by Cindy Kirk
Eliza reached out to open the door, but Kyle beat her to it. “Allow me.”
It was nice having a man around to open a door or help her carry in groceries. But she reminded herself this was only temporary. She and Kyle were simply co-existing under the same roof until, well, until she could get her house back.
Eliza saw Beck standing by the back table. As she drew close, she saw he was preoccupied with a bundle of pink in his arms.
Sarah Rose. The baby he and Ami had named after Ami’s mother.
Eliza had seen the child off and on, but the six-month-old looked different this morning. Sarah Rose held herself upright in her father’s arms, gurgling and waving chubby fists in the air.
The child had inherited her father’s dark hair, which curved about her face in silky waves. Her eyes were pure Ami. Though they’d appeared blue to Eliza the last time Ami had brought her to a Cherries meeting, they’d turned green, like her mother’s.
Eliza hadn’t spent much time around children. Though she didn’t dislike them, she’d never felt comfortable around them.
Because the baby appeared settled in Beck’s arms, Eliza stepped close. “Beck, I wanted to—”
Before she could finish, Sarah Rose gave a squeal and lunged forward, an openmouthed smile on her face. She grabbed Eliza’s hair and squealed again, her mouth scattering drool everywhere.
“Whoa, sweet one.” Beck crooned the words and smiled apologetically at Eliza. “Appears my girl has taken a shine to you.”
Eliza forced a smile. Her attempt to disengage little fingers from her hair resulted in a howl of protest.
Ami appeared, her gaze shifting from Beck to Eliza. “What’s the matter?”
“Our daughter,” Beck told his wife, “tried to throw herself into Eliza’s arms. And grabbed her hair.”
Ami’s keen-eyed gaze quickly assessed the situation. “Would you mind holding her for a second?”
Eliza’s heart skipped a beat. “Me?”
“Who else?” Kyle, who’d remained silent beside her, grinned. “You’re the one whose hair she’s got in a death grip.”
Eliza scowled. By now, everyone around the table was staring. “Oh, all right.”
“Make sure you get a good hold.” Beck’s eyes filled with worry. “She’s strong, and if something interests her, she goes for it.”
“Yes,” Eliza winced as Sarah Rose tightened her hold, “I know.”
The baby smelled like shampoo and powder. Once she was in Eliza’s arms, Sarah Rose abruptly released Eliza’s hair. Appearing content, she gazed at Eliza with those sea-green eyes framed with dark lashes and offered a gummy smile.
“Beck was right.” Ami’s eyes turned soft. “Sarah Rose is taken with you.”
In one way, it felt odd to have a baby in her arms. In another way, it felt right.
Across the table, Marigold watched her with an expression of longing so intense it made Eliza feel like a shmuck for taunting her earlier. Then the look disappeared, replaced by that cocky self-assurance that was as much a part of Marigold as her curly blond hair.
Eliza jiggled the baby as the child glanced around the café. Holding her wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience. In fact, she was just getting used to it when Ami reached over and lifted the baby from her arms.
“Sorry about the hair-pulling.” Ami offered an apologetic smile. “And the drool.”
“She’s a baby.” Eliza kept her tone casual. “If she was an adult, we’d have to talk.”
Ami’s quick smile told Eliza better than any words that their friendship, once broken, was on the mend.
Knowing they needed to get back to pick up Lolo, Eliza settled for coffee. Kyle did the same. When he glanced at his phone, they left, a good ten minutes ahead of the others.
“You could have stayed,” he told her as they walked quickly down the sidewalk in the direction of the church. “I just don’t want Lolo to wait on me.”
“You love her.”
“I do.” He slanted a glance in her direction. “You have a brother. I assume you care for him and he for you.”
She thought of her smart and funny younger brother. Growing up, she and Ethan had been allies who’d stood up for each other. Even during her dorkiest days, Ethan had been by her side.
The fact that her father preferred her brother hadn’t been able to destroy the bond she and Ethan shared. “I was jealous of the attention my father gave him when we were younger. I now realize such attention can be a burden. At least my dad let me live my own life. Until recently, anyway.”
“Why do you think he chose to interfere now?” Kyle asked as the church came into view.
Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. “He thinks I’m not achieving my potential, both professionally and personally, in Good Hope.”
“I bet he sees you running some big company back East.”
Eliza shook her head. “You forget, I’m a woman.”
When Kyle started to protest, she lifted a hand. “That’s how he is. I never minded, or not much. I had what I wanted. But now…”
“Now?” he prompted.
“He sold what mattered most to me.” Her eyes turned cold as steel. “He’ll discover that was a mistake.”
Chapter 9
Lolo talked nonstop on the way home. Kyle had difficulty hiding his relief. He couldn’t wait to call his parents and tell them that their child’s first outing in Good Hope had been a success.
His dad wouldn’t ask many questions. His mother, on the other hand, would want all the details.
Kyle smiled at his sister. He kept his voice casual, not wanting the question to sound like an interrogation. “Tell me more about these ‘talk tokens.’”
“We sat in a circle and Katie Ruth gave us all pennies.” When Lolo smiled at the memory, her braces glinted in the sun. “She brought up different situations. Each time we commented, we tossed a penny into a basket she placed in the center. I didn’t want to say anything, but Katie Ruth wouldn’t move on to the next situation until we’d all used up our pennies.”
The muscle in Kyle’s jaw jumped. Katie Ruth had assured him Lolo wouldn’t be forced to participate. “Which means you had to talk.”
“It wasn’t horrible.” Lolo smoothed down the downy feathers of her sweater. Her lips tilted upward. “The situations she gave us weren’t lame.”
Though Kyle sensed Eliza was listening, she said nothing.
“What kind of situations?” Kyle prompted when his sister didn’t continue.
“Like what to say to a friend who wants you to shoplift.”
Kyle inhaled sharply. “You talked about shoplifting in Sunday school?”
“It’s youth group.” Lolo’s prim tone took him by surprise. “There’s a Bible verse about dealing with temptations in Corinthians.”
Somewhat mollified, Kyle gave a nod. “Sounds like you had fun.”
“It didn’t suck.”
Eliza coughed, though it sounded more like she was covering a laugh.
Kyle shot her a sharp glance, then refocused on his sister. “Are you interested in going back?”
Lolo shrugged. “If you made me, it’d be okay.”
That wasn’t exactly the assurance he was hoping for when he’d asked the question. He started to press, but Eliza’s hand on his arm had the words dying in his throat.
When he glanced in her direction, she gave her head a slight shake.
He got the message. If the youth group didn’t suck and Lolo was willing to go back, the morning had been a success. The last of the tension in his shoulders eased. Having an almost-teenager in the house for a couple of months might not be so bad after all.
“I made a hair appointment for you this afternoon.” Eliza waved an airy hand. “I’ll get mine trimmed while we’re there.”
Lolo came to an abrupt halt in the center of the sidewalk. She whirled to face Eliza. Her pale cheeks flamed red. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Nothing is wrong with it.” Kyle lif
ted his hands, his tone soothing. “It’s very—”
“You have no volume on top and way too much on the sides.” Eliza pulled no punches. “Your previous hairstylist obviously doesn’t have a clue how to properly cut curly hair.”
The anger in his sister’s blue eyes faded. Her brows pulled together. “There’s a special way to cut it?”
“That’s what I hear.” Eliza appeared suddenly bored by the conversation. But she seemed to sense Lolo needed more. “Marigold, the stylist we’ll see this afternoon, specializes in curly hair. She even blogs about it.”
“Really?” Lolo looked impressed.
“Katie Ruth is an editor for a local online newsletter called the Open Door. She did a feature on Marigold a couple months back.” Eliza shrugged. “If you’re interested, I’m sure you can find the article in the archives.”
Lolo’s fingers rose to finger the ends of her hair. “Do you really think she can help me?”
Eliza cocked her head and studied the girl. “It definitely won’t look worse.”
“You said it was important?” Dan offered an encouraging smile once Eliza had taken a seat.
Dan had a nice house. Not huge by any means, but the Craftsman-style home next to the church had a homey vibe. The living room, furnished with overstuffed, comfortable furniture in earth tones, had exposed wooden beams that gave it an open feeling. The scent of burning applewood emanating from the hearth added to the ambience.
While Dan wore chinos and a cotton sweater, Lindsay looked ready to head to the gym in yoga pants and a long-sleeved blue tee. Eliza had run into her friend yesterday when she and Lolo stepped out of Marigold’s salon.
After learning Lindsay had Monday off, Eliza had set up a time to meet with her and Dan to discuss the wedding competition.
“The competition kicks off next week.” Eliza crossed one long leg over the other. “I’m here to go over strategy.”
Dan inclined his head, obviously puzzled. “I thought all we needed to do was pick which vendors we wanted for our wedding.”
The minister slanted a glance at Lindsay as if seeking confirmation.
“I assume the strategy has to do with the competition between the three towns.” Lindsay kept her eyes focused on Eliza.
Eliza smiled. Her friend’s sharp mind was only one of many things she admired about Lindsay. “Exactly.”
“You’ve lost me,” Dan admitted with a self-deprecating smile.
Since he was a man and this involved wedding planning, Eliza cut him some slack. “The first item that you and Lindsay will pick out will be her dress.”
“I’ve already told Dan that choosing the dress is the bride’s purview.” Lindsay spoke before Eliza could elaborate.
Dan reached over and linked his fingers with his fiancée’s. “And I told her that’s fine with me. She’ll look beautiful in whatever dress she chooses.”
Relief washed over Eliza in a tidal wave. Having to deal only with Lindsay would make the process so much easier.
“I suggested her mother might want to be involved.” Dan gave Lindsay’s hand a squeeze. “I believe Anita would enjoy being included in the dress selection.”
Eliza exchanged a look with Lindsay.
“No.” Lindsay emphasized the word she mouthed with a barely perceptible shake of her head.
Once again, they were in complete agreement.
“Anyway,” Eliza offered a bright smile, “back to the dress. You might think the whole purpose of shopping is simply to find a dress you like.”
Dan’s phone buzzed. After glancing at the display, he offered an apologetic smile and rose. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.”
When he was out of the room, Lindsay turned back to Eliza and huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry. He assured me he had this time open.”
Eliza waved off the apology. “No worries.”
“These kinds of interruptions happen all the time.” Lindsay’s lips pursed as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. “I can’t recall a single time in the last month that we haven’t been interrupted.”
Eliza took a moment before answering. She chose her words carefully, determined not to add fuel to the fire simmering in Lindsay’s eyes. “I don’t know much about the life of a minister, but I imagine they’re like a doctor, always on call.”
Lindsay jerked to her feet and flung out her hands. “I can understand when there’s been a death or an accident, but members of his congregation call at all hours for every little thing.”
“Have you mentioned how you feel to him?” Eliza kept her tone offhand.
“It won’t do any good. Serving others is his calling.” Lindsay plopped back down in the chair, her eyes shimmering with tears.
“Hey.” Eliza reached forward and took Lindsay’s hands. “What’s going on?”
“Dan thinks my mom is great.”
Eliza wondered if her friend realized she’d completely changed the subject.
Go with the flow, Eliza told herself. “Seriously?”
Lindsay gave a choked laugh. “Yeah, seriously.”
“Wow.” There was nothing else to say. The minister either chose to see only the good in everyone, or the guy was easily fooled.
There was plenty Eliza could have said about Anita, but this was another area where, over the years, she’d learned to tread lightly. Although Lindsay saw most of her mother’s flaws, she remained loyal to the woman. And deep down, she loved her mother. So, while Lindsay could badmouth Anita, everyone else—including Eliza—watched their words.
Lindsay expelled a heavy sigh. “You’re putting so much work into this competition.”
Okay, so it appeared they were back to discussing the wedding. “We need to set up a time to look at dresses. Are you sure you don’t want Dan’s input?”
“I don’t want him there.”
Eliza lifted a brow.
“I-I mean,” Lindsay stammered, “isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress?”
“Not having to work around his schedule should make it easier.” Eliza waved a vague hand. “And your mother? That’s a firm no?”
Eliza held her breath, waiting, hoping, for confirmation. If she came along, Anita would try to control the outing. She would choose the dress her daughter would wear, and Eliza could practically guarantee it wouldn’t be Lindsay’s favorite or the best one for the competition.
“I don’t want her to come.” Lindsay sighed. “It’s not that I don’t love her, I do. It’s just she can be a bit…”
Her friend paused as if searching for just the right word.
Overbearing. Aggravating. Irritating.
“Intense.” Lindsay smiled at Eliza. “That’s a good word, don’t you think?”
Too mild, Eliza thought, but she nodded. “It fits.”
“I’d like it to be just you, me and Ami, if she can make it.” Lindsay lifted her hands, let them fall. “The three of us, like it used to be.”
Eons ago, they’d been inseparable. Until the car accident. But Eliza no longer held that incident against Ami. If Lindsay wanted Ami Bloom Cross, the one who had nearly killed her by driving recklessly, to be with them while she chose her wedding dress, Eliza wouldn’t quibble.
“You’re okay with it?” Lindsay’s gaze searched hers. “You and Ami are friends again, so it’ll be okay, right?”
“It will be fun.” Eliza kept her voice light. She knew Lindsay was doing her a favor by participating in the competition. She wanted her friend to enjoy every second of the experience. “The Three Musketeers together again.”
She must have sounded convincing, because Lindsay’s shoulders relaxed.
“Yes.” Lindsay flashed a smile and relaxed against the back of the sofa. “Now, what did you mean when you said we need to talk strategy?”
Eliza smiled. There was nothing she loved more than planning ahead.
“Think about it, you’ve seen one white wedding dress, you’ve seen them all.” Ignoring Lindsay’s look of conf
usion, Eliza pressed onward. “Certainly, there are different styles and fabrics and trains, but when you think back on the weddings you’ve attended in the past five years, how many of those dresses do you actually remember?”
Lindsay thought for a moment. “Just bits and pieces.”
“This is a competition. While I want you and Dan to be happy with the choices you make, I also want Good Hope to win.”
“You’re talking about a not-so-typical wedding dress.” Lindsay’s lips quirked up. “I’m not certain what makes a dress unforgettable.”
Eliza leaned forward. “Any number of things can make it unique and memorable. Memorable is what we want.”
A sudden look of panic flared in Lindsay’s eyes. She clutched Eliza’s hand. “Please tell me I’m not going to have to wear a cowgirl outfit or a camouflage dress like the one Sally Stubbens wore a couple years back.”
Eliza chuckled. “I was thinking more in terms of an unusual color or cut.”
Relief crossed Lindsay’s face. She released Eliza’s hand and sat back. “Sure. A different color and cut will be okay.”
Something in the way Lindsay spoke the words gave Eliza pause. “Are you sure you’re on board with this? I mean, did you have your heart set on a particular type of dress?”
“Not at all.” Lindsay waved a dismissive hand. “This wedding is simply a means to an end.”
Practical words. Ones often heard when a bride didn’t care about the ceremony, only about starting married life with the man she loved. Or sometimes, when the bride wasn’t into all the normal hoopla surrounding a wedding.
Neither of those fit this situation. While there was a softness in Dan’s eyes whenever he looked at Lindsay, Eliza didn’t see the same level of affection reflected back at him.
But this wasn’t the appropriate time to discuss the depth of Lindsay’s feelings for her fiancé. Even if it was, Eliza wasn’t sure it was any of her business.
“Look through bride magazines for styles that catch your eye.” Hearing Dan’s footsteps approaching, Eliza pushed to her feet. “According to the competition rules, we can’t visit bridal salons until April second, but nothing says we can’t do preliminary work.”
