Without a Past (24 page)

The thought tickled her funny bone, and she started to laugh. When tears hit, Jenny pinched her upper arm. Hard. “Snap out of it, Andrea. You can't control everything. Love has its own agenda. We're just along for the ride.”

Andi's stuttering laughter came under control. “But I always
thought
I could, Jen. First, I tried to find a father for us. When Ida turned down all my daddy candidates, I started looking for a guy who could be everything to each of us. But if such a guy exists he's probably an alien.”

Kristin smiled sympathetically. “I know what you mean. Every time I meet a new guy, I think, ‘Husband material, maybe, but will he make a good dad for Zach?'” She sighed. “I guess we're not as lucky as Jen. She fell in love with the right guy. Twice.”

Jenny looked down, as if uncomfortable with her sister's comment. “Actually,” she said, “Josh and I were great friends, and I loved him, but I think at least part of what I felt for him was habit. He was my safety net. With Josh around I never had to risk that part of me that was afraid to paint, to write, to express myself.”

“Wow,” Kristin said. “And with Sam?”

“It's just the opposite. Sam challenges me to become the person I want to be. He never lets me settle for easy. I love him more than I thought possible. And I can't wait to marry him, but I'm afraid, too. What if I'm not good enough? Look at all the baggage in my life.”

Andi shook her head in amazement. Who would have
guessed Jenny—who always seemed so self-possessed and in control—felt the same way she did?

“Do you remember when we were eight? The pact we made?” Andi asked.

Kristin made a circling motion with her thumb against her baby finger. “You mean with the kitchen knife and mingled blood?”

Jenny's eyes suddenly lit up. “Of course. How did the chant go? Something about life and wind and—”

“Wait. Wait. We need a knife,” Kristin said, leaping to her feet.

A minute later she returned with a fingernail file. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “There must be a zillion people downstairs. The entire Garden Club is fixing food for the reception. I didn't want to go into the kitchen.”

They looked at each other then silently agreed to proceed. “Who started?” Andi asked.

“Me.” Jenny cleared her throat and said, “Fearless as the night wind…”

“Strong as the mighty oak,” Andi recalled on cue.

“Gentle as a mother's touch,” Kris intoned.

“The best shall love forever,” they said in harmony.

Kristin handed the file to Andi, who looked at it then tossed it over her shoulder. “We're adults now. I think our brains can handle symbolism without us bleeding all over our wedding outfits.”

Laughing, the Sullivan triplets pressed their fingers together. Three spokes in a wheel of life, love and sisterhood.

 

J
ONATHAN HAD BEEN AFRAID
he'd arrive late for the ceremony. His meeting with the Realtor had taken longer than he'd expected, and then he'd needed to pick up a rental car, since his father was returning his car at the Fresno airport.

He quickly parked and raced to the area where several
four-wheel-drive all-terrain vehicles were parked to ferry guests to the hilltop where the nuptials were going to be held. “Am I late?” he asked Hank.

The foreman—who looked dapper in a western suit coat and obviously new jeans—shook his head. “Nope. The women are still in the house, which is a good thing because one of the reins on that fancy carriage that Sam borrowed broke. We had to scramble to improvise.”

Jonathan looked toward the log house. In the circular driveway an old-fashioned surrey with four white horses waited. “Wow,” he exclaimed. “Is that for Jenny and her sisters?”

“And Ida Jane and Sam's mother and Greta and the twins,” Hank said. “You can either take one of these.” He nodded at the beribboned ATVs. “Or a horse. There's half a dozen saddled.”

“Why so many?”

“They're for the party afterward. Sam always gives the townsfolk a chance to do some trail rides for them that wants to play cowboy.”

Jonathan assessed his clothing, glad that he'd taken the time to change out of his city clothes into black jeans, his new boots and a pale blue shirt. A tie hadn't felt right, but it was in the pocket of his western-style jacket, just in case. Along with the ring Sam had asked him to pick up.

“I'll take Jughead,” he said. “I've kinda missed him.”

Hank nodded as if that made perfect sense. “Then, I'll see you up top.”

Jonathan wasn't certain how it would feel to be back in the saddle. That aspect of his life had faded some as the memories of his former life returned, but Jughead, his old friend and Hank's favorite mount, seemed to remember him. Once atop the roan gelding, Jonathan heaved a sigh of pleasure.

“Hey, cowboy, where ya' goin'?” a female voice asked.

Jonathan pulled back on the reins. Andi stood about ten feet from the corral, a tentative look on her face. His first impulse was to sweep her into his arms and carry her off to the most private spot he could find. Instead, he made a clicking sound and walked Jughead closer.

“Well, Andi Sullivan, don't you look breathtaking.”

Her cheeks colored prettily. Her hair was curled; the dress she wore was perfect for her, clinging provocatively at all the right places, yet demure and delicate. Her legs looked tan and sleek, and the strappy shoes she wore made him shift in the saddle.

“I don't look like a silly bridesmaid?”

He shook his head, making sure she saw the truth in his eyes. “You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Want a ride?”

She laughed. “Oh, sure, that'll work. Jenny would kill me if I messed up her perfect wedding.”

Jonathan urged his horse a step closer. “I know how to ride. I'll get you there in one piece,” he promised.

He could tell she was tempted, but at that moment her sister—a vision in ivory lace—called out, “Andrea, get your butt in this carriage. Now.”

Andi looked up at him and grinned. “See? I told you. She's dangerous. But—” she ran her tongue over the glossy shine on her bottom lip “—I could use a ride back.”

Jonathan's heart turned over at the promise he read in her eyes. “You've got it.”

With that she turned and strolled away. She nearly lost her footing once when the high heels threatened to trip her up, but she recovered and joined her family in the gaily festooned coach.

Jonathan could have ridden escort, but decided he needed
a moment in private with the groom, so he gave Jughead his head and they tore up the hillside.

Five minutes later, he tied Jughead with the other horses—several of which he recognized—at the base of the knoll where purple and white ribbons fluttered like butterflies in the surrounding oaks. A bower of greenery and flowers framed a backdrop of blue sky. Jonathan wondered if he'd ever seen a more inspired setting.

“Quite an affair, wouldn't you say?” a familiar voice asked.

James Rohr joined him as they walked toward a group of men standing to one side of the arched trellis. “Where's Andrew?” Rohr asked.

“He got homesick,” Jonathan said.

The other man chuckled. “If I had a beautiful young wife waiting for me, I'd be in a hurry to leave, too.”

Jonathan tried to picture Gwen, his stepmother. He'd studied the photograph in his wallet, which his father said was two years old, but no solid recollection of the woman or his young stepsisters came to mind. “The girls have changed so much since that photo,” Andrew had told him. “I left in such a hurry I forgot to bring pictures, but we'll e-mail you some digital shots as soon as you're up and running.”

In business. I'm the new owner of the
Gold Creek Ledger.
Or will be when escrow closes.

As if reading his mind, the older man asked, “How did your meeting go this morning? I offered to come along, but Andrew said he didn't want any witnesses if he took unfair advantage of the man.”

Jonathan laughed. Somehow that sounded more like something he might have said. Of course, his father had admitted that Jon came by his arrogance naturally. Andrew had also said that Jonathan's mother had saved him from a
life devoid of color and romance. Jonathan was hoping Andi would rescue him the same way.

“It's a done deal, as we say in the mountains,” he told the lawyer. “The papers are signed, anyway. There's still a matter of title searches and termite inspections and whatever, but I should be able to take over in thirty days.”

Rohr shook his hand. “Congratulations. Hopefully, we'll have this legal matter cleared up before that.”

Jonathan frowned. He couldn't forget that he was out of jail on bond and he still had a murder charge against him. He wondered how the citizens of Gold Creek would take a publisher who was on trial for his life. Jon and his father had discussed putting the paper in Andrew's name in case the trial dragged on, but in the end, Jonathan decided he would take his chances with the justice system. He was an innocent man. That was good enough for him. And for Andi, he hoped. Because he planned to ask her to marry him. The sooner, the better.

“Jonathan,” a voice hailed.

“The groom calls,” he said. “I think he's looking for a ring.”

Rohr held out his hand, palm up. “Since I'm one of his attendants, I'll take it.”

Jonathan fished in the pocket of his jeans and dropped an emerald-cut, two-carat diamond into the man's hand. The ring sparkled like a dewdrop at dawn. “It's beautiful, but I don't think it will fit Sam's finger,” the attorney said, grinning.

“Whoops. Wrong ring.” Jonathan quickly switched the diamond for a slim gold band, which he'd noticed was inscribed with two sets of initials and the date.

Before repocketing the engagement ring, he held it to the light. “This was my mother's. She died when I was ten. Dad told me he chose to bury her with her wedding band
only because he knew Mother would have wanted me to give this to my lady love.” Jonathan felt a prickle of tears in his sinuses. He was grateful for his dark glasses, but fortunately no headache followed.

“My guess, that would be Andi,” the attorney said.

Jonathan smiled then tucked the ring deep in his pocket. “You know what's odd? Dad told me that when he first got the call about my arrest, he went to his safe and took out Mother's ring. His wife packed for him and made the travel arrangements, but Dad said all he could do was weep.”

He recalled their final conversation before his father left for the airport.

“I wish I could picture Mom wearing this,” Jonathan had said after Andrew gave him the ring.

“It was a long time ago, son. But you should know that she designed it herself. Spent hours with the jeweler to get it just right. She said the leaves signified transition, because in nature nothing stays the same, and the diamond symbolized duration, because true love never dies.”

The sound of horses walking in tandem broke his train of thought. James touched his sleeve. “We'd better join the others. Sam promised this would be short and sweet.”

Two dozen people moved from outlying areas—some standing in small groups beneath the shade of the oak trees, others observing the view from the precipice—and gathered in a semicircle, leaving room for the bride and her attendants to approach.

After the surrey came to a stop, designated ushers helped the ladies from it. First was Ida Jane, looking regal in pale lavender. Greta Willits, who was joined by her husband a few seconds later, escorted the older woman to the summit. Next, the mother of the groom stepped out. She walked to a place of honor on Donnie Grimaldo's arm. Then came
Andi and Kristin, each carrying a baby. Last, the bride descended.

From somewhere nearby, a guitar played. Jonathan watched Andi and Kristin walk toward the altar. The uneven ground required them to move slowly—especially with the squirming bundles they carried.

Lara was in a white pinafore with a pink dress beneath, white tights and patent-leather shoes with tiny bows; Tucker wore tan shorts with a dressy shirt and matching vest. On his feet were socks only. Jonathan recalled Hank saying Tucker hated shoes.

The twins seemed a bit awed by the crowd. Lara looked ready to cry, but Andi comforted her with a bowed head and soft word. His heart did a double thump. If she
were
pregnant, they could expect their first child in late November.

An expectant hush fell over the crowd as Jenny approached the knoll. Jonathan looked around. He felt a pleasant sense of surprise to realize he knew nearly every attendee. Many acknowledged his gaze with a friendly nod.

The music swelled. Jenny drew close. She looked radiant. Her tailored, western-style dress of ivory lace made her look regal, but her long auburn hair added a carefree touch that was very much her style. Her hat was adorned with fine netting and fresh flowers, and she carried a nosegay of honeysuckle and pink roses.

Sam, as handsome as a film star in his western tux, waited for her with hand extended, and she went to him with a smile of pure joy on her face. The crowd closed the gap, forming a half circle around them. The judge—the man Jonathan recognized from his arraignment—faced the group.

The vows were simple and heartfelt. A soloist sang a song of love and the promises one heart makes to another.

With his hands folded in front of him, Jonathan turned
his mother's ring so he alone could see it. The diamond twinkled with an inner radiance that somehow made him feel as if she were present.

He closed his eyes, trying to picture her. Although he feared this might produce a headache, what came instead was a whisper on the wind. A soft sigh that held a silent blessing. She'd want him to experience the love she'd known with his father, the joy of holding his own child and sharing precious moments that could never be stolen—even by a fickle hand of fate.