Picture Perfect Wedding (25 page)

“She’s right, princess,” Mrs. Littlejohn said, her voice trembling. “We all want your day to be perfect and we’re going to make it happen.”

While the mother of the bride was soothing her daughter, Erin said very quietly to the other bridesmaids, “Go tell Connie how amazing she is and how she’s the most beautiful bride you’ve ever seen in your life. Do you understand?”

They nodded mutely and sculled champagne.

Erin pulled open the door and grabbed Zoe’s hand. Fortunately, the young woman acquiesced and walked with her down the passage to the room where the groomsmen were dressing. Erin knocked and then opened the door. Seven men gave her a welcoming nod. It was uncanny how they all had the exact same hair color and she realized with a belated jolt that the bridesmaids did too. She thought about the hissy fit Connie had just thrown over nail polish and asked Zoe, “Is Sarah a natural brunette?”

Zoe let out a tight laugh. “With that skin and those eyes, what do you think? Connie told her if she wanted to be her maid of honor she had to dye her hair.”

Before Erin could fully absorb that bit of information, the groom, who was holding a longneck of beer, gave Zoe a long and furtive look before glancing away. A moment later he set his beer down and approached his soon-to-be sister-in-law. His forehead was a sheen of nervous sweat. “You look lovely. How’s Connie?”

Their exchanged glances turned Erin’s mouth dry. No, she was imagining things. She was letting her own nerves about taking a career-defining photo give free rein to her imagination. Still an internal voice yelled
act now.

Before the bridesmaid could open her mouth, Erin said firmly, “Toby, your bride is utterly beautiful and she’s going to take your breath away. Now, it’s time for photos. If we can just get a photo of your mom pinning the boutonniere onto your lapel...”

An hour later, Zoe had gold nails, the groom was bolstered by both beer and his groomsmen, and the bride was one of the most stunning women Erin had ever photographed. Connie was holding her father’s arm and waiting to walk down the green carpet aisle to join her soon-to-be husband. Erin took the photo that would define the last moments of Connie Littlejohn’s life as a single woman.

The music started and Erin snapped the cute flower girl walking a beribboned Maggie-May down the aisle. Under the canopy, as per Connie’s instructions, Mac lay uneasily at the groom’s feet casting confused glances at Luke.

Luke, dressed all in black and looking like an insanely handsome country music singer, bent his head until it was at the level of Erin’s ear. “The groom looks like he’s scared of dogs.”

Erin was pretty certain the groom was scared of something but she’d swear it wasn’t the dog. The service started and she aimed her camera, her attention completely focused on the bride and groom as well as trying to be as unobtrusive as possible so as not to interfere with what should be an intimate and emotional service. As with every wedding, she was so busy that she always felt the formalities went quickly but today it seemed even faster and a touch impersonal. Everything looked perfect so she couldn’t quite put her finger on exactly what was different but there was a lack of something.

The groom kissed the bride and then together they walked back down the long, green carpet toward their hay wagon. The plan was that they would be showered in rice and then be taken on a short wagon ride. While they were catching their breath and spending some special and private minutes together as a married couple, Nicole and the Andersons would guide the guests onto the waiting buses. As soon as the last bus had exited the property, Connie and Toby would return to the field for the photo session.

“They make a striking couple,” Erin said to Luke, who had her camera bag slung over his shoulder and her tripod in his hand ready to move.

He raised his brows. “That’s one way of putting it.”

She frowned, uneasy that she couldn’t just brush away the comment. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing. They have white teeth, an even gait, good muscle tone and—”

“They’re not cows!”

He grinned. “If they were, she’d be described as having a prominent udder. They can’t be real, right?”

She thumped him playfully in the arm. “You’re supposed to be carrying the gear not eyeing the bride.”

He stole a kiss. “Sweetheart, I’ve only got eyes for you.”

A fraction of her heart turned to mush, which scared her, and she swung her mind back to the job at hand. “Come on. I want to meet them as they turn back into the gate from the farm road.” Summoning the rest of the bridal party, she led twelve people down the field.

While they were waiting for the happy couple to return, Erin thoroughly enjoyed taking the photos of the all attendants. Now that the ceremony was over, everyone was relaxed and ready to kick back and have fun. Wade helped by providing more food and drinks, all laid out beautifully on a silver platter which rested on a white cloth-covered table. He’d even arranged a vase of sunflowers. She photographed the setup knowing it would add beautifully to the couple’s album.

As she worked, Luke was surprisingly intuitive about what she needed and when, as he dexterously switched cameras and lenses. At one point she looked up to see him taking a photo of her taking a photo of the wedding party line dancing. She laughed and blew him a kiss.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out and read the text from Nicole. “Okay, everyone,” she called the group together. “Connie and Toby are about to arrive.”

The relaxed mood vanished. Zoe’s brown eyes took on a hue of brittle, burned toffee. Sarah anxiously asked if her hair and makeup were still okay and the rest of the party stared at their feet.
No.
No.
No.
She needed happy for sensational photos. “Luke, call Mac and Maggie-May.”

His expression questioned her but he let out a piercing whistle and the dogs appeared, racing around the group wildly and making everyone smile.

That’s more like it.

The wagon rumbled into the field and Al called, “Whoa,” bringing the horse to a halt. He jumped down and offered his hand to steady the tuxedo-clad Toby off the wagon.

The groom landed awkwardly before turning and putting his arms up to lift Connie down.

Erin was right there next to the wagon, camera ready, waiting for the moment Toby’s hands circled Connie’s waist. Waiting for the second their eyes locked in a long, deep stare that excluded the world—the look that only a couple deeply in love can share. Toby moved. Erin watched. Finally, her finger pressed the shutter despite the argument her brain was having with her retinas that the image wasn’t quite what she wanted.

Toby’s hands were on his bride’s waist but his gaze was centered over her left shoulder looking directly at her sister.

“Be careful of my dress,” Connie instructed. “Don’t tear it or stand on it when you set me down.”

Toby’s hands fell away. “Do you want me to lift you down or not?”

Connie huffed. “I would if I didn’t think you might drop me.”

“If you were so worried about it then why the hell did you want a wagon ride?”

“How about he hands you down,” Luke suggested, moving in with the box he’d pulled off the wagon.

“That’s not the photo I want,” Connie snapped.

Erin saw Luke’s eyes blaze and panic engulfed her.
Please
,
Luke
,
don’t say anything.

Silently, Luke took a step back.

“And it’s always about what Connie wants,” Toby muttered as he roughly lifted her up and unceremoniously dumped her next to him. “Satisfied?”

Erin snapped out of her momentary panic and aimed to take back control with distraction. “Using the dogs to round you up in the middle of the sunflowers will make a fabulous photo.”

Toby sighed.

Connie’s golden forefinger poked at her groom’s starched shirt. “You agreed to everything I’ve suggested about the wedding so don’t go all whiney on me now. My wedding photos are going to get me into
US Bride
and I won’t let you ruin them.”

“And there you have it.” Toby threw up his hands. “I’m just a convenient prop in
your
wedding.”

An uneasy twitter of laughter rose from the group, breaking the tension between the couple.

“Daddy did tell you that it’s all about the bride.” Connie smiled, kissing her groom on the cheek.

Toby looked at Erin, his mouth tight. “Let’s get this over with then.”

Erin moved quickly before another disaster struck and skillfully maneuvered everyone into position. They did a conga line through the flowers. The couple held up a pitchfork and replicated American Gothic, and they played with the dogs. With each shot, Erin felt she was getting closer and closer to
the one.

“What’s next?” Luke asked as he replaced the black-and-white film.

“Peekaboo.”

He scrunched up his face. “You know, I wouldn’t ask this couple to do that one.”

She remembered the time she’d asked him to do it and how he’d caught her in his arms and kissed her for the very first time. “Trust me, Luke. This will give me the defining photo.”

Luke frowned but he didn’t say anything more.

“Toby,” Erin said, “you’ve been fantastic and there’s just one more shot left. Can you step into the sunflowers and pop out like you’re playing peekaboo?”

He stared at her nonplussed.

“Maybe think of it as hide and seek. You can catch Connie and twirl her around. It’ll be fun.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Toby, it’s one photo,” Connie said firmly.

“I’ve done all the others but I’m not doing that one.”

Erin read the intransigence on Toby’s face and heard it in his voice. She needed to tread carefully. “Okay. How about you just hold Connie close and rest your forehead on hers? Gaze into her eyes so we can all share the love you have for each other.” She waited for him to move.

“No.”

She needed this photo. “I’m happy to try something else. Do you have an idea of something you’d like to try?”

“You know what?” Toby pulled roughly at his bow tie as if it was choking him. “I’m done.”

“You’re done when I say we’re done,” Connie spat.

Erin could feel things slipping away from her and she knew she hadn’t captured the moment between the couple that would win her the Memmy. “How about hand in hand walking down the field?”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m totally done.” He turned to Connie, his face haggard but a light of relief glowed in his eyes. “It’s over, Con. We were over six months ago and I tried to tell you but like with everything you refused to hear.”

Connie stared at him, her mouth moving but there was no sound coming out.

He ran his hand through his hair. “And I was too weak to push it but I’m pushing it now. Tomorrow morning, I’m applying for an annulment.”

Erin’s blood dropped to her feet. It was like watching a trucking rig careening out of control and heading straight toward a crowd, and being totally powerless to prevent the crippling carnage.

“Does anyone have a paper sack?” Sarah asked anxiously as Connie’s breathing quickened and her face drained of color.

“You prick!” Connie finally screamed at full throttle before lunging for him. “You fucking bastard, I’m going to kill you.”

Luke moved quickly, wrapping his arms around the flailing bride, working hard to keep her separate from Toby. Panting, he said to the groom, “If you’re walking, pal, go now and go fast.”

“Let go of me,” Connie yelled, trying to kick Luke.

Toby hesitated half a beat, spun on his heel and marched toward the gate, dust rising from his heels.

Zoe hauled her long dress up to her knees, kicked off her high heels and starting running. “Wait! I’m coming with you.”

Toby paused and extended his hand. Zoe caught it and they both kept walking.

The rest of the bridal party stared in disbelief, their gazes shifting between the retreating couple and the screeching bride, all of them too shocked to speak.

Right on cue, the two limousines that were to have taken the bridal party back into Whitetail arrived and Nicole hopped out with a confused smile. “Is everything okay?”

Erin vomited.

Chapter Nineteen

The air in the cottage was filled with a fraught anxiety which had hit Luke in the chest the moment he’d stepped inside. He’d watched Erin click through every photo she’d taken at the ill-fated wedding at least five times and he knew she’d been at it much longer than that.

He ran his hand across her hair before letting it rest on her shoulder. “Erin, it’s nine o’clock and time to stop.”

It had been a memorable five hours for all the wrong reasons. The Littlejohns had helicoptered in their physician who’d sedated the hysterical bride. Mrs. Littlejohn had suffered an angina attack on hearing the news that the groom had run off with her other daughter and both Connie and her mother had been evacuated to the Twin Cities. With no room on the helicopter, the bride’s father had wanted blood. Luke felt for him but at the same time, he didn’t like the look in his eyes so for the safety of the Andersons and the townsfolk, Luke wanted him off the farm and out of Whitetail as soon as possible. Wade had understood and together they’d driven him to the tiny tri-county airport so he could charter a plane to return him to Saint Paul.

Nicole had been amazing, organizing the stunned wedding party into town with a minimum of fuss so they could join the other guests. The reception had gone ahead, in as much as the food was served because everyone was from out of town and hungry. Wade told him that Ella Norell had taken the much-anticipated cake to the town hall where all the Whitetailians involved in the wedding had gathered to eat cake and debrief. Everyone except Erin. She’d refused both Nicole’s invitation and Wade’s cajoling. Luke had stayed with her until he had to go mix the cow feed and distribute it in the barn. Now he was back and she was still at the computer.

Her hair stuck up in jagged spikes as if she’d pulled it up at the roots. “I think there’s one I could use.”

“One what?”

She stared at him, her eyes dilated and slightly wild. “Photo. For the Memmy.”

“Erin,” he spoke softly. “They’re getting an annulment.”

She shrugged his hand away. “I know that but they got married and I’ve poured hours of work into this shoot. I’ve been editing this one. What do you think?”

He stared at the photo. The sunflowers, so bright and cheery, almost leaped off the screen and it was impossible not to smile at the hope they inspired. In contrast, the bride looked like a bored model and the groom looked utterly miserable.

“Not even the ‘Erin Davis touch’ is going to make this work.”

“I make people look happy,” she ground out. “It’s what I do.”

He frowned. “You do when the conditions are right, but you can’t create a moment that doesn’t even exist.”

She shook her head. “No, you’re wrong. It’s so much more than that.” She dropped her head in her hands. “I can’t believe he left her.”

Luke could—Connie Littlejohn was obnoxious and Erin had pinned so much on the shoot that she’d totally missed seeing that. “Come here.” He pulled her to her feet and kissed her, hugging her hard and wishing he could absorb her disappointment. He moved her toward the bed and they lay down together.

“I wanted this so much, Luke. This was supposed to be my moment, my chance to shine and show the world that I take great wedding photos.”

“You do take great photos. You just had the wrong bride and groom. Connie was all about the wedding, not the marriage, and the only emotional well available to tap was pain and anger. Don’t beat yourself up.”

Her entire body slumped against his. “Do you know anyone madly in love who wants to get married this coming week while the sunflowers are perfect?”

He let her hair slide through his fingers and smiled. The failed wedding had undermined his plan to propose to Erin over champagne after she’d found her perfect photo, but she’d just given him the perfect segue. “I might.”

She sat up fast, her face alive with hope and enthusiasm. “Who? Do they have a photographer? Do you have their number?”

His heart expanded again. God, he loved her so much. Loved her zest for life, her “can do” attitude and the way she bounced back from disappointment. He couldn’t help grinning. “Yes, I know them. No, they don’t have a photographer but I do have their number.”

“Can you call them, please? Set up an appointment?”

He traced her cheek with his finger. “No need.”

Two frown marks scored the bridge of her nose. “I don’t understand.”

He rolled off the bed and kneeled down beside it before picking up her hand. “I love you, Erin. Marry me?”

Her eyes widened into a fathomless green sea. “Be serious, Luke. This is my future.”

“I know it is,” he said gravely. “Yours and mine.”

Her face paled and she raised her free hand to touch his face. “Oh my God, you’re really serious.”

“I am.” He pulled her closer. “You marched into my life and made me realize I’ve not only been lonely but I’ve been trying to fit myself into a business that doesn’t totally fit me.”

“Luke, I—”

“Please.” He put his forefinger gently against her mouth, wanting to tell her everything. “I’ve got so much more I need to say. That night you helped deliver Essie’s calf, you said I needed my own project. I didn’t want to hear it but now I know you’re right. I need the challenge and the excitement of something new to get me up in the morning, to keep me focused and enthusiastic, so I’m starting a new venture for me, for you, for us. I’ve got a meeting with the bank on Wednesday and we’re going into the gourmet ice cream business.”

She sat perfectly still. “I’m a photographer, Luke.”

His eagerness spilled over. “I know and I want one of your photos of the farm to be the signature look for Lakeview Farm ice cream. Maybe that one you took of the cows through the trees?”

She stared at him and he scanned her face seeking delight on her cheeks for the idea, looking for the zest roving across her mouth for the project, and for her love for him glowing in her eyes. He found nothing. It was like looking at an expressionless plaster cast.

Blinking, as if she was coming back to him from a very long way away, she asked faintly, “What sort of loan are you talking about?”

He sat back on the bed facing her. “Substantial. It’s an investment in our future and I’m taking a two-pronged approach. There’s the refrigeration plant for the ice creamery as well as establishing a Jersey cow herd.” The buzz he got whenever he thought about the new venture fizzed in his veins and he squeezed her hand. “Initially, we’ll be supplementing our milk with milk from the Amish farm down the road. Jersey milk’s high in butter fat which makes the creamiest ice cream.”

Incredulity spun across her cheeks. “You’re going into
debt
to make ice cream?”

He shrugged against a tiny ripple of exasperation that she wasn’t as excited as he was. “There’s a definite gap in the Midwest market right now for pure, simple, old-fashioned creamy ice cream straight off the farm.” He grinned at her. “And who knows? Maybe in the future we can expand beyond the Midwest and take on those two guys from Vermont.”

“If you invest in a luxury item you’re likely to end up losing everything.”

Exasperation morphed into chagrin. “It’s not designer clothing or diamond-studded watches. I’ve studied the market and done the math, Erin. This isn’t a whim. Even in tough economic times, people buy ice cream because it’s an affordable luxury.”

She shook her head as her fingers pulled at the quilt on the bed. “It’s too much of a risk.”

The words penetrated his excitement as if amplified by her total lack of enthusiasm and a chill settled over him. “What is? The ice cream venture or marrying me?”

Her eyes filled with misery. “Both.”

The softly spoken word was like the wet, black mud of the marshland, and it sucked him down, trying to bury his soul. He refused to let it. He could still convince her.

“I’m sorry, Luke.” Her eyes implored him to understand. “I can’t be with you with that insurmountable level of debt.”

“It’s not insurmountable debt,” he said firmly, “and it’s called a business loan.”

She stiffened. “Don’t lecture me when I know far more about debt than you do. How can you take the security of what you’ve got here and gamble it on a crazy idea that can risk you losing the farm?”

“Gamble it?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing given the nights he’d been turning figures while she’d been editing photos. “Shit, Erin, this isn’t a gamble. This is a solid plan.”

“And that’s exactly what my father would say.” Her fingers pulled at the quilt. “Can’t you see?”

He could see all too well and at that moment he hated Tom, and he’d never really hated anyone in his life. He sucked in a steadying breath and tried to keep his voice even. “I can’t see how it is anything like your father. I can give you a spreadsheet with real costings, projected earnings from the farm and the ice creamery, plus loan repayments and how they’ll be serviced along with a buffer if things are slower to take off. It’s a calculated risk on the low side of failure.”

“Figures lie, Luke.” The harshness in her voice thundered into him. “You can make them work any way you need them to.”

I’m not the con man your father is.
The words teetered on his lips but with a shock of clarity, he realized that hurling them at her would serve no purpose, nor would they change her mind. Tom was a charlatan but he was still Erin’s father and familial ties ran deep and could surface at any time. Disparaging her father to defend himself and the business was not the path to take to make her change her mind. She feared financial risk and given what had happened to her, he could understand it but this situation, their situation, was totally different.

He’d rely on the simple truth. “Erin, I love you and together we can make this work.”

She shook her head so hard her hair swung wide. “You don’t love me. You’re confusing loneliness with love. I filled a void in your life with a summer fling, is all. You can fill loneliness with anyone.”

The black bog surged forward, its thick, sticky mass sticking to his heart with a message he refused to accept. He would change her mind. He’d show her that they truly belonged together because contemplating the opposite was far too terrifying. “Before I met you, Erin, marriage had never even crossed my radar, but with you it makes so much sense.”

His hands cupped her cheeks and he sought her gaze. “I want to share my life with yours and I promise you, the ice creamery will not bankrupt us. Trust me. Know implicitly that I will never do anything or let anything hurt you.”

Luke’s words burned through Erin like the sizzle of a brand. Identical words used by her father called up the past so strongly it made her gasp. How often had he made her a promise that he then broke moments, hours or days later, hurting her deeply?

Jumping off the bed, she pointed to the screen where a slideshow of photos moved across the screen showing Connie and Toby making their vows. “They pledged to love each other, made promises, invoked trust and it lasted less than two hours!”

His lake-blue eyes darkened like water under the clouds of an approaching storm. “You can’t seriously be comparing us to them?”

“Why not?” Her heart pounded and her head hurt. “They’ve known each other longer than we have.”

“Connie Littlejohn is a raving loon.” He ran his hand through his hair as if dragging at his patience. “I know how much security means to you, Erin, and I’m not asking you to invest any of your savings into the farm. Just invest in me.”

The panic that had been rising in her from the moment he’d first proposed overflowed and flooded her. Agitation vibrated every part of her. “I can’t marry you, Luke,” she said, begging him to understand. “It wouldn’t work. We’d argue over money and make each other miserable.”

He flinched as if she’d slapped him. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”

She spoke from her heart. “It’s what I know to be true and nothing you can say will make me change my mind.”

Luke’s face crumpled for a brief moment, only to immediately harden. She saw the angry man—the one she’d first met all those weeks ago—return and she ached that she was the cause.

“So if you’re not marrying me, what will you do?”

She bit her lip at the harshness in his voice. “What I’ve always done. Make people happy.”

His bark of a laugh rained scorn all over her. “You don’t make people happy, Erin. If they’re happy to begin with you work with them and relax them so they can get past their nerves. Then you find the truth of their happiness and photograph it. If they’re not, well, today is a case in point.”

His words struck hard and she flicked the mouse onto a different folder and displayed a photo she’d taken of him and his siblings. “Look at that. You were hardly a cohesive family the day I took it.”

“Sure, we had the issue of the future of the farm but we came together for our parents, to give them a photo of us all together. You captured the love that lives in each of us for Mom and Dad.” He gave a pitying sigh. “You’re a good photographer, Erin, but if the love for our parents didn’t exist there’s no way on earth you could have photographed it.

“I think you’ve confused the happiness you experience from photography with the clients. You need to believe you make people happy because it makes you feel needed and safe.”

His words tore at her. It was as if he was emotionally undressing her and she fought back, wanting it to stop. “That’s so far from the truth to be ludicrous.”

“Is it?” His gaze zeroed in on her with laser-sharp precision. “You love developing your own photos even though you could send them to a lab.”

The muted sounds of her parents arguing rumbled in the back of her mind and she blocked them out. “You know what, Luke? As a therapist you make a good farmer.”

The insult rolled off his tense shoulders. “Taking calculated risks is a part of life, Erin, but you’ve run from that. You’re hiding behind a lens and watching other people live their lives instead of living your own because you’re scared.”

His words hailed down on her, inflicting the sharp and burning pain of ice on skin. “My life is just fine, thank you very much. Just because I don’t want to live with massive debt hanging over my head doesn’t mean I’m hiding. I like my life just fine this way.”