by Lee McKenzie
“It goes well with your tuxedo. And rain on your wedding day is a good thing. Very lucky.”
He smiled at her as he pulled away from the curb. “Lucky, huh? You see the bright side to everything, don’t you?”
She smiled back.
She loved their easy conversation. “I bet Leslie won’t mind the rain.”
“No, she’ll be too happy to notice.”
These days when he spoke about his sister, it was with genuine affection. In so many ways he was a different person from the man she’d met three weeks ago. Earlier in the week she’d reminded him to call Leslie about the tuxedo fitting, and he’d ended up taking his sister out for lunch. Just the two of them, and it had even been his idea. And last night he’d gone willingly, if not altogether happily, to the rehearsal dinner. He’d asked Maggie to go with him but she had declined, since she hadn’t been formally invited. The last thing she wanted to do was to give Mrs. Durrance a reason to dislike her.
He pulled up behind two long white limos parked in front of the church. “Take the umbrella and go inside while I find a place to park. If you see Leslie, tell her I’ll be right in. She’s probably wearing out the carpet, worried that I’ll mess up.”
Maggie touched his arm. “I think it’s very sweet that she wants you to do this. I’m sure it means a lot to her.”
“I’m still surprised she asked,” he said. “But I’m glad she did.”
Maggie leaned forward and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “I know you are.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I just do.” She looked at the ivy-covered facade of the old church. “What a perfect place for a wedding.” She opened the car door, stuck the umbrella outside and released the catch, then stepped beneath it. “See you inside.”
Hoping the rain wouldn’t ruin her shoes, she dashed up the church steps and through the carved wooden doors, collapsing her umbrella as she went. She adored weddings and she’d been looking forward to this one ever since Nick had invited her. Organ music drifted into the empty foyer. Two ushers stood just beyond the double doors that led to the main part of the church, which was filled with wedding guests. The dripping umbrella had created a surprisingly large puddle on the floor and she was looking for a place to stash it when the bride rushed down a corridor toward her.
“Leslie! What an amazing dress! You look gorgeous.” She also looked frantic. “It’s my fault we’re late. I’m so sorry. Nick will be right in. He’s just parking the car.”
Leslie grabbed her hand and squeezed it between both of hers. Her fingers were ice-cold and trembling. “Maggie, I’m so glad I found you. Allison told me how much you helped her and I could really use some advice right now.”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“What should a person do when the right thing doesn’t feel right?” she asked.
Maggie didn’t hesitate. “Let your heart guide you. Your head will always look for reasons to explain away the doubt but it can never change what you know in your heart.”
Leslie hugged her, wet umbrella and all. “Thank you! You’re a lifesaver.” Then she dashed back down the hallway.
Maggie looked through the open double doors. The gray-haired minister stood in front of the altar, and Gerald and John were taking their places. They both looked quite dashing, but neither of them could hold a candle to Nick.
“Maggie?” Nick stood just inside the doorway, holding a soggy newspaper over his head. “Man, it’s raining harder than ever.”
She brushed the raindrops from his broad shoulders. “Did I tell you how good you look?”
He smiled down at her. “You might have mentioned it. Do you know where Leslie is?”
“Down there.” She pointed down the corridor Leslie had taken. “She was just here looking for you and I told her it was all my fault that you’re late. Wait until you see her. She looks amazing.”
“You should go in,” he said, pointing to one of the ushers. “Tell Martin you’re with me. And my mother.”
She blew Nick a kiss, hoping it covered her sudden bout of nerves, and accepted the arm of a man she remembered meeting at Allison’s barbecue.
The church was packed, and filled with the sound of organ music and hushed voices. Maggie had never seen so many flowers in one room. The end of each pew was decked out with white lilies, gardenias and trailing peach-colored ribbons and the altar was all but obscured by giant white flower-filled urns. The florist must have planned his retirement when this order came in.
Maggie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or the music or the way people’s heads turned to look at her as she passed, but suddenly she was imagining a very different wedding. The man at her side was the shadowy image of her father, dignified in his navy pinstriped suit. The thin, pale man standing near the altar was replaced by Nick, looking devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo.
She’d never considered having a traditional wedding, but it could be fun. Her mother would come from Manhattan. Nick’s family would be here. Her father would be here in spirit and, of course, Aunt Margaret wouldn’t miss it. It would be perfect.
The usher stopped at the second pew from the front and indicated that’s where she should sit. Her fantasy wedding was abruptly halted by a pair of cold gray eyes.
“Here?” she whispered to the man at her side.
He nodded.
Yikes. This was Nick’s mother?
Maggie sat and held out her hand. “Hello,” she whispered. “I’m Maggie Meadowcroft.”
The woman’s rigid posture stiffened some more. “I know who you are.” Her hands remained firmly clasped in her lap.
So that’s how it was going to be. Maggie propped the umbrella against the edge of the pew, chiding herself for not leaving the miserable thing in the foyer as it made yet another puddle. Not much she could do about it now, but she could tuck it under the seat with her handbag where it would be out of the way.
Her purse bumped the umbrella, which toppled sideways and crashed to the floor, narrowly missing the toe of one of Mrs. Durrance’s ivory satin pumps.
“Sorry,” she whispered, avoiding eye contact with Nick’s mother as she shoved the purse and umbrella under the pew.
She twisted her strand of pearls around one finger, hoping the ceremony would start soon and trying to figure out how to thaw Mrs. Durrance’s frosty disposition once the reception was under way.
Ten minutes later, the organist was playing Pachelbel’s “Canon,” again, and the hushed conversations of the people in the church grew louder. Every few minutes Maggie glanced over her shoulder and saw that everyone else was doing the same. Mrs. Durrance kept her unwavering gaze on something at the front of the church. If she was concerned by the delay, she covered it well. Even the low, distant rumble of thunder didn’t seem to faze her.
Maggie studied the huge stained-glass window that rose up to the arched ceiling. She was contemplating Gabriel’s magnificence and the surprising length of time that had passed since she’d taken her seat when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.
Nick leaned close. “Come with me,” he whispered. “We need you at the back for a minute.”
“What’s wrong?” his mother asked.
“Nothing. We just need Maggie’s help with something.” But judging by his hard-set jaw and narrowed eyes, something was very wrong.
What could it be?
The groom stepped forward and grabbed Nick’s arm. “What’s going on?” The words hissed sharply from between his teeth. “It’s time to get this show on the road. People are starting to talk.”
Nick gripped his shoulder. “Why don’t you—”
“Gentlemen.” Mrs. Durrance cleared her throat. “You—” she pointed at Gerald, then made a subtle gesture toward the altar “—get back up there and set an example.”
An example of what? Maggie wondered. Surely she wasn’t the only one thinking that maybe there wasn’t going to be a wedding.
Oh, my! That’s not what she’d been
thinking. The idea had just popped into her head that very moment. Is that what Gerald meant when he said people were starting to talk?
If it was possible there wasn’t going to be a wedding this morning, Mrs. Durrance hadn’t caught on. Yet. “I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t want to know,” she said. “I’m here for my daughter’s wedding. Make it happen.”
Nick didn’t reply. Instead he took Maggie’s arm and she tried to keep up with his long strides as he hurried her up the aisle. She pasted on a bright smile and tried to ignore all the curious glances.
“Is something wrong?” she asked as soon as they stepped into the foyer.
“Leslie’s gone.”
She’d had no idea what the problem might be, but she hadn’t expected him to say that. “She’s here. I saw her.”
“That’s why I came to get you. I think you were the last person to see her.”
Uh-oh. Maggie didn’t like the sound of that.
“This is not like Leslie. How was she when you spoke to her? Did you get the impression she was ready to take off?”
Leslie had asked what a person should do when doing the right thing didn’t feel right. At the time it had sounded like a perfectly normal question from a jittery bride.
“Are you sure she’s gone?”
“If she’s here, I can’t find her. Did she say anything to you?”
How do I always end up in the middle of these things? Maggie asked herself. “She seemed nervous, but that’s normal, don’t you think? I mean, I’ve never been a bride so I really can’t say for sure if it’s normal but—”
“Maggie!” His hands curved gently over her shoulders. “We don’t have time for this. I have to find Leslie and it looks as though you’re the last person who spoke to her. I need to know what she said.”
“She asked what I thought a person should do when doing the right thing doesn’t feel right.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“What do you think she meant?”
Maggie shrugged, liking the weight of his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not sure.”
“What did you tell her?”
“To listen to her heart instead of her head.”
“Hmm.”
That was all he said, and she had no idea what he was thinking. “I assumed she was having last-minute jitters, not second thoughts.”
“Would that have changed the advice you gave her?”
“No.” She gave the answer without hesitation.
Nick heaved a sigh. “I didn’t think so.”
“You think this is my fault?”
He gave her a long, thoughtful look and Maggie felt her chest tighten.
“Of course not,” he said finally. “But if she said anything more specific, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“You think I’d hide something like that from you?”
He looked uncomfortable. “You might, if she asked you to.”
“Why would she confide in me? She hardly knows me.”
He shrugged. “For the same reason everyone else is doing it.”
“Actually,” she said cautiously, “I don’t know that many people in Collingwood Station.”
“Plenty of people already know who you are, and they’re saying...” He hesitated. “Never mind. I need to find Leslie. Maybe we should talk to Allison and Candice again.”
They hurried down the corridor and into a small room where the bridesmaids were waiting.
Allison was rearranging the baby’s breath in her daughter’s hair while her son sat on a chair reading a comic book. She glanced up when they walked in. “Any sign of her?”
Nick shook his head.
“What if something has happened?”
Oh, boy, Maggie thought. What was it with these people and drama? “I’m sure she’s fine, but she did seem upset when I saw her.”
Allison shot an accusatory look at Nick. “She said she was going to look for her brother. The ceremony was supposed to start in a few minutes and she was getting worried he wouldn’t show up. Maybe if you’d been on time, this wouldn’t have—”
“Don’t even think about trying to pin this on me. Leslie wouldn’t run out on her own wedding because I was a few minutes late.”
Maggie had one of those niggly feelings deep inside that told her something else was going on here. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it had nothing to do with Nick. “The first thing I told her was that Nick was parking the car. Well, no, the first thing I said was that she looked beautiful, then I told her about Nick. She seemed to calm down after we talked and she came back down this hallway.”
Allison gave a dramatic shrug. “She didn’t come here.”
Nick turned to Candice, who was fidgeting with the ribbons on her bouquet.
That woman really needs to learn to relax, Maggie thought.
“Don’t look at me,” Candice said. “I was in the little girls’ room.” Yet for some reason that didn’t ring true, and she even sounded a little defensive.
“Maybe Leslie went to the little girls’ room, too?” Maggie suggested while she watched for Candice’s reaction.
The woman shook her head, but wouldn’t make eye contact.
Maggie’s patience was running out, which rarely happened. “She was upset about something more important than us being a few minutes late. And it’s pouring outside. Did she have a car here?”
“No,” Allison said. “We all rode together in one of the limos.”
“They’re both still parked out front,” Nick said. “I checked.”
“She couldn’t have left through the front door,” Maggie said. “One of us would have seen her.”
“There’s a side exit near the minister’s office. I’ll go check that.”
Candice got up from her chair in a swish of peach-colored silk. “I’ll help look for her.”
Maggie and Allison exchanged doubtful glances. “I’m sure everything will be fine,” Maggie said, trying to sound bright and cheerful. Meanwhile the bad feeling that had been gnawing at her insides had worked its way up her chest and clogged her throat.
If Leslie was having second thoughts, had Maggie’s last-minute counsel tipped the balance? She didn’t feel guilty about preventing a bad marriage, yet she had a horrible feeling that she’d done something wrong.
There’s no sense borrowing trouble.
Recalling Aunt Margaret’s sage advice usually made her feel better, but not this time.
Nick returned with a rain-drenched bouquet in his hand. “Found this outside.”
Maggie’s heart sank. “What are you going to do?”
He tossed the soggy mess onto a table. “Guess I’ll start by telling everyone there isn’t going to be a wedding.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Maggie asked. Please say no, she thought. She didn’t want to be in the same room as Mrs. Durrance when Nick delivered that news.
“No. Stay here with Allison.” He released a heavy sigh and headed back out the door.
“Leslie will never live this down,” Allison said. “Maybe your secret little makeover project should have included the whole Durrance family instead of just Nick.”
“Ssshhh!” Maggie glanced across the room and cringed.
Nick was back, looming in the doorway. His face, which a moment ago had shown so much concern for his sister, was overwritten by stunned disbelief.
On second thought, make that anger.
“What did you say?” he asked Allison.
She laughed nervously, as if trying to brush aside her thoughtless comment. “Don’t take everything so seriously, Nick. It was a joke.”
He clearly wasn’t buying it. He turned on Maggie. “A ‘project’? What is that supposed to mean?”
Her sixth sense had let her down this time. She had never imagined that Allison would let that slip out and she was completely unprepared for Nick’s anger. “I know it sounds bad—”
“Sounds bad? It is bad. People aren’t like hous
es. You don’t get to renovate them into...” He hesitated, as though he was trying to figure out what she wanted him to be.
“If you’ll let me explain, you’ll see that I wasn’t trying to make you into anything. I love you just the way you are. I only want you to be happy.”
He stared at her, and during those few seconds, Maggie clung to her last remaining hope.
“Do I look happy?” he asked finally.
She shook her head, unable to speak. Don’t let them see you cry, she said to herself. Don’t let them see you cry.
“As if this day wasn’t already bad enough, I find out that you told her—” he paused and waved an arm at Allison “—her, of all people, that I’m some kind of project. Welcome to Collingwood Station.” He practically shouted it. “You’re going to fit right in with the rest of the busybodies in this town.”
Allison hustled her children out of the room. Maggie clutched the lapels of Nick’s jacket, desperate to make him understand. “I wasn’t meddling, I was trying to help.”
That only seemed to make him even angrier. “Did I ask for your help?”
She shook her head, not exactly sure what she needed to say to fix this. “You don’t understand. I don’t see how you can blame me for something Allison said—”
“You don’t see how I can blame you? Why doesn’t that surprise me? Maybe you should talk this over with your dead aunt or read your horoscope or...or go gaze into your crystal ball. Maybe that’ll help you figure out why you should mind your own business and stay out of mine.”
“I don’t have a crystal ball.”
“Ahhhh! You just don’t get it, do you?” His hands wrapped around her wrists. His touch was gentle, and for a moment she thought he’d started to calm down. Then he let go and stepped back. “I have to go call off a wedding.”
He left the room before she had a chance to respond.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MAGGIE FUMBLED HER way into a chair. Half an hour ago, everything had been perfect. She had finally fallen in love with a man who’d wanted to be with her, too, but in typical Maggie Meadowcroft style, she’d blown it.
