A Cottage Wedding

by Leigh Duncan

“No!” Jason’s face morphed into a look of absolute horror, but the laughter in his eyes saved her from total embarrassment.

  “Yes, I’m afraid it’s true.” Her cheeks warmed. “I taped Meghan and Prince Harry’s wedding. I must have watched it a hundred times.”

  “I see.” He pulled at his chin. “Tell me, are you harboring any other deep, dark secrets?”

  Ouch! That hit a little close to home. Afraid he’d read her thoughts, she turned to stare out the window. “Everyone has secrets,” she whispered.

  Chapter Ten

  Jason swore the temperature in the car had just dropped ten degrees. He hadn’t meant to pry but, judging from the silence that filled the air, he’d touched a nerve. At the next corner, he pointed out a stone heart mounted on one of the few original buildings left in Heart’s Landing and was pleased when Tara warmed enough to ask questions. He enjoyed sharing what he knew about his famous ancestor, and they spent the rest of the ride to the Cottage talking about Thaddeus and Mary, the momentary freeze all but forgotten.

  Once he’d parked the car, he left Tara in the library to continue her research and headed for his office. He’d taken less than a half dozen steps, however, when someone called his name.

  “Jason! Yoo-hoo! Jason!” The bottom of a white apron flapping against a pair of churning legs, the head chef for the Captain’s Cottage hurried toward him with a picnic basket. “We have an emergency, Jason.”

  His stomach dropped. Images of flames leaping from the kitchen’s massive oven shot through his head. He banished the thought. Connie was upset, but not that upset. Had she discovered melted ice cream dripping from the freezer? Whatever the problem, he reached for his cell phone, ready to call in the cavalry. “What’s wrong, Connie?”

  “It’s the strawberries.” Plump cheeks rosy with exertion, the cook skidded to an abrupt stop. “They slid off the cart when Amos was bringing them up from the cooler. An entire flat, ruined.”

  Jason sucked in a deep breath and let it out in slow dribbles. Deliberately, he rolled the tension out of shoulders that had gone rock-solid in an instant. “I’m pretty sure we can resolve this without declaring a national emergency.”

  “But it’s the strawberries, Jason,” Connie protested. “We’re completely out. You know how many orders we fill for strawberries and cream every night? It’s our most requested item. What am I going to tell our brides and grooms when they ask for them?”

  Jason flexed his fingers. “Have you contacted our suppliers? Checked the grocery store?” Someone in Heart’s Landing had to have a few on hand.

  “I’ve tried everywhere.” Connie’s bottom lip quivered. Damp white curls escaped the bandana she wore instead of a chef’s toque. “Our only option is the U-Pick place north of town, and I can’t spare someone to go get them. Essie has the day off. Fiona is up to her elbows in cookie dough.” Each afternoon, the kitchen staff replenished the tea and coffee station and put out immense trays of house-made cookies. They were always a big hit. “Can you go?”

  He looked down the corridor toward his office. An afternoon of sunshine and fresh air held a definite appeal over the paperwork that awaited him. “I suppose.”

  “Oh, good! Look, here.” The cook thrust the picnic basket in his direction. “I packed a lunch for you. All your favorites.” Connie’s eyes filled with a conspiratorial glint. “There’s more than enough for two.”

  Jason blinked. His eyes widening, he studied the woman who’d run the kitchen of the Captain’s Cottage his entire life. Connie had given his hand a good-natured tap whenever he’d tried to grab a second fistful of cookies from the counter after school. When he’d been sick with a cold or the flu, she’d brought him chicken soup and milky tea with lots of sugar. She was more than an employee. She was family. But in all the time they’d known each other, she’d never once tried to play the matchmaker. Until now.

  “You think I should ask Tara to come along?” he asked, bemused.

  “I wouldn’t presume to choose your company for you, Mr. Jason.” Connie dried her hands on her apron. “You just make sure you come back with that basket full of strawberries.”

  He slanted a smile at her retreating figure. “Yes, ma’am.”

  It took less cajoling than he’d expected to convince Tara to join him. “Thanks for coming with me,” he said as he pulled off the highway at the sign to The Right Berry Farm a short while later. “I hated to take you away from your research.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mind. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but the captain’s logs make me sleepy.” Tara crossed one slim leg over the other. “Besides, Manhattan’s not known for its berry patches. I’m looking forward to spending some time in a garden. My folks grow a lot of their own vegetables for the restaurant. I miss that.”

  “Spent a few hours picking beans, did you?” He shot her a quick grin while he parked the car between two mini-vans.

  “Planting, watering, weeding, picking—my sisters and I did it all. We grew everything from beans and tomatoes to strawberries and melons. And herbs, of course.” She examined her fingertips. “I’d like to have a garden of my own one day. Not a huge one like theirs, but enough to have something fresh-picked for dinner once in a while.” Slowly, she lowered one hand to the door handle. “That’s probably not going to happen in New York, though.”

  “I hear you. When I lived in Boston, I was constantly on the go and couldn’t keep a houseplant alive. Rhode Island is so green in the summer. I love that about living here. You ever think of moving out of the city?”

  For a long minute, Tara stared out the car window at the orchards, corn fields, and gardens that covered the gently rolling hills. She gave her head an emphatic shake. “Weddings Today has their headquarters in New York. Almost all the magazine’s staff lives there. If I get this next promotion, I’ll be able to move to a slightly bigger apartment, but that’s about as good as it’s going to get for the foreseeable future.”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed. Tara had paused a bit too long before insisting that her ties to the city were permanent. Wondering what that was all about, he set the brake. He’d circle back to the topic later. “We’d better get started. Connie will have my head if I come back empty-handed.”

  Car doors thumped shut, and they stepped out into the warm summer air. In front of them, pavers formed a path that led to a low-slung farmhouse. Vines climbed the support columns and clung to the eaves above the porch. Nestled among the leaves, bronze hedgehogs perched on cement stands. The sun felt good on his shoulders as he guided Tara up the walkway to a shady spot where rocking chairs beckoned guests to sit and enjoy the view. The rustic building housed products by local artisans. He skirted it, instead steering them around to the back. He and Tara took wicker baskets from conveniently placed stacks and followed signs for the strawberry patch. They didn’t stop until they were a dozen rows past the nearest clump of children who ate as much as they picked under the watchful eyes of young mothers.

  “Now, this reminds me of home.” Tara flung her arms wide, her T-shirt stretching across her chest.

  “You miss it? Savannah?” It had been tough enough for him to move away from all that was familiar, but at least he’d known his stay in Boston was temporary. It must have taken a lot of courage and determination to move to a strange city on her own, but he wasn’t surprised that she’d succeeded. He’d already decided that Tara was an amazing woman. Especially right now when she stood in the sunshine wearing shorts and a T-shirt above a well-broken-in pair of running shoes. He busied himself with their baskets, refusing to give in to an urge to wrap his arms around her in a move that wasn’t nearly as platonic as he told himself it should be.

  “I do, but…” Her hands dropped to her sides.

  “But?”

  “My folks weren’t exactly thrilled when I chose a career in journalism over the family business. Though they’d never admit it, I’ve always felt like
they’re waiting for me to get this ‘writing thing’ out of my system and come back to work for them.”

  “Doing what? You said one of your sisters is a chef, and the other runs the front of the house.” He searched for names and gave himself a pat on the back when he recalled them. “Lulu and Maggie, right? Where would you fit in?”

  Tara held up empty palms. “I keep asking the same question. I guess they’d put me to work waiting tables. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not exactly my dream job.” Her shoulders slumped. “Plus, I’d always be the little sister who couldn’t make a go of it in the big city. That’s one of the reasons this promotion is so important. It’s my chance to finally prove I was right to follow my dreams.”

  “Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  “You’ve done so much already.” Tara’s hand brushed his forearm. “I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you.”

  Her touch sent warmth coursing up his arm and across his chest. Deliberately, he studied the field. “You can start by picking some berries.” To give his hands something to do besides reach for Tara, he twirled his empty basket by the handle. “We’re looking for the biggest, ripest ones we can find.”

  “Of course. Only the best for Heart’s Landing’s newlyweds.” Tara slanted a grin up at him. “I saw a sign for hand-churned ice cream. Last one to finish pays?”

  Oh, so she was competitive, was she? Deciding that was another trait he liked about her, he raised the stakes. “Double dips. The Rights use an old family recipe. It’s the best ever.”

  “You’re on. Let’s find a good spot.”

  Hand on one hip, Tara cast a critical eye at the low, green plants that stretched a hundred yards or more into the distance. A few ripe berries poked out from beneath the closest leaves. Declaring their immediate area picked over, she started moving at a good clip. Layers of straw mulch crackled under their feet until they reached the middle of the field. At last, Tara hunched down beside a plant laden with large, luscious berries. Deftly, she plucked one and held it up for him to examine. “These are nice.”

  Seeing her kneeling on the ground, her long legs tucked gracefully beneath her, her ponytail curling softly over one shoulder, the sun gently kissing the top of her head, Jason felt his heart lurch. Steady now. Tara might be smart and kind and make him smile more than he had in a long time, but Heart’s Landing was only a temporary stop on her road to success. Falling for her wasn’t just a bad idea, it was a terrible one. Still…

  “Jason? What do you think? Ready to pick?”

  Tara stared up at him, a puzzled frown on her lips.

  He cleared his throat. “Yep.” He swiped the berry from her outstretched fingertips and popped it into his mouth.

  “Hey!” she protested.

  “I had to make sure it tasted as good as it looked.” He grinned around the sharp-sweet flavor of fruit at the height of perfection.

  Following his lead, Tara helped herself as well. “Mmmm.” She smiled, her eyes closed. “I could eat these all day, but we have work to do. Ready. Set. Pick.” Gathering berries in both hands, she began filling her basket.

  Unable to banish the saucy tilt of Tara’s head from his mind, he kneeled beside her, grasped a plump strawberry, and gave it a tug. Their hands in motion, they worked their way down the row while fat bumblebees lumbered through the still air like overloaded cargo planes. The noisy shouts and laughter of children faded in the distance.

  The sun warmed Jason’s shoulders and back while he drank in the good smells of rich earth, green plants, and ripened fruit. Almost before he knew it, their baskets couldn’t hold another berry. It was time to leave. He stood and extended a hand to Tara. She grasped it, unfolded her long legs and rose with a grace he only wished he was capable of. In an instant, they were face-to-face, their bodies mere inches apart. His breath stalled.

  “What?” she asked, her voice suddenly hoarse.

  Falling for someone who lived so far away was not on the agenda, even if she stirred a yearning in his heart he couldn’t explain. He straightened and took a step back. “Nothing. You look relaxed and happy. That’s all.”

  “I miss working in a garden more than I thought I did.” Like a cloud drifting in front of the sun, a shadow passed over her face. She hefted her basket. “Well, I guess we’re done here. We should probably get back.”

  “Hungry?” Suddenly, he didn’t want the day to end. “Connie packed a picnic lunch.”

  “I could eat a bite or two. And don’t forget, you owe me an ice cream.”

  “Me?” Jason gave her a look filled with mock indignation. “I filled my basket first.”

  “Not a chance.”

  The easy banter chased away the tension between them, and they headed for the main building to weigh and pay for their purchases. Tara was telling him a story about her office-mate when they reached a bench at the end of one of the rows. Amid the backpacks and diaper bags piled atop the seat, a young woman sat wiping red smears off a grinning toddler’s face. The little tyke beamed a strawberry smile at them as they passed. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he’d have missed it when Tara’s face nearly melted.

  Jason swallowed. Someday. “Do you ever see yourself having a family, children?”

  Tara gave the child a wistful glance. “One day. Sure.” She shrugged. “Not for a while yet. And of course, I’d have to meet the right man and fall in love. How about you? You think you might ever change your mind about having a family?”

  A baby to swaddle and push through town in a carriage? A child he’d teach to throw a ball, to take on piggy-back rides or play hide-and-seek with? Someone he could pass his legacy on to, who’d carry on the Heart name? His eyebrows slammed together. “Who said I didn’t want children?”

  “You did. That first day when you took me on the tour of the Captain’s Cottage, you said you didn’t think kids and a family were in the cards for you,” Tara murmured, her voice soft.

  “Oh, that.” He took a deep breath. “Clarissa and I had just called it quits the day before. I was a bit sour on, well, everything.” His feet stirred up a grasshopper that went shooting off into the distance.

  “This is probably none of my business, but were you two together long?”

  “A few years. We met at a fundraiser in Boston when we were both starting out. She had just landed her first client at Handon’s Ad Agency. I’d recently taken over as the manager of a great little venue in South Boston. We had a lot in common and, for a long time, I convinced myself that she was the one.”

  “What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?” Tara pulled the elastic band free from her hair and swept the thick, blond strands into a new ponytail while they walked.

  Did he mind? No. Like the print on some of the old photographs in the attic, his feelings for Clarissa had faded. “She realized it before I did, but we simply weren’t headed in the same direction. Things were never quite the same after my dad died. I had moved back to Heart’s Landing to help out while he was sick. After he passed, I was busy learning the ropes at the Captain’s Cottage. When she begged to help entertain Regina Charm, I thought maybe she was hearing wedding bells. As it turned out, she only saw an opportunity for a potential client. She has her heart set on a vice presidency and all that comes with it—the brownstone in Back Bay, rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, nannies, and private schools. She never understood how I could give all that up for what I have here.”

  Tara tucked a few loose strands behind one ear. “This is what makes you happy. Anyone who loves you should understand that. I’ve only been here a few days, but I get it.”

  Neatly Jason turned the tables on her. “And your job, does it make you happy?”

  “Not yet.” Tara’s mouth turned down at the corners. “It will, though. Soon. My days of doing the legwork for the senior editor
s will end once I get this next promotion.”

  They reached the entrance to the old farmhouse that had been converted into a store. Jason held the door for her. “I hope that works out for you. I really do. In my experience, a promotion just means more of the same.” He shrugged. “I could be wrong. That might just be the way it worked out for me. As for Heart’s Landing, yeah. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  “It is a beautiful town. I’ll admit, in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve fallen a little bit in love with it.”

  He wanted to ask if she’d ever consider moving here, where she saw herself in five years or ten, if her plans for the future could ever include someone like him. But he held his tongue. In less than a week, Tara would return to New York and the future she’d planned for herself, while the life he loved was here in Heart’s Landing. He had no business falling for her, no matter how perfect she seemed. The problem was, he thought he’d already fallen. And the more he learned about her, the deeper he fell.

  He grew silent, unable to think of anything to say to that.

  Tara stared into a cooler filled with locally produced cheeses while Jason stood in line at the checkout counter. Her thoughts in turmoil, she couldn’t get the conversation with him out of her mind. He’d shared more than she’d expected. But then, everything about Jason was more than she’d expected. Just being in the same room with him made her pulse race. Her mouth had gone so dry when she’d watched the firm muscles in his calves flex as he’d squatted over the low plants that she’d had to look in a different direction. Hearing the low timbre of his voice created images of the two of them curled up beside each other on a porch swing.

  If that were all, she’d chalk her reaction up to hormones and rest assured that she’d be back to normal as soon as she returned to New York. But in one of her first assignments at Weddings Today she’d learned enough about venues to know that Jason had given up quite a lucrative career to take over the reins at the Captain’s Cottage. His roots ran deep in Heart’s Landing, and she respected that. He’d discovered what was most important in his life and committed himself to it. All of which made him one of the most interesting men she’d ever met.