A November Bride (14 page)

While Hope thought the cake was more than a little
creepy, Amity had squealed and raved. Hope liked to think she grounded Amity and made her fun-loving friend think twice before she jumped into some new venture.

As for Amity, well, listening to her friend’s tales of exploits allowed Hope to live vicariously in a world she would never again embrace.

Ten years ago Hope had ignored common sense and allowed herself to be swept from the safety of the shoreline into rocky waters where she was immediately in over her head.

Amity was wrong. Even ten years ago, Hope had known what to do when she was confronted with a red-blooded male. She’d . . . married him.

She’d been eighteen when she and John Burke had skipped their high-school prom and headed to Boise to elope. She couldn’t even console herself that it had been an impulsive, “hey, let’s get married tonight” kind of thing.

They’d planned it out, getting a license and finding a minister to marry them. The preacher—and she used that term loosely, as the guy had been ordained online—had been in it for the cash.

They’d said their vows, exchanged rings and been pronounced husband and wife. Then the minister, “Buddy,” had demanded fifty dollars. John had balked, insisting they’d agreed on twenty and he didn’t have the extra thirty.

A cold chill had traveled down her spine, just as it did now, remembering. Hope had been struck by the enormity of what she’d just done. She’d tied her future to someone who didn’t even have enough money to pay the preacher.

Hope was embarrassed to recall how she’d fallen apart and cried like a baby, insisting she’d made a mistake and
didn’t want to be married. John had tried to comfort and reassure but she’d been inconsolable.

Buddy had taken pity on her. Though he was supposed to file the license within thirty days to make the marriage official, the college-student-turned-minister told her not to worry. He simply wouldn’t send in the forms. It’d be as if the marriage had never taken place.

She and John returned to Harmony that night. On the ride back, John tried to talk to her, but she shut him out. For the next six weeks he tried repeatedly to breech the wall she’d erected.

But when John gave up and hopped on his motorcycle the day after graduation to make his fortune, Hope felt as if her best friend had deserted her. Which made no sense at all.

“Botheration” The words came out on a groan.

Hope blinked back to the present and realized the sound had come from Amity. “What’s the matter?”

“They’re coming this way,” Amity hissed.

“Who?”

“Brooke Hauder and her mother.” Amity busied herself arranging brochures on her table, as if not making eye contact would cause the two to walk on by. “Brooke’s wedding plans are solid but she’s convinced something will go wrong. Crazy high-maintenance.”

The two women were definitely sauntering their direction. The girl was whippet thin with a pale complexion common to gingers. The mother was short and stout and reminded Hope of a fireplug.

Amity turned and offered a bright smile as the two
stopped in front of her booth. “Hey, gals. What brings you here today?”

Hope knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop but she couldn’t remember ever seeing Amity attempt to avoid speaking with someone. Crouching down, Hope pretended to be sorting through a box of pamphlets.

The older woman placed a supportive hand on her daughter’s back. “Brooke has gotten herself all worked up over something. I hope speaking with you will reassure her.”

“Of course.” Amity spoke in a surprisingly soothing tone. “What’s got you stressed, sweetie?”

The girl toyed with the button on her coat. “Mom thinks I’m being silly—”

“Now, Brookie, I never said that.” The mother laughed lightly and shot Amity a conspiratorial glance.

“You thought it.” The girl narrowed her eyes at her mother. “I know you—”

“Tell me the problem.” Amity interrupted in a firm tone that silenced the two women.

“It’s Pete’s uncle. The one who is going to marry us.”

From her vantage point, Hope could see Amity nod.

“You know he’s not a real minister. I mean, he got ordained on one of those online sites, but he doesn’t have a church or anything.”

“I assure you, his online ordination means he can legally marry in the state of Idaho,” Amity said calmly.

“Pete and I were at his house last night. He said he hoped he didn’t forget to send in the marriage certificate after the ceremony because then we’d be living in sin. He laughed as if
it was some big joke. I told him he’d better not forget. Now I’m worried he will.”

“He was teasing you, Brooke.”

Brooke continued as if her mother hadn’t spoken. “I told him if he didn’t send in those forms, Pete and I won’t be legally married.”

“And
I
told
you
,” Mrs. Hauder interrupted, “that the marriage would still be legal.”

Hope’s knees began to tremble. She rested a hand on the nearby chair for support.

“Your mother is correct,” Amity said to Brooke. “Even if the forms aren’t sent in, the marriage is legal.”

“Are you certain?” Brooke fixed her gaze on Amity.

“One hundred percent positive. This issue has come up before. I verified it myself with the county recorder.”

“See, I told you.” The older woman’s tone turned chiding. “Do you ever listen to me? No.”

Cold fear stole Hope’s breath. As mother and daughter continued to bicker, a dull roaring filled her ears. She couldn’t move.

“You can come out now,” Amity said good-naturedly. “Troll Bird and Spawn have departed.”

Slowly, Hope rose to her feet.

“Did you ever hear anything so silly?” Amity chuckled and refilled the bowl on the vintage scale decorating her booth with more chocolate mints. “Thinking that just because the forms didn’t get sent that the marriage wouldn’t be legal.”

A shaky laugh was all Hope could manage, while inside her thoughts raced.

On a sunny Saturday in early October, John Burke rode into Harmony on the back of his new Harley. The sights and smells of early autumn surrounded him. While most of the lawns were still green, the leaves had already morphed into vibrant shades of red and yellow and orange. There was a pleasant earthy fragrance to the air, as if it had recently rained. John inhaled deeply.

He’d been back many times, but those had mostly been quick trips around the holidays. This was different.

He reached the business district and continued to drive slowly, admiring the town square. A three-story stone city hall anchored the middle of the square, while shops lined the perimeter. Old-fashioned gas lamps stood like sentinels at the edge of the brick streets ready to cast their light on the canopied storefronts.

In no particular hurry, John circled the square several times, taking note of businesses that were new since his last visit. The names were displayed on colorful awnings over storefront windows: The Coffee Pot, Petal Creations, and Carly’s Cut and Curl. The only business not showing any action on a lazy Saturday afternoon was The Thirsty Buffalo, a popular local bar.

Though John had loved working and living in Portland for the past ten years, Harmony was home. When he’d left after high school, he’d vowed to return when he was a success.

Against all odds, he’d reached that goal. But along that circuitous route with its peaks and valleys, John had
discovered an undeniable truth. Success was more than a healthy bank account, more than following your passion; it was putting God and family first. Now he was coming home to put that belief into action.

John never knew his grandparents. His father had taken off when he was ten, shortly after his mother had been diagnosed with cancer. When he was sixteen, she’d died of the disease. The only family he had was Aunt Verna, who wasn’t really his aunt.

Verna had been his mother’s childhood friend. When his mom passed away and John was tossed into the foster care system, Verna had taken classes to become a foster parent and brought him into her home. She was his family now. As she aged, he wanted to be there for her. But Verna wasn’t the only reason he’d returned to Harmony.

John turned his cycle onto a brick street where older homes sat far back from the street, with huge expanses of lawns draped before them like green carpets. Except for one barking beagle and a boy on a bike, the neighborhood was quiet.

At the far end of the road, he caught sight of his destination. The two-story home, with its wraparound porch, stained-glass window panels, and abundance of gingerbread molding, stood big and white against the brilliant blue of the sky. The ornate wrought-iron fence surrounding the main yard only added to its charm.

Seeing it now, John was filled with a sense of coming home. He pulled the Harley into the drive. Almost immediately Verna appeared on the porch, a willowy woman with hair the color of champagne. When she raised her hand in
greeting and he saw her broad smile, his fingers relaxed on the bike’s handlebar grips. He was home.

This time for good.

Hope saw the motorcycle sitting in front of the carriage house when she pulled into the driveway. Idly, she wondered who Verna was showing through the barn. Though her aunt hadn’t had any late afternoon appointments scheduled when Hope left for the bridal fair that morning, it wasn’t unusual for prospective clients to drop by without an appointment.

Despite Amity’s remarks looming over her like a dark cloud, Hope felt good about what she’d accomplished today. The booth had been worth every penny of the premium price they’d paid. Barn weddings were all the rage and her booth displayed a slideshow of their gleaming red barn with its arched roof and remodeled interior. A number of brides and their mothers had set up times to visit Harmony Creek.

After they’d torn down their booths, Amity had urged Hope to join her and some friends for dinner. But Hope was in no mood to socialize. Thankfully, Chet had called off their date for tonight. The man who would be his campaign manager had scheduled a meeting with business leaders about a possible State Senate run.

Just as well. Hope had too much on her mind, none of which she was ready to discuss with Amity or Chet.

What if I am still married to John
?

Hope stepped from the car, closing her eyes against the
sudden stab in her heart. She knew God wouldn’t give her more than she could bear.

It will be okay
, she told herself.
It will all be okay
.

She entered the house, where she lived with her aunt, via the back door. Aunt Verna stood at the stove stirring a pot of soup and speaking with a man whose back was to Hope. He was tall and lanky, his wavy dark hair almost as long as hers. Hope had never seen her aunt cook in front of a potential client.

Obviously Verna knew this man and felt comfortable around him. Still, since her aunt seemed so determined to get dinner on the table, Hope would be a good niece and offer to show him around.

Before she could make the offer, the man turned. Her heart dropped to her toes. She didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or cry. Not more than she could bear? God apparently had more faith in her than was warranted.

“Hello, Hope,” she heard John say. “It’s good to see you again.”