Muriel Jensen

New Year's Wedding


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mean, if you go to hell, you’re already dead, right?”

      “Sometimes things can feel so bad,” Corie said, “that it’s like hell has come to you while you’re still alive. But you know that you’ll get over it if you stay with the people you love.”

      “And high water is like a flood,” Rosie put in, always sure of what she knew. “Because people get really discouraged when a flood comes and gets their house all messy. But if they clean up together, it’s not so hard.”

      Sarah nodded. “I couldn’t have said it better.” She smiled across the table at Grady. “What do you think?”

      “Wouldn’t you like to see it first?” he asked.

      “It is a beautiful place,” Ben said. “Of course, I’ve mostly played poker there and not paid attention to how ‘gorgeous’ it is.” He emphasized Cassie’s word. “But, maybe you should see it first, Corie.”

      “I’d like to,” Corie said. “But if it’s gorgeous to Cassie, who’s seen some of the world’s most gorgeous places, then I don’t think there’s any question.”

      Grady cast a glance at Cassie that she couldn’t quite read. But she guessed it suggested payback later. “Good,” he said. “We’ll go after lunch.”

      Before they left the restaurant, Helen volunteered to be in charge of food for the reception.

      “Perfect,” Sarah said. “And we can all help with that. Can you make that sausage and pasta casserole Ben and Jack love so much?”

      “Of course. I’ll put a menu together and we can all go over it and add or subtract.”

      “Great. I’ll get invitations out by email and phone and, together, Cassie and I can arrange for flowers.”

      The major questions answered, Sarah closed her book and set it aside again just in time for the arrival of lunch.

      * * *

      “I DIDN’T CLEAN up the breakfast dishes,” Cassie whispered to Grady as they walked out to the car. The family had split into the groups that had ridden together.

      “I did.” He aimed the key fob at the truck to open the doors.

      “We can make coffee, but do you have milk for the kids?”

      He pulled open her door and replied with what sounded like slightly strained good humor. “No. But had I known eight people were coming back with us, and that you were going to volunteer me to host a wedding, I’d have tried to be better prepared.”

      She stopped before slipping onto the passenger seat and tried to analyze the look in his eyes. “Are you angry?”

      “I’m never angry,” he replied. “But I’m not crazy about surprises, particularly those that involve something like a wedding.”

      “It’s for your best friend in the whole world. You said you were as close as brothers.” She added with a small smile, hoping to rid him of that remote expression, “And that it made you and I almost related. So, I’m sorry I mentioned it without asking you first, but we’re family, so to speak. That’s what you said.”

      * * *

      SHE WAS WORKING HIM. That was an unusual experience, and he couldn’t help the inclination to let the moment stretch to see how far she’d go. Celeste had never bothered with feminine wiles; she’d either planned things her way without explanation or apology, or she’d simply ignored what he’d wanted to do. This blatant attempt to manipulate had a certain charm.

      “I know what I said,” he replied, having a little trouble keeping a smile off his face, but he felt it was important that he try. “But it is my home. You might have consulted me first. It was hard to say no with your entire family waiting for an answer.”

      “Did you want to say no?”

      He had to answer honestly. “No. If you don’t get in the truck, they’re all going to get there before us.”

      She grinned as she stepped up gracefully. “I doubt they’ll break in.”

      He pushed the door closed, walked around the hood and climbed in behind the wheel. He didn’t want to notice that the new yellow sweater gave her a golden look, and that her scent made the truck smell like a flower shop.

      Everyone was standing around, looking up at Grady’s house, when he and Cassie arrived. He pulled onto the grass beyond the driveway so their guests would be able to back out again.

      They were all smiling. He took a good look himself, trying to see it with new eyes without considering what it meant to him on a personal level. It looked large and strong, simply constructed, tall firs gathered along the sides, a shelter in the mysterious woods. The property opened onto a deep meadow in the back for about a hundred yards, then the forest closed in. It was the last place he’d have thought of to have Ben and Corie’s wedding.

      He unlocked and threw his door open, holding it to let everyone pass through.

      He followed them into the great room, where Sarah, Corie and Helen stood in the middle and looked around.

      “Isn’t it magnificent?” Cassie asked. “I mean, imagine what we can do. What if we got a few floor chandeliers to make a walkway for the bride, then, maybe, a hanging one right above where you’ll exchange vows?” She moved forward to stand under the loft railing. “Maybe about here. Then tulle or something gathered like bunting on the railing and down the stairs. And we can trim everything with flowers.”

      Corie clasped her hands beneath her chin. The warrior woman who’d done so much to save her foster mother’s home and the children in it now looked younger and less troubled than he’d ever seen her in the few weeks he’d known her.

      “Oh, Grady,” she said on a whisper. Had he wanted to resist hosting the wedding, the tone of her voice would have changed his mind. When Ben went to stand behind her and put his arms around her, both of them looking around delightedly, he knew it had to be the best wedding ever held in a log home. With noble self-sacrifice, he accepted that he was probably going to hate the process but he’d do his part to make it perfect for them.

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