Making Magic (14 page)

“Oh this has been amazing,” Mel’s mother Trish said. “The entire valley—”

“I think they call it a hollow here,” her husband, Craig, cut in.

Thea had noticed right away that Mel was a petite version of her mother. Trish Noblett had the same chameleon eyes and sun-kissed blond hair, though hers was much longer than Mel’s pixie cut. She grinned at Trish’s expression when Craig leaned over to kiss her nose in apology.

Trish tried again. “The entire
hollow
looks like a fairyland with all the sparkling lights everywhere. I was afraid it would be so dark up here after the sun went down. But there are so many lights and lanterns—”

“And sunflowers. Very Tuscan,” Craig chimed in. He was very proud of his Italian heritage and Thea had to concede that he did look a lot more like a Carlo Adessi than a Craig Noblett. His stepfather had legally changed not only his last name, but also his first when Craig was only a toddler.

“With the candles and wine and the food and music,” Trish went on. “It’s perfect.”

Thea raised her hands. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Me neither,” Ouida chimed in next to her. “This is my night off!”

When they looked at Grace, she waved her fingers at the bride and groom’s table up on the gazebo. “Your daughter was the driving force behind all of this. Perhaps she inherited some of your magical ability.”

“Hey, I helped out,” Eddie said as he stood to go check out the desserts. “Gazebos don’t build themselves.”

Craig leaned back in his chair and surveyed the enchanted garden that Mel and her helpers had created. “I bet she did have a lot of help.” He took a long look at his daughter and her new husband as they made their way down the gazebo steps. “But she is still a marvel.”

Thea had to admit the two of them looked sublimely happy. Mel had removed her simple fingertip veil, leaving only the satin headband nested in her hair. Daniel had unpinned his own sunflower and ribbon boutonniere and tucked it behind her ear. Jamie had demanded that Nick, as the best man, do the same for her, so she now sported one that was dangling precariously from her headband.

Mel’s dress was absolute perfection. Simple and classic, with a ruched strapless bodice in ivory silk, the gown was perfect for her petite figure. Her waist was defined by a band of dark teal satin that draped to the floor with her train. Her bouquet, an explosion of sunflowers, delicate ivory blossoms and teal ribbons, was a splash of color against the ivory gathers of the skirt.

The sun had cooperated, as Mel had hoped, providing a cascade of colors in the sky above them during the ceremony. The two had exchanged their vows on the steps of their front porch with the guests gathered on beribboned, flower-festooned chairs in the front yard. Even some of Daniel’s bees, heading home for the night, had come to investigate the ceremony, perhaps to pay their respects.

Thea reminded herself to ask Daniel for a copy of the poem they had read to each other during their vows. She was pretty sure it was Elizabeth Barrett Browning—one of the
Sonnets From the Portuguese
—but if it was, it wasn’t one of the better-known poems. Someone had commented that it seemed an odd choice, but she had thought it was perfect—something about two souls standing strong together—loving each other despite the surrounding darkness. That was what marriage had to be these days—a fierce light in the dark of this damaged world.

As Trish had pointed out, the lighting was perfect as twilight turned to dusk with Mel’s lanterns and candles and the abundance of fairy lights strung everywhere, even twinkling from inside mason jars. The garden around them provided its own decoration with so many white flowers in bloom.

Thea sighed. It really was perfect. The weather had continued to cooperate, allowing them to forego the tents and use the stars as their canopy. Citronella torches encircled the garden and recorded music provided a quiet undertone to the conversations buzzing around each table.

“The fun part of the evening’s about to begin,” Grace said, looking at the dance floor.

Four decorated posts delineated the corners of a portable wooden floor, lit by crisscrossed strings of lights and lanterns. Thea saw Jake’s group setting up on a smaller stage area off to the side. She looked away before Jake could catch her checking him out.

He had played his hammered dulcimer for the wedding ceremony, lovely soft Celtic tunes with “All in a Garden Green” for the processional. She had been standing with her back to him, but she had felt every note reverberate somewhere inside her. By the end of the ceremony, when the wedding party had almost danced off to his lively rendition of “Haste to the Wedding,” her skin was tingling.

Thea had never seen Jake in a suit before. At Becca’s and Pops’s funerals he had been in his uniform. He looked damn good in a uniform, but he looked pretty terrific in a suit too.

He had even shaved off the permanent scruff that had been his trademark as sheriff. Instead of making him less sexy, it made him more so. His mouth was more noticeable, perhaps. And he had such a nice mouth—

She stood. “Okay, anyone else going to watch them smear cake on each other?”

“Oh, yes, we need to take pictures!” Trish jumped up and tugged her husband away.

“That’s what the photographer is for!” he protested as she pulled him after her into the crowd.

“I’m staying here to make sure Jamie doesn’t stuff herself with dessert then dance herself into an upset stomach.” Jamie’s mother Beth said.

Nick smirked. “Good luck with that.”

Beth shook her head. “I know. But we have to be on that plane so early tomorrow—”

“Don’t worry, Beth. We’ll make sure she doesn’t get sick,” Grace promised. “I’m not moving until I have to. The father of my child is going to bring me one of those
bongo
things that Mel has been raving about. Actually, bring the tray.”

Nick got up, grinning. “Yes ma’am. Beth, Ouida, you ladies need anything?”

Beth grimaced. “Ack. I’ll take one of those
bongo
things too. Jamie won’t shut up about them.”

“I think I’ll go inspect the desserts myself,” Ouida said, rising from her chair. “While there are still some left.”

“Can you watch Bailey for me?” Thea asked. Both Grace and Trish nodded, smiling at the dog who was wagging her tail at everyone who passed, shamelessly mooching—or perhaps looking for a better owner.

Thea was relieved to get up and move about instead of dwelling on Jake Moser’s mouth. If she hadn’t gotten tipsy and kissed him yesterday, she wouldn’t be getting all hot and bothered now about how his scruffy face had rubbed against her lips and how his tongue had—

“I have to tell you that dress looks like it was made for you,” Nick said as he caught up with her. They’d joined a small crowd gathered to watch the cake cutting. “You look great. I think being back on the mountain agrees with you.”

“Thanks.” Thea said, trying not to look at the band.

“Have you thought about staying?”

“What?”

“You’re looking for a job and the Firefly Foundation could use a lawyer.” They walked around to get a better look at the cake table.

Daniel and Mel had decided to forego the face-smearing part of feeding cake to each other. As Mel lifted Daniel’s piece, he scooped it carefully into his mouth then licked the icing off her fingers, with far more diligence than necessary. When Mel returned the favor even more slowly, Thea knew that watching those two had been a big mistake. There were squeals, some oohing and aahing and a lot of laughter from the crowd. Even the photographer looked a bit distracted.

“I-I’m going to get something to drink,” she said quickly and headed for one of the open bars. It was rude to ignore Nick’s question like that, but she couldn’t think straight at the moment. Daniel and Mel seemed to be emitting pheromones or something, judging from the looks on everyone’s faces.

And the one thing she didn’t need at the moment was pheromones. The atmosphere was charged enough with the recorded music, which she knew was Jake’s doing—she could hear his hammered dulcimer now and again, along with a Celtic fiddle that sounded hauntingly like Becca’s. The music was perfectly selected not to intrude on the festivities. Not yet anyway. And the mountain. Even the damn mountain seemed to be humming under her feet, as if every sighing branch or leafy rustle were joining in. But the vibrations were distracting, sending tingles up her spine.

“Can I help you?” the bartender asked.

Maybe alcohol wasn’t the best idea. Not after what happened last time—not with Jake in the vicinity. “Oh…uh…I… Do you have coffee?”

He smiled. “No ma’am, but they do over there at the dessert buffet. I only have wine, beer and cider here.”

She looked over at the busy dessert buffet and spied Jake’s tawny head above the crowd. “On second thought, I’ll take a glass of wine, please. Or could I have the whole bottle?”

The bartender’s smile didn’t waver. “I can certainly get you a glass, ma’am.”

“You can trust her with a bottle,” Nick said from behind, making her jump. “She’s not driving home.”

“Of course, Mr. McKenzie. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized. The bridal party—”

Nick waved at him. “No problem. I’m glad you guys are keeping tabs on all of us wild partiers.”

The man simply grinned. “We have lots of experience. But these mountain roads up here make it even more important.”

Thea was reminded of Marilyn Moser and decided she didn’t want the wine after all. She stayed quiet as the bartender opened a bottle of Prosecco and handed it to Nick.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Nick said as they navigated their way back to the table.

“Hey Nick!” someone said from one of the tables. “Best wedding I’ve been to in a long while.”

Nick waved. “Tell the bride. It’s all her doing.”

“The Woodsman would approve,” said another.

“Tell Daniel. He’d love to hear it,” Nick replied.

Grace’s husband already had strong roots on this mountain and in this community after only nine months. Thea felt even more like a prodigal sibling.

“So?” he asked.

“I agree. I think Pops would approve,” Thea said, looking around. “He would love this.”

“I’m sure. But you’re avoiding my question.”

Why did this feel like a very polite interrogation? She turned back to him and took a drink of the Prosecco. “There isn’t really a full-time job for an attorney up here, is there?”

“Yes.”

“Sure there is.” Her sarcasm was hard to miss.

He smiled enigmatically. Jamie was coming back with an overloaded tray. “We can discuss it later.”

“I brought everybody a
bongo
,” Jamie said like a proud hunter returning with her prize. It looked like a pile of cream puffs drizzled in chocolate.

As Thea took her seat, Bailey came over to see if she’d brought back anything tasty. The dog got one of the chunks of cheese Thea had set aside to keep her happy.

“Do you think there will be cannolis left? Is it cannoli or cannolis? Is cannoli plural? I don’t want to miss those.” Jamie went on. “Maybe I should go back right away before they’re gone. Does anyone else want one? Should I bring a tray of those too?”

“Cannoli is plural. Cannolo is the singular.” Craig said.

“And there is plenty of food. Trust me. We’ll be eating cannoli for weeks.” Grace reassured her. “You can take a box back to Baltimore with you.”

“Great!” Jamie’s mouth was already stuffed to overflowing with cream and chocolate.

Beth rolled her eyes as she nibbled on one of the cream puffs. “I’ll just hose her down before bed.”

There was the distinct sound of someone tapping on a microphone followed by a voice that made Thea wish she had drunk a bit more wine. She turned toward the dance floor.

“Ladies and gents, if I can have your attention!” Jake announced. “We are Songs in the Wood and we’re gonna get your feet moving tonight. First the lovely bride and the gorgeous groom—” there was much laughter, “—would like to say something to all you wonderful folks.”

“Thank you, handsome sheriff,” Mel said, followed by even more laughter. “Daniel and I would like to thank all of you for being here tonight to celebrate with us. We especially want to thank our families for their support and love.
Ti vogliamo bene
, which means ‘we love you’.” She handed the mike to Daniel.

“And thank you to Jake Moser for all the great music tonight—he made that instrument himself, by the way.”

There was a sustained round of applause until Jake finally stood and bowed from behind his dulcimer.

“And to our caterer, Fresh From the Farm Catering, for their great food and service. I think they got Ouida’s stamp of approval.” Ouida gave a thumbs-up from where she was daintily eating a piece of tiramisu.

“And finally to all of you for attending. As a very small token of our love and gratitude, you will find hidden in the table centerpieces in front of each of you a honey pot, already filled. The pot is from Dreaming in Clay, my wife’s…” He stopped and grinned after saying the word. Everyone clapped at his besotted expression. “My wife’s favorite store. The honey is from our new apiary.”