Third Time's the Bride!

by Merline Lovelace

  “It doesn’t matter,” Callie said with determined calm. “She’ll be right back.”

  * * *

  Brian returned just before 2:00 p.m. He took the flagstone walk to the gatehouse, intending to relay the success of his mission to Dawn before corralling his son and hauling him back to the main house to scrub down and dress up.

  He spotted Tommy demonstrating his cartwheeling skills to Travis in the small square of lawn between the gazebo and the rows of chairs lined up with military precision. Kate, Callie and Dawn’s mother he found in the sun-filled breakfast nook. Seeing them seated shoulder to shoulder around the small table provided the first hint something was wrong. The double old-fashioned glass clutched in his prospective mother-in-law’s fist provided another.

  “Where’s Dawn?”

  Their answering looks ran the gamut from carefully neutral to a fake innocence to plainly worried.

  “She said she forgot to get a grooming brush for the puppy, so she zipped over to the pet store in the mall,” Callie replied.

  “When?”

  Callie glanced away, Kate bit her lip and Maureen took a hasty gulp of what looked like scotch, straight up.

  “Two hours ago,” Kate finally answered.

  Brian extracted his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “The mall’s a zoo on Saturdays. She probably had to circle the parking lot a half dozen times before she could find a parking spot. I’d better call and remind her of the time.”

  “We tried that.” Kate jerked her chin at the counter. “She forgot her phone.”

  Brian glanced at the rhinestone-studded case, then back at the three women. He’d had enough experience dealing with people of all types to see the worry and doubt they were trying so hard to conceal.

  “Oh, well,” he said with a deliberately casual shrug, “she’ll get back when she gets back. Meantime, I’ve got puppy love all over my chin and cheeks. I’d better corral Tommy so we can both clean up.”

  * * *

  Brian refused, flat ass refused, to believe Dawn had skipped out on him. She had her share of faults; she’d be the first to admit that. But cowardice wasn’t one of them. If she’d changed her mind about this marriage, he told himself fiercely as he showered, she’d tell him so to his face.

  And even if she had decided she wanted out, he thought grimly as he scraped a razor down his cheek, there was no way in hell she’d just take a powder and leave Tommy without a word of goodbye. Still, his stomach felt increasingly hollow as he got into his suit and tie.

  Before going to check on his son’s progress, he glanced around the room he’d shared with Caroline. He’d removed the items that bore her more personal stamp. The sachet bag in her underwear drawer that still held the faint scent of roses after all these years. The tacky little Kewpie doll she’d won in a ring toss at a fair the first year of their marriage. The photo of her and Tommy that had held a place of honor on his nightstand.

  The Kewpie doll now sat on a shelf in his son’s room, and the photo had been transferred from its frame to the breathtakingly beautiful album Dawn had designed for Tommy.

  She’d sounded so sincere, so confident that there was more than enough room in Brian’s heart for Caroline and her. Yet, glancing around the bedroom, he couldn’t help wishing he’d insisted they make some changes to the house before their wedding instead of after. New furniture, new linens, new pictures and knickknacks. Or they could’ve knocked out the wall between the guest rooms and the upstairs office and enlarged the master suite. Or moved out completely and made a new start in a new home, as he’d contemplated more than once in the past five years.

  Hell! Too late to worry about that now. His immediate priority was to put a wedding band on his bride’s finger.

  With that intent firmly in mind, he headed for his son’s room. He found him on a step stool in his bathroom, squinting into the mirror and struggling with his new tie. He’d picked it out himself, he’d informed Brian. With Dawn’s help. Her eyes dancing, she’d assured Brian that glowing, neon dinosaurs added the perfect touch to the festivities.

  “Hey, bud. Need help with that?”

  “I kin do it.”

  He said nothing as Tommy’s chin jutted out a little more with each failed attempt to make a knot.

  “Ties are stupid,” his son muttered, yanking the ends free to start over again. “Why do guys wear ’em, anyway?”

  Brian dredged his memory for a bit of arcane trivia he’d picked up during his stint in the marines. “They originally had a military purpose. Remember the man dressed as a centurion at the Colosseum in Rome? You couldn’t see it, but I suspect he’d wrapped a linen cloth around his neck to keep his armor from chafing. It would keep him warm, too, when he had to trudge through mountain passes.”

  “This skinny thing wouldn’t keep me warm,” Tommy groused.

  “True, but styles of neck cloths and cravats changed greatly over the centuries until we got stuck with what we have today. No, loop that end under. Now through. There! You’ve got it.”

  His scowl gone, Tommy breamed at himself in the mirror while Brian nobly refrained from offering to straighten the lopsided knot. He did make a few swipes with a comb before Tommy hopped off the footstool. After being helped into his suit coat, his son had to take another few moments to preen, this time in the full-length mirror behind his door.

  “You look pretty slick, bud.”

  “I know,” Tommy agreed with a smug grin. “You look good, too,” he added magnanimously. “Just wait’ll Dawn sees us. Like Addy says, she’s gonna wig out.”

  Brian hoped so. God, he hoped so!

  Keeping his smile easy, he glanced at his watch as he accompanied Tommy downstairs. Two forty. Still a good half hour or more until their guests began to arrive.

  Murmurs of conversation drew them to the den, where they found the other members of the wedding party. Travis had used the downstairs study to change out of his jeans and well-worn bomber jacket. He’d been pleased and flattered when asked to fly backup to Tommy as groomsman. No flattery involved, Brian had insisted. Only a bone-deep gratitude to the air force pilot for bringing Dawn into his and Tommy’s life.

  His bride’s best friends had changed, as well. Kate’s hair was a cascade of blond curls, her face grimly cheerful above the rolled neckline of her rich, russet-colored dress. Callie wore a gold jacket and deep, burnt-orange sheath that made Brian think instantly of pumpkins and wood smoke. He would’ve appreciated the serene picture she presented if tight little lines hadn’t formed on either side of her mouth.

  His prospective mother-in-law, on the other hand, made no pretense of appearing either cheerful or serene. Her fist was still wrapped around a double highball glass—recently refilled, judging by the amber liquid reaching halfway to its rim. Brian and Tommy were barely into the den before she blurted out a worried report.

  “She’s not back.”

  He aimed a cool look in her direction. “She will be.”

  “She’s been gone for three hours!”

  “Who’s gone?” Tommy wanted to know, taking a quick look around. “Is she talking about Dawn?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “She’s not gone,” he stated with utter assurance. “She’s hiding.”

  Like bullets sprayed from AK-47s, questions flew at him from all sides.

  “What?”

  “Where?”

  “Did she call you?”

  “Why’s she hiding?”

  Blinking at the barrage, he took a step back. “I... Uh...”

  Brian smothered a quick oath and raised a hand as a signal to the others to back off.

  “Why’s Dawn hiding?” he asked, keeping his voice calm and even.

  “It’s tradition. ’Member, Dad? You told me about it. We’re not s’posed to see th
e bride before the wedding.”

  That was it. That had to be it. Brian was still trying to convince himself as his son screwed up his face and made a quick clarification.

  “I know Dawn ’n us had grilled cheese samwiches together at lunch. But that doesn’t count ’cause we weren’t dressed up or anything.”

  * * *

  No one, not even Dawn’s mother, had the heart to burst Tommy’s bubble. But even the boy’s confidence slipped as the house began to fill with guests.

  LauraBeth, her husband and two of their four sons were the first to arrive. She cast a quick eye over the garden and buffet and spoke a few words to the servers circulating with trays of prewedding refreshments before giving her boss and his son warm hugs. Brian’s bland smile didn’t fool her for an instant. She pried the story out of him in thirty seconds flat.

  Dawn’s father and brother rang the bell next. Maureen cornered them the moment they walked through the door. The three McGills were still huddled in a tight, anxious group when the minister from Brian and Tommy’s church arrived.

  The Caruthers family arrived a few moments later and provided a welcome distraction for an increasingly worried Tommy. His little friend Cindy looked as though she would burst trying to keep in the secret of the puppy. Repeated knuckle thumps from her brother earned him nasty looks but kept the secret intact.

  Brian’s parents drove up at the same time as Caroline’s. After a round of fierce hugs, Caroline’s mother caught Brian’s arm and pulled him aside for a low, intensely personal colloquy.

  “I’m so glad you found Dawn,” she said, framing his face with both palms. “Tommy raves about her every time we talk to him. You were a wonderful husband to my daughter. You deserve every bit of happiness your new love can bring you.”

  His throat suddenly raw and tight, Brian folded her in a ferocious hug.

  “Enough of this,” Caroline’s mom said, sniffling. “Are those Dawn’s parents? Why don’t you introduce your former in-laws to your prospective in-laws?”

  “You and Jerry will never be ‘former’ anything,” Brian assured her gruffly before complying with the request. To his surprise and considerable relief, Dawn’s mother smoothed the lines etched deep in her brow. She even managed to include her former husband in her acknowledgment of their daughter’s most stellar traits.

  “She gets those laughing Irish eyes from me,” Maureen said, her own eyes holding a hint of a smile as they turned to her ex. “She gets her artistic flair, such as it is, from her father.”

  Before Dawn’s startled father could recover from that faint praise, the doorbell rang again. Brian had his game face on when he greeted Joe Russo and Carlo di Lorenzo, but he’d shared too many tense hours with these men—and too much of the produce from Carlo’s family vineyard—to pull off a smiling facade.

  After a pointed exchange of glances, Carlo and Joe maneuvered Brian to a quiet corner. A jerk of Carlo’s chin brought Travis over to join them. Sequestered from the crowd, Joe cut right to the point.

  “All right, Ellis. What’s going on?”

  Brian didn’t even try to dissemble. “Dawn left to run an errand a little past eleven this morning. We haven’t heard from her since.” His Adam’s apple worked. “I’m worried she may have been in an accident. Can you have your people run a check of every hospital in the area, Joe?”

  Russo had already whipped out his cell phone. “Consider it done. I’ll also have them check with the police.”

  Mere seconds later, he connected to his command center and relayed the basics. “Dawn McGill. We ran a background check on her a few weeks ago. Right,” he said after a few moments. “Red hair. Green eyes. Five foot seven. One-fifteen or thereabouts. No tattoos. Other distinguishing marks or characteristics...”

  He looked to Brian, brows raised.

  “A small, round birthmark on her inner thigh. And different-colored polish on her toenails. Hey,” he said in response to three surprised looks, “I think it’s distinguishing.”

  Brows still elevated, Joe barked out another question. “What was she driving?”

  “Her red Mustang.”

  “Year?”

  “2013.”

  The terse reply came from Kate, who’d drifted over to infiltrate the all-male enclave.

  “Dawn bought it used,” she informed the men, “but she’d wipe off every bit of bird poop or rain spot the moment they hit.”

  Joe relayed the information, then told the person on the line to hold. “Where was she headed when she left the house?”

  “To the pet store at the mall.”

  His scarred face went blank. “A pet store?”

  “Long story,” Brian said impatiently, “and not important.”

  Joe conceded the point with a look that said they’d come back to it later if necessary and turned to Kate. “What mall was she going to?”

  “The closest one, I assume.”

  “Never assume anything.”

  The security expert looked grim enough under normal circumstances. When his mouth tightened and the scar running from his cheek to his chin thinned to a red, angry line, he could make anyone back up a pace or two.

  “Which mall?” he asked again.

  “I... Uh...” Gulping, Kate managed to stand her ground. Barely. “I don’t know.”

  “Does Callie?”

  “I don’t think so...” She stopped, her cheeks flushing. “She might.”

  Spinning, she caught her friend’s attention and hooked a finger. Callie murmured polite excuses to the minister and joined their small group. At her questioning glance, Joe held up his phone.

  “I’ve got the head of my domestic investigations division on the line. He’s going to track Dawn. Do you know which mall she was going to?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  “What was she wearing when she left the house?”

  “Jeans and... Oh, God!”

  Like a digital portrait suddenly washed of all color, Callie’s face went dead white. She reached out, took Kate’s hand in a bone-crushing grip and turned an agonized look on Brian.

  “You think she’s been in an accident?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to rule out,” he answered evenly. “Can you remember what she was wearing?”

  Callie’s stomach must have been churning with the same fear now pumping acid into Brian’s, but he had to admire the way she pulled herself together. She dragged in a steadying breath and locked her eyes on Joe.

  “She was wearing jeans. A long-sleeved black top. A bulky, cream-colored cardigan with oversize brown buttons.”

  Joe flashed her an approving glance and relayed the information. “Right,” he said after a brief pause. “All the hospitals. DC, Virginia and Maryland. Get back to me ASAP.”

  When he cut the connection, a vicious onslaught of memories hit Brian. Ambulances. Emergency rooms. The oncologists who’d pored over Caroline’s scans. The nurses who’d administered ever increasing dosages of morphine. The physical therapists who’d showed him how to turn his wife to prevent bedsores, how to exercise her arms and legs when she’d lost the ability to move them herself.

  His gut twisting, he shoved the memories out of his head. This was about Dawn. Only Dawn. He started to ask Joe what else they could do, but Carlo beat him to the punch.

  “Joe will find her,” the prince assured Kate and Callie. “He is the best, yes? Travis and I learned this firsthand, when we and our crews flew in to rescue the newsmen captured by Boko Haram.” The prince screwed up his face, his lips thin under his mustache. “Our military intel completely underestimated the rebels’ strength. If not for the flash update Joe’s people sent, we would not have gotten off the ground before the bastards overran the airstrip.”

  Kate had heard a brief recount of the near-fatal disaster
in Italy. The retelling tripled her relief that her husband, at least, wouldn’t be flying in and out of dirt airstrips under a hail of enemy fire.

  “While your people are doing their thing,” she said to Joe, “what can we do?”

  He looked over her shoulder. “You can head them off at the pass.”

  Kate turned and groaned when she saw the McGill clan bearing down on them like avenging angels. She moved to intercept them, but Maureen dodged around her.

  Her voice was sharp and brittle as she quizzed Joe. “We saw you on the phone. Was that Dawn you were speaking to? Where is she? Has she pulled another disappearing act?”

  “No, that wasn’t Dawn. And no, I don’t know where she is. But I assure you she hasn’t pulled a disappearing act.”

  “How do you know?”

  Her fierce demand rang through the room. Brian glanced at his son, saw Tommy’s face begin to pucker and forced a calm he was far from feeling.

  “Let me ask you this, Mrs. McGill. Did Dawn just ‘disappear’ before? Or did she tell you that she’d changed her mind?”

  “She told us, but...”

  “All of you? Including her fiancés?”

  “Of course! My husband...” She caught herself and made a quick correction. “My ex-husband and I may have had our differences over the years...”

  “May have had?”

  Kate’s disbelieving snort brought Dawn’s dad forward to take the flack.

  “It’s true. We provided the worst possible example for our kids.” Sadness and regret rippled across his lined face as he reached out and gripped his former wife’s hand. Startled, Maureen glanced down, but made only a feeble attempt to pull away.

  “If Dawn learned nothing else from our years of fighting,” he continued, “it was to admit her mistakes. She, at least, had the courage to face the two men she thought she was in love with, tell them the truth and get on with her life.”

  His glance shifted from Brian to Tommy. A smile creased his worn cheeks. “Dawn told me this time is for real. No doubts, no worries, no last-minute realization that she’d misjudged her heart. She loves you, son. You and your dad. You two are all she wants in this...”