The Holiday Bride (8 page)

“Oh, I wouldn’t go blessing him just yet,” William said
flatly. “I think you should know the boy built a… very explicit ad, urging the
man who knows you to come and take you home.”

“Explicit how?”

William swallowed hard. “You were scantily clad in items
that looked like they came from some of those boxes. He used some sort of
photography program.”

“Oh!” she cried, her cheeks coloring.

He leveled her an apologetic look. “Justin will be punished
for it.”

“Oh, no. I don’t think you should… I mean, just look at the
results!”

“Yes well,” he agreed, following her gaze out the window.
“One could certainly claim the ad was successful.”

She dropped the curtain and turned to face him, an
unexpected melancholy taking hold. “I suppose this means I’ll soon be out of
your way.” If it was possible, he appeared even more handsome than he had the
day before, small flecks of gold warming his light brown eyes. “You must be
relieved.”

“No,” he said stepping forward. He paused and seemed to
collect himself. “What I mean is, Carmella will really miss you.”

Lucy’s heart warmed at the mention of the little girl. She
was so sweet and trusting, and had cared for Lucy immediately in that hopeful
childlike way. Lucy would have to be made out of stone not to start feeling
some emotion for the child as well.

“She’s a very special little girl,” she said.

“Yes.” He studied her a prolonged beat. “Bridget, I have
something to tell you. I heard you earlier, singing to Carmella upstairs.”

Lucy felt her cheeks flame and dropped her chin. “Oh. I’m
afraid my voice is—”

“I thought it sounded heavenly,” he said.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. What was it about him
that sent her heart all out of kilter? “Well, I don’t know when... Can’t
exactly recall singing before.”

“And still you felt at home?”

“Yes.”

William stared down into Bridget’s big blue eyes. If he
weren’t careful, he feared he’d tumble right inside them and get lost swimming
there forever.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Anything,” he said, his voice gone husky.

She tilted up her chin and he had that overwhelming sensation
again that he needed to kiss her. Kiss her like he was damn sure he could do,
and do right.

“Did you always know you wanted to have kids?”

“For as long as I remember,” he answered.

“Yeah, me too,” she said. “Just somehow I never thought I’d
really have them.”

“You? Why not? Dr. Mass says you’re as healthy as they come.
Apart from that little, you know.” He playfully tapped his forehead and smiled.

“It’s just something I can’t remember,” she said, shaking
her head. “Silly, probably.”

“Well, somebody’s going to be awfully lucky to have you as a
mother... someday. When the timing is right.”

She looked at him and grinned. “And Justin and Carmella are
very lucky to have you.”

Something pounded on the front door as a man’s voice
shouted. “Say! Can we get this show on the road!”

“Yeah, and look how lucky I am to have Justin,” William said
with a wry twist to his lips.

“Do I really have to meet with
all
of them?” she asked, clearly overwhelmed.
 
How he wished he could rescue her from
this, but he didn’t really see a way. If Bridget were his fiancé and missing,
he’d be crazy with worry, no doubt. He didn’t think he’d don a suit of armor,
but that wouldn’t dampen his urge to up and carry her away. William swallowed
hard, realizing he was the one getting carried away. Totally swept up in some
alternate reality where Bridget could actually be his. But she wasn’t, and as
the man in charge, it was his duty to look after her. Even if that meant
helping her find the man she was destined to be with forever.

“I suppose you ought to look at them, at least. I mean, how
else are you going to know?” he said.

She frowned and glanced at the door. “Oh William. It’s just
so much. There must be two hundred men out there!”

Maybe more, he thought, thinking he spied a small figure through
the sheer curtain covering the window. That couldn’t be Justin outdoors?
Positioned at a table by the gate? “Well, we don’t have to do it all in one
day,” he said, his attention back on Bridget, who was now standing in the
threshold. “We can have some of them come back again tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Do you mean it?” she asked with a hopeful gaze.

“Why sure, or the day after that.”
That’s right, just
keep talking, William. Why not go on and admit you’d prefer that none of them
return until well into the New Year?

She blushed sweetly, fine wisps of honey-colored hair
framing her face. “But I’ve already taken up so much of your time. Been so much
of an imposition.”

He moved forward without thinking and took her by the
elbows. “Oh no, you haven’t.”

His eyes locked on hers, then simultaneously they both
looked up to see they were standing below the mistletoe. Bridget stared down at
her hand, her diamond glinting in the early light. William released her and abruptly
stepped back.

Bridget anxiously twisted her engagement ring. “You’re
right. I’ll need to look at all of them.”

“Yes. I suppose you should.”

William tugged on his parka as he walked through the
kitchen. “Has anybody seen Justin?”

Emma turned from the stove as Grant buried his face in the
paper. “I think he went outside, dear.”

“Out in
that
?”
William asked peering through the back door window. Just as he’d predicted, the
backyard was also flooded with interested suitors. But the figure he’d spotted
and thought was his son was around front. “What on earth is he doing?”

“I’m not sure,” Emma said, absentmindedly flipping a
flapjack.

“He said he was selling lemonade!” Carmella proclaimed
between mouthfuls.

“Lemonade?” William queried. “But it’s December!”

From behind his splayed paper, Grant just shrugged.

William pressed his hand atop the sports page, lowering it
to face his father. “Dad? Do you know something about this?”

Grant coughed lightly. “I don’t see what’s so wrong with a
little ingenuity.”

William twisted his lips in thought, deciding something
didn’t add up. And wherever the math had gone faulty, his dad was sure to be
involved. He generally was. “I think you should come with me,” he told his
father.

“But it’s snowing out there!”

“Don’t be such a big baby,” Emma scolded from the stove.
“Pull on your parka!”

William cut his way through the crowd, Grant reluctantly
trailing along. “Excuse us! Coming through!” William called as two reporters
and several men sprang at him.
“I said,
no comment,
”
he told the
persistent news angler.

When they got to the gate, William could scarcely believe
his eyes. There sat Justin, all decked out in his leather jacket and shades,
holding court at a folding table he must have dragged out of the garage. A
poster stuck to the fence behind him boldly stated, “Pay to Play: 10 Bucks!”
There was a coffee can at his elbow stuffed with cash, and William watched as a
beleaguered groom inched up to the table and dug a hand in his pocket.

“Got change?” he asked, holding out a twenty.

Justin lowered his shades and solemnly shook his head.

“Didn’t think so,” the man grumbled shoving his bill in the
can.

“Hey! Wait!” William called, snatching the cash out of the
can and handing it back to him. “There’s no charge here.”

He turned his gaze on Justin, who slunk down in his chair and
cast a panicked look at Grant over the rim of his glasses.

“You, young man,” William said with a shake of his finger,
“are in
deep
.”

“Really, son,” Grant added. “What were you thinking?”

“But Grandpa!” Justin gasped. “Charging an admission fee was
your idea!”

William huffed and turned toward his father. “Both of you,
in the house, please
.
Now.
”

****

Chapter Seven

A few hours later, Lucy yawned on the sofa. They’d been at
it all day, only breaking briefly for lunch, which Emma was kind enough to make.
One by one, William had escorted each man in the house and asked for his
credentials. After he’d supplied reasonable identification, the guy was asked
to remove his hat, helmet—or whatever—and take a seat. All of the
Kinkaids partook in the questioning, even little Carmella seated beside Lucy.
William was on her other side, protectively close.

By now, Lucy had lost track of the assorted construction
workers, farmers, and sportsmen with implements in tow, which William had very
wisely insisted they leave on the porch. But it was the undertaker who gave her
pause, pasty pale in his approach, assuring her that their place was nice and
quiet, dark and cool, too. Chill bumps raced down her spine saying, for sure,
he wasn’t the one. Neither was the pilot asking her to
come fly with me
,
the sheik in a turban, or the knight with a proclaimed penchant for the
chastity belt!

Finally, here before her sat a reasonable looking person, a
mid-thirties naval officer who was really quite handsome, his blue eyes
complemented by his uniform.

“I’ve spent six long months at sea,” he said sincerely,
“thinking of nothing but you.”

Lucy sighed, almost daring to believe it. He seemed decent
enough, fine and upstanding. Broadly built across the shoulders, too. She
caught William watching her careful perusal of his chest and coughed.

“Where did you say we lived again?” she asked, taking a sip
of water Emma had placed on the coffee table for her earlier. All this talking
had left her parched. Maybe, here at last, she’d come to her oasis. She looked
the officer in the eye and he shared a winning smile.

“In the prettiest little house, with a white picket fence.”

“Oh,” she said, charmed. “That sounds lovely.”

William stroked his chin and glanced at the guy. “White
picket fences are a pain, you know,” he told Lucy.

Grant leaned forward in his wing chair. “It’s true. Have to
paint them every year.”

“No worries about the little lady lifting a finger,” the
officer said. “She can leave all the manly work to me.”

William shifted uncomfortably as Grant watched his son. Emma
surveyed them both before jumping in. “So what about ID?”

The officer turned toward her, confused. “My military
credentials? I already showed those.”

Grant nodded approvingly at his wife. “Not those. We’re
talking something more personal.”

“Personal?” the man asked.

“You bet,” William said.

“Something to prove you’re the real McCoy.”

“Proof! Yeah, we want proof!” Carmella butted in.

Justin sat nearby watching the show with interest, but
didn’t say a word. Lucy glanced at him and then at the others.

“Proof’s not a bad idea,” she said, guessing what the
Kinkaids had in mind. She studied her engagement ring a moment and looked the
officer in the eye.

“Well now, I was out at sea,” he faltered, “I’m not sure how
much you think I—”

“You would certainly know your nickname?”

“Nickname?”

“Sure, you know,” Lucy said brightly. “Something I might
have called you. Something…” She flushed a little inspite of herself. “…intimate
between the two of us. A pet name?”

He stared at her, dumbfounded, then searched all of their
faces. “Fido?”

William closed the door a few seconds later as Emma spoke.
“And to think, it looked like we were getting close there for a minute.”

“Harrumph,” Grant said, shaking his head. “All a bunch of
nut jobs.”

“I’m afraid you’re right, Dad,” William agreed.

Lucy sighed, exhausted. At this rate, they’d never find her
true home.

William regarded her sympathetically. “How about we take a
break? You look as if you’re done for the day, and you still should rest after
that whack on the head.”

“That would be terrific,” she said, feeling her tension
ease. Who knew it could be so hard trying to find the man you were in love
with? “But what do we tell the others outside?”

“Don’t worry,” William said, “I’ll take care of it.”

William stepped out on the porch as Emma and William took
Carmella into the kitchen for a snack. Justin lingered behind, eyeing Lucy.

“You’ve really got them lined up around the block,” he said.

“Thanks to your Web page,” she said, attempting to be
pleasant.

“Naw. I’d said it’s thanks to whatever it is Dad’s been
staring at.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean. He’s been looking at you all
goo-goo-eyed ever since you got here.”

“Your dad’s just trying to help.”

“Yeah, and so are you. Help yourself to this family,” he
said with a bitter edge.

“Justin, that’s not really fair. Nobody wants to know who I
am any more than I do, believe me.”

“Meanwhile, you’ve got it awfully cushy not knowing, don’t
ya? Cushy enough to worm your way into my dad’s heart.”

Lucy’s face warmed. “I... You don’t know that’s true.
Besides, my stay here is only temporary. Very soon I’ll have my old life back
and be out of your way. But Justin, in the meantime...” She studied him
sincerely. “I’d sure like it if you and I could make some sort of peace.”

“You mean like, if I’m not nice to you, you’ll tell?”

Her shoulders sagged as she hurt for him. She knew the boy
was having a rough time, but she honestly wasn’t here to make things any
tougher. “I’m not saying that it’s mandatory.”

“Man-da-who?”

“Nothing’s mandatory, Justin. I’m not forcing you to do
anything, because I know that I can’t. You’re practically a man now. Old enough
to make your own decisions.”