Bridesmaid Says, I Do! Read online

  Then, as if deliberately changing the subject, she held out the coffee-toned dress. ‘Now, why don’t you try this one on? I can see you in it already.’

  It was pretty obvious that Bella wanted to drop the subject. ‘All right.’

  In the changing cubicle, however, Zoe took one look at herself in the pretty bridesmaid’s dress, and she forgot about Bella and the old school friend.

  The colour was perfect—tawny flowers on a creamy white background that totally flattered her complexion. But her first thought was not to wonder how she looked.

  But—Would Kent like me in this?

  This was getting tedious.

  On Tuesday evening, Zoe was in the middle of important, toenail-painting research when the phone rang. She and Bella were wearing toe peepers to the wedding, and each night, following Bella’s instructions, Zoe was trying out a different colour. Serious comparisons were made the next day in their lunch hour.

  This evening, when the phone rang, Zoe had toe separators in place and three nails painted with rosy minx, so she was grumbling as she screwed the lid on the bottle and hobbled over to the phone. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi, Zoe.’

  The caller was male with a smooth as molasses country drawl that she instantly recognised. Her heart tried to leap clear out of her chest.

  He said, ‘Kent Rigby here.’

  Why was he ringing? Several scenarios flashed before Zoe. All of them impossible. Good grief. Calm down. He’d be ringing about another planning detail.

  But when she tried to speak, she sounded distinctly breathless.

  ‘Zoe, are you OK?’ Kent sounded genuinely concerned.

  ‘I’m perfectly fine,’ she managed to insist, although it came out in a choked whisper. ‘Just a bit puffed. I had to—’ quick breath ‘—come running in from outside.’

  Great. Now she could add dishonesty to her list of sins. Grimacing, Zoe willed herself to calm down. Developing high blood pressure before the wedding was not on the bridesmaids’ list of duties.

  She took another breath, deeper and slower, aiming for a tone that was friendly, but as businesslike as possible. ‘What can I do for you, Kent?’

  ‘I wondered if you’ve made a decision about the hens’ night. I hear you’re in charge of that, too.’

  ‘Oh, right, do you want an invitation?’ she teased.

  Kent chuckled at her weak joke. ‘My best man, Steve, has been pressuring me about a bucks’ night, and I didn’t want it to clash with your arrangements.’

  ‘Actually, I sent you an email about it earlier this evening.’

  ‘Sorry. I haven’t checked my emails. I’ve been out on the tractor since the early hours and I just got back. Thought I’d give you a quick call while my dinner’s heating up.’

  Zoe pictured Kent up before dawn, out ploughing the fields as the sun rose. Farmers worked such long hours. She wondered if Bella would be the sort of wife who took her farmer husband a Thermos of coffee and a snack. Maybe they’d share a quick cuddle behind the machinery shed?

  Oh, God. Stop it!

  Assuming her briskest, most businesslike voice, she said, ‘We’d like to have the hens’ night in Willara, on the weekend before the wedding—that’s the same weekend as the bridal shower. Bella’s friends from Brisbane don’t mind trekking off to the wilds of the country for two weekends in a row, but I think three would be expecting too much.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘So the girls are planning to book into the Willara pub—that is, unless you want to have your bucks’ night there.’

  ‘No, you stay with that arrangement. We’ll have the bucks’ party on the same night, but we’ll go over to Mullinjim. It’s not far out of town.’

  ‘Great. That sounds like a plan.’ Zoe let out a nervous, huffing laugh. ‘So it looks like the wedding’s all coming together?’

  ‘Like clockwork. Piece of cake, thanks to you, Zoe.’

  A small silence fell and Zoe was shocked to hear her heartbeats, still galloping away like a cattle stampede. She would rather keep talking than risk Kent hearing them, so she asked the question that had been on her mind for days.

  ‘Has Bella mentioned Damon Cavello, the old school friend who made contact?’

  ‘No,’ Kent said slowly. ‘She hasn’t.’

  There was no mistaking the surprise in his voice. A beat later, he asked, ‘So … what’s the wild boy up to these days?’

  Zoe could quite believe why Kent had called Damon a wild boy. She’d checked out photos of him on the internet and he had the dark, scruffy, bad-boy looks of a rock-and-roll star. It wasn’t a look that appealed to her—she’d seen enough of guys like that hanging around her parents’ band while she was growing up—but she knew bad boys were considered very sexy by girls confident enough to attract them.

  ‘Damon’s on his way back to Australia,’ she told Kent. ‘Coming from Afghanistan, I think.’

  Another small silence.

  ‘Is he OK?’ Kent asked.

  ‘As far as I know, he’s fine.’

  ‘That’s a miracle.’ Kent spoke with uncharacteristic cynicism, but then he quickly corrected himself. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m relieved to hear that he’s in one piece. But with Damon, there’s always a risk of—’ He left the sentence dangling. ‘Do you know if he’s likely to be around for the wedding?’

  ‘I think there’s a good chance.’ Zoe hoped she wasn’t breaching Bella’s confidence. But then, because she was curious, she couldn’t help adding, ‘He sounds rather mysterious.’

  ‘Yeah.’ There was a barely concealed sigh on the other end of the phone line. ‘He’s always been a bit of a puzzle, but Bella knew what drove him better than any of us. What did she tell you?’

  ‘Not much at all—just that he left Willara High in Year Twelve and ended up becoming a foreign correspondent. I got the impression he’s attracted to danger.’

  ‘No doubt about that,’ he muttered.

  She could hear definite tension in Kent’s voice now, the same tight caution she’d sensed in Bella. What was it about this Damon guy that put everyone on high alert?

  ‘How did Bella react to the news?’ Kent asked carefully.

  This last question was a curly one. Zoe sensed she was on dangerous ground, and, no matter what she thought of Kent, her loyalty lay with Bella. She certainly wouldn’t tell him that Bella had been rather edgy and strange when she’d heard about Damon Cavello.

  ‘Bella said—ah—that she’d talk to you to see if you wanted to invite him to the wedding.’

  ‘But she didn’t invite him straight out?’

  ‘No. I’m sure she wants to talk to you first. Does Damon—um—pose a problem, Kent?’

  ‘No, not at all. I didn’t mean to give that impression.’ He spoke almost too smoothly. ‘Bella’s right. He’s just an old school friend, and it’ll be great to catch up with him. Actually, I’d like his email address if that’s OK. I presume Bella’s already made contact with him?’

  Kent sounded relaxed enough, but as they said goodnight and Zoe hung up she couldn’t help wondering. And worrying.

  She wished she’d left it to Bella to tell him about this Damon guy. A bridesmaid was supposed to be tactful and diplomatic. Instead, she’d opened her big mouth and she had the awful feeling she’d stirred up unnecessary trouble.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  GRABBING a beer from the fridge, Kent snapped the top off, then went out to the back veranda.

  The night was hot and still and silent. Low clouds hid the moon and the stars, and the air was heavy and stifling, as if a thunderstorm was brewing.

  Tipping back his head, he downed the icy liquid, hoping to wash away the sense of foreboding that hunkered inside him.

  Foreboding wasn’t an emotion Kent Rigby enjoyed, and it wasn’t something that normally troubled him. Most times he was too busy working hard or playing hard. Besides, he liked to keep his life on an even keel and he left the rocking of boats to others. Like Damon Cavello
.

  Hell.

  Kent downed another icy slug, and leaned his shoulder against a timber post, staring out into the black, fathomless night. Talk about lousy timing. Why the blue blazes had Cavello come back now, just when he and Bella had everything sorted and settled?

  They hadn’t heard from him in years.

  Sure, they’d seen his news reports on television, delivered on battlefields while he was dodging explosions and bullets, or emerging from the rubble of an earthquake, covered in dust and grime.

  Damon had made no personal contact with either of them for years. And now Kent and Bella had planned a future together, and they were doing it for all the right reasons.

  Everything was working out so well. Tom Shaw was out of hospital and if he continued to follow his doctor’s instructions, he’d be OK. He was looking forward to the wedding and walking his daughter down the aisle.

  The rosy future Kent had planned was falling into place.

  But now this Cavello bombshell had exploded.

  Why now?

  Zoe sat for ages after she hung up the phone. Curled in an armchair, she almost fell into her old habit of nibbling at her thumbnail. Actually, she did chew on the corner before she remembered that she had to keep her nails pristine for the wedding. So she chewed on the inside of her lip instead. And pondered.

  The vibes for this wedding weren’t as upbeat as she would have liked. There were so many undercurrents, not just her own silly crush on the groom—which she so hoped no one had guessed—but now, with the arrival of Damon on the scene, there were Bella’s and Kent’s subtle but unmistakable tensions.

  Zoe wished they could all snap out of it. She wanted everything to be rosy and wonderful on planet Bella-and-Kent.

  Guiltily, she felt an urge to run away for a bit, but, apart from the fact that she was needed at Willara next weekend, she didn’t really have anywhere to go. It was a pity her parents didn’t live closer. She would have loved to see her little brother, Toby—to go and watch him play soccer on Saturday afternoon perhaps, or to go surfing with her dad, help her mum make her habitual Friday night curry.

  She wondered if Toby knew how lucky he was to live in a cosy house with parents who stayed in one place with a steady job now their dad ran a music store.

  One thing was certain. If she ever found the right man, she definitely wanted to settle down and to stay in one place. She wanted her children to go to school with friends they’d known since kindergarten, and she wanted them to play sports together, to make memories together …

  Just as Bella and Kent had, and as their children would, too …

  Zoe sighed as jealousy coiled unpleasantly inside her. Immediately she felt ashamed of herself. It wasn’t as if poor Bella enjoyed a perfect family life. She’d lost her mother. She had no brothers or sisters, and her only family consisted of her ill and grieving father, and a grandparent in an old people’s home.

  Was it any wonder Bella had turned to gorgeous, steady Kent Rigby and his happy, well-balanced family?

  Zoe launched to her feet before she had a chance to feel the lurch of pain that followed any thoughts about Kent. Tonight she was more determined than ever to get over that nonsense. This wedding would be fantastic and she would be the best possible bridesmaid.

  Her job for this weekend and over the next few weeks was clear. She had to steer Bella through any muddy waters that surfaced—including old flames—until she arrived safely beside Kent at the altar.

  Yes, Zoe felt better now that plan was reaffirmed.

  But as she reached for the kettle she saw her hand. Damn! She’d chewed her thumbnail to a nub.

  Stripped to the waist, Kent was bending under an outside water tap, cleaning up the worst of the day’s grime, when he heard the squeaky hinges of the backyard gate. He looked up, blinked water from his eyes, and saw Zoe Weston poised uncertainly just inside the gate.

  She was dressed in city clothes, as if she’d come straight from the office, and her crisp white blouse and charcoal pencil skirt looked totally out of place against a backdrop of gum-trees and grazing land. Kent, however, found himself helplessly captivated.

  Stunned might be a better word. He couldn’t stop staring.

  Zoe’s office clothes emphasised her neat, slim curves, and her legs, in sheer stockings and shiny high heels, were—there was only one word—sensational. Her dark hair was pulled back beneath a narrow velvet band into some kind of knot, and she looked sophisticated and serious and—heaven help him—astonishingly sexy.

  His reaction was as bad as last time. No, worse.

  When he’d met her by the road side she’d been wearing a T-shirt and blue jeans. Ever since then he’d worked hard to stop thinking about her unique qualities—not just her sensible calm manner, but the cute tilt of her head, and the blue of her eyes, and the softness of her mouth.

  Now, there was something else—something about the sight of her in her smart city clothes that grabbed him by the throat and sent a jolt arrowing south.

  Hell.

  Why was she here? Alone?

  Where was Bella? Weren’t Zoe and Bella supposed to be staying at Blue Gums this weekend with Tom Shaw? Tom was so much better now and he’d started going into Toowoomba to the AA meetings.

  What had happened?

  Shaking off his unwanted reaction, Kent called to her, ‘Hello there.’

  Zoe still hadn’t moved. In fact, she seemed to be as transfixed as he was—watching him with a worried, staring gaze and with a hand pressed to the open V of her snowy-white blouse.

  Hastily, Kent snapped off the water and reached for his discarded shirt, using it to dry his bare shoulders and chest as he hurried over to her.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ he said, stating the obvious as he thrust his arms into the sleeves of the damp and crumpled shirt. ‘Is everything OK?’

  ‘I—’ Zoe began, gulping and looking uncomfortable. ‘Bella asked me to come here. We were supposed to stay at her father’s place, but he’s—’ She grimaced, and looked embarrassed.

  ‘Oh, no. Tom isn’t drunk, is he?’

  Zoe nodded. ‘He’s in a pretty bad way, I’m afraid.’

  Kent swore and slammed a balled fist against his thigh. ‘Tom was doing so well. He seemed to be on the mend.’ He let out a heavy sigh. ‘I’m sure Bella’s upset.’

  ‘Yes. She begged me to come over to your place, while she stayed with her dad.’ Zoe’s eyes were round with worry. ‘I hope she’s OK.’

  ‘She won’t come to any harm. Tom’s never violent, and he’ll certainly never hurt his daughter. Not physically.’ Kent pulled the limp fronts of his shirt together, and started to fumble with the lower buttons. ‘Just the same, I’ll phone her straight away.’

  Zoe glanced at his chest and then looked away, her colour deepening.

  ‘Come inside,’ he said, doing up another button, then nodding towards the house. ‘You look like you could use a cuppa, or maybe something stronger.’

  ‘Thanks. I’d love a cuppa.’

  As they walked across the lawn to the screen door at the back of the house Kent’s thoughts were for Bella and her devastation over Tom’s lapse. He forced himself to ignore the slim, sophisticated woman walking beside him. He paid her no attention. He couldn’t afford to think about her curve-hugging skirt and her long legs sheathed in filmy stockings, or her high city heels sinking into the grass.

  Sitting at the granite island bench in the Rigbys’ farmhouse kitchen, Zoe wrapped her hands around a mug of hot, sweet tea, closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.

  From outside came the creamy vanilla scent of wisteria mixed with the danker scent of hay and a faint whiff of animals. But the pleasant country aromas did little to calm her. She was still shaken by the scene she’d witnessed at Blue Gums.

  The sight of Bella’s father, staggering and incoherent, had been beyond awful, and poor Bella had been so embarrassed and upset. She’d shooed Zoe out of there as quickly as she could.

  B
ut Zoe’s arrival at Willara Downs had brought an equally disturbing close encounter with Kent’s naked, wet torso.

  OK, a man without his shirt should not have been a big deal. Zoe had seen plenty of bare male chests. Of course she had, but this was the first time she’d had a close encounter with Kent Rigby’s smooth, bulky muscles, and tapering, hard-packed abs. Not to mention the enticing trail of dark hair heading downwards beneath his belt buckle.

  It was an experience destined to rattle any girl senseless. What hope had Zoe?

  For pity’s sake, she’d gone into mourning over the closure of his shirt buttons …

  In fact, Kent had been doing up his buttons crookedly and she’d almost offered to help him get them straight. How sad was that? Thank heavens she’d stopped herself just in time.

  Now she cringed as she imagined the surprise and disapproval in his eyes if she’d actually reached out and touched him.

  It’s OK. I didn’t do anything stupid. I’m calming down. I’m fine. I’m back in control.

  Zoe took another sip of tea and then a bite of the scrumptious shortbread that Kent’s mother had thoughtfully left in his pantry. Yes, she was definitely feeling calmer now. And sanity certainly returned as she heard the deep rumble of Kent’s voice down the hall. He was talking to Bella on the telephone, and she could imagine him making sure Bella was OK and that her dad was fine, too. He would be reassuring Bella and telling her he loved her.

  While their conversation continued, Zoe flicked through a country life magazine with articles about kitchen gardens and new breeds of chickens, and fabulous recipes using all kinds of cheese.

  Zoe tried to imagine Bella reading one of these country magazines, and being inspired by the articles. Somehow, she couldn’t quite picture her friend getting her beautifully manicured hands dirty in a veggie garden, or rolling pastry, or saving her kitchen scraps to feed to the chooks.

  Bella had never actually talked about her future as a farmer’s wife. In fact she seemed very much a city girl these days with a fondness for beauty salons and coffee shops rather than hay bales and farmhouse cooking. But then Bella was a bit of a dark horse. She’d never talked about her father’s problems with alcohol either.