The day before the wedding, Dani and Becca arrived for a final fitting at Harriet’s town house in Mason.
It had been two months since Carter had proposed and almost that long since the mortgage payment had been met and David had moved back into the Galbraith house. With the bank’s new refinancing options, David had been able to repair the house, restock the farm and buy a new tractor. He was still stretched financially, and he would be for a while, but Galbraith was finally on an even keel.
Once the drought-breaking rain had started it hadn’t stopped. Any fear of another copycat arsonist had been washed away in a deluge of water and bright green growth. They were on the edge of winter, but spring was definitely in the air. Relieved farmers were grinning, kids were happily splashing about in muddy gumboots, and mothers and wives were groaning at the extra laundry. The syndicate that had been buying up properties had folded, causing a minor ripple in the stock market. Carlisle’s brokering firm had crashed, and Bainbridge had been removed from the board of directors, his financial activities now under the scrutiny of a special commission for high-level fraud.
At last report, Carlisle was being held on remand without bail, pending trial, and Bainbridge had left the country, tailed by Flynn, who had tracked him to the Caribbean, where he was holed up in an exclusive island resort with a “close friend.” Flynn had sold the story to a national daily with a follow-up exposé to a prominent glossy magazine. The massive injection of capital had saved Flynn from imminent bankruptcy, and the Chronicle from oblivion.
Wells, armed with an embarrassing arsenal of facts about Bainbridge meddling with the bank, had exerted pressure on the directors and freed up a number of mortgages, including Tom Stoddard’s and the Galbraiths’. The bank hadn’t changed its motto, but it was finally starting to live up to it.
Harriet opened the front door and promptly ushered Dani and Becca upstairs to one of the spare rooms, where a designer box lay in state on the bed.
Once she’d agreed to the wedding, Aunt Harriet and Becca had started making arrangements and pulling strings. Harriet had contacts that extended beyond the jewellery business into the world of haute couture. Under Harriet’s strict eye, a design was agreed upon and commissioned—and she had insisted on paying for the dress as a wedding gift.
When the white silk gown was shaken out of folds of tissue paper, Dani let out a breath. It was going to be all right.
Minutes later, she stared at her reflection, dazed. The bodice was a sleeveless shell that left her shoulders and arms bare. It fell in a long, elegant line to her feet. Becca fitted the veil and stood back.
For long moments, Dani stared at her reflection in Harriet’s full-length mirror. Her hair was in a plait, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but none of that mattered—the dress made her beautiful.
Harriet stared critically at the effect. “We’re going to have to cut your hair.”
Becca nodded. “And do something with those nails.”
“I’m not shortening my hair.”
“The length is fine, dear,” Harriet said smoothly. “I’ll just get Jose to trim the ends and take a little weight out.”
“Jose?”
Harriet lifted the curtain and peered out at the front driveway. “He cuts for the best salon in Mason. I think he’s just arrived.”
Minutes later, back in her own clothes, Dani found herself seated in Harriet’s sunny front parlour with Jose—a tall, faintly Asian-looking man—fussing over her hair.
Dani stared at the hairdressing and manicurist’s paraphernalia. Between the foil wrap and coveralls, hi-tech headgear and machinery, there was enough equipment to outfit a mission to Mars. Someone should tell NASA. “Do I have to have the nails?”
Becca lifted a brow. “How many times are you planning on getting married?”
Just one.
Dani sat down and gave herself over. “Point taken.”
The church was full; the bride was late. Carter glanced at his watch.
His best man, Gabriel West, looked relaxed. “It’s traditional.”
The vicar checked his watch, the organist frowned, taking Carter back to his childhood, when she’d glared at him for singing off-key. He checked his watch again.
Ten minutes later, the limousine nosed into the space reserved in front of the church. Pushing the driver’s door open, Dani exited the car, not waiting for David to make his way around to open the door. After the interminable wait to have, of all things, a tire changed, she was in no mood to play ladies.
Taking care the hem of the dress didn’t get smeared with dirt, Dani strode through the pretty archway that fronted the church and up the cobbled path. Carter was waiting on the steps.
She started up the steps, trying to look composed. “You waited.” And until that moment she hadn’t known just how frightened she’d been that he wouldn’t.
“I wasn’t about to let you get away this time.”
Carter’s fingers closed over hers, pulling her close and a jolt of recognition went through her. His gaze was cool, his jaw set as hard as adamantine. She’d seen that look before: when he’d been fifteen and his horse had broken a leg and Carter had insisted he was the one who had to put Jerry down. Again when he’d been twenty-five and his father had had a serious heart attack and had had to leave the farm. Carter had insisted on buying his parents out, enabling them to have a comfortable stress-free retirement. She knew that expression with the intimacy, the familiarity, of years and the primitive sense of recognition shimmered through her again. She knew him, almost as well as she knew herself—maybe even better. A piercing sweetness moved through her and suddenly she had her moment; the confirmation she had needed.
Carter loved her; he had always loved her. If she hadn’t showed, he would have come after her, and he wouldn’t have stopped until he’d found her and brought her back. “The car broke down.”
“I thought that was my line.”
“Not any more.” She crossed the fingers of one hand behind her back that this was the last hitch. She’d jumped through enough hoops, all she wanted to do was get married.
David strode up the steps, and handed Dani her bouquet. Clearing his throat, he gave Carter a stern look. “Shouldn’t you be in the church?”
With a last cold glance at the limousine, Carter released her and turned on his heel. Dani had the distinct impression that he would prefer to escort her up the aisle himself—just to make sure.
The last of the tension and strain that had marred the morning melted away as Dani lifted the veil over her face, checked her bouquet and placed her hand on Tom’s arm. A curious sense of calmness descended on her as they stepped into the vestibule, and the first strains of the “Wedding March” floated out into the warm afternoon air.
The wedding reception was held in the Jackson’s Ridge community hall, a long low building that was almost as old as the pub and which had originally been an army barracks.
Carter glanced at the copper plaque that outlined the history of the building. “Can’t seem to get away from the job.”
Harriet reached inside a plastic carry bag and handed Dani a familiar case. “Here’s your real wedding gift.”
Dani opened the lid. Her grandmother’s jewellery was still displayed exactly as she’d placed it. She was willing to bet Harriet hadn’t even opened the box; she had simply kept it for her. Moisture blurred her vision. “You said you had a buyer for these.”
Both Harriet’s eyebrows elevated. “I lied.”
David slipped a handkerchief along with an envelope into her hands. “You’d better open this before you leave.”
Carefully blotting the tears, she opened the envelope. It contained a legal document. “You can’t give me this.”
David shrugged. “I’m not, I simply refused to accept your gift of the shares. I know you had some silly belief that Galbraith isn’t your home, but I happen to think you’re wrong. Galbraith would have gone under the hammer if it wasn’t for you.”
Dani opened her mouth to argue.
“Don’t. I’m not accepting the shares.”
Carter caught her gaze. She had no problem reading the miniscule signs of body language and facial expression. It was Carter’s wedding and he was on his best behaviour. It was a known fact that he liked to socialize and that he was good at it—but only to a point—and right now he was at the limit of his patience.
His hand landed in the small of her back, and she found herself discreetly hustled to a side door. An elderly lady cut a swathe through the crowd, bent on waylaying him. With a deft movement, he dipped his head and kissed her, staving off the interruption.
Long seconds later he murmured in her ear. “Let’s get out of here. How about a chartered flight to a Pacific Island and two weeks at a secluded beach resort with no guns, no night-vision gear, no arsonists and no ostriches?”
Dani grinned and let Carter lead her out into the night. How was she supposed to resist that?