Monday, Eva and her bridesmaids drove into Kalispell for their final fittings. It was Amy, Eva, Delphine and Calla, plus Luke’s sisters, Bella and Dana, and his sisters-in-law, Fallon and Annie. They took over the wedding boutique and shared champagne and snacks as they tried on their dresses for the big day.
They snapped selfies like mad. The full-length gowns were gorgeous, each one in a different color and style. They’d all brought the cowboy boots they would be wearing on the big day. At first, Eva had wanted them in dressy nude pumps, but the boots were a better choice for a barn wedding, especially with the ceremony itself being held outside on uneven scrub grass.
When Eva tried on her dress, all the happy laughter and chatter stopped. She emerged from the dressing room and everybody sighed. Her sleeveless gown had a fitted bodice and a full skirt of ruffled tulle, and it was perfect with her teal-blue, white-tooled cowboy boots.
“You are a vision,” Calla said reverently at last. They all burst into enthusiastic applause and more than a few tears.
The next day, Amy went with Eva to check in with Viv. The lists of things still to do before the wedding went on and on.
“Don’t forget to break in those pretty cowboy boots,” Viv advised. “Get plenty of sleep. Practice your vows out loud. Keep on top of your email just in case someone has something important they have to tell you about their part in the wedding. Pack your honeymoon bags well ahead and check them the next day to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything. Confirm that Derek has his toast prepared, and your dad. As for the cake—”
Eva cut her off. “I have the cake completely under control.”
“I just worry it’s too much for you. You’re the bride.”
Eva stood taller. “Yes, I am. The bride who happens to be a baker by profession. I’ve always dreamed of baking my own wedding cake and that is exactly what I’m doing.”
Viv had the good sense not to argue the point further. She turned to Amy. “How about your toast?”
“I’m on it,” Amy promised, her fingers crossed behind her back.
That night, she and Derek worked together on the toasts. She helped him write his and he gave her a few great pointers on hers. And then they went to bed and stayed awake too late, making love, whispering together, laughing a lot. At one in the morning, they got up and raided the freezer. They ate cappuccino-chunky-chocolate ice cream straight from the carton and then went back to bed and made love again.
Suddenly, it was Wednesday.
Before accompanying Eva to a final check-in with the caterer, Amy had a long Skype meeting with her supervisor and his boss at Hurdly and Main. It took some convincing, but they finally agreed that it didn’t matter whether she worked from her home in Boulder or in Montana. They said they would want her at the Boulder office for a few days a month, minimum, and to remain available several times a year to give expert testimony when certain cases she’d developed ended up in court.
She signed off the Skype call knowing she could make her job work long-distance and she couldn’t wait to get with Derek and talk it over.
But then she started thinking how that would be jumping the gun a little. After the wedding, that was the time to discuss whatever might happen next. They would talk then about their desires and intentions for the future. That would be the time to tell him she could telecommute, the time to prove how much she wanted to be with him by showing him how she was prepared to make that happen.
Thursday, during the two hours she spent at Sunshine Farm supposedly working, she picked up her phone out of the blue and called her father.
“Jelly Bean, I’m so happy to hear your voice.”
Jelly Bean. The silly nickname made her tear up a little. She could hear his love for her in the way he said it and right now, she didn’t want to feel his love. She wanted to yell at him for the things he’d done thirteen years ago—the things he’d done and never copped to. “Hey, Dad.”
“Still in Rust Creek Falls?”
“That’s right.”
“Having a good time?”
She had no idea where to even start with him. So, she came right out with it. “Dad, I’m in love with Derek Dalton and I always have been and I’m going to give it my whole heart this time around. I’m not positive how it will work out yet, but my plan is to move back here and make a life with him.” That is, if he wants a life with me.
The silence was deafening. “I see,” Jack Wainwright said at last. “What about your job?”
“I’ve handled that. I work mostly from home anyway. It’s not going to be a big deal. And Dad, I’m telling you this because I want you to know how I feel and how I hope things will work out. Don’t you dare approach Derek behind my back.”
For a long count of five, her father said nothing. Then, at last, he answered quietly, “I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“I do.” There was another endless silence, after which he shocked the hell out of her by saying, “Your mother and I had a feeling this might happen, that with a month back in Montana, you and Derek would...reconnect. I expected this. And I’m glad. Your mother will be, too.”
A silly sputtering sound escaped her. She stammered, “Wh-what did you just say?”
“I said I’m glad and I meant it. I know you really loved that boy.”
“Love, Dad. Present tense.”
“All right. Love him, then. I know you love him and over the years, I’ve regretted my role in tearing you two apart. I’ve realized we could have found a better way, a way for you to get the education you deserved and still be with the boy you love.”
Tears clogged her throat and burned her eyes—and that made her furious. “I’ve talked to Derek about that summer. He finally admitted that you came to find him at the Circle D, that you begged him to let me go.”
Her dad said simply, “That’s true.”
“Why didn’t you even have the integrity to tell me what you did?”
“It’s hard to explain...”
“Try me,” she insisted through clenched teeth.
“Well, at first, I thought the main thing was to get you away from him and Rust Creek Falls, to get you back to focusing on your education, on your new life in Boulder. But then, over time, I felt guilty. I knew that at the very least, you did have a right to know that I had convinced your boyfriend—”
“Husband, Dad. Derek was my husband.” And the father of the child I never had. She considered just saying it, confessing that last sad little truth right out loud.
But her dad didn’t need to know, not really. And bringing up the baby now would only confuse the issue at hand.
“Yes,” said her dad. “Derek was your husband. I know. And I promise you, Amy, at the time I thought I was doing the right thing for you.”
“Well, it wasn’t right.”
“I see that now. But it seemed right at the time. And later, over time, I saw the sadness in you. I saw that what you felt for Derek really did run deep. And somehow, I just never could find the words to tell you what I’d done. Then every year I didn’t tell you, it only got harder to decide how to come out with it, how to admit to you that I’d convinced Derek that if he really loved you, the only choice was to let you go.”
If he really loved me... All her anger just leached away. She felt only sadness, for what was lost, what might have been. “So. I guess he really did love me, huh?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I believe he really did—and still does, from what you’re telling me now.”
Oh, she did hope so.
“Maybe in time you’ll come to forgive me,” her father said.
Of course, she would forgive him. But some stubborn part of her refused to make it too easy for him. “I’m not happy with you about this.”
“I understand.”
“But, Dad, I do love you. Mom, too.”
“And we love you. So much. We just want you to be happy, that’s all. Please tell Derek I look forward to seeing him again, to having a chance to apologize in
person for the wrong I did him thirteen years ago.”
“I’ll tell him.”
They said goodbye, after which she sat staring blankly at her computer monitor, longing to tell Derek everything her dad had just said.
And she would tell him, once the wedding was over and it was finally time to talk about the rest of their lives.
Chapter Ten
Friday afternoon, the wedding party gathered and did the walk-through outside under the clear, sunny sky, in front of the big, wide-open doors of the yellow barn. That evening, Bella and Hudson hosted the rehearsal dinner at their house.
Amy and Derek didn’t get back to his place until after midnight. They were so close now to the end of their friends-with-secret-benefits agreement. After tomorrow, it would happen at last. They would talk about the future, decide what came next for them.
If anything, she thought and shivered a little. But that was just fatalism rearing its ugly head.
She wasn’t going to be negative. Uh-uh. Because she definitely believed they did have a future, she and Derek. She wanted it so much. And she was almost positive that he wanted it, too.
She longed to get going on it, get her dreams for the future out in the open. But really, the best thing at this point, she decided, was to stick with the plan, to get through the wedding tomorrow, to enjoy the party afterward.
And then, over breakfast Sunday morning, she would do it. She would tell him that she loved him, that she’d realized now she’d never stopped. She would say she wanted another chance with him. She wanted to stay here in Rust Creek Falls with him and get busy on the rest of their lives.
“You’re really quiet,” he said, holding her close after they’d climbed into bed.
She wavered. Why not just tell him everything right now?
But in the end, she chickened out. “I keep going over my toast in my head. I hope I get it right.”
“It’s a great little speech,” he soothed, stroking her hair.
“Little is right. Because short is always best.” And I love you and I want it to work out for us this time. At last. Oh, Derek. I want that so bad...
“It’s gonna be fine,” he promised, catching a random curl and wrapping it around his finger.
She lifted her chin and captured his gaze. “You sure?”
“No doubt.” His eyes were bottle-green in the light of the bedside lamp, and beneath the covers, she felt him stirring, growing hard against her bare hip. He said her name, “Amy,” like a promise. Or a plea. His wonderful mouth dipped down and claimed hers.
She kissed him back with all the love and yearning in her heart.
It was going to work out this time.
It had to work out.
There was no other possibility but happiness for them now. After all these long years apart, they deserved to share a future together. And Sunday morning, over coffee and pancakes, they would start planning the rest of their lives.
* * *
At three o’clock the next afternoon, beneath the blue Montana sky, the groomsmen and the groom took their places at the makeshift altar in front of the yellow barn. The six-piece band launched into the traditional wedding march and the bridesmaids, in a rainbow of bright dresses, took their walk down the aisle. They carried bouquets of sunflowers and lavender phlox. As the maid of honor, Amy came last.
When she took her place with the other bridesmaids, three cherubs appeared—Jamie Stockton’s two-and-a-half-year-old triplets, Jared, Henry and Kate. Kate came first in a ruffled blush-pink dress, tiny cowboy boots on her feet. She scattered petals as she went. Jared and Henry, the ring bearers, were right behind her, perfect little cowboys in jeans, boots, blue shirts, tan vests and hats to match. The three made it almost to the bridal party assembled at the end of the aisle.
But a few feet from their destination, something caught Henry’s eye. “Horsie!” he cried, veering off at the end of the white carpet and racing toward a gray gelding standing at the pasture fence twenty yards away. A murmur of laughter rose from the guest.
Fallon, the triplets’ stepmother, moved fast. She caught little Henry before he made good his escape. Jamie corralled Jared, just in case he got ideas from his brother. Kate never wavered. She took her place with the rest of the wedding party, head high, her angelic face composed.
Then the music changed, and a lone guitarist played Pachelbel’s Canon in D. More than one pair of eyes brimmed with tears as Eva, a vision in white except for the teal-blue toes of her cowboy boots peeking out beneath her skirt, her bright hair covered in a filmy veil, emerged from the bride’s tent set up a few yards from the foot of the white carpet. She carried sunflowers, purple phlox, white roses and yellow snapdragons.
Not far from the tent, Ray Armstrong waited. He offered Eva his arm and whispered something to her. She murmured a reply. Even through her veil, her pretty face seemed to glow.
Ray walked his youngest daughter down the aisle, stepping aside at last to leave her facing her groom. A sigh went up from the rows of white chairs as Luke turned back her veil.
Their eyes only for each other, they said their vows and exchanged their rings. Then, as Luke kissed his bride, Amy’s gaze strayed to Derek. He was already watching her. They shared a secret smile.
Tomorrow. The word echoed in her head.
Tomorrow would be their day, hers and Derek’s. She couldn’t wait to tell him everything, to open her heart to him, to claim again what they’d lost all those years ago.
For the wedding dinner and reception, Viv Shuster had worked a miracle in the old barn, with twinkle lights and long plank tables. She’d hung gorgeous old crystal chandeliers from the overhead beams and created a bower effect with yards of filmy white fabric draped from the rafters. There were flowers in mason jars everywhere.
It really was perfect, Amy thought. Eva had never looked so radiant, so gloriously happy.
As for Derek, he was sweet and attentive. But as the afternoon became early evening, he seemed to grow distracted—distant, even. As though something was preying on his mind.
* * *
Derek couldn’t quite put his finger on what was bugging him. A lot of things, really. Amy had been too quiet the last couple of days. He wasn’t sure what was going on with her, but it kind of made him nervous.
He had hopes, he really did, for a future with her. And he’d made a secret trip to Kalispell two days before because this time, he intended to offer something a whole lot better than an imitation diamond when he made his big move. But maybe he’d jumped the gun.
Maybe she was only thinking that it was almost time for her to go.
Or maybe it was this perfect country wedding messing with his head. It was like a dream, with Luke and Eva so happy, their whole lives ahead of them and nothing standing in their way. And it reminded him too painfully of how different his own wedding day had been, of him and Amy at the courthouse with strangers for witnesses, of the forty-dollar wedding ring and the tired-looking bunch of daisies she’d clutched in her hand as they vowed to love and care for each other as long as they both should live.
This wedding brought all the old hurts to fresh life again, reminding him how much he’d loved her and how wrong it all went, how little he’d had to offer her then.
His plan was to speak of the future with her tomorrow, to tell her he still loved her and always would. How was that going to go? He couldn’t be sure what she’d say when he asked her to be his again in front of the world—forever this time, no matter what.
He tried to take heart from the tender looks she gave him, but playing the “just friends” game was really getting to him. He hated it now. He wanted to shout to the world that she was his. That they were together.
At dinner, it was open seating for everyone but the bride and groom, who sat at a smaller table up on a dais. Derek and Amy sat together. He rested his arm across the back of her chair and she didn’t remind him that he was pushing the boundaries of their friends-only act.
Instead, she le
aned close to him and whispered how handsome he looked in his jeans and dress boots, his blue shirt and tan vest. She even straightened his white rose boutonniere, the way a woman does for her special guy.
He was feeling pretty good about everything, gaining confidence about how it would go between them tomorrow when he asked her for forever.
But then Brandi Foster, who lived in Kalispell but sometimes spent her Friday nights at the Ace, pulled out a chair across the table from them. “Derek! How have you been?” She raised her mason jar of wedding punch. “Been a while, huh?”
Yes, it had. About five years, if he wasn’t mistaken. They’d hooked up at the Ace one Friday or Saturday night back when he was spending too much time meeting women in bars. She’d given him her number before he left her place. He’d never gotten around to calling her back.
“Hi, Brandi,” he said, going through the motions, being polite. “I’m doing well. How ’bout you?”
“Can’t complain.” She kind of scowled as she said it. Her gaze shifted to Amy. “If it isn’t the maid of honor. I’m Brandi.” She offered her hand across the table.
Amy took it and gave it a quick shake.
Brandi had a million questions for Amy. Did she live in town? Oh, well, then, if she didn’t, where did she live and when was she going back? How did she know Eva? And no kidding, she went to high school in Rust Creek Falls and graduated the same year as Derek? “So, you were schoolmates, you two.”
“Yes, we were.” Amy leaned a little closer to him and sent him a fond smile. The warmth in those golden-green eyes eased the knot of tension gathering in the center of his chest. Amy didn’t seem all that bothered to be fielding endless questions from a woman she didn’t know.
But then Brandi snickered and drank more punch. The tension in Derek’s chest fisted tight again. Brandi seemed a little buzzed. He wondered if eccentric old Homer Gilmore, famous for spiking the punch at weddings with his dangerously powerful moonshine, might be up to his old tricks again. Brandi craned across the table and stage-whispered to Amy, “Well, if you went to school with Derek, I guess I don’t have to warn you about him.”
A Maverick to [Re]Marry Page 15
