Читать книгу A Bride Until Midnight / Something Unexpected - Wendy Warren - Страница 10

The founding fathers of Orchard Hill were an unlikely trio of entrepreneurs from upstate New York. One was said to have been a charming shyster who convinced his business associates back home that wealth awaited them “in the green hills of a promised land.”

According to local historians, among the first arrivals were a prominent banker and his wife, who took one look at the crudely built clapboard houses in the village and the surrounding mosquito-infested ramshackle farms and fainted dead away. The second founding father was a botanist who, through much trial and error, developed three species of apples still widely grown in the local orchards today. The third was considered to be a simpleton by his aristocratic parents. This so-called dunce proved to be a man of great wisdom and ambition who eventually established The Orchard Hill Academy, now the University of Orchard Hill.

Historical tidbits were strange things for Summer to be thinking about as she waited at the traffic light at the corner of Jefferson and Elm, but it took her mind off worrying about Madeline or wondering if she’d really glimpsed a momentary recognition in Kyle Merrick’s gaze as she was leaving the inn. She gripped the steering wheel and told herself not to jump to conclusions.

He couldn’t have recognized her.

It was possible he’d seen her photograph in the newspapers six years ago. But she’d been younger then, and blond, and had been wearing a frothy veil and a wedding gown made of acres of silk.

He hadn’t recognized her.

How could he? She barely recognized the girl she’d been then.

More than likely, what she’d thought was a fleeting recognition in Kyle’s green eyes had simply been a conscious effort to coax the blood back into his brain after that kiss. She pried the fingers of her right hand from the steering wheel and gently touched her lips. He wasn’t the only one still recovering.

Enough. They’d enjoyed a brief flirtation. Not mild, mind you, but brief. That was all it was. She had nothing to worry about. He was most likely on his way to the airport this very minute to pursue more pressing stories than a rehash of old news, even if that old news was Baltimore’s most notorious runaway bride.

She and Kyle had said their good-byes. Or at least she had. She tried to remember how he’d replied.

“Good luck,” he’d said as they’d parted ways. And everybody knew good luck was as good as goodbye.

She jumped when a horn blasted. People in Orchard Hill didn’t generally honk their horn, which meant she’d probably been sitting at the green light longer than she should. Smiling apologetically in her rearview mirror at the poor driver behind her, she quickly took her foot off the brake and continued on toward the hospital across town.

Roughly seven square miles, Orchard Hill was a city of nearly twenty-five thousand residents. The streets curved and intersected in undulating juxtaposition to the bends in the river. A state highway bisected the city from east to west, but even that was riddled with stoplights. She’d learned to drive in congested city traffic. She’d learned patience here.

She had to wait a few minutes while a crew wearing hard hats moved a newly fallen tree limb out of the intersection. A few blocks farther down the street a delivery man threw his flashing lights on and left his truck idling in the middle of Division Street. Hosanna chimed from the bell tower as it did every day at half past eleven.

It really was just an ordinary May morning in Orchard Hill. The normalcy of it was like a cool drink of lemonade, refreshing and calming at the same time.

While she waited at another red light she found herself staring at the ten foot tall statue on her left. Nobody could agree where the bronzed figure came from, or how long it had stood on the courthouse lawn.

Summer remembered vividly the first time she’d seen it more than six years ago. She’d been lost and nearly out of gas that day when she’d coasted to a stop at the curb. So exhausted that the lines and words on the road map in her hand swam before her eyes, she’d found herself gazing out the window at a whimsical figure at the head of a town square.

Most cities reserved a place of such importance for cannons and monuments and statues of decorated war heroes on mighty steeds, but that day she was drawn from her car by a larger-than-life replica of a fellow with holes in his shoes, bowed legs, patched trousers, and a dented kettle on his head. Johnny Appleseed was her first acquaintance in Orchard Hill.

She’d stood beside the statue and taken a deep breath of air scented with ripe apples and autumn leaves. Above the golden treetops in the distance she saw a smoke stack from a small factory, a water tower and several church spires. Somewhere, a marching band was practicing, and there were dog walkers on the sidewalks of what appeared to be a busy downtown.

It had been too early for streetlights, but lamps had glowed in the windows of some of the shops lining the street. Fixing her gaze straight ahead, she’d walked away from her unlocked car, leaving her ATM and credit cards in plain view on the seat inside. A thief wouldn’t get far with any of them, for all her cards had been cancelled.

Nobody duped Winston Emerson Matthews the Third without consequences, not even his daughter. Especially not his daughter.

She’d entered the first restaurant she came to and sat at a small table. A blond waitress a few years younger than Summer had appeared with a menu and a smile. Nearly overtaken with the enormity and finality of her recent actions, Summer stared into the girl’s friendly blue eyes and blurted, “Ten days ago I left a rich and powerful man at the altar. My father has disinherited me and all I have left in my purse is ten dollars and some change.”

After a moment of quiet deliberation, the waitress had replied, “I’d recommend Roxy’s Superman Special.” In a whisper, she added, “It’s a savory chicken potpie. Roxy makes it from scratch. Her crusts alone could win awards.”

Something had passed between their gazes. Summer’s eyes filled up, and all she could do was nod.

“I’ll be right back.” The angelic waitress had soon returned, a plate in each hand. She sat down across from Summer and shook out her napkin. “I’m Madeline Sullivan,” she said, handing Summer a fork and napkin and picking up another set for herself. “Welcome to Orchard Hill.”

Before the meal was finished, Summer’s second acquaintance in Orchard Hill had become the best friend she’d ever known. Madeline had taken Summer home with her, as if normal people took in disinherited young women with secret pasts every day.

She was the only person in Orchard Hill Summer had confided in, the only person who knew her given name.

Madeline had been working her way through college then. Today she was a nurse, and right now she lay in a hospital, possibly losing a baby she desperately wanted.

“I’m coming, Madeline,” Summer whispered into the celestial sovereignty reserved for promises and prayers.

Buchanan Street curved one last time before the three-story brick hospital came into view. She followed the arrows and parked near the lighted E.R. sign around back. Grabbing her shoulder bag, she locked her car then ran through the automatic doors and down a short corridor. She rounded a corner.

And came face-to-face with two Merrick brothers, not one.

Years of practice with schooling her features very nearly deserted her as she looked from Riley to Kyle. She wanted to ask Kyle what he was doing here. Why wasn’t he checking his bag at the airport?

And how had he beaten her here?

Instead she focused on a pair of brown eyes, not green, and said, “Riley, how is she?”

Riley Merrick was as tall as his brother and had a similar build. There was a depth in his eyes that put Summer at ease every time she saw him.

“You know Madeline,” he said, his voice a deep baritone. “She keeps telling me not to worry about her, that everything’s going to be okay.”

That sounded like Madeline.

“What happened?” Summer asked.

“She passed out at work. Hit her head when she fell. The bleeding seems to have stopped.”

“She was bleeding?” Summer asked.

“Too heavy to be considered spotting.”

Oh. That kind of bleeding. “And the pregnancy?” Summer whispered.

“We’re waiting for the results of blood work. A few minutes ago Madeline told me she doesn’t feel she’s lost the baby.”

That sounded like Madeline, too.

Apparently Riley realized that Kyle was still standing beside him. He glanced at him, and said, “Summer, this is my brother Kyle.”

“Hello, Kyle,” she said.

“We meet again,” he said at the same time, only slightly louder.

“You two know each other?” Riley asked, looking sideways at his brother.

“Remember when I told you I slept like a baby last night? It was at her place.”

“At my inn. In Room Seven. Alone. At least I assume he was alone.” Summer shot Kyle a stern look before turning back to Riley. “Where is Madeline now?”

Double doors clanked open and a man wearing scrubs pushed a gurney through the doorway. A television droned on the far wall in the waiting area. A little girl was crying, and a teenaged boy was holding his wrist. Other bored-looking people dozed or fidgeted, waiting for their turn to see a doctor.

“She’s in Room Four,” Riley answered quietly. “Talya’s performing an examination.”

Talya Ireland, pronounced like Tanya, only with an l, was a midwife and Madeline’s new employer. She’d stayed at the inn when she first came to town several months ago. If Madeline was with her, she was in good hands.

Summer lowered herself into a nearby vinyl chair. Before she’d even finished smoothing her skirt, Riley said, “Madeline asked me to send you in the minute you arrived.”

She was on her feet again and halfway to the door when she thought of something. “Riley?” she said.

Both Merrick brothers were watching her.

“If Madeline feels she’s going to be okay,” Summer said, “I believe her.”

Relief eased the strain on Riley’s face. Kyle’s expression was more difficult to decipher. He stood looking at her, his shoulders straight, the collar of his shirt open, cuffs rolled to his forearms. He was one of those men who played hard and cleaned up well, and he sent her stomach into a wild swirl. He was ruggedly attractive from the waves in his coffee-colored hair to the toes of his Italian-made shoes.

She forced her eyes away but felt his gaze until she disappeared on the other side of the heavy metal doors. The vinyl flooring beneath her feet muffled the sound of her footsteps. From behind curtain one came the mechanical blip of a heart monitor. Behind curtain two, a child cried forlornly. Hushed voices and a few groans that didn’t sound like pain were coming from behind curtain three.

Summer stuck her head inside room four. The hospital bed took up the majority of the narrow cubby; monitors and IV racks competed for space with an efficient-looking midwife.

“Hey,” Summer said, drawing Madeline’s gaze.

From her pillow, Madeline gave Summer a weak smile. “Hey yourself.”

Summer looked at the third woman in the room. In her late thirties, Talya Ireland had exotic gray eyes and five shades of brown hair beauty salons would love to replicate. If there was an ounce of Irish blood in her as her name suggested, it wasn’t readily apparent.

While Talya studied the blood pressure printout and fussed with a switch on the IV, Summer sidled closer to the bed and studied Madeline. The two of them were identical in size, yet today Madeline seemed slight and pale and smaller somehow.

“How are you feeling?” Summer asked.

On a shuddering breath, Madeline said, “Oh, Summer. All these sounds and smells and people scurrying around. I used to work here, but this morning all I could think about was the day Aaron died.”

Summer took Madeline’s hand. Madeline and Aaron Andrews had been childhood sweethearts and inseparable until nearly two years ago when a motorcycle accident cut his life tragically short. Madeline had been with him when he’d taken his last breath in a hospital room similar to this one. It was only natural that the horrors would come back at a time like this.

With a sniffle, Madeline pointed to the thin wall between her room and the room next door, from which came another creak and a muffled moan. “Are they doing what I think they’re doing?” she asked.

Nobody could make Summer smile like Madeline.

“Are you blushing?” Madeline asked.

Smoothing the sheet at her patient’s waist, Talya said, “Summer is such a lady.”

“Take that back.” But Summer knew she was smiling again. Friends made life so rich.

“We’re talking about you,” she said to Madeline. “And you haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m scared and shaken but better, I think.”

Sinking to the edge of the bed, Summer sighed. “You’re really okay?”

Madeline nodded. “Talya wants me to stay off my feet for a few days.”

“At least a few days,” came a stern voice from the other side of the bed.

“And the baby?” Summer asked quietly.

“I’m not far enough along to have an ultrasound, but Talya is guardedly optimistic that my pregnancy is still viable and will continue to be so for a good long time.”

Talya said, “Sometimes spontaneous bleeding occurs early in a pregnancy. It isn’t normal, but it isn’t altogether uncommon, either. It’s possible her placenta has attached a little low in her uterus. If that’s the case, I’ve seen it spontaneously move up a little to a safer holding place. Right now all we can do is wait and see.”

A nurse who used to work with Madeline bustled into the room. “Here’s your lab results,” she said, handing the report to the midwife. “Hi, Madeline.”

Talya read the report. “Your beta levels are elevated. That’s a good sign.”

The moment she grinned, Summer jumped to her feet. “I’ll get Riley.”

“I’ll go,” Talya said. “I like to deliver good news.”

With a swish of the curtain, she was gone, only to pop her head through the folds again. “Those sounds coming from your neighbors? Two twelve-year-old girls texting their grandma in Spokane.” She made a tsk, tsk, tsk sound with her tongue. “I know what’s on your minds.” She pointed her finger at Madeline. “None of that for you until I see you again in my office.” She winked at Summer. “You are under no restrictions.”

An instant later the curtain fluttered back into place. In the ensuing silence, Madeline burst out laughing. It was music to Summer’s ears.

“I’ll call Chelsea and Abby,” Summer said. “We’ll contact the caterers, Reverend Brown and everyone on the guest list.” Since there hadn’t been time to follow normal wedding protocol, most of the invitations went out via email, so it wouldn’t be difficult to send another. “We’ll tell them the wedding is being postponed for a few weeks.”

Madeline was shaking her head. “I want to talk to you about that.”

Summer had known Madeline for more than six years. This stubborn streak had begun to emerge after she’d discovered newfound happiness with Riley Merrick.

“What is it?” Summer asked.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“The answer is yes.”

“You haven’t heard the request,” Madeline insisted.

For years Summer had wanted to repay Madeline in some small or profound way for taking her under her wing when she’d first arrived in Orchard Hill. “No matter what it is, I’ll do it.” She studied the mischievous glint in Madeline’s eyes, another quality that had only recently come out of hiding, and posed her next question more haltingly. “What is the favor?”

Madeline crossed her ankles beneath the sheet, fluffed her pillow and tucked one hand under her head. When she was comfortable, she told Summer what she had in mind.

By the time Talya returned with Riley and Kyle in tow, Summer and Madeline had everything worked out and their plan in place. Summer gave her best friend a warm hug, told Riley goodbye and skirted around Kyle, who still had time, if he hurried, to catch his plane.

She smiled to herself as she walked out into the gorgeous May sunshine. Madeline was right. Everything was going to work out just fine.

Harriet Ferris never did anything halfway.

When Summer returned to the inn, the sassy redhead was talking to a man Summer didn’t know. She wore violet today, her slacks, her blouse, her earrings, even the broach on her collar, were a shade of her favorite color. Five feet two in her two-inch purple heels, she rested her elbows on the top of the registration desk and cast Summer a friendly smile. “This is Knox Miller checking in.”

The missing K. Miller was here at last.

“Isn’t Knox the most masculine name you’ve ever heard?”

Harriet didn’t flirt halfway, either.

It didn’t matter that he wore a wedding ring and had a receding hairline and expanding waist. Harriet didn’t discriminate when it came to men.

For his part, Knox was flattered and kind. He explained that he was a day late due to a family emergency, chatted for a few more minutes and accepted Summer’s welcome to The Orchard Inn.

After he left to join the crew hired to begin restoration of the old train depot, Summer filled Harriet in on Madeline’s condition. In return, Harriet relayed the messages that had come in during Summer’s hour-long absence. Mentally she calculated the time it would take to launder the guest towels, dust the hardwood floors, pick a bouquet of lilacs for the dining room table and plan tomorrow’s breakfast. In the back of her mind, she thought about Madeline’s request.

She also wondered if Kyle had managed to catch his flight.

As if thoughts really did manifest into reality, the front door opened and Kyle walked in. Once again she had the distinct impression that nothing escaped his notice. It reminded her that she needed to stay on her toes with him.

“I left the inn ahead of you,” she said. “And yet you arrived at the hospital before I did. How?”

He took his time removing his sunglasses, took his time replying. “I have a genetic predisposition to catch lights green and to bypass construction zones. I guess you could say I always get where I want to go.”

Summer knew there was no logical reason to believe Kyle was referring in any way to sex, but she had a genetic predisposition to pay attention to innuendo. “I thought you had a plane to catch.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked.

“You evade a lot of questions,” Summer said.

“We’re alike that way,” he countered.

Harriet looked up from the computer where she’d been checking out her new profile online and watched the exchange. Still sharp as a tack, she raised pencil-thin eyebrows at Summer as if concurring. Summer definitely needed to stay on her toes with this one.

“I didn’t go to the airport because I decided that meeting my future sister-in-law was more important than catching a plane,” Kyle said. “My brother’s a lucky man. I don’t think Madeline’s midwife likes me, though. What’s her secret?”

He was looking at Summer in waiting expectation, but it was Harriet who said, “Tayla doesn’t like men. That’s not a secret, though. I mean, she dates men on occasion, but she doesn’t wholly trust the lot of you. And for your information, Summer doesn’t reveal our secrets. She’s a saint that way.”

He met Summer’s gaze. “You have a lot of fans.”

“I have a lot of friends.”

“Talya,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s the name of the Greek muse of comedy.”

“You know the Muses?” Summer asked, thinking of the nine sister goddesses in Greek mythology presiding over song, poetry and the arts.

“As a writer, I’m well-acquainted with the muses.” He leaned his elbows on the registration desk, the action bringing his face closer to Summer’s. “How do you know them?”

“I studied mythology in college.”

“What college?” he asked.

Summer didn’t like answering questions about her past. Luckily Harriet liked to be the center of attention and saved Summer the trouble of trying to reply without revealing anything pertinent.

Harriet batted her fake eyelashes at Kyle and said, “Give me a second and I’ll tell you what the name Kyle means.”

Summer could have kissed her.

While Harriet clicked buttons on the computer, Kyle took out his credit card and slid it across the registration desk toward Summer. “I’m going to need that room for another night or two.”

“You’re not leaving for L.A.?” she asked.

He shook his head.

You have to be kidding me, she thought. But she feigned an apologetic smile and said, “I’m afraid all my rooms are taken.” She could tell he didn’t believe her.

“Here it is,” Harriet said. “Kyle. It means handsome. They’ve got that right. I handed over the key to Room Seven ten minutes ago.”

Kyle’s green-eyed gaze was causing an atmospheric disturbance again. In the six-plus years Summer had lived here, she’d adjusted to an entirely new life, different in every way from the one she’d left behind. No more shopping trips to London or yachting on Sunday afternoons or going wherever she pleased whenever she pleased without having to worry about expenses. Now she worked for a living, and she worked hard.

When it came to friends, she’d taken a giant step up. She liked her new life. She loved her inn, and her friends and neighbors, and she enjoyed her niche in Orchard Hill.

Men were the only category she had trouble with. It wasn’t that she didn’t have opportunities to date. She went out often and truly enjoyed dinner and conversation. But she hadn’t been wowed by any of them.

Until Kyle.

He was doing it again right now with just a look. “Have dinner with me,” he said.

Peering up at Kyle through her trifocals, Harriet said, “I’d want to be home before seven. I hate to miss The Wheel.”

Kyle seemed at a loss. Summer didn’t try to hide her grin.

“Why don’t you put Kyle in the attic apartment, dear?”

Just like that, Summer was the one at a loss, and Kyle’s smile grew. He rounded the desk and planted a kiss on Harriet’s lined, rouged cheek. “I’ll take it. What time would you like me to pick you up for dinner? I promise to have you home in time for The Wheel.”

Harriet fairly swooned as she named a time. “Would you like me to show him the attic?” she asked Summer.

“If you don’t mind all those stairs,” she said to her neighbor.

“It’ll save me from having to get on the StairMaster.” With a wink at Kyle, Harriet added, “I like a tight butt.”

There was a slight lifting of Kyle’s right eyebrow as he looked down at the audacious, bodacious woman. He glanced at Summer and said, “So do I.”

“How long will you be staying with us?” Summer asked, making a failed attempt to refrain from looking at Kyle’s rear end as he sauntered toward the stairs.

“I’m not sure.” He turned and caught her looking. “Oh. You need to know because of the room. I’ll pay for an entire week. I’m doing Riley a favor, and I’m not sure how long it will take.”

Summer was getting a bad feeling about this. “What kind of favor?” she asked.

“Madeline has doctor’s orders to stay in bed, and Riley is going to wait on her hand and foot. They won’t hear of postponing the wedding, so until Madeline’s out of danger, I’m filling in for the groom. I’m not at all sure what that entails, exactly, since I’ve never been married. Do you?”

While Summer was shaking her head, Harriet put one hand on the newel post. In a stage whisper to Summer, she said, “If I’m not back in ten minutes, don’t come looking for me.”

Summer couldn’t help smiling. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Harriet’s twitter preceded her up the stairs.

Kyle didn’t immediately follow her. Sunlight spilled through the bay window, turning the air golden yellow. He stood in the middle of all that sunshine, feet slightly apart, hips narrow, the slight cleft in his chin more pronounced with the light behind him. He was tall and lean and wouldn’t be very comfortable in the full-size bed in the attic apartment Madeline had recently vacated. He’d rented it sight unseen. That alone was cause for concern, for it suggested an agenda of some sort.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he was looking at her again as if she were a puzzle he had every intention of solving. His name may have meant handsome, but he spelled trouble with a capital T.

“Are you coming?” Harriet called from the top of the first landing.

He glanced up the staircase and heaved a sigh. With his face turned slightly, his eyes hidden, Summer glimpsed a pallor not evident before. With his guard down, his fatigue was almost palpable.

She wondered if he’d been ill, or if there was something else at the root of his exhaustion. There was a weight in his step as he followed the purple-clad woman up the open staircase, the quiet thud of their footsteps overhead the only sounds Summer heard over the wild beating of her heart.

She faced the fact that Kyle Merrick wasn’t going to be someone who’d once spent a night in her inn. He wasn’t even going to be someone she’d once kissed. He would be staying in Orchard Hill for several days, and he would be sleeping right upstairs.

He’d agreed to fill in for the groom.

That was not what she’d wanted to hear. She could feel the vein pulsing at her throat. That favor she’d wholeheartedly granted Madeline?

Summer had agreed to fill in for the bride.