Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'. Debbie Macomber
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their money, but she admired the couple’s discipline. Each decision had been painstaking.
“I’m sorry.” Savannah’s mind clearly wasn’t on the subject at hand. It had taken a sharp turn in another direction the moment Susan had shown up for their appointment. She reminded Savannah so much of her brother. Susan and Nash had the same eye and hair color, but they were alike in other ways, as well. The way Susan smiled and her easy laugh were Nash’s trademarks.
Savannah had worked hard to force all thoughts of Nash from her mind. Naively, she felt she’d succeeded, until Susan had come into the shop.
Savannah didn’t know what it was about this hardheaded cynic that attracted her so strongly. She resented the fact that he was the one to ignite the spark of her sensual nature. There was no future for them. Not when their views on love and marriage were so diametrically opposed.
“Savannah,” Susan asked, “are you feeling okay?”
“Of course. I’m sorry, my thoughts seem to be a thousand miles away.”
“I noticed,” Susan said with a laugh.
Her mood certainly seemed to have improved since their previous meeting, Savannah noticed, wishing she could say the same. Nash hadn’t contacted her since their last disastrous confrontation a few days earlier. Not that she’d expected he would.
Susan had entered the small dressing room and stepped into the wedding gown. She came out, lifting her hair at the back so Savannah could fasten the long row of pearl buttons.
“I’m having lunch with Nash on Thursday,” Susan announced unexpectedly.
“I’m glad you two have patched up your differences.”
Susan’s shoulders moved in a reflective sigh. “We haven’t exactly—at least, not yet. I called him to apologize for hanging up on him. He must have been eager to talk to me because his assistant told me he was due in court and I shouldn’t expect to hear from him until that afternoon. He phoned back no more than five minutes later.”
“He loves you very much.” Savannah’s fingers expertly fastened the pearl buttons. Nash had proved he was capable of caring deeply for another human being, yet he staunchly denied the healing power of love, wouldn’t allow it into his own life.
Perhaps you’re doing the same thing.
The thought came at her like the burning flash from a laser gun, too fast to avoid, and too painful to ignore. Savannah shook her head to chase away the doubts. It was ridiculous. She’d purposely chosen a career that was steeped in romance. To suggest she was blocking love from her own life was ludicrous. Yet the accusation repeated itself over and over.…
“Savannah?”
“I’m finished,” she said quickly. Startled, she stepped back.
Susan dropped her arms and shook her hair free before slowly turning around to face Savannah. “Well?” she asked breathlessly. “What do you think?”
Although she was still preoccupied with a series of haunting doubts, Savannah couldn’t help admiring how beautiful Nash’s sister looked in the bridal gown. “Oh, Susan, you’re lovely.”
The young woman viewed herself in the mirror, staring at her reflection for several minutes as if she wasn’t sure she could believe what she was seeing.
“I’m going to ask Nash to attend the wedding when we have lunch,” she said. Then, biting her lip, she added, “I’m praying he’ll agree to that much.”
“He should.” Savannah didn’t want to build up Susan’s expectations. She honestly couldn’t predict what Nash would say; she only knew what she thought he should do.
“He seemed pleased to hear from me,” Susan went on to say.
“I’m sure he was.” They stood beside each other in front of the mirror. Neither seemed inclined to move. Savannah couldn’t speak for Susan, but for her part, the mirror made the reality of her situation all too clear. Her tailored pants might not reveal her scarred and twisted leg, but she remained constantly aware of it, a not-so-gentle reminder of her deficiency.
“Let me know what Nash says,” Savannah said impulsively just before Susan left the shop.
“I will.” Susan’s eyes shone with a childlike enthusiasm as she turned and walked away.
Savannah sat at her desk and wrote down the pertinent facts about the wedding gown she was ordering for Susan, but as she moved the pen across the paper, her thoughts weren’t on dress measurements. Instead they flew straight to Nash. If nothing else, he’d given her cause to think over her life and face up to a few uncomfortable truths. That wasn’t a bad day’s work for a skeptical divorce attorney. It was unfortunate he’d never realize the impact he’d had on her.
Nash was waiting in the booth at quarter after twelve on Thursday, anxiously glancing at his watch every fifteen seconds, convinced Susan wasn’t going to show, when she strolled into the restaurant. A smile lit her face when she saw him. It was almost as if they’d never disagreed, and she was a kid again coming to her big brother for advice.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, slipping into the vinyl seat across from him. “I’m starved.” She reached for a salted chip, weighing it down with spicy salsa.
“It’s good to see you,” Nash ventured, taking the first step toward reconciliation. He’d missed Susan and he said so.
“I’ve missed you, too. It doesn’t feel right for us to fight, does it?”
“Not at all.”
“You’re the only real family I have.”
“I feel the same way. We’ve both made mistakes and we should learn from them.” He didn’t cast blame. There was no point.
The waitress brought their menus. Nash didn’t recognize the young woman, which made him consider just how long it was since he’d had lunch with Susan. Frowning, he realized she’d been the one to approach him about a reconciliation, when as the older, more mature adult, he should’ve been working toward that end himself.
“I brought you something,” Susan said, setting her handbag on the table. She rooted through it until she found what she was looking for. Taking the envelope from her purse, she handed it to him.
Nash accepted the envelope, peeled it open and pulled out a handcrafted wedding invitation, written on antique-white parchment paper in gold letters. He didn’t realize his sister knew calligraphy. Although it was obviously handmade, the effort was competent and appealing to the eye.
“I wrote it myself,” Susan said eagerly. “Savannah suggested Kurt and I would save money by making our own wedding invitations. It’s much more personal this way, don’t you think?”
“Very nice.”
“The gold ink on the parchment paper was Kurt’s idea. Savannah gave me a book on calligraphy and I’ve been practicing every afternoon.”
He wondered how many more times his sister would find an excuse to drag the wedding coordinator’s name into their conversation. Each time Susan mentioned Savannah it brought up unwelcome memories of their few short times together. Memories Nash would rather forget.
“Do you like it?” Susan asked eagerly. She seemed to be waiting for something more.
“You did a beautiful job,” he said.
“I’m really glad you think so.”
Susan was grinning under the warmth of his praise.
The waitress returned and they placed their order, although neither of them had looked at the menu. “We’re certainly creatures of habit, aren’t we?” his sister teased.
“So,” he said, relaxing in the booth, “how are the wedding plans going?”
“Very