Wild Iris Ridge. RaeAnne Thayne
look who’s here! It’s my lovely daughter and my lovely daughter-to-be.”
Genevieve blushed at this, and both women greeted him with kisses on the cheek. Lucy studied the mayor’s daughter more closely.
“You’re engaged to one of the Caine boys? Really? You’re a brave woman, Ms. Beaumont. No offense, Dermot.”
He laughed cheerfully. “None taken. Believe me, I know exactly how brave she is to take on this particular son.”
He hugged Genevieve again, who seemed to light up with happiness. Lucy was aware of a sharp pang of envy that Genevieve apparently had been absorbed into the huge, boisterous, loving Caine family.
“Which brother?” she asked. “Let me guess. Aidan.”
The tech genius had accrued a fortune in Silicon Valley and was worth millions, which would probably suit the elegant Genevieve. She had met him a few times over the years at various business functions.
Because of their shared connection to Hope’s Crossing, he always found a few moments to speak with her, earning her jealous snake-eyes from some of her female associates, who tended to go a little out of their heads for Aidan’s brilliant mind and his sexy-nerd good looks.
“Good heavens, no,” Genevieve exclaimed. “I barely know Aidan. I think I’ve only met him two or three times. He terrifies me, if you want the truth.”
“Jamie, then?” She never would have thought the sexy charmer of a helicopter pilot would settle down, even for someone as lovely as Genevieve.
“Wrong again,” Charlotte said with a grin.
Lucy did a few quick calculations. She knew the older two of Charlotte’s brothers were married. Surely not...Brendan. Impossible.
Why was it impossible? she asked herself. Jess had been gone more than two years. Did she really expect him to hold on to her memory forever? But still. Picturing Genevieve Beaumont as stepmother to Faith and Carter left a cold, tangled knot in her stomach.
“So you’re marrying...”
“Dylan!” Genevieve said, with obvious relish, as if Lucy couldn’t have made any other guess.
Just like that, the sickly feeling eased. “Dylan! Wow. That’s...terrific.”
And wholly unexpected. Last she heard, the youngest Caine brother had nearly died while fighting in Afghanistan and had been left with lifelong scars.
He seemed an odd pick for a woman who was obviously very aware of her appearance and who was starting an interior design business. But what did she know?
Nothing in Hope’s Crossing was turning out as she expected.
She couldn’t doubt the woman was deeply in love with Dylan, not when she saw the joy bloom on her lovely features.
“We’re having a quiet sunrise ceremony this summer in a meadow near his house in Snowflake Canyon.”
“Followed by a huge blowout bash that’s going to take over the entire ski resort,” Charlotte added dryly.
Genevieve beamed. “It has to be huge!” she protested. “What else do you expect from a double reception? Half of that is from your side.”
“Who else is getting married?” Lucy asked, feeling a little lost.
Charlotte waved her hand, which Lucy now saw sported a tasteful princess-cut diamond.
“Oh, congratulations. I hadn’t heard.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s marrying Smokin’ Hot Spence Gregory,” Genevieve said.
“Spence? Really?”
“Yes. Spence.” Charlotte’s joy was softer than Genevieve’s but every bit as genuine.
Though Lucy had lived in Seattle, she had been a big fan of the Portland Pioneers and had even driven down a few times to watch Smoke Gregory’s amazing fastball. His fall from grace as a Major League Baseball pitcher a few years before had been a personal blow—and the way he had clawed his way back from a dark place just as inspiring.
Maybe she should learn a few things from him.
“They’re getting married at the church the night before Dylan and I are tying the knot. We’ve decided on separate ceremonies and a combined reception. Doesn’t that sound fabulous?”
“It really does. Wow. A girl leaves town for a decade and everything changes. Congratulations, both of you.”
“Thank you! We’re meeting people for breakfast. You look as if you have nearly finished eating, but we would love to have you join us for coffee and conversation.”
Lucy was sorely tempted, struck again by how very few female friends she had. She was suddenly greedy for friends—and not just any friends, these women.
At the same time, she wasn’t sure she could pull off being warm and friendly when she felt so wrecked by everything that had happened the past few days. It wasn’t every week a woman lost the job of her dreams or tried to burn down the only thing she had left.
“Another time, I would love that. Right now I need to head over to Iris House and take a look at the damages.”
“Oh, good luck,” Charlotte said. “We’ll definitely catch up while you’re in town.”
“Genevieve, if you’re serious about helping me with Iris House, I would greatly appreciate any input. Maybe we could make an appointment next week for you to walk through with me and at least give me some idea where to start.”
The other woman looked thrilled. “That would be fantastic! I just had these really cute cards made up.” She reached into the funky fabric bag she carried and pulled out a slim black case. She extracted a business card and handed it over to Lucy. “My cell, business line and email are on there. Call me and we can work something out. Do you have a card we can exchange?”
She had about a jillion and three of them, but they wouldn’t do her any good anymore. “Not on me,” she answered, which wasn’t precisely a lie. “I’ll call you, though.”
“Great. I can’t wait.”
She waved goodbye to the women, left a bill on the counter to pay Dermot for her breakfast along with a healthy tip and then walked out into the town that would be her home for the foreseeable future, like it or not.
CHAPTER FOUR
“COME ON, HONEY. You can do it,” Brendan urged his daughter.
“No! Don’t let go, Daddy,” Faith begged. “Please don’t let go.”
Brendan sighed as he held on to the back of her bike seat, wishing he could enjoy the sweetly warm April evening that smelled of life, new growth, somebody barbecuing down the street.
Another spring, another effort to get Faith to ride her bike without the training wheels.
Two years ago, she had begged him to take off the training wheels on her bike as soon as the snow melted. He had promised he would before the new baby came—but before he could follow through on his promise, Jess and the baby were both gone.
None of them had felt much like riding bikes that spring. When he pulled them out of the garage after the snow melted a year ago, Faith had insisted she wasn’t ready to ride without the training wheels. He had pushed a little but not too hard. Jessie had only been gone a year and Faith seemed to need the comfort of the familiar.
But she would turn eight years old during the summer. The time had come for her to stop clinging so tightly to the familiar and venture into untried territory.
He worried about the tentativeness she had developed since Jess’s death. She never wanted to try anything new—roller-skating, Girl Scouts, sushi.