The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers. Cynthia Thomason
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a family matter. Besides, Jude was still in love with her husband, probably always would be. Was that a healthy way to live her life? Probably not. But Liam Manning hooked up with his wild, good-hearted Jude? No way. Three-piece suits did not go well with chaps and boots. And he wasn’t at all sure how he would feel if they were somehow attracted to each other.
LIFE WAS FILLED with too many bittersweet moments. That was how Jude felt almost every day. Those moments happened when she visited her mother and remembered when Maggie Foster was vibrant and brilliant and loving. Or when she waved her sister Alexis off in a limousine to begin her honeymoon. Or when she thought of Paul, as she so often did, in so many ways. The freshest of the bittersweets occurred Monday morning as she shared a last cup of coffee with her sister Carrie before the airport shuttle came to get her.
“Don’t forget to take your meds,” Jude said. “I saw Dad stuffing your duffel with them this morning.”
“I won’t forget.” Carrie smiled over the rim of her mug. “Does everyone in my family think I enjoy having asthma?”
Jude chuckled. “Point taken.”
“Now, let’s get back to the subject of Liam Manning.”
“What do you want to say about Liam?”
“He’s gorgeous. How’s that for a start?”
“He’s decent looking, I’ll agree with that. But I’m not interested in him, gorgeous or otherwise.”
“So why are you so upset that he might not show up at the barn today?”
“Upset? I’m not upset.” Jude had confided in her sister this morning about the possibility of Liam coming out to the farm. Jude didn’t believe he would and had admitted this to Carrie. Since leaving the reception on Saturday night, she’d tried to put the entire incident out of her mind. Meeting someone on a starstruck night of love and having it actually materialize into something was not Jude O’Leary luck.
“Besides,” Jude said. “He was just being polite at the wedding. Dad coerced him into asking me to dance, and I guess small talk was a part of the deal.”
“But he said he was interested in your charities,” Carrie reminded her.
“I can’t believe that’s true. Oh, here, Liam. Here are my goats. Aren’t they adorable?” Jude mimicked her own voice. “Come on, Carrie, any interest he may have shown was just small talk.”
“All right. Maybe he’s not interested in your charities,” Carrie said, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe his interest has everything to do with you.”
Jude snorted, one of her unladylike habits. “Care Bear, be reasonable. If Liam wanted to date a Foster girl, he’d sure as heck pick you. Cute, petite, soft-spoken and smart. You’d be Liam’s dream girl.”
“According to who?” Carrie said. “He never even spoke to me at the wedding.”
“Because, unlike me, you were never lacking a dance partner! The poor man never had a chance to whisk you onto the floor.”
“I’ll bet he shows up,” Carrie said. “And just in case, I think you should put on a bit of makeup...” She held up her hand as if she believed Jude were going to protest the notion. “Not a lot, just a touch. A little blush, some eye shadow.”
Jude leaned back in her chair and threw her hands up. “Will you look at me for once, Carrie? I mean really look! I wear makeup. I have some on now, and you can’t even tell.”
Carrie tried to appear guilty. As usual, the expression came across as Care Bear cute. “Oh. Now I see it. Maybe a little more blush...”
“I am not going to any fuss for a man who’s not going to show,” Jude said.
“Okay, have it your way. Be stubborn and negative and don’t take advantage of this opportunity if it should happen today.”
“I’m not stupid, Carrie. Even I recognize that Liam is a good-looking guy with a lot going for him. If he comes by, I’ll try to be all girly and sweet.”
“And phony.”
Jude rolled her eyes. Pleasing Carrie was not easy.
“Just be yourself, Jude. That’s the person he talked to at the wedding.” Carrie got up and looked out the kitchen window. “The shuttle is coming up the drive, so I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight. Let me know if you hear from the honeymooners.”
Carrie slung her duffel over one shoulder, her purse over the other, and picked up her suitcase.
“Let me carry those things for you,” Jude said.
“Stop it! I can manage my own things. Quit babying me, Jude. And get a life, will you? I worry about you. Try some positive thinking for a change, and good things will happen.”
“I suppose you know of a magic potion for that, don’t you, Carrie, or a crystal I can wear around my neck?”
Carrie fingered her own good luck talisman around her neck. “You’re impossible. Why do I even try?”
Jude hugged her sister over all her gear. “Don’t worry about me, sis. I’ve got everything I want out at that barn with my cozy apartment above just right for me and Wes.”
“You live with horses and noise, and...”
“You’re wrong, Carrie. I live in peace and solitude. Remember when we had a full-time groom in that apartment? We had six horses. Now we have three and taking care of them is a piece of cake. My life is full. The only thing that would make it more perfect is if I’d have you here for more than a few days at a time.”
Carrie leaned back and stared into her sister’s eyes. “And Liam Manning. He might make it more perfect.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not where you’re concerned.” Carrie gave her sister one last smile. “Take care of yourself. Talk to you tonight.”
The shuttle taking Carrie to the Cleveland airport was soon just a cloud of dust. Jude missed her already. Less than two years apart in age, they’d always been close. Jude couldn’t imagine her life if Carrie weren’t in it. So, yes, of course she worried.
She took the mugs to the sink, rinsed them out and decided she’d go up and visit her mother for a few minutes. Then she’d head back to the barn where she was comfortable.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers and the familiar smells of hay and leather and the tasks and nonhuman company would surround her whether Liam Manning showed up or not. Most days, that was all the positive thinking she needed to get her through.
* * *
JUDE KNEW RIGHT away that the BMW coming up the drive had to belong to Liam. It was a corporate-looking car and it only made sense that it was owned by a corporate-looking guy. She wondered if he would park next to her pickup or leave some space so his shiny sedan wouldn’t be inflicted with old Dodge Ram barnyard dust.
She leaned on the rake she’d been using to spread chicken feed and waited for him to get out of the car. He’d actually shown up. If Carrie were still here, she’d be gloating big-time. And he’d even remembered her fashion advice and had on a pair of jeans. Despite the denims having a “just pressed” look, at least they were barn appropriate. His close-fitting, long-sleeved T-shirt was a common Pittsburgh Steelers variety, faded from washing. His sandy hair, unencumbered by a ball cap like hers was, was neatly combed, proving that the executive still existed alongside the cowboy.
She took off her cap and squinted into the sun. “Well, well, look who’s here. Did you bring a hammer?”
He came toward her. “In the trunk. You’ll have to show me how to use it.”
She