The shop owner had been expecting her, confessing that Sammy had called and told her to expect a crazed woman in need of a dress. Zoe had been glad to see her and had dismissed Jo’s apologies for arriving near closing. An hour later, the patient woman, who’d borne all Jo’s indecision and worry with grace, had helped her settle on the green silk. The dress hugged her waist and the hem hit her mid-calf. Feeling at home in the dress and relieved to have found it, she’d barely balked at the five-hundred-dollar price tag.
She blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and wondered again if she should let it hang or tuck it back into the chignon. One call and her mother would have come over and made it perfect in seconds. But the visit could also stir the tension still simmering between them, and Jo did not want to taint this day.
Thinking about her mother and their last conversation, Jo stared in the mirror, studying her features. This time she didn’t pay attention to her makeup or the sweep of her hair. This time she searched for features that matched Cody Granger’s.
Her red hair had been a surprise to all, but her mother had always reminded anyone that commented that Jo’s red hair came from a great-grandmother who’d had hair as red as the rising sun. Jo knew little else about this great-grandmother and often wondered if she’d ever existed. Her mother claimed Jo’s green eyes and the wide curve of her mouth as her own, but her nose and all her other features were only Jo’s. She didn’t share one physical trait with Cody Granger.
Sighing, Jo turned from the mirror, leaving her hair loose as she grabbed her purse. Today was not a day to wallow or whine.
The drive on I-35 toward Lara and Jim’s house took her thirty minutes. She’d volunteered to arrive at the crack of dawn, but Lara had told her not to worry. “The day is not about stressing,” Lara had said. “Arrive with the rest of the guests.”
However, as a bridesmaid, unwritten obligations compelled her to arrive early. Jo knew the best-laid plans always could be tripped up by the smallest detail. And when she pulled up the long, dirt driveway that led to Lara’s adobe-style home, her worst-case-scenario brain was relieved to see the catering truck had arrived, the white tent, tables and chairs had been set up and the band was tuning up. The place was abuzz with the controlled chaos that came before a wedding. Jim stood next to a large smoker grill where a caterer basted a huge pig. Beside Jim sat Lara’s dog, Lincoln, a large wolflike shepherd whom she’d heard was now devoted to Jim.
Jo parked off to the right at the edge of a field and walked into the house where she found Lara standing in the living room, her hair in curlers, dressed in a bathrobe. Around her sat dozens of unopened presents.
“Lara,” Jo said.
Lara glanced up from a photo image and smiled at Jo. “Hey, girl. Boy, do you look superfine.”
A warm blush rose up Jo’s cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Looks like you solved the dress dilemma.”
“Will it work?” Sudden indecision nipped at her. “I know I should have bought it sooner and shown it to you, but life has been kinda crazy.”
An appraising smile warmed Lara’s face. “It’s perfect. Today everyone wears what works for them.”
Jo arched a brow. “Which means Cassidy is wearing black.”
Lara laughed. “She has a flare for the dramatic that I do not.”
Jo laughed. “Never a dull moment with Cassidy. She’s as dramatic as I am understated.”
“That’s why I love you both so much. Now, come help me decide which picture I should frame and display at the reception.”
Jo set her purse aside, shaking her head. “Lara, you’re getting married in an hour, and you are framing a picture.”
“Jim sent me in here and told me to do something productive. He doesn’t like a vegetarian offering her two cents while he does his caveman grilling.”
Jo laughed. “I’d think you’d be fussing over your hair or makeup.”
“Cassidy will be here soon and she can do that.” Lara was an artist who had built a reputation for herself as a wet plate photographer. She created her images using a 150-year-old camera that looked reminiscent of a time long past. Jo owned several of Lara’s pieces and displayed them in her home.
Jo looked at the image. It featured Lara and Jim sitting side by side in chairs on the front porch. The black-and-white coupled with the rich grain told Jo she’d used the bellows camera. “Did you take this?”
“I set it all up and asked Cassidy to remove the lens cap and count to thirty before she replaced it. I hopped up and quickly processed the glass plate.”
“How many times was Jim willing to sit for his picture?”
She chuckled as she held the print up to the light and studied it. “He told me I had him for three images and he was done. The one I liked best was the second shot.”
If Jo had looked at only Jim, she would have sworn the image had been taken a hundred years ago. Like Brody he looked as if he’d been plucked out of the old west wearing his white Stetson, lariat tie, jeans and scuffed boots. Brody and Jim’s similar attire coupled with their square jaws and stiff gazes, made both throwbacks.
What anchored this picture in the present was Lara who wore jeans, a white button-down shirt and no shoes. Her long, blond hair highlighted the high slash of her cheekbones and the vivid paleness of her blue eyes.
The look of love in Lara’s eyes struck a chord deep in Jo. That kind of passion, which had eluded her so far, was rare indeed. “This is really good, Lara. Really a work of art.”
Lara inspected the image. “I know it’s not the traditional wedding portrait, but I’m not so traditional. My main worry now is that I should have edged in this corner a little more. Maybe if I slip back into the darkroom.”
Jo laughed. “The picture is perfect. Stop second-guessing. By the way, have you looked at a clock lately? You have fifty-nine minutes before the wedding.”
Lara frowned as she stared at the photograph’s corner. “I can always fuss with it later.”
“Why don’t you put it in that frame, finish the job and stop worrying?”
Lara took one last look at the portrait and laid it face-down in the glass. “I can get a little crazy when it comes to my pictures.”
“Which is what makes you such a successful artist. Don’t worry so much today. Enjoy.”
Lara laid the mat over the picture. “I think I’m nervous.”
“What are you nervous about?”
Lara laughed. “That sounds very shrinklike.”
Jo shrugged. “Hazard of the trade.” She cleared her throat. “What are you nervous about, Lara?”
Lara chuckled as she clamped down the frame fasteners. “Commitment. I can be a Ranger’s lover. But to take one on for life . . .”
“You and Jim have done pretty well.”
“Oh yeah, we’re great. But I worry that I might not be as cool about the dangers of his work once I hang ‘wife’ around my neck.”
Wife. Some said marriage was just a piece of paper and that it didn’t change anything, but it changed everything.
Lara continued. “People say marriage is no big deal but it is to me. My mom married four times and each new husband was worse than the last. I swore I’d never marry but now that I am I want it to last forever.”
“Marriage is work.”
She frowned. “Yeah, but what exactly does that mean?”
Car doors closing had Jo glancing out the window in time to see Brody get out of his Bronco. He moved with steady, determined strides to Jim and shook his hand. “Sometimes I think it means staying and accepting the other person when all you want to do is run. Giving the storm time to pass, knowing smooth waters are ahead.”
“That sounds a little bit like experience talking.”
Jo turned from the window and found Lara staring at her. “Not many people know this, but I was married once.”
“Really?”
She fiddled with the strand of pearls around her neck. “We shouldn’t have ever married. We knew we
wouldn’t last.”
Lara didn’t prompt Jo for more information but waited silently.
“I got pregnant when I was eighteen. He married me for the baby’s sake. But I lost the baby. And when the baby went away, the reason to stay married went with her.”
Lara moved from the picture and took Jo’s hands in hers. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Jo swallowed unshed tears. Fourteen years of ignoring the marriage and pregnancy had caught up to her in one crashing thud. “Thanks. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean this to turn into a session about me.”
Lara hugged Jo with a warmth that somehow eased the lingering loneliness that had stalked her since she’d woken up this morning. “I think that is the first time you’ve opened up to me.”
Jo had maintained such a tight rein over her emotions since she’d lost the baby that she’d not realized her need for control was so isolating.
She pulled away and smiled. “You need to get ready for the wedding.”
Lara touched a curler. “Cassidy said she’d be here any minute.”
“I can do your hair. You may not know it from my spartan hairstyles, but I grew up in a beauty salon.”
“Did you?”
“I could roll a perm when I was eleven, and Mom had me doing her highlights by the time I was fifteen. I can promise you, brushing out curls is a piece of cake.”
Lara grinned. “Have at it, sister.”