Tying the Knot (2 page)

Beatrice gaped at her. “Miss Sissy?”

“Yes. She's Wyatt's and my godmother.” A pause. “Don't tell me—Wyatt didn't mention that to you, either?”

Beatrice reflected on Wyatt's patience with the old woman, his continuing visits, and courteous kindness toward her. She should have guessed, she supposed, but he was like that with his entire church congregation.

Wyatt said, “You know, I think I heard a timer go off in the kitchen.” He winked at Beatrice and moved quickly toward the door. “Why don't y'all move into the dining room?”

Beatrice decided to help him out by changing the subject. “How do you want to incorporate quilting into your big day?” she asked, as they obediently filed into the dining room and sat around a weathered pine table on farmhouse-style benches. The room was small but warm, with a rug in bright reds and blues under the table, bright lighting, and cheerful yellow paint on the walls.

Harper said, “Oh, I was thinking about several different things. And, Beatrice, you don't know how excited I was to learn that you've become a quilter
yourself. I'm so hoping that we'll be able to spend time together, working on projects or showing our quilts at a few local shows. As far as the wedding goes, I'd love our guests to sign quilt blocks that I can sew into a wedding quilt. And Miss Sissy said she was working on a double wedding-ring quilt for us as a gift. I'll be sure to display that somewhere prominently at the reception. And I've got a great idea for putting quilt blocks on the sides of the food and beverage tables. I meant to tell you that Posy said the Village Quilters and I could take over the Patchwork Cottage back room tomorrow to discuss the plans for integrating quilting into the wedding. Will that work for you?”

“Sounds like the perfect plan.”

Wyatt walked into the tiny dining room that adjoined the living room and carefully laid down a dish of baked salmon. “All right, I think we're ready,” he said, hurrying back into the kitchen for the rest of the supper, which consisted of roasted vegetables, wild rice, and fruit.

Harper blinked at her plate in wonder. “Wyatt, this is a feast! I'm positively amazed. I'd no idea you could cook this well, or I'd have been over for supper way before now. Marian's fabulous cooking must have rubbed off on you.” She flushed and put a hand up to her mouth. “Sorry,” she muttered, looking irritated with herself.

Beatrice remembered that Marian was Wyatt's late wife. She gave Harper a bright and reassuring smile, but inside her heart sank. She didn't exactly excel in the culinary arts.

“You're right,” Wyatt said mildly. “Marian was a great cook. She'd have been proud of me tonight. And
surprised. I never displayed any culinary talent during our marriage.” He smoothly moved on to another topic. “How are things going for the ceremony itself? In my experience, getting the wedding party organized can be one of the toughest things.”

Harper and Daniel exchanged glances. Daniel said, “We've put it together fairly quickly, although it's been a bit harder than we thought. We wanted to keep it small and intimate—and that meant an intimate wedding party, too.” Daniel added quickly, “Wyatt, if you weren't officiating, I hope you know you'd be best man. As Harper's brother . . .”

Wyatt's eyes twinkled. “I've no doubt that's the case, Daniel. And I'd be honored to step in. But you're right: it would be tricky to take both parts.”

Harper hesitated. Then she said, “There is one thing that's been on my mind that I wanted to bring up. Wyatt, I know you see and counsel many people in your line of work, and I hoped you might be able to offer your opinion on something. I'm afraid that Trevor has been acting out of character.” She gave Daniel something of an apologetic look.

Wyatt frowned. “Trevor. He's your best man, isn't he?”

Daniel said, “That's right. Trevor Garber is an old friend. We grew up together here before I left Dappled Hills. We kept up pretty well through the years, and then picked up where we left off when I returned to town. He's always been a fairly upright guy—an anesthesiologist, a good husband to Eleanor, a friend who was always ready to listen. But lately?” He glanced over at Harper to help him fill in.

Harper cleared her throat and said diplomatically, “He's been unpredictable.”

“That's right. Unpredictable.” Daniel nodded. “He's been acting really erratically—seems to be drinking a lot; speaks without thinking. It's almost as if he's a different person.”

Wyatt said slowly, “I haven't seen a problem to that extent, but I've seen dramatic personality changes before. They were almost always caused by drug use of some kind.”

Daniel considered this for a moment and then shook his head. “I can't see it. I think he's definitely drinking too much, but I just can't see drug use. After all, he's a doctor.”

“Did anything happen in his life to trigger this?” asked Wyatt. “Some sort of personal tragedy that perhaps he needs to seek counseling for?”

Daniel said, “Nothing that I know about. He hasn't lost a close friend or family member. He still has a job . . . Although if he keeps going at the rate he is, I have to wonder if that's going to continue.”

“But there's something,” said Harper, looking at Daniel. “Remember? You said there was something that Trevor said.”

“He has a secret. Something he's not telling me. I don't know what it is that he's trying to keep under wraps, because he shuts me down whenever I try asking about it. I have to wonder if it's his secret that's causing him to act this way.” Daniel looked down at his plate.

Beatrice said, “So, you're wondering, obviously, if you can trust him to be part of your ceremony.”

Harper sighed. “That's right. What if he shows up intoxicated to the church? What if he makes a big scene at the reception?”

“But, at the same time, he's our best man. I asked him months ago . . . before he started acting so oddly. Remember how proud and excited Trevor was to be part of our wedding?” Daniel asked sadly. “I'm not sure I can take that away from him . . . Not without just cause.”

Wyatt said, “Maybe it would be a good idea to talk with Trevor about it. Tell him you're concerned about him. Ask him again what's happened to make him start showing this behavior.”

“And think of a good replacement for best man,” added Beatrice grimly, “just in case.”

The Patchwork Cottage back room is like a war room, mused Beatrice. Except the generals were the Village Quilters. In attendance were Miss Sissy, Meadow, Posy, June Bug, and sisters Savannah and Georgia. Posy's and Harper's friend Lyla, who was also in the wedding, was the only non–Village Quilter there besides Harper. “Does everyone know Lyla Wales?” asked Posy. “She's not only a dear friend of mine, but she's helping me introduce quilting to a younger generation. Lyla is giving the quilting workshop that will be held soon after the wedding.” Posy looked as if she were about to bubble over with excitement. “And maybe we'll even have a quilting booth at the spring festival!”

Lyla was an attractive middle-aged woman with a sleek bob of brown hair and an athletic build. She gave a jaunty wave. “Hi, everyone!”

Miss Sissy gave Lyla a rather rheumy glare. “Foolishness!”

Clearly, Miss Sissy was having one of her bad days. Her wiry gray hair was falling out of her bun, and her checkered dress was nearly as wrinkled as she was.

Everyone decided to ignore Miss Sissy's little outburst. They were used to her temper, and it was definitely worth putting up with her hostility to get her input. After all, she'd been quilting for seventy years; she knew more about the craft than anyone else at the table.

Harper beamed at everyone. “Thanks so much for coming today and for being part of Daniel's and my special day. It means a lot to us—especially having the Village Quilters help out, since Mother was a member of the guild long ago. I wanted to talk about how I wanted to incorporate quilting into the wedding. And if y'all have any ideas, I'd love to hear them.”

“Boutonnieres!” barked Miss Sissy.

“Yes, and we're really looking forward to those,” said Harper to her godmother. Seeing that everyone looked confused, Harper explained, “Miss Sissy is going to make wool boutonnieres for the groomsmen.”

Beatrice couldn't quite picture it, but she knew that everything Miss Sissy created was amazing.

“And June Bug is in charge of our marvelous cake,” said Harper with a grin at the little woman who was regarding them all very seriously with her large, buglike eyes. June Bug bobbed her head in shy agreement.

Meadow's stomach announced that she hadn't had breakfast that morning. “How are you incorporating quilting into the cake, June Bug?”

June Bug smiled at her. “It's going to be squares of sheet cake that look like quilt squares.”

“It's going to be so pretty that we'll all hate to eat it,” said Harper with a laugh.

Meadow shook her head. “I doubt it. It sounds exactly like the kind of cake that I would eat with gusto.”

Miss Sissy suddenly lurched to her feet. “Intruder!” she hissed, waving an arthritic fist at the door leading into the shop.

They swung around to see a man with a flushed face and a slight receding hairline peering in through the wooden door of the storeroom. “Can I help you?” asked Posy uncertainly.

Lyla's cheeks were darkly flushed. “Excuse me one minute, please. I'll be right back.”

The quilters could hear Lyla's voice whispering angrily to the man in the store. He didn't seem inclined to whisper back. They heard him clearly say, “But I want to see you! When can we talk?”

Lyla furiously whispered back, “Not now. Not ever! Why are you pestering me like this? Leave me alone!”

The quilters looked at each other, startled. Harper leaned over and murmured to Beatrice, “That's Trevor with Lyla . . . the best man that I've been worrying about.” Her eyes were clouded with concern, and her voice was tight.

The other quilters were clearly uncomfortable by the whisper. Harper said, “Savannah, tell me about that cute kitty of yours.”

Savannah, holding herself stiffly in her starched, high-collared floral dress, relaxed a little. “Smoke? He's wonderful. Let me tell you what he did yesterday—you won't believe it! He's smart enough to know when it's suppertime, but I was busy working on this very
tricky section of my ‘Tumbling Blocks' quilt, so I was holding off. So he jumped on the coffee table and started pushing off papers and magazines one by one to get my attention. Isn't that amazing?” Savannah positively glowed.

Beatrice said in an undertone to Savannah's sister, Georgia, “It sounds like Savannah is still just as much in love with little Smoke as the day she got him. And hopefully that means she's still giving you more space?” The two sisters were roommates.

Georgia nodded. “It's wonderful. Savannah is happy and distracted and learning about being a pet owner. And I don't feel as if she's is right on top of me—trying to organize my cluttered room, or making plans for the two of us to do things without checking with me first. I'm so glad you introduced Smoke to Savannah. It was love at first sight for both of them, I think.”

Meadow homed in on their conversation while the others shared their own pet stories. “What do y'all think
that
was all about?” she asked, nodding her head toward the door until her gray braid swung out over her shoulder. “Do you know who Lyla was talking to?”

Beatrice said in a quiet voice, “Harper said it was Trevor Garber.”

“Did I miss something about Lyla and Trevor? I thought they were both happily married. To other people,” said Meadow.

Georgia said sadly, “I did hear Trevor and his wife, Eleanor, squabbling one day recently when I was in the grocery store. I never know what to do when I come across a scene like that. I just fled. And I really needed that box of cereal, too, but they kept standing in that
aisle, until I started worrying that my ice cream was going to melt all over the store.”

Meadow said, “Did you hear what they were arguing about?”

Beatrice frowned at Meadow. “Gossiping?”

“Well, I'm one of the people helping to make this wedding a successful event,” said Meadow, drawing herself up proudly. “I need to know if there are factors at play that might create a big problem during the wedding.”

Georgia looked thoughtful. “I didn't really hear what they were arguing about, no. I did hear Lyla's name mentioned, though.”

Meadow and Beatrice looked at each other. But they didn't comment further because Lyla quickly came back into the room. “Sorry about that,” she said. Her face was flushed and her voice sounded gruff, as if she were trying to hold back some sort of strong emotion.

Harper quickly resumed the information session with more details about the types of quilting elements she wanted to include at the wedding reception. She needed quilt squares tilted like triangles to hang from the food tables at the reception. Harper also needed a special quilt, stationed near the guest book, for all of her wedding guests to sign. And she was hoping for quilts to be used for decoration at the reception. The quilters offered up their own ideas, too.

When they were done with planning, they all stayed to chat for a few minutes. Savannah and Georgia joined Posy and Beatrice to talk about the wedding. Beatrice peered surreptitiously over at Lyla, who appeared to be back to normal and was visiting with some of the other ladies.

Savannah said, “I haven't seen a wedding for so long. I'm looking forward to this one.”

Georgia smiled. “I know. There's just something about weddings. They're full of hope, aren't they?”

Posy said, “They surely are, Georgia. And this one is going to be lovely. I'm so thrilled that the quilts are going to be part of the ceremony and reception. Harper's mother would be so pleased if she knew. The guild meant so much to her.”

Beatrice thought that Georgia looked wistful, as happy as she was for Harper and Daniel. Her own marriage hadn't been a very happy one and had ended in divorce. Although she'd enjoyed living with her sister—at least to a point—it wasn't quite the same.

The women gradually moved to the front door of the Patchwork Cottage, with Posy staying behind to lock up for the evening. As they left, Tony Brock, who worked at the hardware store next door, greeted them. Beatrice thought again how much she liked this nice young man, with his gentle smile and always-neat jeans and T-shirt. She especially liked that he gave a special greeting to Miss Sissy, who preened under his attention. Tony helped Miss Sissy around her house, ran errands for her, and even drove her around town—the few times he could persuade her not to terrorize the town in her ancient Lincoln.

After greeting all the ladies, Tony flushed and said, “Georgia, could I speak with you a minute?”

Georgia blinked with surprise and unconsciously put a hand to her hair, which was loose and flowing today, to smooth it.

The quilters continued walking toward the parking
lot. “What does he want with Georgia?” asked Savannah crossly. “I'm ready to head home.”

Beatrice thought the young man's flush and Georgia's response might mean that there was a hint of romance on the horizon. But knowing how protective Savannah could be of her sister, Beatrice asked mildly, “Did y'all drive here? Or bike?” Savannah and Georgia biked nearly everywhere in Dappled Hills. Beatrice was never quite sure how Savannah managed it in her long skirts.

“We biked,” said Savannah, gesturing across the parking lot to the bike rack, where two bikes with white baskets were parked.

“You could head on home if you wanted. I can wait for Georgia and let her know that you left ahead of her.”

They heard the sound of footsteps behind them and turned to see a rosy-cheeked but smiling Georgia swiftly catching up with them. “Sorry, Savannah . . . I know you were ready to leave. But Tony just . . . well, he asked me out on a date!”

Beatrice said, “Georgia, that's wonderful! I was thinking what a nice young man he is. I hope you have a good time on your date.” She glanced over apprehensively to see what Savannah's reaction might be.

But Savannah was much more relaxed about Georgia's news than she could have imagined. She did look confused for a moment at the announcement, but then quickly asked, “You're going to supper?”

Georgia nodded, also looking worried about Savannah feeling left out.

Savannah said briskly, “Okay. Be sure to let me
know what night that will be so I won't cook for both of us. Can we head home now? I'm sure Smoke is wondering where his lunch is.”

Beatrice winked at Georgia, and she winked back. The little cat was working out even better as a distraction for Savannah than they'd hoped.

*   *   *

It was about a week later when Wyatt called Beatrice to invite her out to dinner. “I thought we could meet up with Harper and Daniel, too, if you don't mind. They've been so busy with wedding plans that I haven't seen them at all since we had supper at my house.”

Beatrice was proud that she managed not to remind Wyatt that she hadn't seen much of him since that night, either. There had been a busy week of events at Dappled Hills Presbyterian—from a consignment sale to benefit the church preschool program to a book-donation drive for a local elementary school and a middle-school car wash that the youth put on to fund a beach retreat. These were all good activities—important activities. But it meant that she hadn't seen Wyatt apart from her volunteering at the consignment sale. And although she was pleased with herself for not harping on his busy schedule, and she certainly didn't feel as if she needed constant companionship, there was a part of her that deeply missed spending time with Wyatt.

Beatrice said lightly, “That sounds like a great idea. And then maybe you and I can spend some time alone together, too. Maybe a walk on Thursday at lunch? The weather is supposed to be beautiful then.”

Wyatt sounded abashed. “You're right: we haven't really been able to see each other, either. I'm so sorry.
I'm hoping that things will ease up right after the wedding.”

“I miss seeing you—that's all. I understand your huge commitment to the church and your congregation. It's not a regular job. When I was curator at the art museum, I left work and I went home, and that was it. I worked some odd hours because of the museum hours, but basically when I was at home, I wasn't working. But you never know when you might need to be called away.” If Beatrice was being completely honest, this was the part that rankled the most. It was somehow tougher to have planned something fun and then abruptly have it canceled than not seeing Wyatt at all.

“I think the fact that it's such a small town and a small church and that I'm the only pastor makes a difference,” said Wyatt. “In a larger church, there might be several ministers to divide duties among. Here I'm the only one.”

“And you're doing a wonderful job handling all those responsibilities,” said Beatrice. “I'm just wanting to keep you all to myself. Or maybe
more
to myself.”

“Not at all,” said Wyatt staunchly. “And I'll try to work out some ways for me to delegate more to elders and deacons or church volunteers, and make some more time for us. For picnics. I do enjoy going on picnics,” he said wistfully.

*   *   *

Although Beatrice would have preferred a quiet dinner with Wyatt, she had to admit that she did enjoy Harper's and Daniel's company that night. She gave an appreciative sniff of the air as they walked into the Italian
restaurant. There were red tablecloths with bright white napkins on every table, and each table had a wrought-iron lantern with a lit candle inside. Daniel regaled them in his dry voice with tales from years practicing law, and had them all in stitches. Then Beatrice curiously asked Wyatt and Harper what it was like having Miss Sissy as a godmother.

Wyatt smiled at her, eyes twinkling. “Well, you know, she wasn't always like she is now.”

Harper said with a laugh, “She was great, actually. Spry. Childlike. We made her play hide-and-seek with us when we'd play over at her house.”

“Miss Sissy was tough to find, too,” said Wyatt in a reminiscent voice. “Remember that one time, Harper?”