Daring Brides (5 page)

“Good point.” She
did
know how she was. If there had been a high school yearbook category for the Woman Who Will Most Probably Be Late For Her Own Wedding, she would have swept it. She had always been way too spontaneous for her own good.

“Let’s get a move on then,” her cousin, Moira, said, picking up the plastic garment bag holding her dress. “I have the dress.”

“I have the makeup bag,” her other cousin, Caroline, said.

Her mom rushed up and gave her a big hug. “And I have you, Jillie Bean.”

Meredith bustled in and hugged them both. “Me too.”

Seconds later, her cousins joined in, and it was a giant hug fest. When they pulled apart, Peggy McBride’s face was pinched tight since Jill had pulled her in. Okay, more like dragged her in.

“This is a little too much girl bonding for me.”

“Well, you are the deputy sheriff of this town,” Jill said to pacify her discomfort. “You don’t want to ruin your rep.”

“Let’s go,” Meredith said, picking up her purse and Jill’s overnight bag.

She and Brian had spent the previous night apart so that they could reflect on how far they’d come together before the big day. And of course…as Brian had said in a husky tone, so they could both imagine the wedding night. It was still pretty weird to be horny and pregnant, she had to admit, but she was willing to get used to it. With a cherry on top, she might add.

They hustled out of the girls-only house. All men had been banned the previous night for a Hale sleepover. Even poor Tanner and his and Meredith’s dog, Hugo, since he technically had a weenie.

To Jill’s horror, Brian’s SUV came rumbling down the driveway just as she was opening the passenger side of her sister’s car.

“Groom alert!” Meredith called out.

The women started to shriek. Peggy even ran toward the SUV with her hands held out like a traffic cop’s, prepared to stop him with her flinty cop look.

That didn’t deter Brian. No, he cut the engine and hopped out.

“Hello, ladies,” he drawled, acting like he wasn’t breaking the biggest rule on the planet.

“Get back in the car, McConnell,” Peggy said in her meanest voice ever, “before I cuff you and take you downtown—to the church where you belong.”

“Yeah, Brian,” Moira said, hiding the wedding dress, which thankfully could not be seen through the garment bag. “Shoo.”

He laughed and headed directly toward Jill. She knew that look. He wasn’t going to be stopped, not even by the hen house he now faced.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in total exasperation. “You aren’t supposed to see me before the wedding.”

“I’m not supposed to see you in your wedding dress,” he told her. “I looked up the rules.”

She rolled her eyes. “This had better be good.”

His brow arched, and his smile grew to a grin akin to the one sported by a certain Cheshire cat. “What faith you have in me. I worried you might panic and think I was calling things off. I’m in awe of you, Red.”

Her heart did swell a little at his praise. He was right. It was a big deal that her mind hadn’t instantly turned Negative Nancy at the sight of his SUV. “I believe in us. I know you do too. Finally.”

“I’ll ignore that crack about me being slow since it’s our wedding day.” He stepped forward and laid his hand on her belly. “But I have a slight correction. I believe in
all
of us. Now, take a ride with me.”

If not for the look in his eyes and the gentle touch he spared for the baby growing inside her, she might have shooed him off. But he had a purpose for being here—a sweet one, it seemed—and this was her day. Besides, wasn’t she known for being spontaneous?

“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 sunshine 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.