An August Bride

by Debra Clopton

  ZONDERVAN

  An August Bride

  Copyright © 2014 by Debra Clopton

  ePub Edition © May 2014: ISBN 9780310339083

  Requests for information should be addressed to:

  Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Bible.

  Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Kristen Vasgaard

  Cover photography: Shutterstock

  Interior design: James A. Phinney

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Discussion Questions

  An Excerpt from a September Bride

  One

  About the Author

  Kyndall Paige—the newest joy of my heart—what fun adventures we will have . . .

  I had a long and lovely acknowledgment written, and then I realized it would have taken up several pages of the e-book! So, I’ve condensed it but hope everyone knows how much I love and appreciate you so very much. Thanks always to God for loving me and giving me the gift of writing. To my editors on this novella, Ami McConnell and Becky Philpott: you ladies rock. I loved bringing my love of cowboys and the beach together in this story—and thank-you for letting me have the “Mule Hollow Matchmakin’ Posse” visit Corpus Christi for this story. I do believe readers are going to love it! And for letting me be a part of A Year of Weddings—I’ve loved it. Thanks to associate editor Karli Cajka for all you do, especially not letting me overlook things! And thanks to my fantastic agent Natasha Kern for your unwavering efforts on my behalf. And with all my love to my husband Chuck whose love of Tarpon fishing inspired me to bring cowboys, sun and surf to this fun story. And finally, thank-you to you, my dear readers. I couldn’t do this without you.

  Kelsey Wilcox hated weddings.

  But she loved her cousin. Loved her enough to endure a weekend of wedding torture.

  Leave it to Tiff, though, to drag out the agony, opting for two days of wedding “fun,” starting with this fancy rehearsal party, complete with music and dancing. And romance.

  Fun—like a toothache.

  Kelsey tugged at her gold sequined dress and struggled to readjust her attitude—the floor-length dress wasn’t helping. She’d found it on the seventy-five-percent-off rack, refusing to pay more for something she’d never wear again. The thing itched, weighed a good ten to fifteen pounds, and was totally not Kelsey.

  But Tiff had loved it.

  So, here Kelsey stood, feeling like a total fake.

  Come on, Kels, attitude adjustment, remember.

  Right. Kelsey fixed her gaze on the vivid orange sun beginning to lower over the sparkling blue Corpus Christi Bay. She loved balmy August evenings.

  Loved walking barefoot across the beach, the touch of the fading sun on her skin and the soothing sensation of warm sugar sand sifting through her toes. She drew on that now—needing every ounce of calm she could find before heading into the wedding party.

  Good girl—calm, relaxed. Better, much better.

  Her fingers tightened around the strappy heels dangling from her fingertips. “You can do this, Kels. For Tiff,” she said aloud to the seagulls playing on the breeze without a care in the world.

  Determined, she hoisted the tail of her dress out of the sand, forced down the lingering jitters, and struggled to let the perfection of the setting sun settle more securely around her. This incredible beach had always been her haven. Her place of refuge. Tiff had understood this. She shared Kelsey’s love of the beach just as much. Her hope had been that this destination wedding, here where Kelsey had started her new life a couple of years ago, would help Kelsey. Even on Tiff’s special weekend, she’d been thinking of Kelsey’s feelings . . .

  It was all the more reason for Kelsey to force a smile and be supportive. And she really was happy for her cousin. Steven Lucas was a great guy. Unlike—

  Nope, you are not going there.

  Only fifty yards or so down the beach that stretched out between her bungalow and the hotel, she paused and studied the very new addition to the Corpus Christi skyline. Like the boardwalk that housed her bistro and several gift shops, the Castle Hotel was only a few years old. It had been created to be a destination-wedding showplace. With its white gleaming walls and endless glass windows and stairways that flowed down to the sand, the Castle Hotel had succeeded. It was almost impossible to see where the white stairs ended and the white sand began. Looking at it, Kelsey half expected to see Cinderella and her prince embracing on the landing.

  She thought of Tiff and her prince, and knew she could get through this. Inhaling one last calming breath, she headed across the sand toward the stairs.

  “Yoo-hoo, Kelsey!”

  Kelsey swung her gaze away from the hotel and a little farther down the beach. Instantly, her insides tensed.

  The “posse” had arrived.

  Yup, there they were—her redheaded aunt Esther Mae Wilcox and her two best pals, Norma Sue Jenkins and Adela Ledbetter Green. All three ladies waved wildly at her from the ocean’s edge. Their excitement made her smile, despite her misgivings. Millie, one of her aunt’s tiny black Yorkie-poos, dashed back and forth beside the sparkling waves, a blur as she chased the taunting seagulls, her shrill bark carrying on the breeze. The pup’s sheer joy made Kelsey chuckle. She waved the hand holding her shoes, keeping a firm grip on the long, heavy skirt of her dress.

  “Kelsey!” Aunt E exclaimed again. Hustling forward, caftan flowing, she engulfed Kelsey in her yellow, floral-printed chiffon arms. “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?”

  “It’s good to see you too.” A lump lodged in Kelsey’s throat, and she hugged as good as she got. Though her aunt and her pals added to her trepidation because of their meddlesome matchmaking ways, her spirits lifted.

  Everyone talked at once, getting their greetings and their hugging out of the way. Millie raced between her feet, and Kelsey picked up the curly-haired mass of wriggling pooch, giving her a hug. The pup licked Kelsey’s jaw, then strained to run free, the cawing birds just too tempting.

  Aunt E’s scarlet hair whipped about her face like flames in the wind as she studied Kelsey from head to toe. “My, don’t you look radiant tonight! Norma Sue, Adela, isn’t my niece the most beautiful sight in gold?”

  “Lovely, Kelsey. Just lovely.” Admiration warmed Adela’s blue eyes, making them even more vivid than usual in contrast with her soft cap of snow-white hair.

  “Yup.” A ranch woman with a large personality and a smile as wide as her ample hips, Norma Sue had shed her Stetson for the occasion, and her short, steel wool–curls ruffled freely in the breeze. “Honey, you’re gonna blow the socks off of
every single male at this shindig tonight.”

  And there it was. Two minutes in and they’d already started matchmaking. No wonder these three innocent-looking ladies were known far and wide as the Matchmakin’ Posse of Mule Hollow, their tiny Texas hometown.

  “Now, y’all, I’m telling you right up front,” Kelsey said. “I’m not looking for love or even a relationship, and y’all aren’t pushing me into anything either.”

  Aunt E harrumphed. “That low-down, lying Lance Carson did you a favor walking out of that church. If you’d married that scoundrel, look what you’d have been tied to for the rest of your life.”

  “That’s right, young lady,” Norma Sue huffed. “You were raised on a ranch. You know you’ve got to get back in the saddle after you’re bucked off. It’s been two years. That’s more’n time to saddle up.”

  Her mouth dried up. True, Kelsey’s life on her family ranch on the outskirts of Boerne, Texas, had taught her that, but she didn’t want to get back on the horse, and that was the difference. And she had good reason. She looked to Adela for help.

  “I agree, dear. You don’t want to let what he did define your life. You have to move forward.”

  Her heart fought the steel band tightening around it. “I agree. Lance did me a favor, really. If we had married, I never would have found my calling here in Corpus Christi. I love my life.” It was true. She’d traded in her boots for flip-flops and a bistro by the beach two years ago. She was doing fine. Fine. Enjoying herself and running a business that allowed her a laid-back way of life with good friends and lots of happy customers.

  Of course, after what Lance had done, she’d been hurt, embarrassed, and madder than—well, let’s just say she’d been one hot Texas cowgirl. But that was then. She was no longer a cowgirl. She was a surfer girl—okay, so she didn’t surf, but she did have an array of flip-flops fit for every occasion. She made the best coffee in the city, the best pastries and sandwiches too. And her soups were to die for—customers’ words, not her own—but exactly what she was aiming for with everything she created. Making her customers happy made her happy.

  Her life was fantastic.

  It was. Sure, she’d love to drum up a little more business, maybe get some catering jobs so her employees could pull in some extra income for themselves, but that would come. It would.

  Looking at the three expectant faces of the matchmakers, her pulse stuttered and her stomach knotted. They were going to be on her like syrup on a hot pancake tonight. To them, a single woman needed a man. End of story.

  Kelsey was having none of it, though. And she was about to say so when Millie zipped past them heading toward the water and dove for a low flying sea gull. Was she a pup or a bird?

  Millie landed on the receding wave, her fur splayed out like a mop as she floated. Yipping and barking, she began paddling wildly, but instead of returning with the waves, she was pulled farther out. She had to have traveled more than twenty feet in the time Kelsey had watched.

  “My baby!” Aunt E exclaimed, running for the water with Norma Sue and Adela on her heels.

  Millie was about to be lost at sea.

  Kelsey dropped her shoes, hiked up the narrow skirt of her sequined dress, and took off running. “I’ll get her, Aunt E,” she shouted. She plunged into the water, maneuvering a shallow dive in the direction of the black mass of yelping fur.

  She came up where the puppy had been, only to find Millie had been swept farther away, still treading and yelping frantically. As Kelsey pushed forward, the heavy sequined dress caught water like a sponge. She floundered, scrambled, and fought to no avail—the dress tangled around her legs and dragged her beneath the waves.

  She clawed for the surface and gasped for air, only to be sucked under once more. Thrashing and twisting, she fought her way back up and kicked her gold-encased legs up and out of the water, but the dress clung to them.

  Her lungs burned. Flipping and flopping, she tried to reach around for the zipper but couldn’t—the ridiculous fabric weighed her legs down like actual gold. She managed to reach the surface and gasp for air before the ocean claimed her again.

  This, she thought, was not how she’d envisioned herself going out.

  And what about the poor puppy?

  Brent Corbin yanked at the collar of his starched white dress shirt and strode out of the Castle and onto the hotel’s back patio. Heading toward the outer corner, he breathed in the scent of ocean air. Soon he’d have to go back inside to join the wedding celebration. But not for a few moments yet.

  Brent was happy for his college rodeo pal Steven, and a little envious that Steven had found what he hadn’t been able to find himself. Love seemed elusive for Brent.

  He’d just reached the railing when screams erupted down by the beach. Three older women in bright colors were waving and jumping and getting all kinds of crazy in the sand. What could they be so excited about? Brent looked out over the water for signs of trouble. The evening sun glinted off the blue water, flaring suddenly off of what appeared to be the golden tail of a—of a mermaid.

  The tail flipped and rolled, and suddenly the body of the mermaid appeared, arms flailing, before she sank back beneath the water. An instant later she burst again from the waves, her form glowing gold in the sunlight, long blond hair flowing over her like flaxen seaweed . . . and then she was gone.

  The mermaid was in trouble.

  Brent vaulted over the hotel rail, landing boots first in the sand, and plowed forward, fighting the sand as it sank beneath each step. He kept his eyes on the spot the mermaid had disappeared, yanking off his jacket as he ran. He dropped it to the wet sand, passed the three hysterical women standing ankle-deep in the waves, and kept on going. He plunged into the surf just as he saw the blonde emerge yards away. Her eyes were wide with terror that pierced his heart and drove him forward.

  Swimming hard, Brent made it to her before she sank again. He reached for her and grasped a flailing arm. She latched onto him, throwing her free arm around his neck, and nearly took him under too, trying to scramble on top of him. Her thick blond mass of hair covered his face and filled his hands as he struggled to gain control of the situation.

  “Whoa, darlin’. It’s all right,” he soothed, holding her at bay while some of her desperation eased. “You have to give me room or we’ll both drown. I gotcha.”

  “M-my dress, it’s too heavy! I can’t move.” Huge eyes, blue as the water, locked on him. His heart skipped a beat as a wave crashed over them.

  “Millie,” she gasped, and he realized only then the puppy that was floating beside them, looking almost finished.

  Snapping to, he dragged the mermaid close, fully aware that every nerve ending in his body hummed with new energy when she clung to him. Twisting to his back, he scooped up the bobbing puppy, then, holding tight to both, he kicked hard toward shore doing a one-armed backstroke.

  When his boots touched ground in shallow water, he’d never been so happy. Standing, he folded his arms beneath his mermaid’s knees and carried her and her puppy out of the water.

  “Kelsey, honey, I thought we’d lost you,” the redhead exclaimed as he trudged to the shallow surf. She reached out a hand. “Here, let me get Millie, you sweet, amazing man, you.”

  The pooch leaped from him to the redhead, wiggling and whining with happiness.

  The mermaid’s arms wound tighter around his neck as her heart thundered against his. He tightened his hold in response, not at all ready to give her up.

  The other two women were talking too, but he didn’t hear what they were saying. He was too focused on the treasure he’d plucked from the sea.

  The glitzy gold number weighed the mermaid down in his arms and fabric dangled well past her feet. It was no wonder she’d almost drowned.

  “I don’t think this thing was meant to be a swimsuit,” he drawled, hoping to calm the erratic beating of her heart. “You’re trembling.”

  “You saved me,” she said between gulps of air.

&nb
sp; She was staring at him as if he could jump tall buildings in a single bound. With her looking at him like that, he thought he probably could. “Well, yes, ma’am, that’s what we Texans do when we see damsels in distress.”

  She smiled at that and her hand on his shoulder squeezed. “Thank you. You can put me down now.”

  “Whoa, not so fast. I’ve got you, so stay put as long as you need to.”

  “You are one strong swimmer,” the robust woman with bushy gray hair declared. Planting her hands on her floral-print hips, she grinned at him. “I don’t think my horse could have moved as fast as you did getting out there to these two. We can’t thank you enough. I’m Norma Sue.”

  “And I’m Adela. You were a true blessing to us today,” said the third woman, a delicate wisp of a woman with wise blue eyes that shone against her short, snowy white hair. “The Lord sent you along at the perfect moment.”

  “Yes, he did,” the redhead gushed. “I’m Esther Mae, and this is my niece, Kelsey Wilcox. She would have drowned if not for you. And she was looking so stunning in that gold evening dress too. You should have seen her racing out there to save my Millie.”

  “I’m fine now. Got my breath back,” the mermaid insisted, her voice watery but stronger. “You really can put me down now. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. She looked pale, and the silky skin of her arms still felt cold. “That was quite a scare you just had.”

  Esther Mae scooted close. “Yes, it was, Kelsey. Why, he might need to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on you.”

  “Hush, Esther Mae Wilcox,” Norma Sue snapped, booting her out of the way with a well-aimed hip. “You only do that with victims who aren’t responding.”

  Brent laughed and so did Kelsey, although with a tremor. His arms tightened about her before he finally complied and set her on her feet. “There you go. Easy does it,” he urged when she wobbled. He kept his hands on her, steadying her.

  A brief, uncertain smile fluttered over her lips, and he felt it wing its way through him like a butterfly caught on the breeze. She was captivating—no matter that her hair clung to her in dripping sheets. Her blue gaze called to every protective instinct he had.