Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'. Debbie Macomber
mother said.
“I’ve been busy with the last-minute details of Susan Davenport’s wedding.”
“She’s Nash’s sister, isn’t she?”
Her mother knew the answer to that. She was looking for an excuse to bring Nash into the conversation, which she’d done countless times since meeting him. If Savannah had to do that wager over again, she’d handle it differently. Her entire day had been spent contemplating various regrets. She wanted to start over, be more patient, finish what she’d begun, control her tongue, get out of this ridiculous “date” with Nash.
But she couldn’t.
“Your father’s talking about taking a trip to the ocean for a week or two.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Savannah had been waiting all summer for them to get away.
“I’m not sure we should go.…”
“For heaven’s sake, why not?”
“Oh, well, I hate to leave my garden, especially now. And there’ve been a few break-ins in the neighborhood the last few weeks. I’d be too worried about the house to enjoy myself.” The excuses were so familiar, and Savannah wanted to scream with frustration. But her mother had left out the real reason for her uncertainty. She didn’t want to leave Savannah. Naturally, her parents had never come right out and said that, but it was their underlying reason for staying close to the Seattle area.
Savannah had frequently tried to discuss this with them. However, both her parents just looked at her blankly as if they didn’t understand her concerns. Or they changed the subject. They didn’t realize what poor liars they were.
“Have you seen much of Nash lately?” Her mother’s voice rose expectantly.
“We’ve been working together on the wedding, so we’ve actually been seeing a lot of each other.”
“I meant socially, dear. Has he taken you out? He’s such a nice young man. Both your father and I think so.”
“Mother,” Savannah said, hating this, “I haven’t been dating Nash.”
Her mother’s sigh of disappointment cut through Savannah. “I see.”
“We’re friends, nothing more. I’ve told you that.”
“Of course. Be sure and let me know how the wedding goes, will you?”
Seeing that Nash had spared little expense, it would be gorgeous. “I’ll give you a call early next week and tell you all about it.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, Mom, I promise.”
Savannah replaced the receiver with a heavy heart. The load of guilt she carried was enough to buckle her knees. How could one accident have such a negative impact on so many people for so long? It wasn’t fair that her parents should continue to suffer for what had happened to her. Yet they blamed themselves, and that guilt was slowly destroying the best years of their lives.
Nash arrived at Savannah’s house to pick her up late Saturday afternoon. He looked tall and distinguished in his black tuxedo and so handsome that for an awkward moment, Savannah had trouble taking her eyes off him.
“What’s wrong?” he said, running his finger along the inside of his starched collar. “I feel like a concert pianist.”
Savannah couldn’t keep from smiling. “I was just thinking how distinguished you look.”
His hand went to his temple. “I’m going gray?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Distinguished is the word a woman uses when a man’s entering middle age and losing his hair.”
“If you don’t get us to this wedding, we’re going to miss it, and then you really will lose your hair.” She placed her arm in his and carefully set one foot in front of the other. She rarely wore dress shoes. It was chancy, but she didn’t want to ruin the effect of her full-length dress with flats. Nash couldn’t possibly know the time and effort she’d gone to for this one date, which would likely be their first and last. She’d ordered the dress from New York, a soft, pale pink gown with a pearl-studded yoke. The long, sheer sleeves had layered pearl cuffs. She wore complementary pearl earrings and a single-strand necklace.
It wasn’t often in her life that Savannah felt beautiful, but she did now. She’d worked hard, wanting to make this evening special for Susan—and knowing it would be her only date with Nash. She suspected there was a bit of Cinderella in every woman, the need to believe in fairy tales and happy endings, in true love conquering against impossible odds. For this one night, Savannah longed to forget she was crippled. For this one night, she wanted to pretend she was beautiful. A princess.
Nash helped her across the yard and held open the door for her. She was inside the car, seat belt buckled, when he joined her. His hands gripped the steering wheel, but when he didn’t start the car, she turned to him.
“Is something wrong?”
He smiled at her, but she saw the strain in his eyes and didn’t understand it. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful, I can hardly keep my hands off you.”
“Oh, Nash,” she whispered, fighting tears. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She shook her head, knowing she’d never be able to explain.
The church was lovely. Savannah had rarely seen a sanctuary decorated more beautifully. The altar was surrounded with huge bouquets of pink and white roses, and their scent drifted through the room. The end of each pew was decorated with a small bouquet of white rosebuds and gardenias with pink and silver bows. The effect was charming.
Seated in the front row, Savannah closed her eyes as the organ music swelled. She stood, and from the rustle of movement behind her, she knew the church was filled to capacity.
Savannah turned to see Nash escort his sister slowly down the center aisle, their steps in tune to the music. They were followed by the bridesmaids and groomsmen, most of them recruited late, every one of them delighted to share in Susan and Kurt’s happiness.
Savannah had attended a thousand or more weddings in her years as a coordinator. Yet it was always the same. The moment the music crescendoed, her eyes brimmed with tears at the beauty and emotion of it all.
This wedding was special because the bride was Nash’s sister. Savannah had felt a part of it from the beginning, when Susan had approached her, desperate for assistance. Now it was all coming together and Susan was about to marry Kurt, the man she truly loved.
Nash was uncomfortable with love, and a little jealous, too, although she doubted he recognized that. Susan, the little sister he adored, would soon be married and would move to California with her husband.
When they reached the steps leading to the altar, Susan kissed Nash’s cheek before placing her hand on Kurt’s arm. Nash hesitated as if he wasn’t ready to surrender his sister. Just when Savannah was beginning to get worried, he turned and entered the pew, standing next to her. Either by accident or design, his hand reached for hers. His grip was tight, his face strained with emotion.
Savannah was astonished to see that his eyes were bright with tears. She could easily be mistaken, though, since her own were blurred. A moment later, she was convinced she was wrong.
The pastor made a few introductory comments about the sanctity of marriage. Holding his Bible open, he stepped forward. “I’d like each couple who’s come to celebrate the union of Susan and Kurt to join hands,” he instructed.
Nash took both of Savannah’s hands so that she was forced to turn sideways. His eyes delved into hers, and her heart seemed to stagger to a slow, uneven beat at what she read in them. Nash was an expert at disguising his feelings, yes, but also at holding on to his anger and the pain of his long-dead marriage,