Picture Perfect Wedding (27 page)

She smiled at him. “Phil, I’m sure it’s your and my night off.” She jerked her thumb toward her two eldest children who were still horsing around. “Those two can serve us.”

Keri and Wade immediately started arguing good-naturedly over who was doing what in the final stages of the meal preparation. As everyone started drifting into the house, Luke leaned back on the porch post and the irony of the situation sucked the breath right out of his lungs.

The family farm was now safe. His family was at peace again in a way that only five strong-minded adults can be—a way that worked for them—and everyone was looking forward to new directions. It should have been perfect. A few weeks ago he would have considered having his mojo back and his family on board with his plans nirvana.

Now he knew it didn’t come close.

But it was going to have to do.

When he’d offered Erin everything, he’d put his heart on the line for the first time in his adult life. She’d returned it battered and had trampled all over his plans, not wanting to be part of any of them. Not wanting his love.

The dull ache that had become part of him throbbed. Love either existed or it didn’t. Futures couldn’t be built on a one-sided dream nor could they happen where there was no trust that together they could build something great. If he could wave a wand and have what he wanted most in the world it would be Erin loving him and being an enthusiastic partner in his life, as he would be in hers.

But magic wands didn’t exist.

He heard the low mooing coming from the barn, reminding him of his new Jersey cows. Unlike Erin, he could see something great. He could taste it and with hard work, sound business planning and a little bit of luck, he’d build something he was proud of. He could do this and by hell, he would.

He pushed off the porch railing with a clarity of purpose for his life. He was done with Erin and like the excruciating rip of a bandage coming off of hair-covered skin, he let go of her and visualized his future.

The sting lingered on his heart.

Chapter Twenty

It was past eleven and Erin was staring at her appointment board. She wasn’t going to have to move a single thing around to accommodate a bride who wanted to discuss the idea of photos in the Cowles Conservatory and the sculpture park.

There’s work in Whitetail.

So not going there.

Over the past two months, Nicole had been doing everything in her power to get Erin to consider moving to Whitetail permanently. She’d even visited Erin in Minneapolis during a short break with Tony and Max.

“Erin, we worked so well together, you must come back. Please.”

“We need you.” Tony had smiled encouragingly before putting his one arm around Nicole and the other around Max. “Besides, we need you there to take our wedding photos.”

“Can your dog come?” Max had asked hopefully as Maggie-May licked his face.

Although her bank account would love the work, Erin didn’t think she could be that mercenary. Whitetail meant steady employment but it also meant meeting Luke at town meetings, in the bakery and at social functions. She’d been back to shoot one wedding where he’d had been a guest. He’d left before dessert was served and she knew it was because of her. He didn’t deserve to have to dodge her all over a town he’d called home for thirty years. She owed him that at least. So, she was back in Minneapolis again, touting for business and sticking to her original plan. There was nothing wrong with that. A slow and steady growth was better than expanding too fast, too soon and losing everything. At least she didn’t have huge debt and she could sleep at night.

You are so not sleeping at night.

True, but it wasn’t due to debt.

Male voices outside her door jerked her out of her thoughts and Maggie-May gave a halfhearted bark. Apart from being excited with Max, she’d been mostly listless since coming home. Erin had been worried enough to take her precious to the vet, but the young woman had given Maggie-May a clean bill of health and suggested plenty of exercise. Erin knew what the problem was but she doubted the vet believed in a broken heart. Maggie-May was going to have to toughen up and get over it.

What?
Just like you are?

The scratch of Jesse’s key in the lock knocked the uncomfortable thoughts aside. Although she’d been back home for weeks, Jesse was still living with her and as much as she grumbled at him about his appalling inaccuracy in using the laundry hamper as the hoop and his dirty clothing as the ball, she appreciated having him around. He filled and overflowed the way-too-quiet spaces in her life and she needed that.

Soon after her return from Whitetail, acquaintances had frequently asked, “Didn’t the quiet of the country make you crazy?” At first she’d tried to explain that what with the moos of the cows, the calls of the loons, the hum of the tractor and the gentle wash of the lake water against the beach, it wasn’t quiet at all. But their question was always rhetorical so instead of telling them that in Whitetail people stopped by just to chat and that in many ways her days were a lot less quiet than here, she just smiled and nodded. At first she’d made a flip comment about being glad she was back close to decent coffee half a block away, but she’d soon dropped that line because Luke had always made good coffee and talking about it reminded her of him.

She didn’t need or want reminding of Luke. Her cold and empty bed did that every single night.

You’ve turned safe into catatonic.
Luke’s voice taunted her and she blocked it out with,
He didn’t understand me.
Remember
,
no regrets.

“Look who I found at the club,” Jesse said as he put his guitar down by the door and dropped his keys into the bowl.

Her father stepped into the apartment with a smile and wide, open arms. “Erin.”

A shock of surprise detonated inside her. Although she’d had the occasional text and phone call, she hadn’t seen him since he’d driven away from the farm. Thoughts of the farm gave life to the hollow feeling inside of her and she suddenly had an overwhelming need for human contact. Without thinking, she walked into his arms for a quick hug. He smelled of expensive cologne just as he’d always done. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“He came to hear the band,” Jesse offered by way of explanation as he opened the fridge and pulled out some beers. “You want one, sis?”

She shook her head. She was having enough trouble sleeping and alcohol always made it worse. “No, thanks.”

Her father accepted the beer and they all sat around her small table. “You’re looking good, Poppet.”

Was her father just trying to cheer her up? With dark rings under her eyes that no concealer could totally mask, she knew she looked like hell. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Jesse tells me that you won a photography competition.” His eyes held hurt which briefly flickered with something else, but before she could catch it, it faded.

“I thought you would have told me about it,” he continued, “seeing as I visited the sunflower field where it all took place.”

Unexpected guilt fluttered through her and she tried without success to block it. “Sorry. I didn’t actually win the competition. I won a section but not the grand overall prize and it wasn’t with a sunflower photo.” She bit the inside of her mouth so that the memory of what came after the failed wedding didn’t swamp her. Despite knowing she’d done the right thing for both of them, Luke’s pain-filled face had a habit of reappearing in her mind. “The photo was one I took of an older couple in their strawberry field.”

“Show Dad the photo,” Jesse said encouragingly. “What’s awesome is that the bride must be forty but the way the guy’s looking at her, all you can see is how totally hot he thinks she is.”

“Jesse!” Erin gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder. “Please don’t turn my wedding photos into porn. The art of the shot is in the fact that the bride’s bare feet are pressed into the soil of the strawberry field.”

He looked at her utterly dumfounded at the criticism in her voice. “You’re wrong, you know. It won because of the look on that guy’s face.”

Luke’s voice surfaced uninvited.
You find the truth of their happiness and photograph it.

She didn’t know what she did anymore.

His father grinned at his son. “From my position, forty is the new twenty.” He turned to Erin. “Don’t be ashamed of not winning overall.”

“I’m not.” A bristle of irritation raised its head—not just at her father but at herself. She’d been battling for two months to find the same joy in her work that she’d always found, but since the Littlejohn wedding she’d doubted her artistic eye. It was Nicole who’d asked her permission to enter that particular photo of Lindsay and Keith into the small competition run by a Midwest weddings website in the hope it would raise the profile of Whitetail Weddings That Wow. Erin thought the photo had no chance and that the fee was a waste of Nicole’s money but the judges had loved it. Now it seemed even Jesse could see something in the photo she’d missed. It reinforced a nagging and persistent voice that she had no clue what she was doing anymore. That perhaps she’d never had a clue.

“Did you get a plaque to dust?” her father asked.

“She got cash and a new camera,” Jessie said, rising to pick up the plaque to show his father.

Tom smiled. “It all helps to build your nest egg, eh?”

“It does.” She thought about how much working in Whitetail had done that.

Jesse’s phone rang. “Sorry, it’s Lenny about the tour next week.” He excused himself to take the call.

A silence stretched out between them. “What did you think of the band, Dad?”

“He’ll grow up one day, I guess.”

Again the bristling sensation sent a crop of goose bumps across her skin. Did her father have the right to criticize when he’d been absent for years? “Jesse works hard at his music.”

“But does he work smart?” Her father spun a cardboard coaster. “You know that working two jobs often isn’t enough to pay the bills.”

She thought about the years on the move where her mother had been working while her father had been working at chasing the next big thing. “Yeah, you taught me that.”

He nodded as if not realizing she hadn’t given him a compliment. “I also taught you to make your money work for you but you’re still not doing that, are you?”

“I’m investing in my account in the bank.”

“That’s a step forward I suppose.” He grinned at her. “At least it’s no longer under the floorboards.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re back in town, Erin. I was worried about that guy you were seeing—”

That guy?
“Luke?”

“Yeah, Luke.” Tom nodded thoughtfully. “I think breaking it off with him was a good idea.”

The offer of parental support warmed her. “Thanks, Dad. I do too.”
Liar.
She immediately needed some reassurance to counter the screaming denial in her head that kept gaining volume. “Why was it a good idea?”

Tom scratched his chin. “Just a feeling I had. He was telling me about the farm and the sort of debt that’s involved in a huge operation like that.”

“And he’s extending the debt for a new business.” Just thinking about it made her shiver.

“Is he now? Well, that makes a lot of things clearer.” He leaned back and finished his beer.

She studied his expression. “What do you mean? Clearer?”

Tom shrugged. “I said to him that I wanted to help you out with getting enough money together to lease a studio. At that point he told me to get off his property.”

That doesn’t sound like Luke
. “I don’t understand. Why would he do that?”

Tom picked up her hands with fatherly affection. “I’m sorry I have to spell it out to you but he had other plans for your money. He didn’t want me around insisting that you get your studio.”

Had she heard right? “You want to help me with the studio?”

He smiled widely. “Of course I do.”

Hope soared out of the ashes of the past. After all the years of not being there and constantly letting her down, her father had come to her offering to help. He’d really meant what he’d said in Whitetail.

“If having your own studio is what you want,” Tom continued, “then that’s what I want for you too.” He gave her a long look. “I only want for you to be happy.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Excitement spun in her belly. “There’s the perfect space down in the Northrup King building. I can show you tomorrow and I’m only a few thousand short but if you go guarantor for the lease—”

“Hang on a bit, Poppet.” He laughed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I want to help, I really do, but it won’t be a cash handout. You’ve always been so independent and I know you wouldn’t want that either.”

She wanted to yell,
I’m so tired and worn down by everything that I’d love a cash gift
, but she made herself keep listening.

“I can advise you on how your money can work for you. I know you prefer the bank and if you move some of it into a high-interest account, then that’s a start. I also have some money in a company which is giving good returns right now. It’s as safe as the bank but with better returns. Of course the less you invest the less you get back but I promise you, you’ll either be working in your studio by the end of the year or the end of next.” He smiled. “It’s totally up to you.”

I
promise you.
The well-worn words that had always fallen so easily from his mouth burned her like acid and opened her eyes. She studied her father as if really seeing him for the very first time tonight. The collar on his designer shirt was worn, the expensive cut of his hair was growing out and his eyes held the hard glitter of an addict close to getting his hit. In his case, money.

You fool.
She withdrew her hands from under his, pressing the palms hard onto the table so she didn’t hit him or face-palm herself. “Are you involved in another start-up company, Dad?”

He shook his head almost too heartily. “No. I’ve been importing cardboard boxes from China for the last two years.”

She wanted desperately to believe him. “Is this investment in cardboard boxes?”

“Diversity is the key, Erin, and your money will be invested in a variety of companies, all of which will return your money to you and more. Like I’ve always said, work smart not hard.”

With the skill of a politician, he’d dodged a straight question and given a vague answer intended to reassure. “What’s the name of the investment group, Dad?”

“Rochester Holdings.”

She immediately typed the name into the internet browser on her phone.

“When did you get so skeptical, Poppet?” He plucked the phone from her fingers and tilted her chin. “Look at me. I’m here to help you. If I didn’t care about you I would have let Luke take all your money for his money pit of a farm.”

The words bombarded her. Pulling at her complex feelings for her father and her need to believe he had her best interests at heart, and tugging at the mess that was her now dead relationship with Luke.

I
know how much security means to you
,
Erin
,
and I’m not asking you to invest any of your savings into the farm
.

It was as if Luke had just entered the room, striding forward in his work boots to insert himself between her and her father.

Guarding her.

Loving her.

Her head jerked away from her father’s hand. “Do you love me, Dad?”

His head moved slightly back and forth as if the question was ridiculous. “Do you really need to ask?”

“No. I know you do in your own way, only it’s not the right way.” With her heart bleeding, she stumbled to her feet sending her chair falling backward. “You love my money more than me and damn it, Dad, there isn’t even all that much of it. Despite everything you’ve just told me, I know in my heart of hearts that you need the cash for another start-up or to pay off a debt collector. I can’t believe I was blind to the signs but then again, you’re a smooth operator.” Her voice rose. “Using Luke against me was the bull’s-eye on my emotional weak spot, only this time you’ve miscalculated.”