“This clumsy oaf is my dad, Paul Drennan,” she teased, patting her father’s arm.
Smiling wryly, Paul nodded a greeting. His hair was a rich auburn with a touch of gray at the temples, but his eyes were the same jade green as his daughter’s.
Cassie turned then to the couple who stood behind her, an attractive woman with impeccably styled golden hair and fashionably tailored clothing and a stocky, balding man with kind brown eyes and a rumpled suit. “This is my mother, Holly Bauer and my stepdad, Larry Bauer. My fiance is running a little late. He’s going to join us as soon as he can.”
“I have some things to do for the wedding we’re hosting this weekend. I’ll leave you in my sister’s capable hands,” Bonnie said, backing toward the bustling dining room. “It was very nice to meet you all.”
Kinley thought Bonnie avoided Paul’s eyes in particular when she turned and hurried away—maybe because she was still embarrassed by the collision.
She motioned toward the conference table behind her. “Why don’t you all take a seat and we’ll get started. May I offer anyone something to drink? Coffee? Water?”
Making an effort to push everything but business out of her thoughts, she segued smoothly into work mode, prepared to make a dynamite presentation of the inn’s wedding services to this eager bride and her family. Yet even as she gave her full attention to her potential clients, thoughts of Dan—and memories of their kisses—hovered at the back of her mind, waiting to pounce on her as soon as she let down her guard.
* * *
The Sossaman family arrived a full hour and a half earlier than necessary for the rehearsal. Obviously it was Eva’s idea to be so early, since the rest of the family looked a bit harried by her nagging. Having just completed her satisfactory meeting with Cassie’s family, Kinley greeted the Sossaman crew as they streamed in through the now-reopened front door of the inn.
Eva’s husband, Clinton, was a stoop-shouldered accountant who’d been beaten down by life’s disappointments and a relentlessly critical wife, or at least that was Kinley’s private assessment of the man. Serena’s brother Connor and his wife, Alicia, were the stereotypical country-club duo, owners of a successful travel agency specializing in Caribbean cruises for senior citizens. They alternated between hovering over their overly indulged son and letting him run wild, assuming another member of the family was keeping an eye on him.
As for Chris Thompson, the groom, Kinley hadn’t yet figured him out. The ruddy-faced, squarely-built young man had said very little on the few occasions she’d met him, insisting that he knew nothing about “wedding stuff.” Ask him about hunting, fishing or Hokies football and he’d have an opinion, he joked, but flowers and frills were out of his area of expertise. Like his mother, Chris seemed to be the make-no-waves type, nodding agreeably when his future mother-in-law spoke, rarely bothering to argue and almost always giving in quickly when he did. Kinley supposed that trait boded well for the future of his marriage.
Serena had requested a casual rehearsal followed by a low-key dinner, but Eva had dressed as if the celebrity press would be covering the event. She swept into the inn barking instructions, scrutinizing every detail of the preparations, blithely rearranging elements Bonnie had spent all day putting into place. Bonnie and Rhoda discreetly went behind her putting a few things back as they’d been, which Eva didn’t even notice. She simply liked to appear to be in charge.
The midweek inn guests had mostly checked out that afternoon, to be replaced by relatives of Serena and Chris who’d come from out of town for the wedding. Eva had been annoyed when Kinley and Bonnie wouldn’t relax the rule about young children for them, but Kinley had stuck to that restriction, personally making arrangements with a nearby motel to set aside a block of rooms for the wedding guests with kids. Children were welcome to attend the rehearsal dinner and the wedding, but the inn simply wasn’t set up to accommodate young overnight visitors.
The weather was cooperating beautifully with the wedding plans, the temperature nicely moderate, the sky clear. This late in May, the days had grown longer, so it was still light at six o’clock, though the shadows had deepened around the edges of the garden. The sun would not yet have set when the rehearsal began at seven. It would be twilight by the time they moved in for dinner, which was scheduled to begin at eight—if Eva didn’t delay the rehearsal by making everyone walk through their parts over and over until she was satisfied.
Though she’d already reviewed the decorations, Kinley studied them again in smug satisfaction when she walked out onto the deck with the Sossaman-Thompson party. For such a grumpy pragmatist, her brother was a genius with outdoor decorations. He followed the instructions given him by wedding planners, florists or other clients, but in such a way that even they were always impressed when he finished. Somehow he’d managed to make even Eva’s over-the-top requests look tasteful and elegant, skillfully weaving tulle and organza and garland and fairy lights into the landscape and around the gazebo. Bow-bedecked white iron candelabras held tall white tapers, and white plaster pedestals would hold the lush arrangements of white calla lilies, lavender roses and freesia for the wedding. The pedestals were topped now with more modest baskets of blooms that would serve as decoration for the rehearsal.
Bonnie flipped a switch and the fairy lights glowed among the lavender-and-white drapings, visible even in the daylight. The wedding party expressed the appropriate oohs and aahs in response.
White folding chairs had been arranged in rows on either side of the pebbled path from the deck to the gazebo. Knots of lavender and white tulle and white silk calla lilies had been attached at the end of each row. The officiate, groom and groomsmen would wait in the gazebo—three steps up from the ground—while the ring bearer, flower girl, bridesmaids and finally the bride and her father proceeded up the path from the deck to join them. The musicians had already set up inside the gazebo behind the altar, with a portable piano and sound equipment for the soloist. Kinley ran through her mental checklist for the umpteenth time as she let her gaze travel slowly over the scene, reassuring herself nothing had been overlooked.
Chris smiled rather shyly at Kinley and Bonnie, who stood side by side assessing their clients’ reactions. “I don’t know anything about wedding stuff, but this looks real nice,” he said. “Doesn’t it, Serena?”
The bride nodded, but Kinley still thought her smile looked strained. “It looks like a fairy tale.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Kinley said warmly.
Eva tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes narrowed in speculation. “Maybe we could just move some of the—”
“Mother!” Serena wailed. “We aren’t changing another thing this late. Period.”
“I can’t imagine wanting to mess with perfection, anyway,” Dan said, having approached the group without drawing notice. He winked quickly at Kinley before turning his full attention to Serena. “You’ve done a fantastic job of choosing your decorations,” he assured her. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding.”
Eva preened. “Yes, it will. I—I mean, Serena and I spent hours planning and discussing and looking through bridal magazines and websites for ideas. I can’t tell you how much work we’ve put into this.”
Biting the inside of her mouth, Kinley turned to welcome the groom’s parents, who had just come outside to join the family admiring the landscaping. She was confirming to them that everything was on track with the caterer for the rehearsal dinner when she was interrupted by a shrill screech from Eva.
“Someone help my grandson! Save him from that beast!”
Chapter Seven
Dan was the first to react after Eva’s near-hysterical scream paralyzed the group at the foot of the stairs. Moving swiftly in the direction she’d pointed with a trembling finger, he approached the boy who sat on a patch of grass just beside and slightly behind the gazebo, his
face being licked by the black-and-brown dog who was growling happily while his stubby tail wagged behind him. It was quite obvious that young Grayson had absolutely no fear of the dog.
Dan slowed as he got closer, holding out a hand and speaking calmly to the dog. “Hey, there, Ninja. How’s it going, buddy?”