The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek (32 page)

Then the reality of their presence hit him: His parents had come for his wedding. This was going to happen.

Miss Birdie shifted her arm in an effort to find a comfortable position. She’d stopped wearing the sling a few days earlier and would start back to work in a month when Bree had to get ready for school. Hated to admit it but she’d enjoyed being off, really loved being taken care of.

Now, on the eve of the wedding, Birdie stood in the church kitchen with Mercedes, Winnie, and Blossom as they made final preparations for the rehearsal dinner.

“Ladies, this is the proudest moment of my matchmaking life,” she said.

All the Widows wore expressions of smug pride and confidence. They had succeeded. The skinny, awkward—both socially and physically—minister they’d welcomed to Butternut Creek two years before, the young man they’d matched with numerous women until they found Gussie, the perfect match—well, that young man was getting married. They stood here together, successful matchmakers and wedding planners looking forward to tomorrow, to the culmination of their efforts.

“Blossom, you’ve done a wonderful job with decorations,” Mercedes said.

“Yes, you have,” Birdie agreed.

Peach tablecloths from Blossom’s enormous collection of linens covered the tables, each with a circle of white lace in the middle. Peach-colored candles cast a soft glow from inside hurricane lamps, and white china—also from Blossom’s collection—sat at each place.

Gussie’s parents had insisted on catering the dinner. “Don’t want to wear the church ladies out,” Yvonne had said immediately after the date was chosen. “Not when you’re in charge of the reception.”

The caterers had placed chafing dishes and warming pans on the counter between the kitchen and the fellowship hall. Three servers stood behind the counter with serving spoons.

The Widows had nothing left to do except eat and gloat.

At a little before six, the guests began to arrive. First came Sam and Willow, one of the matchmakers’ most spectacular successes.

“They left the baby with the Kowalskis,” Winnie said.

Then Gabe and Hector entered with Gussie’s friend Clare and her husband followed by Mattie—Reverend Patillo. Finally, the group from the parsonage appeared. Everyone looked happy and excited. Well, except for Hannah. Her hair looked nice and the slacks and shirt complemented her dark prettiness, but she looked tired. Birdie couldn’t quite read her expression. Certainly she couldn’t be sad the eve of her brother’s wedding, could she?

As she watched, Birdie saw Hannah looking around until her gaze fell on Gabe. Then Gabe looked at her. A crackle of electricity passed between them, then each looked away quickly and ignored the other in the most obvious way.

Birdie blinked. How had she—as chief matchmaker—missed that? Gabe and the preacher’s sister were in love. Must have happened in San Pablo, and clearly things weren’t going well between them now. What should she do? She was fairly busy this weekend but could set aside a moment or two for matchmaking.

Then she grinned. When the two finally worked things out—and she assumed they would, because the heat in that glance promised a future—the Widows could and would take credit. Even though at the time they’d thought their matchmaking efforts had been not only a failure but an embarrassment, they
had
been the first to shove these two together.

She punched Mercedes with her elbow. “Did you see that?”

Adam had rounded up the entire family to walk over to the rehearsal dinner because, right now, he couldn’t take on the Widows by himself, bless their hearts. This close to getting their minister married, they were so insufferably full of themselves that everyone in town ran off whenever they saw any of the ladies.

He took Gussie’s hand. In front of them walked the Miltons and his parents. He’d decided they could run interference. Then he glanced at Hannah. Janey, who seemed to have the magic touch with his bristly sister, had forced her to curl her hair and had chosen a sparkly red shirt for her to wear with tailored slacks and a pair of gold sandals Janey had purchased for her at the Dollar Tree. Janey held her hand and pulled her along.

Despite looking terrific in her outfit and with the circles under her eyes concealed by makeup Gussie had forced on her, Hannah looked terrified.

Served her right.

“Isn’t this beautiful,” Gussie said as she entered the fellowship hall.

But Adam didn’t answer because Hannah had grabbed his arm and pointed toward Gabe’s truck. “What should I do?” she whispered.

Adam patted her hand. “As you often tell me, you’re a grown-up. Take control of your life.”

Oh, sure. As if taking control of her life in an area so far outside her experience would be easy. Attracting men and apologizing or admitting error had never counted as her strong points. In fact, if she were a gymnast and if relationships were the balance beam, she’d receive a minus score on that apparatus after having spent most of her time falling off.

Then she saw him, gorgeous in a crisp white shirt that stretched over broad shoulders. Of course, everything Gabe wore stretched over broad shoulders. Not unexpectedly, the sight of him made her breathless, which showed how stupidly she behaved around him.

For a moment, their eyes caught, and emotion stretched out between them like a lit fuse. She looked at her sandals.

Coward.

From the corner of her eye she could tell he’d started toward them. Well, of course. He had to greet the bridal couple and their families.

“Gussie.” He nodded toward her nearly sister-in-law. “Yvonne”—he took her hand and kissed her cheek—“nice to see you.” He gave Janey a hug, waved at Adam and Hector, and shook her parents’ hands before he turned toward her. In the low voice that turned her brain to scrambled eggs, he said, “Hannah.” One word, only two syllables, and she wanted to throw herself at him.

She was weak. She said, “I don’t know who I am.”

Had she really said that, out loud? She didn’t think so because no one had turned toward her, but Gabe still watched her. Maybe he’d heard the words. She smiled at him. One normal action.

Then he took her hand. Startled, she pulled it back. Good heavens, she’d acted like a frightened virgin—which was, of course, exactly what she was. However, she’d hoped to look a little more poised.

“Hey,” she said, because she spoke so eloquently around him. Logic told her that becoming either a babbling idiot or a silent jerk didn’t show her best side.

But she didn’t care. She felt that, if they ever managed to be together—fat chance—if he ever kissed her again, everything would be fine. She’d be able to talk to him in words that made sense and sentences with all the necessary parts of speech.

Mercedes was doing something with the little cards on two of the round tables. Finished, she nodded at Miss Birdie, who then waved everyone toward the tables as she said, “We have place cards at the tables.”

Only when she reached her chair did she realize what had happened. Mercedes had switched the place cards; she was sitting next to Gabe. For a moment, she considered changing the seats around, putting herself at another table or between…

Too late. Gabe arrived at his place and was greeting the others.

Hannah guessed the food tasted great because everyone commented on the lettuce wedges and the sirloin tips, but she didn’t know because Gabe sat next to her. To her left were Sam and Willow who’d been married for over a year and adored each other.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Sam asked the entire table. “She just had a baby and is more beautiful than ever.”

“Oh, Sam.” A blush covered Willow’s cheeks.

“Wonderful to see such a happy couple,” Gabe said before he glanced at the table where Gussie and Adam sat. “Isn’t love wonderful?”

Rounding out the table were the organist and his wife, a very quiet couple who said little even as the Petersons and Gabe attempted to chat with them. Gamely the three kept up a conversation. Hannah listened and thought of comments long after the topic had changed.

When the meal was over—finally!—everyone headed toward the sanctuary for the rehearsal.

The only catch came at the beginning, when Mattie said, “Where are you, father of the bride? You need to give—”

Gussie interrupted to say, “I don’t want my father to give me away.”

The Widows—who, Hannah thought, really had nothing to do with the service but seemed determined to control it—all gasped from the middle of the center aisle, which they’d claimed.

Miss Birdie hurried toward the back of the church where Gussie stood. “You don’t want your father to give you away? It’s tradition.”

“I know,” Gussie attempted to explain. “But I’m over thirty and the idea of my father, as much as I love him, handing me over to another man seems absurd.”

“If I know anything about her, Birdie,” Henry said, “I know she’s independent and stubborn and can take care of herself.”

“Preacher…” Miss Birdie turned toward where Adam stood in the front.

“Whatever Gussie wants is fine with me,” Adam said.

“Yes, Birdie,” Mercedes said with an edge to her voice. “This is, after all, Gussie’s wedding.”

“Her wedding,” Blossom added while Winnie nodded.

With that insurrection, Miss Birdie moved toward a pew to sit and the rehearsal began anew.

“Let’s start over,” Mattie said. “We need the groomsmen and the groom to go back in the hall.”

The short time spent in practicing hadn’t been all that uncomfortable, not until the end when Gabe escorted Hannah back to the narthex. Knowing how her resolve weakened around him, she’d pulled her arm from his and hurried away to hide behind Gussie. Inconsiderately, the bride kept moving around to greet and thank everyone.

When everything had been discussed and agreed to and everyone began to say good-bye, Hannah left the wandering protection of Gussie’s presence and headed out the door.

As she began to stride toward the parsonage, thinking she was safe, Gabe said, “Wait up, Hannah.” She hadn’t noticed how close he was. Usually so aware of where he was, how could she not have realized that? He’d sneaked up on her. She should have been more aware of her surroundings.

“I’ll walk Hannah home,” Gabe announced to Adam, who stood at the door to the sanctuary.

Adam nodded. “Take your time.”

Take your time? Hannah glanced between Gabe and her brother and bridled. They’d set her up.

She became even more aware of the treachery as everyone rushed from the church and flowed quickly around and past the two of them, leaving her alone with Gabe and the sound of triumphant laughter from the Widows.

“Your brother tells me there’s a little garden on the side of the building. Why don’t we sit there and chat?”

“I…I…” While she fumbled for words, Gabe took her hand and gently led her around the church.

A light outside the church shone on the small wrought-iron table and a couple of chairs. A streetlight farther away added a bit more illumination, enough that she could see his face and his square chin and broad shoulders and great shirt. She sat down and turned to study the bushes around the tiny slab and wondered what they were because she could not look at Gabe.

For a few minutes he didn’t say anything, only sat on the other spindly chair and held her hand. She refused to embarrass herself by pulling it away again so she concentrated instead on keeping her heart rate and breathing steady. As a doctor, she could recognize elevated respiration. As a woman, she had no idea how to regulate it.

“You know,” Gabe said. “I’m a scientist.”

“No, you’re not,” Hannah blurted and lifted her eyes to his face. A mistake. Looking at him always interfered with her thought process.

He ignored her statement. “I like to know
why
people do things.”

“Wait.” She held up a hand. “That’s what
I
say.”

“I know,” he agreed agreeably. “But what you said makes a lot of sense. Why don’t you tell me—because I’m deeply interested in the scientific method—why don’t you tell me why you broke up with me?”

She opened her mouth to explain before she realized she couldn’t.

After nearly a minute of silence as he watched her expressions, she knew he saw her complete inability to explain flitter across her face. He said, “Do you love me? I’m counting on you to tell the truth.”

“Not fair. You can’t use my words against me.”

“Sure I can,” he said.

His complete disregard for her rules took the wind out of her sails.

Then he put his hand on her cheek and looked in her eyes. “Do you love me?”

His touch and the sincerity in his voice left her floundering in still water. She nodded.

“You know, I like to know reasons. I’d like to know why you love me.”

He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. “I love you because you’re smart and a really nice person and, most important, I don’t scare you. And…” She gulped in air. “And I know this is shallow but you’re gorgeous. When you smile, I can’t breathe.”

So, of course, he smiled and she thought she’d pass out.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I never tell people how I feel. I don’t communicate.” The words tumbled out and she had to clench her teeth from giving away even more.

“Okay, you love me. Then would you please tell me why you broke up with me?” he asked.

She’d prefer to walk away, to not have to explain this because she loved Gabe so much and hated, hated, to hurt him. She’d heard pain in his voice, seen it in his eyes, which was strange because she was usually clueless about other people’s emotions.

This was no time for cowardice. She cleared her throat and said, “Because I have to return to Kenya.”

“And?”

“Did you hear me? I have to go back to Kenya. I believe God called me to return.”

“Okay.” He paused. “And?”

“And what?”

“Did God tell you to go alone?”

“No.” She shook her head. “But who would want to go with me?” When he continued to study her, she added, “You wouldn’t want to.”

“Did you ask me?”

“No. Why would you want to go to a refugee camp when you have everything here?”