Courtney sighed. “Believe it or not, I know all that—I do. I just can’t make my illogical feelings see logic, if that makes sense. It’s like with my writing and Heimel. I could never stay here permanently, because then this would become the place I live, not the place that inspires me. Then The Meltdown Match and Mitch happened, and I finally thought that everything had changed. But now I don’t know anything anymore.”
Hannah’s mouth parted as she stood there, blinking at her sister. “Oh my heck. You’re like one of those athletes who won’t cut their hair or wash their socks the entire season because they think it will jinx them.”
Courtney brought her knees to her chest and frowned out the window. “Told you I was a mess.”
“I’ll say.” Hannah shook her head in disbelief. “Know what? I think this is one of those times when your over-active imagination is getting the best of you. You live in the real world. You know that, right? A world where apple trees don’t grow fruit during the winter, the wind doesn’t have healing properties, and the sun’s definitely not a matchmaker.”
Courtney frowned. She’d always liked to believe that her books had the power to inspire, but maybe they didn’t. Maybe they only created daydreamers with unrealistic expectations. Like her.
So much for thinking this talk would help. It had only made things worse. “I know,” she finally muttered.
“Do you? Really? Because I’m not so sure.” Hannah rose to her feet and walked toward a small bookcase where she pulled out the copies of each of Courtney’s four published books. She held one up. “Remember what inspired this one? You came home for the summer, and Mitch organized a camping trip. It was windy, and I sprained my ankle, but no one had an ace bandage in their first aid kit, so Mitch made a joke about how if wind could heal, it would be better in no time. The next day, you started writing this book.”
She tossed it on the bed and held up another. “Remember when you took a semester off and came home in the dead of winter? It was below freezing outside, and to help pass the time, Mitch invited everyone over to his house for games. You said you were craving an apple, and Mitch said not to worry. He had a tree out back that grew apples all year long. Then he disappeared and came back with an apple.”
Another book landed by the first before Hannah held up the next. “And this one, about a small town that produces amazing artists? That story came about after Mitch made us all go see Lilly’s painting at that gallery in Anchorage. While we were there, he said that Heimel must have something special in the water, because not only did Lily’s painting make it in a gallery, but you’d just published your first book.”
The book landed on top of the others as Hannah held up the last one. “What about the time we went spelunking? Don’t you remember?”
Hannah’s voice seemed to fade into the background as Courtney’s gaze dropped to her hands. She did remember now. Everything. The apple. The healing wind. The magical town. The cave of truth, where no one could lie.
All this time, she’d been giving Heimel credit for her inspiration when it had really been Mitch—the same person who’d inspired her with her latest idea. How had she been so blind? So stupid? So wrong?
Tears sprang to her eyes at the same time Hannah’s hand came to rest on her knee, bringing Courtney back to the present. “Don’t you see? What you have with Mitch is way more miraculous than winning some stupid ice-melt contest. What you have with him is something some people look for their entire lives and never find.”
It was true. Even with tears marring her vision, Courtney could see more clearly now than ever before. A warm feeling spread through her body, taking away the heaviness and weaving in peace and joy—the kind of joy that trumped everything else. Her sister was right. What she and Mitch had went way beyond superstitions and magic and fantasy.
What she and Mitch had was real.
Her arms went around her sister as she simultaneously laughed and cried. “Thank you so much for pointing out how stupid I am.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “You really are the best.”
“Duh.”
Chapter Eleven
Mitch sat in his boat in the middle of the lake and flung his fishing pole forward, casting his line as far as he could. Then he reeled it in, too fast to actually catch anything. Not that he wanted to. What he wanted was for the unsettled feeling in his gut to go away and for the image of Courtney backing away from him to leave his mind.
Normally after a bad day, fishing had a calming effect on him, but today was different. Today he’d lived with the worry that Courtney could walk out of his life yet again. That she’d show up at any moment with the news that it was time for her to move on.
His stomach in knots, Mitch cast the line again before turning the reel as fast as he could, as if retrieving the hook would somehow bring Courtney back. But when the hook resurfaced empty, all it did was serve as a reminder of how he felt. Empty.
Over and over, he cast and reeled, cast and reeled, looking for a solace he couldn’t find. She needed some time. She needed space. She needed distance.
From him.
The sick feeling returned with a vengeance, and Mitch threw his fishing pole to the bottom of the boat. It was no use. The only thing that would help would be for Courtney to tell him she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Mitch!” The faraway voice seemed to echo off the lake and surrounding trees.
He looked around, finally spotting long, blonde hair blowing in the breeze and two arms waving at him. Courtney was here. Ready to talk. About what? Queasiness filled his stomach as he started the engine and headed for the dock. He pulled up moments later, avoiding her gaze, too afraid of what he’d see.
“Hey,” she said, sounding happy and light.
Mitch glanced up, caught her smile, and felt more confused than ever. He tied up his boat slowly before stepping onto the dock and eyeing her warily.
She started to move toward him, but stopped and clasped her fingers together, looking suddenly nervous. “I guess you probably want an explanation.”
“That all depends on what your explanation is,” Mitch said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts.
Courtney took a tentative step toward him and drew in a deep breath. “Okay, so here goes. When I found out that you were behind the contest, I sort of freaked out about, well, everything. I wanted to believe the contest was real, that we really were destined to be together, and then I found out it wasn’t. It threw me a little.”
Mitch wanted to stop her, to pull her to him, give her a good shake and tell her that they were destined to be together. It was something he’d known for years. But his hands remained at his sides and his mouth shut.
“But then Hannah bluntly pointed out that I’ve been wrong about everything. Especially you.”
Him? She’d been wrong about him? What was that supposed to mean? That she wanted to be with him, or that she didn’t? The way she looked at him gave him hope, but her words didn’t match. “I don’t understand,” Mitch finally said.
Her head cocked to the side as she approached him and took his hands in hers. “You’re my inspiration. Not Heimel. Not coming home. You.”
For the first time since Courtney had walked out on him earlier, Mitch felt his chest lighten. He had no idea how she’d come to that conclusion, but if it meant she wasn’t going anywhere, he’d take it. Or did she mean that?
“Wait, so where does that leave me, exactly?” Mitch said. “Do you still feel the need to move away? And if so, then what? Come back to me instead of Heimel? Like I’m some... I really don’t know what to compare it to. All I know is that I wouldn’t be okay with it.”
Her lips drew into a smile. “What I’m saying is that I’m here to stay. For good.”
“But what about the whole needing to be re-inspired thing?” Mitch wasn’t quite ready to believe her.
Courtney intertwined her fingers with his and peered up at him. “Look, I don’t know what the future holds for me, for
us, or for my writing. But what I do know is that from here on out, I’m choosing to believe in us rather than some silly superstitions. I’m in love with you, Mitchell Winters, and I want to stay here with you. For always and no matter what.”
A light breeze blew past, making Mitch wonder if the wind really did have restorative properties. As it came and went, all of the heaviness and worry and heartache seemed to leave with it, making him feel better than ever. He lifted Courtney’s hands, bringing her closer. “You’ll really be happy living here with me forever?”
“And ever,” she said without hesitation. “Although I do still want to travel and research places for my books. I’m just hoping you’ll come with me.”
The corners of Mitch’s mouth tugged up into a smile. “So long as you don’t mind checking out the engineering side of things while we’re there.”
“Of course not.” A teasing glint appeared in her eyes. “In fact, maybe my next book will be about an engineer.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Will his name be Mitch?”
“Definitely.”
“Will he have x-ray vision and be able to see through roads so people know exactly where to dig?”
Courtney’s lips twitched as she shook her head. “No.”
“Will he be a brilliant mathematician who never has to use a calculator?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Mitch shrugged, out of ideas. “Then I guess he’ll have to be the guy who can sense when two people are supposed to be together and manipulates the situation so they are.” He grinned as he tugged on a lock of her hair. “Like with salt.”
Her forehead creased in thought, and she drew her lower lip into her mouth for a moment before letting it out. “You mean like Cupid?”
Mitch frowned, picturing a naked cherub with a pink bow and tiny white wings. “No, not like cupid. That was just a joke—a bad one.”
“Well, I like it. And considering how all of my ideas have been inspired by one of your bad jokes, it definitely has merit.”
If that was the case, Mitch really needed to stop joking, especially when it came to characters named Mitch. “What about Hercules instead? He’s pretty cool.”
“No, I like Cupid.”
“Zeus? Poseidon? I’d even take Hades.”
Her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I think I’ve finally found your nickname—one that will be as fitting and endearing to you as Salt is to me.” She grinned. “Cupid. It’s perfect.”
This conversation was getting out of control. “No, it’s not perfect.”
“It totally is. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.” Her fingers pressed on the back of his neck, trying to pull his head toward hers, but Mitch resisted.
“Oh, c’mon, Cupid,” she said with a slight pout on her lips. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”
Mitch grasped for something—anything—to make the nickname go away. “Okay, fine, you win. I promise to stop calling you Salt if you never say that word again.”
“Cupid, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid—”
Mitch’s mouth covered hers with a kiss meant to erase all thoughts about engineers and books and Cupid. However, as her lips moved across his and her fingers worked their way through his hair, Mitch was the one who forgot about everything but her.
Epilogue
The day of June Solstice dawned overcast and rainy. Through her window, Courtney frowned at the skies as she smoothed her fingers against the soft satin of her wedding gown. This was all wrong. According to the weather report, the skies were supposed to be clear, the day sunny. A perfect day for an outdoor wedding.
Her mother kept promising that it would clear up, that Courtney needed to finish getting ready, but the clouds didn’t break, and the rain continued to splatter lightly against her window.
Not good.
Courtney’s stomach twisted into knots at the implication. She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. This was not the universe telling her that she shouldn’t marry Mitch or to pick another wedding day. It was just an unlucky coincidence. That’s all.
Horribly unlucky.
Her phone rang with Mitch’s ringtone, and Courtney quickly brought it to her ear. More than ever, she needed to hear his voice.
“No, this is not a bad omen, and yes, we’re still supposed to get married today,” Mitch said without preamble. “In fact, this is actually a good sign. It means our married life together will be full of surprises and never dull.”
Courtney couldn’t help her answering smile. She loved that he knew where her crazy thoughts were headed—and that he still wanted to marry her. More than that, he knew exactly what to say to erase the worried lines from her forehead.
“I was just thinking the exact same thing,” she said.
“Liar.”
Her smile widened. “Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, so where are we going to have the wedding now?”
“Outside, near the lake, as planned. It’s already set up, and the food is under that gazebo thing you rented, so we’re good.”
“So long as the food stays dry,” she said.
“Exactly.”
Courtney rolled her eyes and looked down, picturing rain splattering all over her dress while her short train skidded across the muddy ground. What would her hair look like after a few minutes in this weather? Not like it did now, that was for sure. “But what about my dress?”
“I don’t see a problem. It’s not like you’re planning to wear it again, are you?”
“Well no, but—” It was beautiful and white, and she didn’t want it to get muddy. She wanted it to look clean and perfect for the day her future daughter tried it on. Did she really have to explain that?
“But what?”
Courtney sighed. “My hair will go limp, and the pictures will look awful.”
“Oh please. You couldn’t look awful if you tried, and the pictures will give us a great story to tell our kids one day.”
An almost hysterical laugh escaped Courtney’s mouth, mostly because she actually found herself considering his suggestion. She threw up her free hand and plopped down on her bed. “Okay fine, Mr. Cupid Man; let’s get married in the rain.”
“That’s my girl. See you in an hour.” At least he’d let the cupid comment slide.
The phone went dead before Courtney could tell him she was only half serious. She frowned out the window once more before turning toward Hannah and her mother. “Looks like the outdoor wedding is still on.”
“Sweet!” Hannah said at the same time her mother excused herself to make a few phone calls and track down some umbrellas.
An hour later, Courtney found herself sitting in her dad’s car as he pulled into the muddy mess of the designated parking area. She’d exchanged her satin heels for tennis shoes and stepped into the squishy mud, holding her dress high while her mother positioned a large, multi-colored beach umbrella over their heads.
They squished their way to a large tent, where Courtney made her final preparations. Her mother cleaned off her shoes with wet wipes while Hannah fiddled with her hair. Thankfully, someone had brought a clear, plastic umbrella for Courtney’s father to carry down the aisle so they could dispense with the brightly colored one.
In no time at all, her mother disappeared, the music started, and Hannah left the tent, carrying a bouquet of fresh wildflowers.
Courtney’s dad held out his arm for his daughter. “Ready to go, sweet pea?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Her feet landed once more in the mud, and Courtney tried not to cringe as they made their way to the back of the crowd, where a live band huddled under a canopy and guests waited with various colored umbrellas. At least the wildflower garland looked lovely.
Through the drizzle and beneath her veil, Courtney’s eyes met Mitch’s. He stood at the front, looking beyond handsome wearing a black tux and holding a matching clear plastic umbrella. Her breath caught in her throat as
all thoughts of rain and mud and limp hair faded. In a matter of minutes, she would be his, and he, hers. They would leave this scene as man and wife and spend the rest of their lives together.
It really did feel like a miracle.
Her father led her to Mitch’s side, where she relinquished her father’s arm and kissed his cheek. Then she placed her fingers on Mitch’s warm palm and smiled when he held out his umbrella so she wouldn’t get wet.
“You look beautiful,” Mitch said, drawing her close. “Are you ready for this?”
“More than ready.”
“Me, too.” He tucked her arm in his and turned to face the pastor. In what seemed like minutes, they were pronounced man and wife beneath a dense canopy of clouds. Although the sun remained hidden, the warmth that spread through Courtney’s body made it feel as though it shone down on her with the promise of happiness.
Mitch handed the umbrella to the pastor, and raindrops dotted Courtney’s face and arms. But it didn’t matter, not when his hands framed her face and he looked at her in just that way, as if she was his everything. Courtney raised her mouth to his, smiling when his lips moved gently over hers in a kiss that would be forever engrained in her memory. He kissed her as though she were fragile and precious—something to treasure. Her heart swelled with the kind of love she’d only ever imagined in her mind and written in her books.
In that moment, Courtney’s world seemed to align, as if she’d finally been able to bridge the gap between fiction and real life. She’d always been a wisher, a hoper, a believer in something greater than the ordinary, but today it was no longer wishful thinking. It was reality. Her very own real-life fairytale come true.
She couldn’t wait to live it all out.
Rachael Anderson is the author of four novels and two novellas. She's the mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can't sing, doesn't dance, and despises tragedies, but she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating. You can read more about her and her books online at www.rachaelreneeanderson.com
A Timeless Romance Anthology: Summer Wedding Collection Page 15
