The sound of his deep voice sent a tickle of warmth along her nerves. “No. I was just enjoying a quiet day. What about you? Are you working?”
“Yes, but I’m done for the day. Which is why I’m calling. The restaurant will be closing shortly and the chef has promised me my own personal Thanksgiving dinner. There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t want to eat alone. I know it’s short notice, but I’d be eternally grateful. This is a family holiday, and since neither one of us have family here, I was hoping you’d take pity on me and join me.”
Refusal touched the tip of her tongue, but for some reason she clamped her mouth shut. She’d been given a second chance to make Micah feel welcome. And the 1818 Restaurant at Monmouth served the most elegant, exquisite feast in the South. But spending time with Micah would only dredge up more painful memories.
“Did I mention that we’ll be served in the study off the Quitman Lounge? It’ll be just the two of us. I could really use some downtime with a friend.”
She’d worked in the hospitality industry long enough to know that feeling. Constant activity, always putting out fires, being “on” for the guests, then suddenly it was over and you were left feeling lost and forgotten. But Thanksgiving with a friend did sound inviting. “All right. What time?”
“Half hour, and wear something comfortable. I want this to be relaxing for both of us. I’ll see you soon.”
Nervousness and regret churned in Wreath’s stomach as she made her way up the sloping walk from the parking lot to the two-story brick office building. She’d talked herself out of coming twice since she’d talked to Micah. Picked up the phone three times. She looked forward to a sumptuous meal at Monmouth, but dining alone with Micah seemed too intimate and romantic.
Micah stepped from the door of the office building as she came near. He must have been watching for her. He looked elegantly handsome in dark gray slacks, a cream-colored crew neck sweater over a light blue shirt. One glance at him eased her concerns. She had nothing to fear from Micah. He was a nice, comfortable man.
“Thanks for coming, Wreath. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
“That would be impossible. I have tasted Chef Ruth’s food many times.”
“Then let’s go.” He held out his hand and smiled.
Wreath hesitated a moment at the look in his eyes. It was admiring. Surely she’d imagined that. It was simply gratitude for dining with him. She slipped her hand into his and started toward the east wing of the house, across the courtyard, aware of a strange tingling in her fingers. Micah’s hand was firm and strong, a hand you could depend on.
“You look lovely.”
Wreath glanced down at her attire. “You said dress casual. I hope jeans and a sweater are all right.”
“Perfect. Lavender is my favorite color.”
Chef Ruth met them at the door. “Good evening, Micah. Wreath. I have everything ready for you.”
Wreath glanced at Micah. “So formal.” He laughed. The deep-throated sound skittered along her nerves. She remembered his laugh. It had been one of the things she’d found attractive about him. The chef ushered them into the small, elegant room to a single table by the fireplace, set with white linen, crystal goblets, and fine china. Micah pulled out her chair then seated himself.
Wreath smiled at him. Always the perfect gentleman. She felt her tension ease, replaced with an unfamiliar sense of peace. “I think this is exactly what I needed, Micah. A quiet dinner with a friend. Thank you.” She saw a small shadow pass across his face.
“I appreciate you coming to my rescue. I love what I do, but the odd hours can take a toll. Especially on holidays when you’re new in town.”
The first of their courses arrived: gumbo with duck, andouille sausage, and basmati rice. They ate in companionable silence, enjoying the elegant atmosphere.
Micah uttered a soft, appreciative moan when he took a bite of the main course. Cajun fried turkey with cranberry chutney. He smiled over at her. “Not exactly Mom’s but still delicious.”
“I’ll bet your family misses you. I remember how close y’all were.” She searched her memory. “Two brothers, one sister, right?”
Micah smiled. “Right. They were disappointed, but I promised I’d make it home for Groundhog Day.”
A giggle escaped her throat before she could stop it. “Are you serious? Nobody celebrates that day.”
“Exactly. That’s why we try and get together then. With all our different schedules and responsibilities, the only way to get time off is to pick an odd day. We try and cram that weekend full of family time. It’s like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and birthdays all rolled into one.”
Wreath chuckled. She’d forgotten how funny Micah could be. “Sounds like fun.”
“It is. I’d love to take you with me, let you experience it for yourself.”
Was he inviting her home to meet his family? Surely not. She focused on her meal, ignoring his comment. “I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you whenever you come home.”
“What about your family, Wreath?”
She speared a bite of her green-bean casserole, uneasy with the topic. “My mom died a few years ago. My Aunt Julia and Uncle Bob retired to the Florida Keys.”
“So you’re all alone. That’s tough.”
“I’m used to it. Besides, running my own business keeps me too busy to think about much else.” That wasn’t exactly true. Lately she’d been feeling the loneliness more than usual, and she wasn’t sure why. Nothing had changed, but she’d found herself wanting more than work and her church activities.
“So no boyfriend in the picture?”
Wreath met Micah’s blue gaze. She thought she saw a glint of anticipation there. She shook her head. “My almost-wedding cured me of any romantic ideas. Love and romance is for my clients. God has given me so much more than I ever dreamed. I don’t want to be greedy and ask for more.”
He looked at her over his glass. “God doesn’t ration His blessings, Wreath. Don’t shortchange yourself. He has many more blessings He’s waiting to give you. As for the romance, you’ll find it again.”
“Not likely.” She masked her discomfort by taking a sip of her sweet tea. “How about you? No fiancée, girlfriend?”
“Not at the moment. So how did you end up being a wedding consultant? It seems an unlikely career path, considering.”
“I suppose so. My Aunt Julia started the business. I was named for her company. The Wedding Wreath. She came up with a design using the wreath, the symbol of forever, making it out of white material and using it in the wedding ceremony. It was quite innovative for its time. Now it’s become the symbol of the business.”
“So you took over the business when they retired?”
“Yes, but I worked with them for a year before that learning the ropes. The timing was perfect. I needed a new direction for my life after…well, after you know…and my aunt and uncle wanted to retire, so it was the perfect solution for everyone.” Time to redirect the questions to Micah. “So how did you end up here in Natchez?”
Micah took a sip of his drink and leaned back. “I was working in Nashville with the Gaylord organization.”
“That must have been exciting. I remember when you and Jack and I were working for the Hancock hotels. We dreamed of working with one of the resort chains. I used to think I wanted to work in a big hotel.”
“It was exciting, but also long hours, lots of stress, and little time for personal life. The job was wearing me down. I realized I was more comfortable managing the smaller hotels. Monmouth came open, and I jumped at the chance.”
“I think you’ll like working here. The people are wonderful. Hardworking, dedicated. They all have a deep love for the home and its history. Have you met Hal and Roosevelt?”
Micah nodded, a smile lighting his eyes. “I have. Those men have forgotten more about Monmouth than I’ll ever know. The knowledge and experience they possess are invaluable to thi
s inn.” He leaned forward slightly, looking into her eyes. “Having a friend here in town makes it even better.”
The soft, intimate tone in his voice stole her breath. She tried to interpret his words. Did he want their friendship to become more? Or was she simply experiencing leftover pangs of self-pity and reading more into his words than intended?
“So, I understand that Natchez during the holidays is quite unique.” Micah leaned back and cut a piece of deep-fried turkey into a bite-size piece.
Wreath’s tension eased somewhat. “Oh yes. Starting tomorrow the city turns into a Christmas wonderland. Next to spring pilgrimage, Christmas is my favorite time of the year.”
“Helen told me the staff will begin putting up the decorations tomorrow. She assured me, by Monday the entire plantation will be dressed for the holidays.”
“Not only Monmouth but the entire city. The antebellum homes, the downtown streets, the park along the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi River, everything will be lit and draped for the holiday. It’s magical.” Embarrassed by her obvious passion for her city, she looked down at her plate, tucking her hair behind her ear. He probably thought she was silly.
“You love this city a lot, don’t you?”
The quiet tone of his voice drew her gaze to his. “I do. I wasn’t raised here. I grew up in Madison, Mississippi, but we visited my aunt and uncle frequently, and I fell in love with Natchez.”
Micah laid his hand on hers. “I’m glad to know you’re happy and that you’re all right after what Jack did.”
“I’m fine. It was hard at first, but I found my new career and I reconnected with my faith. I’d wandered too far away. So now I’m at peace and I’m happy.”
“I’m glad, Wreath. You deserve to be happy.” He removed his hand as plates of white chocolate bread pudding with praline sauce were placed in front of them, along with a silver coffeepot.
“Wreath, I’m sorry.”
“For what?
“I feel responsible for what happened. It was never my intention to introduce you to Jack. In fact, I’d avoided it the entire time you and I dated. But that night at the party, he swooped in and took over like he always did, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. I should have tried harder to protect you.”
His caring words touched her deeply. “You couldn’t help what happened. I went with him willingly. But it would have been nice to know what kind of a guy he was before I got so involved.”
“Would you have believed me if I had told you?”
Wreath thought back to those days. Her feelings for Jack had blocked out everything else in her life. “No. Probably not.”
Micah stared at his plate a long moment and then said, “I wanted to warn you at first, but you two hit it off. And Jack stayed with you longer than he had any other woman he’d known. I’d hoped it was the real thing.”
Mistakes of her past blurred her vision. “I didn’t see it at the time. Later I could see the signs, all the indications that our relationship wasn’t going to work, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I thought once we were married he’d change.”
“I still feel responsible.”
“I did blame you for a long time. It was easier than admitting I was an idiot.”
“You weren’t an idiot. You were a woman in love.”
She stiffened at the words, holding her head high. “I won’t make that mistake again. Ever.”
Chapter 4
Micah surfed through the television channels for the third time, but nothing had changed. The ball game was too lopsided to care about, the rest of his choices couldn’t hold his attention. His small suite on the third floor of the nearly two-hundred-year-old mansion was cozy and convenient, allowing him to be available at a moment’s notice. But he could see that it wouldn’t be long before the rooms would start to feel cramped. He’d have to find a place to live soon before he developed claustrophobia.
In the tiny alcove kitchenette, he opened the small fridge and pulled out a can of cola. Who was he kidding? This restlessness he felt had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Wreath. He couldn’t get her off his mind. It broke his heart to hear her say she no longer believed in love. If Jack were here, he’d punch Jack’s lights out. Jack had not only broken her heart and left her humiliated at the altar, but he’d stolen her dreams. His callous treatment had caused Wreath to lock away her heart. Now she lived through her clients, the brides who dreamed of a fantasy wedding, and giving them the dream she’d been denied.
He wanted a second chance to win her heart, but first he had to get around her barriers. Had to find a stronger reason for her to agree to spend time with him. He wanted to restore her belief in romance. He stretched out on the sofa. Maybe there was a way to give it to her as a Christmas gift. And maybe he could convince Wreath Anderson that there was a man in her life who would cherish her and promise her romance every day of her life. That was his dream. But first he had to get her to see him as a man and not a good friend. He’d set his plan into motion first thing tomorrow.
Wreath pulled into the Monmouth parking lot the next day at the same time as Grace Donovan. The weather had turned warm again, at least for the next few days. The forecast for the month of December called for above-average temperatures and little rain, a blessing Wreath was grateful for. More than anything she wanted Grace and Brian’s wedding day to be as perfect as she could possibly make it.
Grace waited on the sidewalk, her ever-present smile brightening her face. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve decided to follow your suggestions on the placement of the cakes. The wedding cake will be in the front parlor under that gorgeous Waterford chandelier, and the groom’s cake will be in the back parlor.”
“Wonderful. Have you decided where you want to hold your ceremony?”
She nodded, taking Wreath’s arm and starting across the brick courtyard. “The pergola. I can see it draped with winter greenery and lights, Christmas bows maybe, or ornaments. What do you think?”
Wreath’s heart squeezed inside her chest. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped walking until Grace turned and stared at her.
“Wreath, is something wrong?”
Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she moved forward, trying to wipe away the mental image of the pergola at Monmouth in the height of spring, thick with lavender wisteria, white tulle, and large white wreaths. The gardens bursting with pink azaleas. “No. I’m fine.”
Grace reached out and touched her arm. “No you’re not. I’ve seen that look on your face before, and it’s usually when I’m making a decision about this ceremony. What is it? You can tell me. Am I doing something to upset you?”
A rush of shame and regret washed through her. “Oh no, Grace. It’s not you. It’s just that—well, I didn’t want to say anything, but maybe it’s time I explained. I held my wedding here six years ago. It was an antebellum theme like yours, and we staged the ceremony at the pergola.”
Grace stared at her intently a long moment. “I thought you said you were single. What happened?”
Wreath wrapped her arms at her waist, wondering if the words would ever be easier to say. “The groom never showed up.”
The look of horror on Grace’s face brought tears to Wreath’s eyes. She blinked, hoping to chase them away but failing. “I’m sorry. I never meant to tell you.”
“Oh, Wreath.” Grace pulled her into a tight hug. “You should have. I could have chosen a different theme. We still can. I don’t want to cause you any pain.”
“Nonsense. This is your wedding. I’m being silly. It’s just bringing up old memories, and then when Micah showed up…”
“Micah?”
“The new manager here.”
As if on cue, Micah stepped from the office and joined them in the courtyard. Wreath quickly composed herself and smiled. He looked handsome as ever in his dark suit, crisp white shirt, and patterned tie. But he’d looked better last night in the casual sweater and slacks. “Good morning. Micah, I’d like y
ou to meet Grace Donovan. Grace, this is Micah Broussard, the new innkeeper of Monmouth. Grace and Brian are the couple I told you about with the big Christmas wedding.”
Micah shook Grace’s hand. “Donovan. Yes, of course. We’re pleased to be hosting your special event here at Monmouth. Please don’t hesitate to call me with any questions or concerns, though I know Wreath will do a great job coordinating your wedding.”
He chatted a few moments and moved on. Wreath watched him go then turned back to Grace, who was staring at her intently.
“Is he the guy? The former fiancé?”
“No. Micah is…an old friend. He’s a good man. He’d never do something like leaving his bride at the altar.” The truth of her words resonated someplace deep in her heart.
Grace glanced over her shoulder toward Micah, who was stepping into the main house. “Friends? Really?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because the way he looked at you had nothing to do with friendship.”
“No really. We’re just friends.”
Grace arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Brian and I were close friends in the beginning, too. And look where it led us.” She turned and sauntered off, leaving Wreath with an uneasy sensation in her stomach.
A short while later, Wreath was in the garden room, a generous structure situated away from the main house, which hosted breakfast each morning and also served as a reception and dinner venue. The covered and heated patio allowed for events in any type of weather. Grace and Brian would be having their formal wedding dinner in this space. Micah came in, a smile on his face, and strolled toward her. “Still hard at work, I see.”
She nodded to acknowledge his presence but didn’t look at him. “The father of the bride added more guests. I have to find a way to squeeze in one more table.”
“Anything I can do to make it work?”
Wreath laughed and held her arms straight out in front of her, toward the far wall. “If you could just push the kitchen back about ten or twelve feet. Thanks.”
“I would if I could.”
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