This Time for Good. Carmen Green

alighted with her hat securely in place and tipped her head back to see him.

      “You sure you don’t want to leave that thing in the car,” he asked, the wide brim making a dramatic statement.

      “That’s a silly question. It matches my dress.”

      He hadn’t seen the dress, her coat so long it was nearly to her ankles. They walked up the steps and he opened the door, allowing her to walk in sideways. Every move she made was delicate and smooth. But she seemed apprehensive. “Which way do I go?”

      An attendant approached. “Your name, please?”

      “Mrs. Marc Foster. This is Mr. Hunter Smith.”

      The man opened his mouth like a gaping fish, then he closed it. Holding out his hand, he guided them to a room at the far end of the chapel. “Please proceed inside when you’re ready. Ma’am, may I take your coat?”

      “Of course.” Alex unbuttoned the silk, transferring her purse from one hand to the other while Hunter helped her slide her arms from the sleeves. She stepped forward and he swallowed his surprise.

      The sleeveless dress was white with black polka dots. A white silk sash bustled slightly from the waist to her knees. The dress probably cost more than a suite at the Four Seasons, but that wasn’t what he was concerned about. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for a funeral.

      The attendant, again, didn’t say a word. He gestured to show Hunter where the coat would be stored and hurried off.

      “White, Alexandria,” he said. “This is a funeral.”

      “I don’t believe it’s my husband. So why should I wear black?”

      She took her bag from him, and on impossibly high heels, walked up the center aisle.

      Following at a discreet distance, Hunter slid onto a chair and sat down. Alex was no longer his responsibility. If she’d worn an ice blue-colored dress with orange shoes, a pink hat and purple dots on her skin, that wouldn’t be his problem.