying Clay was the most important thing in her life right now, and he’d make sure it happened. She’d decided to not sweat the small stuff last night. The resolution had helped her sleep better than she thought possible on the night before her wedding. She didn’t bother to turn around. “If he can’t make it, I know Sam has his camera equipment with him. It will be fine.”
Jem crowded into the doorway behind her, putting her arms around Pip. When she pressed her cheek to Pip’s shoulder, Pip felt the laughter tumbling through the other woman. “Pippa Sanders, uh…almost Mathers, I love this new attitude of yours. I’m proud of you.”
“Hey, Jem,” Pip said, laying her palm against Jem’s forearm. She raised her voice to be heard over the drone of the approaching engines. “When you and my brother pick a date, I have a couple of recommendations. Avoid winter. And hurricane season. That pretty much leaves May, June, or maybe July.”
A Winter Wedding: A Five Senses Short (Five Senses series) Page 6
