Holiday in Stone Creek

by Linda Lael Miller

  “I got a little peeved with him,” Jack admitted, “but he’s sound. He’d have been long gone if he wasn’t.”

  “You wouldn’t be taking off all of a sudden—on some important job that required your expertise?”

  “I’m good at what I do, Ashley,” Jack said. “But I’m not so good that I can’t delegate. Maybe I’ll hang out with Tanner sometimes, though, riding the range and all that cowboy-type stuff.”

  “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

  Jack chuckled. “It can’t be that much different from riding a camel,” he grinned. “And I’d be a whole lot closer to the ground.”

  That last statement sobered both of them.

  Jack might not be just closer to the ground, he might wind up under it.

  “I’m going to make it, Ashley,” he assured her.

  She dropped her forehead against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around him, let herself cling for a few moments. “You’d better,” she said. “You’d just better.”

  THREE DAYS LATER, the storm had finally moved on, leaving a crystalline world behind, trees etched with ice, blankets of white covering every roof.

  A private jet, courtesy of Brad, skimmed down onto the tarmac at a private airfield on the fringes of the Windy City, and Jack and Ashley turned to say temporary farewells to Jack’s entire family, gathered there to see them off.

  The whole clan would be traveling to Stone Creek for the wedding, which would take place in two weeks. Valentine’s Day would have been perfect, but with so many guests already booked to stay at the bed-and-breakfast, it was impossible, and neither Jack nor Ashley wanted to wait until the next one rolled around.

  Bill McKenzie pumped his eldest son’s hand, the hem of his expensive black overcoat flapping in a brisk breeze, then drew him into a bear hug.

  “Better get yourselves onto that plane and out of this wind,” Bill said, at last, his voice choked. He bent to kiss Ashley’s cheek. “I always wanted a daughter,” he added, in a whisper.

  Jack nodded, then shook hands with each of his brothers. Every handshake turned into a hug. Lastly, he embraced Abigail, his stepmother.

  Ashley looked away, grappling with emotions of her own, watched as the metal stairs swung down out of the side of the jet with an electronic hum. The pilot stood in the doorway, grinning, and she recognized Vince Griffin—the man who’d held a gun on her in her own kitchen, the night Ardith and Rachel arrived.

  “Better roll, boss,” he called to Jack. “There’s more weather headed this way, and I’d like to stay ahead of it.”

  Jack took Ashley’s arm, steered her gently up the steps, into the sumptuous cabin of the jet. There were eight seats, each set of two facing the other across a narrow fold-down table.

  “Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing here?” Vince asked Jack, blustering with manly bravado and boyishly earnest at the same time.

  “No,” Jack answered. “It’s obvious that you wangled the job so you could be the one to take us home to Stone Creek.”

  Home to Stone Creek. That sounded so good to Ashley, especially coming from Jack.

  Vince laughed. “I’m trying to get back in your good graces, boss,” he said, flipping a switch to retract the stairs, then shutting and securing the cabin door. “Is it working?”

  “Maybe,” Jack said.

  “I hate it when you say ‘maybe,’” Vince replied.

  “Just fly this thing,” Jack told him mildly, with mischief in his eyes. “I want to stay ahead of the weather as much as you do.”

  Vince nodded, retreated into the cockpit, and shut the door behind him.

  Solicitously, Jack helped Ashley out of her coat, sat her down in one of the sumptuous leather seats and swiveled it to buckle her seat belt for her.

  A thrill of anticipation went through her.

  Not yet, she told herself.

  Jack must have been reading her mind. “As soon as we get home,” he vowed, leaning over her, bracing himself on the armrests of her seat, “we’re going to do it like we’ve never done it before.”

  That remark inspired another hot shiver. “Are we, now?” she said, her voice deliberately sultry.

  Jack thrust himself away from her, since the plane was already taxiing down the runway, took his own seat across from hers and fastened his belt for takeoff.

  Four and a half hours later, they landed outside Stone Creek.

  Brad and Meg were waiting to greet them, along with Olivia and Tanner, Carly and Sophie, and Melissa. “Thank God you’re back,” Melissa said, close to Ashley’s ear, after hugging her. “I thought I was going to have to cook.”

  Brad stood squarely in front of Jack, Ashley noticed, out of the corner of her eye, his arms folded and his face stern.

  Jack did the same thing, gazing straight into Brad’s eyes.

  “Uh-oh,” Melissa breathed. “Testosterone overload.”

  Neither man moved. Or spoke.

  Olivia finally nudged Brad hard in the ribs. “Behave yourself, big brother,” she said. “Jack will be part of the family soon, and that means the two of you have to get along.”

  It didn’t mean any such thing, of course, but to Ashley’s profound relief, Brad softened visibly at Olivia’s words. Then, after some hesitation, he put out a hand.

  Jack took it.

  After the shake, Brad said, “That doesn’t mean you can mistreat my kid sister, hotshot.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it,” Jack said. “I love her.” He curved an arm around Ashley, pulled her close against his side, looked down into her upturned face. “Always have, always will.”

  Two weeks later

  Stone Creek Presbyterian Church

  “IT’S TACKY,” OLIVIA PROTESTED to Melissa, zipping herself into her bridesmaid’s dress with some difficulty, since she was still a little on the pudgy side from having the twins. “Coming to a wedding with a U-Haul hitched to the back of your car!”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “I have to be in Phoenix bright and early Monday morning to start my new job,” she said, yet again. The three sisters had been over the topic many times. Most of Melissa’s belongings had already been moved to the fancy condo in Scottsdale; the rented trailer contained the last of them.

  Initially, flushed with the success of helping Ashley steer the bed-and-breakfast through the Valentine’s Day rush, Melissa had seemed to be wavering a little on the subject of moving away. After all, she liked her job at the small, local firm where she’d worked since graduating from law school, but then Dan Guthrie had suddenly eloped with Holly the Waitress. Now nothing would move Melissa to stay.

  She was determined to shake the dust of Stone Creek off her feet and start a whole new life—elsewhere.

  Ashley turned her back to her sisters and her mind to her wedding, smoothing the beaded skirt of her ivory-silk gown in front of the grainy full-length mirror affixed to the back of the pastor’s office door. She and Melissa had scoured every bridal shop within a two-hundred-mile radius to find it, while Olivia searched the internet, and the dress was perfect.

  Not so the bridesmaids’ outfits, Ashley reflected, happily rueful. They were bright yellow taffeta, with square necklines, puffy sleeves, big bows at the back, and way too many ruffles.

  What was I thinking? Ashley asked herself, stifling a giggle.

  The answer, of course, was that she hadn’t been thinking. She’d fallen wholly, completely and irrevocably in love with Jack McKenzie, dazed in the daytime, crazed at night, when they made love until they were both sweaty and breathless and gasping for air.

  The yellow dresses must have seemed like a good idea at the time, she supposed. Olivia and Melissa had surely argued against that particular choice—but Ashley honestly had no memory of it.

  “We’re going to look like giant parakeets in the pictures,” Olivia complained now, but her eyes were warm and moist as she came to stand behind Ashley in front of the mirror. “You look so beautiful.”

  Ashley turned, and she and Olivia em
braced. “I’ll make it up to you,” Ashley said. “Having to wear those awful dresses, I mean.”

  Melissa looked down at her billowing skirts and shuddered. “I don’t see how,” she said doubtfully.

  A little silence fell.

  Olivia straightened Ashley’s veil.

  “I wish Mom and Dad and Big John could be here,” Ashley admitted softly.

  “I know,” Olivia replied, kissing her cheek.

  The church organist launched into a prelude to “Here Comes the Bride.”

  “Showtime,” Melissa said, giving Ashley a quick squeeze. “Be happy.”

  Ashley nodded, blinking. She couldn’t cry now. It would make her mascara run.

  A rap sounded at the office door, and Brad entered at Olivia’s “Come in,” looking beyond handsome in his tuxedo. “Ready to be given away?” he asked solemnly, his gaze resting on Ashley in surprised bemusement, as though she’d just changed from a little girl to a woman before his very eyes. A grin crooked up a corner of his mouth. “We can always duck out the back door and make a run for it if you’ve changed your mind.”

  Ashley smiled, shook her head. Walked over to her brother.

  Brad kissed her forehead, then lowered the front of the veil. “Jack McKenzie is one lucky man,” he said gravely, but a genuine smile danced in his eyes. “Gonna be okay?”

  Ashley took his arm. “Gonna be okay,” she confirmed.

  “We’re supposed to go down the aisle first,” Melissa said, grabbing Olivia’s hand and dragging her past Brad and Ashley, through the open doorway, and into the corridor that opened at both ends of the small church.

  “Is he out there?” Ashley whispered to Brad, suddenly nervous, as he escorted her over the threshold between one life and another.

  “Jack?” Brad pretended not to remember. “I’m pretty sure I spotted him up front, with Tanner beside him. Guess it could have been the pastor, though.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Oh, yeah. The pastor’s wearing robes. The man I saw was in a tuxedo, tugging at his collar every couple of seconds.”

  “Stop it,” Ashley said, but she was smiling. “I’m nervous enough without you giving me a hard time, big brother.”

  They joined Melissa and Olivia at the back of the church.

  Over their heads, and through a shifting haze of veil, extreme anticipation, and almost overwhelming joy, Ashley saw Jack standing up front, his back straight, his head high with pride.

  In just two weeks, he’d come a long way toward a full recovery, filling out, his color returning. He claimed it was the restorative power of good sex.

  Ashley blushed, remembering some of that sex, and looking forward to a lot more of it.

  The organist struck the keys with renewed vigor.

  “There’s our cue,” Brad whispered to Ashley, bending his head slightly so she could hear.

  “Go!” Melissa said to Olivia, giving her a little push.

  Olivia moved slowly up the aisle, between pews jammed with McKenzies, O’Ballivans, McKettricks, and assorted friends.

  Just before starting up the aisle herself, Melissa turned, found Ashley’s hand under the bouquet of snow-white peonies Brad had had flown in from God-knew-where and squeezed it hard.

  “Go,” Brad told Melissa, with a chuckle.

  She made a face at him and started resolutely up the aisle.

  Once she and Olivia were both in front of the altar, opposite Jack and Tanner, the organist pounded the keys with even more vigor than before. Ashley floated toward the altar, gripping Brad’s strong arm, her gaze fixed on Jack.

  The guests rose to their feet, beaming at Ashley.

  Jack smiled, encouraged her with a wink.

  And then she was at his side.

  She heard the minister ask, “Who giveth this woman in marriage?”

  Heard Brad answer, “Her family and I.”

  Ashley’s eyes began to smart again, and she wondered if anyone had ever died of an overdose of happiness.

  Brad retreated, and after that, Ashley was only peripherally aware of her surroundings. Her entire focus was on Jack.

  Somehow, she got through the vows.

  She and Jack exchanged rings.

  And then the minister pronounced them man and wife.

  Jack raised the front of Ashley’s veil to kiss her, and his eyes widened a little, in obvious appreciation, when he saw that she’d forsworn her usual French braid for a shoulder-length style that stood out around her face.

  She’d spent the morning at Cora’s Curl and Twirl over in Indian Rock, Cora herself doing the honors, snipping and blow-drying and phoofing endlessly.

  The wedding kiss was chaste, at least in appearance.

  Up close and personal, it was nearly orgasmic.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the minister said triumphantly, raising his voice to be heard at the back of the church, “may I present Mr. and Mrs. Jack McKenzie!”

  Cheers erupted.

  The organ thundered.

  Jack and Ashley hurried down the aisle, emerging into the sunlight, and were showered with birdseed and good wishes.

  The reception, held at the bed-and-breakfast, was everything a bride could hope for. Even the weather cooperated; the snow had melted, the sun was out, the sky cloudless and heartbreakingly blue.

  “I ordered a sunny day just for you,” Jack whispered to her, as he helped her out of the limo in front of the house.

  For the next two hours, the place was crammed to the walls with wedding guests. Pictures were taken, punch and cake were served. So many congratulatory hugs, kisses and handshakes came their way that Ashley began to wish the thing would end already.

  She and Jack would spend their wedding night right there at home, although they were leaving on their honeymoon the next day.

  The sky was beginning to darken toward twilight when the guests began to leave, one by one, couple by couple, and then in groups.

  Bill and Abigail McKenzie and their large extended family would occupy all the guestrooms at the bed-and-breakfast, so they lingered, somewhat at loose ends until Brad diplomatically invited them out to Stone Creek Ranch, where the party would continue.

  Goodbyes were said.

  Except for the caterers, already cleaning up, Melissa was the last to leave.

  “I may never forgive you for this wretched dress,” she told Ashley, tearing up.

  “Maybe you’ll get back at me one of these days,” Ashley answered softly, as Jack moved away to give the twins room to say their farewells. Melissa planned to drive to Scottsdale that same night. “You’ll be the bride, and I’ll be the one who has to look like a giant parakeet.”

  Melissa huffed out a breath, shook her head. “I think you’re safe from that horrid fate,” she said wistfully. “I plan to throw myself into my career. Before you know it, I’ll be a Supreme Court Justice, just as you said.” She gave a wobbly little smile that didn’t quite stick. “At least my memoirs will probably be interesting.”

  Ashley kissed her sister’s cheek. “Take care,” she said.

  Melissa chuckled. “As soon as I swap this dress for a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and the heels for sneakers, I’ll be golden.”

  With that, Melissa headed for the downstairs powder room, where she’d stashed her getaway clothes.

  When she emerged, she was dressed for the road, and the ruffly yellow gown was wadded into a bundle under her right arm.

  “Will you still love me if I toss this thing into the first Dumpster I see?” she quipped, as she and Ashley stood at the front door.

  “I’ll still love you,” Ashley said, “no matter what.”

  Melissa gave a brave sniffle. “See you around, Mrs. McKenzie,” she said.

  And then she opened the front door, dashed across the porch and down the front steps, and along the walk. She got into her little red sports car, which looked too small to pull a trailer, tossed the offending bridesmaid’s dress onto the passenger seat and waved.

  Jack was standing rig
ht behind Ashley when she turned from closing the door, and he kissed her briefly on the mouth. “She’s an O’Ballivan,” he said. “She’ll be all right.”

  Ashley nodded. Swallowed.

  “The caterers will be out of here in a few minutes,” Jack told her, with a twinkle. “I promised to overtip if they’d just kick it up a notch. Wouldn’t you like to get out of that dress, beautiful as it is?”

  She stood on tiptoe, kissed the cleft in her husband’s chin. “I might need some help,” she told him sweetly. “It has about a million buttons down the back.”

  Jack chuckled. “I’m just the man for the job,” he said.

  Mrs. Wiggins came, twitchy-tailed, out of the study, where she’d probably been hiding from the hubbub of the reception, batted playfully at the lace trim on the hem of Ashley’s wedding gown.

  “No you don’t,” she told the kitten, hoisting the little creature up so they were nose to nose, she and Mrs. Wiggins. “This dress is going to be an heirloom. Someday, another bride will wear it.”

  “Our daughter,” Jack said, musing. “If she’s as beautiful as her mother, every little boy under the age of five ought to be warned.”

  Ashley smiled, still holding Mrs. Wiggins. “Get rid of the caterers,” she said, and headed for the stairs.

  Barely a minute later, she was inside the room that had been hers alone, until today—not that she and Jack hadn’t shared it every night since they got back from Chicago.

  The last wintry light glowed at the windows, turning the antique lace curtains to gold. White rose petals covered the bed, and someone had laid a fire on the hearth, too.

  Their suitcases stood just outside the closet door, packed and ready to go. Tomorrow at this time, she and Jack would be in Hawaii, soaking up a month of sunshine.

  Ashley’s heart quickened. She put a hand to her throat briefly, feeling strangely like a virgin, untouched, eager to be deflowered, and a little nervous at the prospect.

  The room looked the same, and yet different, now that she and Jack were married.

  Married. Not so long ago, she’d pretty much given up on marriage—and then Jack “McCall” had arrived by ambulance, looking for a place to heal.

  So much had happened since then, some of it terrifying, most of it better than good.