hand on her. And it would be the last, too.
She stepped up to the dais, facing the good citizens of Kane’s Crossing. Daisy didn’t know them very well, but from what she remembered of this town, they wouldn’t mind if she did something stupid. Something that would stoke their gossip fires for the coming autumn.
Well, she was about to oblige them.
She cleared her throat and smiled, drawing on all her years of beauty-pageant experience. Walk a straight line—posture, posture—flash those pearly whites, swivel, pose… Once upon a time, she’d been crowned Miss Spencer County, and it hadn’t been for nothing.
Coral was watching her, that you’re-up-to-something-no-good-young-lady purse to her lips.
Daisy kicked up her smile a notch; it went from maudlin-sweet to Vaseline-bright. “I want to take a moment to thank so many people. Like the caterers. You all are going to love the shrimp salad and prime rib. And thank you to the wedding planner. Beautiful work, Adele.”
As the planner waved and wiped her eyes, Daisy went on to thank every one from the photographer to the limousine driver, noting how Peter’s brows were knitted. She’d seen that expression before, and she hadn’t appreciated the threat that had accompanied it, hadn’t appreciated how yesterday’s verbal intimidation had become this morning’s choke hold.
I wouldn’t call off this marriage, he’d said one day when she’d confessed her cold feet to him. You’ll be very sorry if you do.
Now Peter started to interrupt her, but Daisy cut him off, plunging into her final acknowledgments. “Thank you to my sister, Coral, for loving me all these years, for raising me and making so many sacrifices. I love you, sis.”
Coral smiled, deepening the crow’s feet around her wary, faded bluebonnet-colored eyes.
“And, finally, thank you to Liza Cochrane, my bridesmaid.” Daisy paused, her heart racing with nerves and anger, as she locked eyes with the woman Peter had insisted be in the wedding party. The woman her future husband had…
Just the thought of it made her want to cry with helpless embarrassment.
“Liza,” she said, “thank you for sleeping with the biggest mistake I never made.” Amidst a general gasp from the congregation, Daisy dropped the bouquet at her bridemaid’s feet, as if it were a used tissue and Liza was the missed garbage container. The arrangement landed with a thump, hammering home the silence.
Daisy didn’t look back, not even when Peter called to her in his low, controlled tone. Not even when she heard Coral reassuring him that she’d return. Daisy merely strolled out the front door and down the stairs, skirt bunched in both hands.
When she heard the growing mumble of voices inside the church, followed by the cacophony of bodies rising to their feet, she quickened her steps. Then she ran.
Past Pioneer Square with its stoic Kane Spencer statue watching her skirts fly. Past Darla’s Beauty Shop, where this morning she’d gotten her curls tamed into a style that flattered her tiara headdress and veil. Past Meg Cassidy’s bakery, where her wedding cake had been fashioned by the town “witch’s” talented hands.
A Chubby Checker tune blared from the building, and Daisy skidded to a halt, backtracking. Through the window, she could see a crowd of people decked out in party hats and smiles, hugging and dancing amidst streamers and light.
Daisy peered down Main Street, recognizing Peter as he marched out of the church, followed by a throng of Kane’s Crossing curious.
Without another thought, she ducked into Meg’s bakery.
Rick Shane thought he was losing his mind. Again.
He’d been standing in a dark corner for about a half hour now, doing his best to distance himself from the revelry of his niece’s seventh birthday party. The last thing he expected to find as he stared out the bakery window was a buxom, blond bride sprinting down Main Street, Cinderella dress hiked over her knees to reveal shapely white-stockinged calves. The part he liked best was when she’d skidded to a halt, her ample breasts all but spilling out of her neckline. Rick liked that part a whole lot.
Then he realized who this bride was.
The satin dream burst through the door, welcome bells jingling over the obnoxiously joyful music. She seemed out of place among his jeans-and-leather clad relatives and friends.
Behind the service counter, Nick Cassidy snapped off the stereo system as everyone else stared at the bride.
She straightened, and Rick grinned as he recognized the stance from high school. He’d always gotten a good rise out of Daisy Cox’s feistiness.
“Excuse me,” she said, breathlessly. “May I hide behind your counter?”
Meg Cassidy guided her wobbly-legged twin son and daughter to her husband, Nick. Unfazed, she nodded. “Certainly.”
“Thank you.” Daisy Cox rushed behind the Formica structure, leaving the party in stunned, statue stillness.
Rick shook his head and laughed to himself. “Only in Kane’s Crossing,” he muttered.
His brother, Matthew, slumped in a nearby booth and kicked a cowboy-booted foot over a knee. Their friend, Sheriff Sam Reno, sat across from him. Both of them were biting back their own smiles.
As the rest of the partygoers watched, Daisy Cox disappeared behind the counter, leaving a trail of white satin as she tucked herself away. The material peeked around the corner, a dead giveaway to her location.
Rick shook his head. This was definitely the topper to his day. Not only was he surrounded by pregnant women—both Meg Cassidy’s and Ashlyn Reno’s waistlines were starting to pooch, and his own sister-in-law, Rachel Shane, was expecting, too—but now he had to add a bride to the list of love-is-in-the-air reminders. All these hearts and flowers were making him downright discomfited.
His younger stepsister, Lacey, pursed her lip-glossed mouth, darting a glance from Daisy’s satin to Rick. Nice. He knew the look. It meant that she was about to tell him to get off his lackadaisical rear end and do something.
As she approached, Rick couldn’t help prefacing her baby-sister bossiness with a zing of sarcasm. “Yes, your Flashdance-ness?”
Lacey adjusted her off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and frowned at him. Hell, he couldn’t help it. It was too much of a temptation to poke fun at her ever-changing wardrobe.
“Rick, you were in the same high-school class as Daisy Cox was.”
He pretended to turn the matter over in his mind. After a sufficiently maddening pause, he said, “I guess I was.”
“Then go talk to her.”
Rick could feel his sibling, Matthew, as well as the brood brothers, Nick and Sheriff Sam, staring at him. No help there.
He said, “We weren’t bosom buddies, Lacey.” Though the thought of getting to know the bosom part of Daisy Cox didn’t seem all that bad of an idea.
Lacey shot him the look of instant death, the kind only a sister could get away with. “Rick Shane, you go make her feel welcome.”
Meg Cassidy and Ashlyn Reno had taken on expectant expressions, too. Even Rachel, the sister-in-law who’d always treated him like an important part of the family—which he knew wasn’t the case—started getting a disappointed tilt to her lips. That did it. That, and the curious glances of his niece, Tamela, and little Taggert Reno, the adopted son of Ashlyn and Sheriff Sam.
Jeez, he couldn’t look like a jerk in front of the kids.
He aimed a lethargic shrug at Lacey, emerged from his dark corner and ambled toward the bridal satin peeking out from behind the counter. Someone had the presence of mind to turn on the music again so Fats Domino could softly croon over Rick’s attempts at friendliness.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, peering