A Cottage Wedding (A Heart's Landing Novel from Hallmark Publishing)

by Leigh Duncan

  He’d tinkered with the schedule enough that it was etched in his brain. “Regina Charm is due to arrive late Friday, but I’ve been warned that she likes her little surprises, so we’ll start watching for her first thing. We have the big reception that evening—the mayor and business owners from town will be here. You’ll want to dress for the occasion.” Evelyn’s usual jeans and a T-shirt weren’t going to pass muster. “Then, there’s the Smith wedding on Wednesday night and the pageant next Saturday.”

  “Okay. We’re doing the whole Mary-and-the-Captain routine for those?”

  “Yeah.” The two of them often received standing ovations when, dressed to the nines as Captain Thaddeus and Mary Heart, they performed at weddings. Jason snapped his fingers. In preparation for Clarissa’s arrival, he’d had a replica of Mary’s gown cleaned and pressed and hung in the closet of the guest suite in the family wing. He waited a beat, half expecting the searing heartache he’d heard others talk about after their love lives shipwrecked. When the only thing that hurt was his pride, he winced. He and Clarissa hadn’t had the kind of love that would last a lifetime. He could see that now. He probably ought to be thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t proposed to her, but he couldn’t help wondering when—or if—he’d ever fall in love.

  “You were saying?”

  Evelyn’s voice reminded him that life went on. “Would you mind grabbing the dress from the Opal room?”

  “Sure. No problem.” Evelyn swung her feet to the floor. “Why don’t I get my notebook, and we can go over everything in detail, just to make sure I’m up to speed. We can work over lunch. I’ll order in. Do you want anything special?”

  “Nah. Whatever you get is fine. As long as it’s not a Craigen sub.” He paused to mentally cross an item off his list of favorites. He’d never eat another one of those as long as he lived.

  Chapter Four

  “Next stop, Heart’s Landing. Heart’s Landing, next stop.” In a black suit and vest, a short-billed hat clamped on his head, the train conductor rocked from side-to-side, making his way down the aisle of the coach car.

  Eager for her first glimpse of the town, Tara looked up from her laptop. Her back ached from sitting hunched over for so long, but she hadn’t wanted to disturb her sleeping seat mate so, other than a quick foray to the dining car, she’d worked the entire seven-hour trip.

  Too bad corporate credit cards were off limits to junior reporters—even ones on important, secret missions. Otherwise, she could have rented a car and gotten here in half the time. She rolled her shoulders and flexed her toes. It was just as well. Relying on public transportation would allow her to take a closer look at the services Heart’s Landing provided.

  She powered down the laptop that had put itself to sleep again and slipped it into the carry case at her feet. Beyond the window, fields and low stone fences gave way to Cathedral Heights, a neighborhood of tidy houses that boasted more than the usual amount of gingerbread trim. In the distance, a church spire soared above slate-roofed buildings. Slowing, the train rolled through a street crossing at Boutonniere Drive. They crawled past Procession and Honeymoon Avenues. At last, with a screech of brakes, the car rocked to a stop at the Champagne Avenue Station. Tara grabbed her backpack and purse, slung her camera bag over one shoulder, and edged past the woman who snored softly in the next seat.

  On the loading platform, she snapped a couple of quick pictures while she drank in warm, fresh air that carried the faintest trace of the ocean and brought back a flood of memories. Her parents had packed up the SUV and driven from their Savannah home to Tybee Island nearly every weekend through the summer and, most years, well into the fall. But it had been too long since she’d been close enough to the beach to get her feet wet. The smell of Heart’s Landing reminded her of the long walks she used to take along the shore. She could use one of those right now to work out the kinks after spending the trip researching everything she could find online about Captain Thaddeus Heart. She made her way to the luggage rack, where she traded a baggage claim for her suitcase. Lugging her bags, she headed for the small train station.

  She remained on the lookout for anything that might lower Heart’s Landing’s score in the competition, but she couldn’t find fault with the cute hearts and flowers that adorned the door handle. Nor with the string of hearts that lined a cheery wallpaper border above freshly painted mint-colored walls.

  “Excuse me,” she said, stepping to the window where a lone clerk sat behind a glassed-in counter. “Where can I get a cab?” This wasn’t New York City, after all, where hailing a taxi was as simple as raising her arm.

  “You headed to the Union Street Bed and Breakfast, are ya? Marybeth and Matt will send a van to get you.” Inquisitive brown eyes took her measure as the clerk waited a beat. “Or there’s a shuttle that’ll take you to the hotels on the north side of town. It runs every hour on the hour.” With a glance at the clock, she added, “The next one will be here in ten minutes.”

  Tara smiled, soothed by the rounded vowels and softened R’s of the clerk’s accent. It was nice to get a real answer to her question, too. She’d grown used to abrupt replies in bustling New York, when people deigned to answer at all. “I appreciate that, but I’m not going to either of those places. I’m headed to the Captain’s Cottage.”

  The clerk aimed a quizzical look at her ringless finger. “Newly engaged, are ya? If you’re planning to hold your wedding there, you couldn’t find a more beautiful setting. Is Alicia expecting you? She and her assistant Jennifer schedule all the events at the Cottage. You just tell them Georgia sent you.” The clerk brushed a finger under her name tag. “They’ll give you the VIP treatment.” Georgia smothered a laugh with one hand. “That’s a little joke. All our brides receive the VIP treatment. Do you need some place to store your bags during your appointment? I’d be happy to keep them here if you’d like.” Still talking a mile a minute, Georgia half rose from her chair.

  “Thanks for the offer, but it won’t be necessary.” Tara waved the clerk back into her seat. “I’m staying there while I’m in town.”

  “Hmmm. Are you sure? They don’t normally have overnight guests. Unless…” Georgia canted her head. Her expressive brown eyes grew even warmer. “You’re Clarissa, aren’t you? Oh, my! The whole town’s been dying to meet you.”

  “Um, no. I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else.”

  “You aren’t Jason’s sweetheart?” Disappointment pooled in the woman’s eyes.

  “Jason Heart?” The owner of the Captain’s Cottage. Tara had found several references to Thaddeus’s great-great-great-grandson during her research. “I’m afraid not, but I am meeting with him.”

  “That’s too bad. For a minute there, I thought I’d be the first one to welcome her to Heart’s Landing. But I guess not. Now, where were we?”

  “About that cab?” Tara brushed a hand through her hair. The conversation with Georgia had taken so many turns, she’d almost forgotten what brought her to the clerk’s window.

  “Oh, yes. Sorry about that. Let’s see. With all the hotels and the bed and breakfasts providing transportation for their guests, taxi drivers don’t normally meet the trains. But I’d be happy to call one for you.”

  “That’d be great. I appreciate it.” Tara adjusted her purse strap at her shoulder. She hadn’t planned on having to play twenty questions in order to get a simple cab ride across town, but she had to admit, it’d been nice to talk to someone who delivered customer service with interest and a smile.

  “There’s a bench outside the station. If you want to wait there, someone will be along in just a few minutes. Meantime, can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”

  The woman took going above and beyond to such a high level, Tara almost regretted turning her down. But she’d grabbed a bite in the dining car at lunch. As for something to drink, she had a bottle of water in her purse. Her suitcase rolling along
behind her, she waved goodbye to Georgia and stepped smartly toward the door. Outside, a light breeze brought another breath of salt-laden air. Low-growing plants with fragrant pink and white blossoms filled nearby flower beds. Their perfume scented the air while she lingered by her bags.

  Sure enough, not five minutes later, a yellow cab pulled to the curb. Tara barely had a chance to gather her things before a gangly young man doffed his cap her way. “I’m Chuck. You the lady who called for a ride?” Given the decided lack of other passengers standing about, he didn’t wait for a reply but hefted her suitcase. In seconds, he’d lowered it gently into the trunk of the idling taxi and held the door open for her. “Where are we headed?” he asked as Tara slid onto the back seat.

  “The Captain’s Cottage.” She braced herself for another round of questions, but Chuck merely shrugged and climbed in behind the wheel.

  “Welcome to Heart’s Landing, America’s Top Wedding Destination. Are there any stops you’d like to make along the way?”

  “No, but I’d appreciate it if you took your time. I want to take it all in.” Tara glanced out the window and frowned. How she was supposed to criticize tree-lined streets, buildings etched with hearts and flowers, and quaint houses that nearly bent beneath gingerbread trim, she didn’t know.

  “This is your first trip to Heart’s Landing, then?” Pulling away from the train station, Chuck turned east onto Champagne Avenue. He gestured toward a two-story building where cedar siding had aged to a burnished silver. “That’s the Union Street Bed and Breakfast. You can’t go wrong staying there. Marybeth and Matt take real good care of their guests.”

  Tara noted the pristine white picket fence and the bright blossoms that spilled from window boxes. She’d be hard-pressed to say anything negative about the exterior of the inviting building. If the interior was as well-maintained, she’d consider staying there on her next trip to Heart’s Landing. If there was another trip, she corrected. Once Weddings Today published her article, she doubted anyone in town would welcome her with open arms.

  “Since this is your first visit here, I’ll give you the nickel tour. On the house.” Chuck leaned forward and shut off the meter. At the next intersection, he pointed to a statue in a pocket park. “That’s Captain Thaddeus Heart. He founded Heart’s Landing in the 1800s. There’s a plaque at the base of the statue that tells all about him. You should check it out if you have the time.” Pointing out other places of interest, he wove up and down city streets. Festive signs in front of buildings offered everything imaginable in the way of wedding supplies and services. At the end of the street, he turned onto Officiant Way.

  “Captain Thaddeus sailed the trade routes between here and Europe for a dozen years or more. Each summer, he’d return home in time for his wife’s birthday. The place where his ship put in is north of here, called Heart’s Cove.” He pointed to a bike path that followed the rocky coastline. “Makes a nice, scenic ride, if you’re inclined.”

  Tara crossed her fingers and hoped there’d be time for a trip to the beach while she was in town. The only time she’d taken the train from Penn Station to Long Island, one glimpse of people sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the sand had been enough to send her back to the station without even dipping her toes into the water. Here, though, only a few umbrellas dotted the wide, empty beach, and birds, rather than people, darted among the waves.

  A little farther down the road, Chuck headed north on Bridal Carriage Way. “This is the center of Heart’s Landing. Anywhere else, it’d probably be called Main Street. But we stick to a wedding theme.”

  “I can see that.”

  “As they say, when you got it, flaunt it. And we got weddings.”

  Appreciating the humor, Tara smiled broadly into the rear view mirror while the driver rolled past restaurants and stores. Hand-in-hand, couples roamed the tree-shaded sidewalks, ducking in and out of shops with whimsical names like Something Old/Something New, I Do Cakes, and Forget Me Knot Flowers. Everywhere Tara looked, fresh paint glowed from the trim on red brick buildings. Bright awnings beckoned shoppers to linger at display windows. Asters, tiny pink roses, and milkweed dripped from window boxes. Steeplebush and day lilies sprang from strategically placed pots, brightening the streets with dashes of color. The town was every bit as picturesque as her research had indicated. In fact, it was better than she’d expected, and her lips tightened. Regina had been right. It’d be tough to find anything wrong with Heart’s Landing.

  Despite a green light, Chuck idled at Procession. Tara caught the faint sound of jangling metal, which grew louder as a pair of high-stepping horses pulled into view. From his seat on the white carriage behind them, a driver in black livery doffed his hat. A bride decked out in her wedding finery smiled out from plush, red-velvet cushions. Chuck returned the gesture with a friendly wave.

  “The driver’s Tom Denton. He’s a good friend. They’re headed to the church at the end of the block,” he explained. “From there, he’ll take the lucky couple to their reception. Which might very well be at the Captain’s Cottage. We’ll head there now so we don’t end up photo bombing any of the wedding photos.”

  With that, Chuck turned onto Procession. At the end of the long street sat the fabled Captain’s Cottage. Tara sucked in a breath. Impressive in pictures, the mansion looked absolutely gorgeous with the late-afternoon sun glinting off the pristine masonry. She struggled to take in the details, but there was so much to see, she didn’t know where to look first. Blooming azaleas in bright reds, pinks, and whites peppered the lawn and perfumed the air with a spicy scent. Clusters of weeping willows dripped gracefully over a stream. Neatly trimmed hedges followed the curving driveway to a porte cochere deep enough to accommodate several arriving vehicles.

  Chuck braked to a stop at the foot of wide steps that led to massive double-doors. “This is the end of the ride. Your fare will pop up on the card reader. Cash or credit is fine. There are business cards in the seat pocket. Take a couple. I’d be happy to take you anywhere you need to go while you’re here.”

  With a swipe of her credit card, she balanced the ridiculously small bill with a generous tip. By time she retrieved the receipt, Chuck had toted her luggage up the steps and left her bags inside the front door. He returned to offer a hand while she exited the vehicle. She smiled at him. “Thank you for a wonderful tour.” She tapped her purse. “I have your card. You’ll probably hear from me again soon.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” And with that, he was off, heading for the main road and presumably his next fare.

  Tara peered up at the three-story house that had once been home to a seafaring captain, his wife, and their thirteen children. With its large, airy veranda and wings that spread out in different directions, the Cottage was certainly large enough to accommodate such a big family. Which was ironic, considering that an influenza outbreak in the 1890s had nearly wiped out the entire Heart clan. However, according to her research, a direct line of Thaddeus’s descendants had called the Captain’s Cottage their home for generations. Fifty years ago, things had changed when the captain’s great-great-grandson had capitalized on the town’s growing reputation and had turned the estate into one of the most popular wedding venues on the East Coast.

  Her flats made soft, scuffing noises on the steps. Wishing she’d taken the time to change out of her travel clothes and into something a little more refined and appropriate for visiting such a lovely place, she stepped through the front door into the roomy foyer of a house that had known tender care for more than a century. She sniffed, inhaling a light, citrusy scent mixed with linseed oil. A larger-than-life portrait of Captain Thaddeus looked down on her from the wall across from the entrance. Though she’d seen the image in books, she took a moment to study the painting. From his feathered hat to his pointed shoes, he cut an impressive figure, but his face captured her attention. A pair of intelligent-looking eyes stared out from beneath thick brows. High cheekbone
s and skin lined by the sun and the wind surrounded a Grecian nose and finely drawn lips. Below, a square chin led to a jaw as well defined and straight-edged as the rest of him. The artist had posed the captain at the helm of his ship and had managed to capture him so much at ease that she could practically feel the salt spray or hear the wind whistling in the rigging and the cries of seabirds on the hunt for food.

  The artwork was beyond intriguing. She could have stood there all day admiring it, but the rest of the house beckoned. Wide corridors stretched to the left and right. With an imaginary flip of a coin, she headed left. She hoped to ask directions to Jason Heart’s office, but no one lingered at the coffee pots that stood on an elaborate sideboard in the dining room. A little farther down the hall, two sets of wide double-doors opened into a spacious ballroom. Massive chandeliers dripped crystals like icicles over what must have been an acre of hardwood floors. She felt a ping of disappointment that preparations for a wedding weren’t underway, but the tall tables scattered throughout the room reminded her more of cocktail parties and casual gatherings. Leaving the ballroom, she moved forward, the soles of her shoes sounding loud in the empty corridor.

  Where was everyone? Sure, no one was expecting her—she had, after all, followed Regina’s orders and arrived a full day early. But the entire Captain’s Cottage couldn’t be sitting empty on a Thursday afternoon. Could it?

  She poked her head into several other vacant rooms before a sharp right turn took her to a corridor with doors opening onto offices. A tasteful sign mounted by the first one on the left announced that it belonged to Alicia Thorn, Event Coordinator. Pens neatly arranged in a holder, a single tablet of paper, and a computer monitor sat on the well-organized desk. On the wall, today’s date had been X’d out on a calendar that tracked weddings and appointments. Beginning to wonder if she’d need to call Chuck and have him drive her to a hotel after all, Tara moved on.