A Proposal at the Wedding

by Gina Wilkins

  She was just about to turn in that night when Paul called. Seeing his name on her phone screen made her smile even as her pulse rate jumped. She sat back on the bed, curled her feet beneath her and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Hi. I hope it’s not too late to call.”

  “I’m still awake,” she assured him. “I was just getting ready for bed.”

  A moment of silence followed her comment and she wondered a bit self-consciously if he was picturing her in bed. She was suddenly thinking of him that way, which made her shift restlessly against the headboard and resist an impulse to fan her cheeks with her free hand.

  “I didn’t know when to call so I wouldn’t interrupt your work, but I figured you’d be done by now.” His voice sounded just a bit deeper than usual. “How was your day?”

  “Busy. Yours?”

  “I took the twins and a few of their friends to the lake for a cookout and swim.”

  “That had to be interesting in your Mustang,” she teased.

  He chuckled. “I rented a seven-passenger van for the day. They filled the seats.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It was…interesting. They flirted and giggled and roughhoused, and then at the end of the day the girls cried all the way back while the guys postured and mocked them.”

  “Why did the girls cry?”

  “Because the twins are moving away and Jenna and her friends want to extract as much angst and drama as possible from the next month.”

  Bonnie smiled, remembering how her own friends had relished dramatic performances at that age. “It was very noble of you to serve as their chaperone today.”

  She could almost hear him shrug. “I want to spend a little time with them during these last weeks, too,” he admitted. “Though I managed not to burst into noisy tears when I dropped them off at their house.”

  She laughed. “Very stoic of you.”

  “We manly men are tough like that.”

  “Of course. Cassie didn’t go with you guys today?”

  “No, she had classes. She said if I talked to you I should tell you she’s going to call tomorrow to set up a time when you can get together for a fitting. Apparently she’s got your dress to a point where she needs you to try it on.”

  “I can’t wait to see it. I could probably clear a couple of hours Sunday afternoon. If she needs to see me before then, she’ll have to stop by here for a quick consultation.”

  “Really busy, huh?”

  She explained about the two weddings scheduled for Saturday, and he offered both congratulations and sympathy, making her smile again. “By the way,” she said, “Cassie’s friend Danielle and her fiancé met with Kinley this afternoon and booked the inn for the third weekend in May. They’ve already hired a wedding planner, who came with them. I met with them only briefly, but I’m sure it’s going to work out great.”

  Danielle wasn’t using the same planner as Cassie, a nice man Bonnie and Kinley had collaborated with several times before, but rather someone new to the area. Alexis Mosley, who had appeared to be close to Bonnie’s age, had purchased her business from a wedding planner who’d recently retired. She had seemed quite nice and highly competent. Kinley, needless to say, had made it very clear that they would always welcome Alexis and her future clients at Bride Mountain Inn.

  “I’m glad Cassie was able to recommend you to her friend. Maybe Danielle will also bring in word-of-mouth business.”

  “We’ll take all the business we can get,” she replied cheerfully. “It would be nice if we could spread it out a bit, rather than mostly in a span of a few weeks, but we’re not too choosy.”

  “I was going to ask if you have time for dinner or a movie sometime in the next few days, but it sounds as though that’s a long shot this week. Maybe we can get together sometime next week,” he said, sounding resigned.

  “I’m free Monday evening for dinner.”

  “Pencil me in.”

  She chuckled at the dated phrase. “I’ll type you in,” she corrected. “And then I’ll hit Save.”

  “Yeah, do that.”

  “And maybe I’ll see you on Sunday, if that’s when Cassie wants to get together.”

  “That would be nice. I’ll let you get some rest now. Just wanted to say hi.”

  “Hi,” she said, smiling softly in response to the intimate memory that crept into her mind with the word.

  “Sleep well, Bonnie.”

  He disconnected before she could respond. Could he possibly suspect that she expected to lie awake for a while yet, thinking about him, wondering what would happen between them, and breathlessly anticipating the next time she could see him?

  “Cassie, this is going to be the most beautiful dress I’ve ever owned.” Late Sunday afternoon, Bonnie twisted in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom of Paul’s home that Cassie had commandeered as a sewing room. She peered over her shoulder at the low-cut back of the leaf-green, cap sleeve sheath, blinking a bit at the way the fabric hugged the curve of her hips and bottom.

  This was a new dress shape for her, formfitting, revealing a triangular swath of back and a tasteful amount of cleavage. The waist nipped in to give her an almost classic hourglass shape, and the hem was just short enough to make her legs look surprisingly long beneath the sleek silhouette. A pair of heels would make it look even better, she thought, rising slightly on tiptoes and admiring the result.

  Cassie dimpled in pleasure, smiling around the pin she held in her mouth. She removed it to slide it carefully into the fabric at Bonnie’s right side, making a minute adjustment to the fit. “That’s better. Definitely wear heels. They don’t have to be stilettos, but at least a nice two-inch.”

  “Would you wear a necklace with it?”

  Cassie shook her head, making her loose strawberry blond ponytail wobble precariously. “A bracelet and earrings. No necklace.”

  “You’re the designer,” Bonnie conceded, amused. “That’s part of presenting your garments, isn’t it? Styling the model?”

  “Yes.” Cassie looked as though she couldn’t wait to get started with that. “So, I’ll advise you to leave your hair down in loose waves and wear a bright blusher that brings out your eye color. Those blue eyes are gorgeous.”

  Now it was Bonnie’s turn to dimple. “Thank you.”

  “Just calling it like I see it. There’s nothing more I need to do today, so you can put your other clothes on. Be careful of the pins. Just lay the dress over that chair. I’ll go pour us some tea while you dress.”

  “Sounds good.” Not to mention that she knew Paul was waiting downstairs for them. She’d barely had time to greet him when she’d arrived and had been rushed upstairs by his daughter for the fitting. And now that that was out of the way…

  She glanced at her watch, sighing at how little free time she had before she had to rush back to the inn. Carefully peeling off the mostly finished dress, she draped it over the designated chair and dressed quickly in the top and skirt she’d worn over. Pushing a hand through her hair to smooth it, she moved down to the kitchen, her heart already beating rather rapidly in anticipation.

  She found Cassie pouring iced tea into three tall glasses at the table. Paul stood by the counter. He turned when Cassie walked in, grinning, a chip-and-dip tray cradled between his hands. He set it on the table with a flourish. “Just in case you want a snack,” he said.

  Lifting an eyebrow in response to his tone, she glanced from him to the tray. The center bowl held a creamy dip topped with chopped, roasted red peppers. Kale chips surrounded the bowl, appearing to be perfectly roasted.

  “Kale chips tossed with olive oil, garlic, lemon juice, red pepper flakes and sea salt and baked until crispy,” he said, speaking nonchalantly. “Served with roasted red pepper yogurt dip seasoned with a little sm
oked paprika.”

  “You made this?”

  “All by himself,” Cassie assured her with a proud laugh. “Can you believe it? Dad making kale chips? Roasting red peppers and making dip with them?”

  “I’m impressed,” Bonnie assured him.

  He held a chair for her. “Maybe you should taste it first.”

  Moments later, she dabbed her mouth with the paper napkin Cassie had set out beside the snack plates. “Definitely impressed. This is delicious, Paul. I’m giving you extra credit for the class.”

  Cassie hooted.

  Paul laughed. “You’re not even grading the class.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you metaphorical extra credit. This is really good.”

  Paul scooped dip onto a chip. “I found the recipe on one of those internet sites you recommended.”

  He popped the chip into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “It is pretty good, if I say so myself.”

  Cassie munched appreciatively. “It’s so nice that Dad’s learning how to cook more healthily now that he’s going to be living here entirely on his own. I’m glad he’s taking your class, Bonnie.”

  She smiled across the table at him, receiving a wink in return. “So am I.”

  “Danielle called me and said she booked the inn for her wedding. She’s so excited.”

  “I’m glad. And thank you for the referral.”

  “Of course. I’ve been telling all my friends how nice it is to work with you. I’ll bet that article Kinley’s boyfriend wrote for Modern South will help with business, too. I read it online this morning. The history of the place is really interesting. Is it really haunted?”

  Bonnie suppressed a wince as she thought of her sister’s probable reaction to that question. Not to mention Logan’s. “No, it isn’t haunted.”

  “The ghost bride, right?” Paul nodded knowingly. “I heard about her once. Don’t remember where.”

  Bonnie gave them a quick summary of the old legend about a young woman who had overcome many obstacles to be with the love of her life, only to die tragically the night before her long-planned wedding. It had been said that she had haunted Bride Mountain whenever true love was present there, smiling a blessing at couples who had found the happiness together she’d known too briefly with her love. Some had embellished the story to add that when a couple saw the bride, it meant they would live happily ever after together.

  Cassie sighed deeply. “It’s such a sad story, isn’t it?”

  “Most old legends are,” her father pointed out.

  “But it’s sweet. Have you ever seen her, Bonnie?”

  Bonnie smiled and shook her head. “No. But of course, I haven’t been in a serious relationship while I’ve lived in the inn.”

  Paul looked at her quizzically. “Surely you don’t believe she really exists.”

  “And why not?” Cassie demanded. “There are more things on this earth than can be explained with mathematics, Daddy.”

  “Yes, but—”

  Ignoring him, Cassie turned to Bonnie. “Have you ever known anyone who saw her?”

  She hesitated only a moment, then answered candidly. “My great-uncle Leo and great-aunt Helen swore they both saw her the night Uncle Leo proposed. They didn’t talk about it much, and almost never outside the family, but they were convinced she smiled at them in the flower garden.”

  “Oh my gosh, that’s so romantic!”

  “Logan thinks Uncle Leo made up the story to entertain me because I loved hearing it as a child. Kinley says maybe they saw a wisp of fog and got carried away by their joy that evening into believing it was the bride. I was the only one who believed him unconditionally.”

  “And you still do, don’t you?” Cassie challenged her.

  Bonnie merely smiled.

  “Have you considered using the legend for advertising purposes?” Paul asked, picking up his tea glass. “I haven’t seen it mentioned on your website.”

  “Kinley and Logan worry that having a ghost story formally attached to the inn would attract the wrong kind of crowd, those looking for haunted house thrills they would not receive, or deter potential guests simply looking for a peaceful getaway. As for myself, I’m just reluctant to use that sweet story my great-uncle used to tell me for advertising fodder. So we rely on our excellent service, our beautiful setting and our comfortable accommodations to sell ourselves to potential guests.”

  “And someday you and your brother and sister can tell your children about the sweet legend attached to the family inn,” Cassie said. “Maybe someday one of you will even see her in person.”

  “Maybe we will.” A bit of kale seemed to stick in Bonnie’s throat. She took several swallows of her tea, then stood. “I really have to get back to the inn now. I can’t count on the bride to serve sandwiches for me.”

  “I have to run too, to make a phone call,” Cassie said. “Bye, Bonnie. I’ll call later to set up a time to deliver your dress and take your picture in it, okay?”

  “Yes, I’ll look forward to it. And if I don’t see you before, I’ll see you next Sunday at your shower.”

  “I can’t wait.” With a final quick wave, Cassie dashed out of the room.

  Paul’s gaze met Bonnie’s, and his expression turned suddenly wry. “I think that was her oh-so-subtle way of giving me a chance to kiss you good-night.”

  “I had the same suspicion,” she agreed with a laugh. “And since she went to so much trouble…”

  She stepped closer to him and lifted her face. He did not hesitate to take her up on the silent invitation.

  Eventually the kiss had to end, of course. “We’re still on for tomorrow night?” he asked as they reluctantly separated.

  “Yes. Is seven-thirty okay? That will give me time to finish all my chores and get ready.”

  “Seven-thirty is good for me.”

  “Fine. I’ll cook. You bring wine.”

  “Red or white?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “I’ll certainly try,” he murmured, and kissed her again before she made herself walk away.

  They had lingered so long over the excellent dinner Bonnie prepared the next evening that it was almost dark by the time they decided to take a walk in the garden afterward. Bonnie ducked into the inn first to make sure everything was going well inside, but she felt no need to entertain the guests making use of the public parlor. A few guests were outside enjoying the pleasant weather, but other than a greeting and a friendly nod, they didn’t try to converse with Bonnie and Paul.

  Though the first of August was still three days away, Paul could tell that the days were beginning to shorten just a bit, the shadows slanting longer, earlier. Summer was winding down. Within a few weeks, his daughter would be married, her other family resettled in Texas, and he would be back in front of his classes, teaching polynomials and differential equations.

  Yet he’d be free to do anything he wanted when he wasn’t working, he reminded himself quickly. Hang out with the guys, do a little hiking and fishing, kayaking and mountain biking until the season changed, skiing and snowboarding afterward. With the exception of his work obligations, he wouldn’t have to check with anyone before making plans, or be back at any certain time. Wouldn’t be expected to drop everything if someone needed a ride or a sports coach. He’d experience the carefree bachelor’s life he’d never had a chance to live in his youth. It would be fun. Really. Just great.

  “Is this the infamous rosebush that attacked your brother?” he asked, nodding toward the unusually variegated blooms that deepened from light pink to deep salmon. This bush sat a little apart from the rest of the garden, in a roomy, cleared niche shaded by a couple of nice trees but otherwise unlandscaped. On the far side of the clearing, a dense stand of woods marked the border of the inn’s grounds. A sign sat at the opening of
a trail that disappeared into the woods, marking the beginning of the hiking trail that had been pointed out to him on an earlier tour. He had yet to explore it, but he thought he might sometime before the wedding.

  Bonnie smiled. “No, that was the big one at the other end of the garden. Kinley, Logan and I planted this one a couple of months ago, on what would have been our mother’s birthday. This was her favorite rose, but it’s somewhat difficult to track down. We finally found one, and we’ve all been babying it ever since to keep it alive.”

  “That’s a nice gesture. Keeping her memory with you here in the gardens.”

  She nodded. “We want to dedicate the meditation garden we plan to install here eventually to the memory of the family members who made this dream possible. Our great-grandparents, who built the place, our mom, who taught us to love it, Aunt Helen and Uncle Leo, who left it for us. We’re going to put in a nice koi pond with a little bridge over it leading to the trailhead, a few pieces of nice outdoor sculpture, more flowers and maybe some of those little LED lights that slowly change colors, though Logan’s not so sure about that. We’ve already bought a couple of nice teak benches we found on sale and that we have in storage until we decide exactly where to place them. I had the idea recently to call it Finley’s Nook—Finley was my mother’s family name.”

  “That sounds real nice.”

  She nodded. “Turns out koi ponds are rather expensive if you do them right. It will be a while before we get to that project because we’re putting in some new outside-access restrooms this winter, under the back deck. But we’ll get it done eventually.”