Daring Brides Page 4

  “Ladies,” she called out, taking his hand. “Brian will see me to the church after we take a drive. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Brian McConnell!” her mom called out. “If you are taking my daughter off for a pre-wedding quickie, I will box your ears.”

  Few people could make a grown man blush like Linda Hale. “Jeez, Mrs. Hale, I’m not…cripes…I’d never.”

  “Good,” her mom said. “And please call me Linda, dear. You’re not ten years old anymore.”

  As they walked to his car, Jill leaned in to murmur, “No, you sure aren’t, thank God. I believe you’ve grown out in all the right areas.”

  His thumb rubbed the back of her hand. “Yeah, I rather like being taller than you. For a few years there, you made me feel like a midget.”

  “You should have experienced it from my perspective. I was fourteen and five ten while all of you boys topped out at five seven. It made school dances a true horror.”

  “But I still danced with you anyway.” He opened the car door for her.

  “Not that you could dance,” she said with a knowing wink, referring to the dance lessons she’d tried to give him.

  “I’ll ignore that and finish my sentence. I was about to say that I always will. Dance with you, that is.”

  “Ah,” she said, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

  When he drove into town and pulled up in front of the cemetery, she didn’t have to pretend to wipe the tears running down her face. He helped her do that with a gentle finger as tears shined in his own Bengal-tiger-blue eyes.

  “I thought we should have Jemma with us today since…” he said, trailing off to clear his throat.

  Her eyes scanned across the graveyard to find her best friend’s grave. When Jemma had died nearly eight months ago of a heart murmur, her own heart had been yanked out and flattened by a fleet of tractor trailers on the highway.

  “Since she couldn’t come,” she finished for him, her own voice as hoarse as his. “You really are the sweetest man alive. Have I told you that today?”

  He wrapped her up in his arms. “No, but feel free to say it every day. I have a feeling we’re going to need some reminding. All right. Now, let’s go see our friend.”

  When he came around to her car door and helped her out, he snagged a bouquet of pink roses from the back. Jill sniffed when she saw them and then reached for his hand. Pain pinching her heart, she walked with him through the gray markers of death.

  ***

  Brian hadn’t expected to feel grief squeeze his chest on his wedding day, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about all the good old times he’d shared with Jill. Which had led him to think about their two best friends growing up: Jemma and Pete. As kids, they’d always been known as the Four Musketeers. They had bonded on the first day of kindergarten after toilet papering the schoolroom together because it was…well, impossible to resist the pink and blue toilet paper in the boys’ and girls’ bathrooms.

  The school had switched to standard toilet paper soon after, but that had only been the start of a long career as practical jokers. The Four Musketeers went on to hang purple pens on pink ribbons from the florescent light fixtures in third grade. In seventh grade, they smuggled a dozen pink plastic flamingos into their classroom. And when they were sophomores in high school, they freed dozens of frogs destined for the cutting block in biology class after Jill and Jemma’s protests of animal cruelty were ignored by the administration.

  Now, Jemma was gone way too soon. And Pete…well, they weren’t very good friends anymore. Pete had left town after Jemma’s death, needing to escape the weight of old memories, and they hadn’t spoken since.

  “Pete’s been here,” Jill said when they stopped in front of Jemma’s grave.

  Sure enough, a mixed bouquet of flowers—the same type Pete had always bought for Jemma when they were dating—lay against the gravestone. Brian traced Jemma’s name and the angel carved above it. “Yes, and they’re fresh.”

  Did that mean Pete had decided to come to their wedding, after all? After some discussion, Jill had agreed to extend a peace offering and invite him, but they hadn’t heard back.

  “Maybe he’ll come,” he told her, squeezing her hand.

  They’d both lost their best friends in different ways, and the hurt of it had rocked them to the core. Now, all they had were each other and this new family they were making together—and the wacky Hale family, of course.

  “I…wish Jem was here,” he whispered, his throat tight with emotion.

  “Me too,” Jill said, brushing away more tears. “I always thought she’d be standing at the altar with me.”

  Pete was supposed to have been his groomsman, but that hadn’t worked out either. He pulled her into his arms as she cried, and rocked them both. Then he felt a spot of warmth on his back, almost like Jemma’s comforting hand was resting there. Part of him thought he might be a little crazy, but he’d visited her here often, and he’d sensed it before. She was there. Or something of her was. And it soothed him like always.

  “She’s here,” he said in a soft tone against her neck. “Can’t you feel her?”

  She inhaled jaggedly and nodded. “Yes. When the baby gets big enough inside me, I want to come back and visit her. I…I just know the baby is going to kick…almost as if he or she can feel her too.”

  Talking about the baby kicking—the miracle they hadn’t meant to make—was pretty much enough to turn him to pudding. “Do you have any idea how much I love you? How precious you and the baby are to me? Jill…Jill…I’m so damn happy we’re together.”

  The laugh she uttered was a bit desperate with emotion. “Finally. I love you too. And you and the baby…well, it’s going to be awesome.”

  It hadn’t started out that way. He’d been shocked and more than a little freaked out at first. He hadn’t expected to make a baby before he was thirty, and certainly not before he was married, but sometimes fate knew better. Both he and Jill had pretty hard heads, so perhaps they’d needed a kick to their proverbial behinds.

  Jill pressed back and traced the top of Jemma’s grave. “I miss you, Jem. So much. I wish you could see my dress. Heck, I wish you could have been with me and my family when we bought it. I wish you could have been at my bachelorette party. I wish…”

  He reached for her hand again.

  “I wish you were still here, dammit.”

  “That’s my wish too,” he said. “But I have to believe she’ll find a way to be there.”

  His beautiful bride-to-be turned her head to gaze at him. She stopped his very breath, made his heart rate lull to a slow, thudding beat.

  “Like heavenvision instead of television?” she asked.

  “Or she could just be a ghost like in Charmed. She loved that show.”

  “We both did.”

  The silence grew around them. The wind rushed up and over them suddenly, sending the tree limbs into a playful dance, like the leaves were waving at them. And damn if the sun didn’t peek out from behind a cloud and shine on them with blinding light.

  “Yeah, I think she’s here,” Jill said quietly. “Let’s go get married, Bri.”

  He turned her to him and chucked her under the chin, something he used to do when he was flirting with her in high school. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Just like he was expecting, she poked him in the belly. They laughed a little, which eased their grief. And as they walked through the sunshine, heading back to the church to say their vows, they both felt a warmth on their backs and knew Jemma walked with them.

  ***

  Jill took a moment to admire her dress in the full-length mirror of the church bridal room. Her dress wasn’t white—and not because she was knocked up. Nope. She’d meant to wear white, but that was before she’d seen this yellow wedding dress tucked away on a rack in the corner of the wedding shop with a sign above it saying For the Daring Bride. She hadn’t been able to resist. Color. It was her best friend.

  While the s
unshine tone might be too daring for some, the dress itself was simple, suiting her tastes. The chiffon skirt fell to the ground in a sumptuous line while the bodice’s material crisscrossed over her breasts and then curled over her shoulders. She’d chosen a simple wedding flower crown rather than a traditional veil. The white cherry blossoms contrasted beautifully with her red hair and gave her the dreamy elegance of a flower child bride, something she rather liked.

  “You look beautiful, Jill,” Meredith said from beside her.

  The rest of her family echoed her sister’s comment, oohing and ahhing over her.

  Everyone had understood the reason for her spontaneous drive after hearing that Brian had taken her to visit Jemma’s grave. They’d all loved Jemma, so a few of them had teared up too.

  “You look pretty darn beautiful too,” she said back to her sister, running her hands down the silky fabric of her dress. It rippled when she sashayed in place, and the fabric felt luxurious against her thigh-high-stocking-clad legs, which were going to drive Brian crazy later.

  “I never thought I would look good in purple,” Meredith said, pointing down at her dress, “but this shade is actually quite lovely.”

  “Like you would have gone for a deep purple. I knew I needed to keep it romantic. Violet seemed appropriate.” And the dress was a simple A-line, in keeping with her and Brian’s wish to go a little more casual.

  Except in the food department. She was marrying a chef, after all.

  Everyone else was dressed in simple, flowing dresses—some silk, some chiffon—in bold colors suiting her Hale cousins’ style. Okay, everyone except for Peggy, who was wearing a navy pantsuit. Jill’s mom was wearing a lovely violet mother-of-the-bride dress with white pearls beaded across the scoop neckline.

  “I have something for you,” Meredith said, reaching into her blue overnight bag. “It might make you cry, but we can always re-do your makeup.”

  She braced herself as Meredith pulled out a black jewelry box. “What is it?”

  Her sister opened it with a click. “I know how much you wanted Jemma here, and so did her mom. She wanted you to wear Jemma’s pearl earrings. They’re part of your wedding present from her family.”

  Her lip wobbled, and sure enough, a couple of fat tears trailed down her face as she stared at those luminescent pearls. “Oh, my. That was so sweet of her.” She remembered Jemma receiving those pearls for her sixteenth birthday. They’d been her favorite accessory that summer.

  She took them out and fitted them into her ear lobes, handling them delicately. They seemed to glow, and she felt that same warmth on her back she’d experienced in the graveyard. Taking a deep breath, she pointed to her own overnight bag.

  “Hand that to me, please,” she asked her sister.

  When Meredith did, she dug inside for the black box holding the necklace she’d decided to wear. She hadn’t told Brian, but she knew it would mean the world to him. She opened the box. For her high school graduation present, he’d bought her a simple gold heart necklace with J&B, BFFs engraved on the back. It wasn’t fancy, but it was exactly what she wanted to wear, and it felt so right to pair it with Jemma’s pearl earrings.

  “Brian is going to be moved when he sees that necklace, honey,” her mom said, putting her arm around her waist. “I’m so proud of you two. Nothing could make me happier than seeing the two of you get married.”

  “Not to mention the fact that you’re gaga for your future grandchild,” Jill responded with a knowing wink.

  Her mom raised her hands. “Guilty.”

  “I wish Grandma Harriet could see me today,” Jill said, thinking about the wonderful woman who’d made her cookies and supported her dream to go into business on her own, leaving her with the money to pursue just such a path when she passed away.

  “She is, honey,” her mom said, “right along with Jemma.”

  She sniffed, and Natalie—ever vigilant in her wedding emergency kit duties—handed her a tissue. Wiping her eyes, she took one last look in the mirror and then glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten till five.

  “I’m getting married in ten minutes,” she whispered, feeling a strange sense of unreality wash over her. Sometimes it was so hard to believe all her dreams were finally coming true.

  A knock sounded on the door. Her mom went to answer it.

  “Oh, Jillie Bean,” her dad said, stepping inside. “You look beautiful, sweetheart. Simply beautiful.”

  She walked over and kissed Alan Hale’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You girls better go find your seats,” he told them, chucking Moira under the chin as she and her sisters fanned out.

  “We’ll see you out there,” Peggy said with a distinct nod.

  Her mom kissed her cheek before following the others. “I better go find my seat too. Alan, you take care of our girls.”

  Just after her mom stepped out of the room, Jill heard the unmistakable tap of a cane on the floor. She looked over, and sure enough, Grandpa Hale came inside.

  “I thought I’d pop in and kiss the bride before all the shenanigans started,” he said.

  Leave it to her grandpa to refer to a wedding that way. She was already smiling as she kissed his cheek.

  “I’m so glad you came back here, Grandpa,” she told him. “I was missing Grandma just now.”

  He coughed. “My mind was in the same place. She would have loved to see you getting married, especially to Brian. She had this inkling you two would end up together, even when he left Dare Valley and broke your heart.”

  She pressed a hand to her heart. “I didn’t know she felt that way.”

  “She was a wise woman,” he told her. “She didn’t think you’d appreciate her saying that, given how angry you were at Brian back then. Now, he and I are business partners in his new restaurant. She would have loved that.”

  “I love it too,” she said, straightening the boutonniere on his gray suit. “You look pretty handsome for an old rascal.”

  “You look pretty good yourself,” he said with a wink.

  The music from the church organ filtered back to them, signaling the start of the wedding. Grandpa blew them a kiss and headed off to find his seat. Jill faced her dad and sister.

  “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Meredith gathered her bouquet from the table and took her position in the back of the church, waiting for the cue in the music to begin her walk down the aisle. Jill reached for her own bouquet. The simple arrangement of lavender roses, purple peonies, and white Stephanotis was stunning against the buttery tones of her dress. Plus, the purple made her happy.

  “Are you ready, kiddo?” her dad asked when the music she and Brian had chosen started to play.

  “The Wedding March” hadn’t been their style, so they’d settled on “Marry Me” by Train. The sound of the instrumental version conducted by the local band they’d hired was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered and threaded her arm through his.

  As she walked down the aisle, she held her head high and looked at Brian. He was so handsome in a heather gray tux with a purple vest and necktie. His boutonniere was a simple lavender rose. His Bengal-tiger-blue eyes gleamed the closer she came, heavy with longing and love.

  She didn’t have eyes for anyone but him, and it took her a moment to realize her dad was turning her and kissing her on the cheek.

  “I love you, Jillie,” he whispered.

  “I love you too, Dad,” she whispered back.

  She stepped away from her dad, toward Brian.

  Toward her new life.

  ***

  Brian held out his hand to her, his heart thundering in his chest, and Jill clasped it tightly after handing Meredith her bouquet.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said softly.

  Her mouth curved. “Thanks. You look pretty handsome yourself.”

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked, gazing down at her dress. Yellow was so perfect for
her. She hadn’t said a word to him about her decision to go with something other than white, but it suited her to a tee.

  “I’ve been ready for years,” she said in a near whisper.

  “Thanks for waiting for me to catch on,” he responded just as quietly.

  And with that they turned to the minister, ready to make the final commitment.

  He couldn’t look away from her. Her long red hair curled beautifully around her shoulders, and the flower thingee in her hair made her seem younger and more vulnerable. It reminded him of how she’d looked in high school, back when he’d been too scared to ask her to go out with him for real.

  Perhaps they would have gotten together years ago if he’d been braver, but he planned to more than make up for the time they’d lost.

  He bowed his head as a new reverence came over him. Declaring his love for her in front of their family and friends was a little nerve-racking, but it felt so right to make this commitment in front of her parents, who were clasping each other’s hands so tightly in the front row. His now-divorced parents had come and were seated rows apart, and seeing them again had been as strained and awkward as always. In some ways, Jill’s mom and dad felt more like parents to him than his own messed up family did, which was one reason he’d spent so much time over at their house as a kid—the other being Jill. Jill’s mom had taught him to cook, fostered his interest and ability in all things food, and helped him dream he could be a chef. He was so proud to be a permanent member of the Hale clan.

  When she said her vows, her voice broke, and he dug out the handkerchief Arthur Hale had given him before the wedding, saying a wise groom was a prepared groom. Rather than hand her the silk cloth, he wiped the tears away gently himself, and the tenderness made more tears fall. She might be tough, but she needed tenderness too.

  When it came time for him to say his vows, he had to clear his voice a couple of times over the thickening in his throat. He’d practiced them at least ten times, but they held new meaning in this moment, when her face was glowing with so much love he thought his heart would burst.