Wedding Cake Wishes

by Dana Corbit

  Dylan sauntered across the room and leaned over to hug his mother.

  “Two cakes today,” Amy told him as soon as he released her.

  Logan shook his head as he stood and moved his mother’s tray table off to the side. Instead of sitting again, he gestured for Dylan to take his place. “No, Mom. Three. Remember?”

  “Three,” she said, nodding her head.

  “That’s good news, Mom.” Dylan lowered into the seat next to her, taking her hand. “It is June, after all.”

  “June,” she repeated.

  As Dylan sat, he shot a glance at his younger brother and cleared his throat. “Since you two have already had a nice visit with Mom, why don’t you get out of here and give us a turn.”

  Moving closer to her fiancé, Jenna rested a hand on Dylan’s shoulder and used the other hand to wave toward the door. “Yeah, you guys. Hit the road.”

  “Isn’t it bad enough that I’m twenty-four years old and my big brothers are still telling me what to do?” Logan stacked two smaller bowls on his mother’s plate and put the cover on her dinner tray. “Now I have to let my future sister-in-law push me around, too?”

  Though he protested, Logan couldn’t seem to get out of the room fast enough. They said their goodbyes, and he hurried out of the room, leaving Caroline to follow gamely behind him. Once they’d passed through the heavy metal doors marking the exit from the rehabilitation department, Logan sagged against the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut and shoved his hands back through his hair.

  “That was a rough one.” Caroline sighed and leaned on the wall.

  “Ya think?” But Logan’s lips lifted in a sad smile as he opened his eyes.

  He waited, as if he expected her to say more, but when she didn’t, he shook his head. “I thought it would get easier seeing her like this.”

  His voice was so thick with emotion that Caroline had to clasp her hands together to keep from grabbing him in a hug that would only embarrass him. He probably hated feeling vulnerable as much as she did.

  “But she’s doing so much better, Logan. You heard her. She was walking today. Walking! Three weeks ago you weren’t even sure she would survive the stroke, and now she’s sitting up and feeding herself and—”

  Logan held up a hand to stop her speech. “And walking. I know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I expected. Maybe that she would recover almost like Lazarus or something, and then we could all go out to lunch.”

  She smiled at him because she realized that though he had phrased it in a funny way, he really had hoped, realistically or not, for a speedy miracle. “You told me yourself that her progress would be slow. Weren’t you listening to yourself?”

  He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I feel rotten for not being more appreciative. Not counting our blessings for how far Mom’s come. But it’s just that she’s not…you know…she’s not…”

  “Herself?” Caroline supplied as her gaze met his. “I know what you mean.”

  “She doesn’t get the jokes. She doesn’t laugh.” He swallowed visibly. “You know what the doctors said.”

  “About personality changes? You don’t know that that’s going to happen. Not every stroke patient experiences those kinds of changes.”

  He crossed his arms as if for self-protection and stared at the shiny linoleum of the hallway floor. “What if it does happen? What if Mom’s never the same person again?”

  “She’ll still be your mother.”

  Caroline didn’t mean for her words to come out so harshly, so she braced herself for whatever Logan would say next. Had she overstepped her boundaries? She might love Mrs. Warren, but this was Logan’s mother. What kind of friend was she, anyway? He’d opened his feelings to her, and she’d stomped all over them.

  “You’re right.”

  She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, so she looked at him, finding him staring back at her.

  “Thanks. I needed to hear it.” Logan pushed his fingers through his hair again as he settled back against the wall, but he didn’t seem as frustrated as he had earlier.

  “The doctors also told you it’s going to be months before we know what the extent of your mom’s recovery is going to be. You’ll just have to be patient.”

  When Logan turned his wide-eyed expression on her, she chuckled. “I know. I know. That’s tough advice to take from someone like me.”

  “You can say that again.”

  She grinned. “That’s tough advice to—”

  “Okay. Once was enough.” Gesturing for her to follow him, Logan started down the hall, but he glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Thanks again.”

  She caught up to walk beside him. “You’re welcome.”

  Logan’s step appeared lighter as they walked out of the hospital, and Caroline was glad for him. Unfortunately, her heart felt heavier. As sad as she’d been during the visit with Mrs. Warren, especially watching her son’s reaction to it, the time had been eye-opening for her. Before she’d been asking when Mrs. Warren would return to her bakery, but now she had to wonder if that would ever happen.

  Did Logan even see it yet? She could only imagine how painful it would be for him to realize that his mother had survived the stroke only to lose her personality in the process. Was he ready to acknowledge that there might be other limitations to her recovery? That she might never return to work?

  Caroline already knew the answer to that. Logan worked every day with the intensity of a man with hope and a deadline. How could she shatter his belief by telling him she didn’t trust that his mother would even return? But she had to. Though Caroline would only be at the bakery a short while, Logan and his brothers would be left with a business to run. They had to decide what to do with Amy’s Elite Treats if its namesake never returned to bake again.

  “You finally set a date!”

  Logan hadn’t even reached Trina Scott’s backyard, but he would have heard her exclamation from as far away as his downtown apartment. He unlocked the gate and found his family and the Scotts as they often were, in a crushing group hug.

  Opposite that group, a picnic table had been covered with a vinyl tablecloth, and platters of food were spread over the length of it. Delicious smells seeped from the grill, making his stomach growl.

  He was glad he’d let Mrs. Scott talk him into coming this time instead of excusing himself for another “date” at the park. Even if his mother couldn’t be with them today, she would still want the two families to enjoy time together, especially on a day when they could celebrate Dylan and Jenna’s good news.

  He scanned the faces of the friends and relatives around the yard, not even realizing he’d been searching for Caroline until he felt a thud of disappointment when she wasn’t there. Where was she? If she was staying at her mother’s house, how had she managed to avoid attending the cookout?

  Just like each morning at the bakery, he couldn’t help watching for her and waiting for that undeniable jolt as soon as she came into view. This wasn’t good. No, not good.

  Lizzie was the first to unravel from the knot of people. “Look. Uncle Logan’s here.” She ran over, and in a practiced move, propelled herself into his arms. He shifted her to his hip.

  “What’s up, kiddo?”

  “Did you hear about the wedding?” Her eyes were as big as quarters as she spoke.

  “I did just now. That’s great.”

  She straightened in his arms. “I get to be a flower girl again. Two times.”

  “Hey, that’s a big deal.”

  Lizzie bubbled with excitement. “None of my friends have been a flower girl two times.”

  The child prattled on about a new dress and new shoes and whatever else little girls get all hyped up about in weddings, but Logan barely heard any of it. He was too busy trying to shake away the image of his niece in a third flower girl dress, with a surprising pair as the bride and groom.

  Where had that thought come from, and what could he do to make it stop? He wasn’t the marryin
g kind. He’d always known that. He didn’t even date anyone long-term. He would not be like his father, not if he could help it. So what was he going to do about Caroline Scott and the way she made him want to forget who he was?

  This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

  “Aren’t you going to congratulate me, brother?”

  Logan started, surprised to see that Dylan had made it all the way over to him before he’d noticed. Great. Now he was becoming a virtual Walter Mitty, daydreaming about weddings and the most unlikely bride he could ever imagine.

  “Sure I am.” Lowering Lizzie to the ground, he grasped his brother in a bear hug. “But did you really set a date, or are you just playing a cruel joke on poor Mrs. Scott?”

  “I’d never do a thing like that to my future mother-in-law, but we did scare her by telling her we were just going to have a civil ceremony on Wednesday.”

  “Now that was cruel.”

  “I thought she was going to blow a gasket before we told her we were only kidding.”

  Logan spotted Trina across the lawn, laughing as she rubbed her hand over Haley’s rounded belly, so he guessed she’d survived the joke. “So when’s the real date?”

  “July twelfth.” Dylan beamed. “We just confirmed it with Reverend Boggs.”

  “That’s just over a month. Are you going to be able to pull it off?”

  “It was the only date open at our church until the end of August.”

  Logan lifted a brow. “After stalling all this time, you’re in a hurry now?”

  “You kidding? I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d let me. I’ve been waiting my whole life to be Jenna’s husband.” Dylan patted his younger brother on the shoulder. “I hope someday you find someone you can care about as much as I love her.”

  “I’m happy for you.” Logan patted Dylan’s arm, refusing to let his thoughts travel to dangerous places again. No more Walter Mitty adventures for him today. “Wait. When did Haley say she was due?”

  “August first.”

  “You guys are cutting it close.”

  Approaching them, Jenna took Dylan’s arm. “We are, but Matthew and Haley agree with Mom that we should go ahead with the wedding. It will give your mother something else to look forward to. When we told her, she said that it was, and I quote, ‘good.’”

  “Of course she would say that,” Logan told them. “She wants to make sure her matchmaking targets get hitched. And mark my words, the ink will still be drying on your marriage license before she’ll be bugging you about adding to her brood of grandchildren.”

  “Whoa. Don’t even go there yet.” Dylan wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s shoulder and turned to kiss her cheek. “But someday Jenna and I will have some beautiful babies.”

  “You kidding?” Logan said with a grin. “You’ll have enough of them to field your own baseball team before your tenth anniversary.”

  “Or at least a beach volleyball team,” Matthew chimed as he joined them.

  Laughter filled the backyard as Haley and Trina stepped over to complete the group. Logan joined in, but he couldn’t resist looking past the others, still searching for the missing Scott sister. “Has Caroline heard the news?”

  “No, we just told the others—” Jenna stopped and gave him a sharp look. “You’re not worried she’ll be upset, are you? She’s always seemed to be happy for us before. You don’t think…?”

  Logan was shaking his head before she could finish. “No. She’ll be thrilled for you guys though she’ll be bummed she missed your announcement…wherever she is.”

  He tried to sound nonchalant as he added that last part, inserting a mini fishing expedition while hoping not to get caught himself. The last thing he wanted was to make anyone suspect that he was overly interested in the whereabouts of one Caroline Scott. Or that he had any interest in her at all besides as coworker and friend. He didn’t. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

  Jenna looked relieved. “That’s good because I can’t wait to ask her—”

  “Look at you guys,” Caroline called out as she crossed the yard, carrying two plastic shopping bags. “I was gone only five minutes. I even leave the party to go buy the buns somebody else forgot, and I come back to find you all talking about me.”

  “We weren’t— I was just—” Logan stopped and gestured for Jenna to take over for him.

  Jenna gave him a funny look before turning back to her sister. “Logan was just wondering why you weren’t here for our big announcement.”

  “What big announcement?” Caroline looked back and forth between her sister and Dylan and then grinned as she held up her cell phone. “I heard. You think I could have one of these, and Mom wouldn’t be able to reach me within seconds when she had good news?”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Jenna rolled her eyes.

  Trina was unapologetic. “You made me wait months for this, so I plan to enjoy every minute of it.”

  “Anyway,” Jenna tried again, turning to Caroline, “since you already know about the date, I wanted to ask you to be my maid of honor.”

  Instead of answering, Caroline shot a glance at Haley.

  “Me?” Haley said. “There’s no way I’m going to try to squeeze all of this into a bridesmaid’s dress less than three weeks before my due date.” She indicated her expanding belly.

  Jenna looked from one sister to the other. “You see, I didn’t even have to choose between you two.”

  “Then I’d love to do it,” Caroline said with a smile.

  “And I don’t have to choose, either, because Matthew volunteered to plan the wedding music instead,” Dylan said. “So I guess that leaves you, buddy. Are you in?”

  “You know how much I love weddings.” But after getting the laugh, Logan nodded. “But sure. I’ll do it.”

  “Sure you don’t have a date that day?” Matthew wanted to know.

  “If I do, I can reschedule.” Logan frowned at his oldest brother, but when he glanced sidelong at Caroline, he caught her watching him. Was it wrong of him to wish that she would be a little jealous of his nonexistent dates? Wrong and dangerous, he decided. Dangerous to him.

  “I just know Amy will be well enough to attend, and it’s going to be perfect.” Trina folded her arms, the satisfied grin of a successful matchmaker on her lips.

  “It will as long as you ask Mr. Kellam to be your escort,” Haley chimed.

  “Don’t you start.” Trina probably would have continued her lecture, but something caught her attention, making her turn toward the grill. “Well, there go the brats.”

  Matthew and Dylan rushed over to the smoking grill, but it was too late to save the charred meat, so another trip to the store for replacements would be required.

  Why did Logan have the feeling that the cookout that had just gone up in flames might be a better reflection of what the wedding might be like than the perfection Mrs. Scott had predicted? At least for him.

  He wanted to say he could do this. He had survived being in Matthew and Haley’s wedding last summer, but this time was different. This time he would be escorting Caroline. Wasn’t it hard enough working every day with her and pretending not to notice how beautiful, how clever and how compassionate she was?

  How could he escort her down that aisle and stand near her, just a breath away from the altar, and not get some crazy ideas in his head about a more unlikely bride and groom?

  Chapter Seven

  Caroline expected only the dull glow of a single safety light when she unlocked the bakery’s back door, so the brightness coming from inside startled her. She was already making a mental note to remind staff about turning off lights when a sound came from the office, signaling that she wasn’t alone.

  Remembering that first day when Logan had mistakenly thought the front door had been left unlocked, she stiffened. Had someone really forgotten today? Her pulse quickened, and her senses clicked into high alert. This part of Markston might have been a low-crime area, but Caroline reasoned that every neighborhood had t
hat same spotless record until the break-ins, carjackings and murders began.

  Scanning the hall for a weapon she could use, if necessary, she caught sight of Logan’s riding boots beneath the coat rack. His leather jacket hung from a hook just above them. Her breath caught. She should be relieved that Logan was in that office instead of some prowler intent on raiding the safe, but her pulse didn’t slow in the comfort of that knowledge. If anything, it beat even faster.

  Just in case she was wrong about the visitor’s identity, Caroline grabbed a wooden hanger and crept down the hall toward the lighted room. Feeling ridiculous, she tiptoed to the half-open door and peeked inside.

  Logan sat at the desk, surrounded by a pile of open books. His shoulders were bent, and his head was bowed. Was he praying? She’d pictured Logan Warren a few different ways these last few weeks—chopping wood with his arm muscles flexing, riding his motorcycle with his leather jacket whipping in the wind, even on dinner dates with every single woman in town besides her. But praying? She hadn’t expected that.

  Instead of looking away and giving him privacy, Caroline couldn’t help continuing to watch him. She supposed it shouldn’t surprise her to learn that Logan was a praying man. She’d learned in the past few weeks that the boy she’d thought she knew didn’t resemble the man she was coming to know at all. Instead of being surprised to find Logan praying, she should be wondering why she’d spent so little time in prayer lately.

  Caroline had just decided to slip out unnoticed when Logan lifted his head. His shoulders stiffened as if he could sense someone else’s presence, and he turned his head to look at the doorway.

  “What—” He jumped up from his seat and then turned back to shuffle the materials on the desk.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She moved just inside the door, setting the hanger on top of the bookshelf.

  “Uh, you didn’t,” he said, though she obviously had.

  “That’s good.” With her gaze, she followed his jerky movements as he tried to hide whatever he’d been reading. That he didn’t want her to see it only made her more curious. “I didn’t see your bike when I pulled in.”