Bridesmaid Says, I Do! Page 7

  ‘I’m going to shift all this,’ she announced hurriedly as soon as she saw him. ‘I was planning to tidy everything before you got back.’

  Black mood gone, Kent suppressed a smile as he stepped through the doorway into his kitchen.

  ‘I—I know I’ve been a little carried away,’ she hastened to add. ‘I wanted to see how these candles looked, but I wasn’t expecting you so soon, Kent. You’re early, aren’t you?’

  ‘Bella’s … worn out,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Oh.’ Zoe frowned. ‘Well, I know you weren’t expecting to come home to forty-eight candles, but they’re for the wedding. What do you think?’

  ‘They’re beautiful.’ He gave in to the smile tugging at his mouth. And you’re beautiful, too …

  The thought sprang unbidden, and the words trembled on his lips, but thank goodness he resisted the impulse to voice them aloud.

  ‘I wanted to get the full impact,’ Zoe was explaining earnestly. ‘I thought the candles would be lovely for the wedding reception. I’d like to put them in little paper bags filled with sand and they should look lovely outside in the garden. But don’t worry—they’re battery powered, so they’re not going to burn your house down.’

  ‘That’s a relief.’ Stepping closer, Kent lifted a little candle. ‘And they can’t blow out either.’

  ‘No. They’re called smart candles.’

  ‘Good name.’ He smiled at her, and he couldn’t help adding, ‘Smart candles for a smart girl.’ Too late, he realised how softly he’d spoken, almost seductively, as if a weird kind of spell had taken hold of him.

  In response, Zoe’s blue eyes grew wider, clearly surprised. Her lips parted in a small moue.

  Kent found himself staring at her soft pink lips … gazing into her lovely, expressive blue eyes … until he was lost in those eyes.

  He was in free fall.

  And all he could think was how badly he wanted to kiss Zoe. Now. In the middle of his kitchen. Surrounded by the glow of her candles.

  He would start by sweeping her into his arms and kissing her sweet, pouty lips, and then he would sample the pale, fine skin at the base of her throat.

  But perhaps Zoe could read his mind. She dropped her gaze and a deep stain spread over her cheeks. Her hand shook as she pressed it to her forehead, pushing back a strand of hair with a small sound of dismay.

  Kent blinked. What the hell had come over him? Why couldn’t he shake off this strange feeling of enchantment?

  Zoe was the bridesmaid, for crying out loud. He had to forget about kissing her. Say something about the candles.

  With a supreme effort, he dragged his attention away from her. What had she said? Something about putting these candles in little bags of sand?

  ‘Do you have the sand you need?’ he asked.

  Zoe shook her head. ‘I—I’m really mad with myself. I meant to call in at a craft shop and I forgot.’

  ‘A craft shop? For sand?’

  ‘In Brisbane the craft shops sell lovely, fine white sand.’

  At that, he couldn’t help laughing.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You don’t need to buy sand at a craft shop, Zoe. Willara Creek is full of it.’

  She shook her head, clearly unimpressed. ‘But creek sand is damp and dirty and full of little twiggy bits.’

  ‘Not all creek sand. Why don’t I take you down there tomorrow and you can see what you think?’ When she hesitated, he said, ‘If it’s not up to scratch, no harm done.’

  ‘Bella and your mother are both coming over tomorrow. We’re going to be busy with all the preparations.’

  ‘We’ll go first thing in the morning, then. If you don’t mind an early start. How about a quick trip down to the creek before breakfast?’

  There was more than a slight hesitation this time, but then Zoe nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said, although she didn’t smile. Instead she became businesslike. ‘I’ll shift everything out of here now.’ Already she was turning off the candles.

  Sitting in bed, Zoe stared into the darkness, unable to sleep.

  Hugging her knees, she rocked slightly, something she only did when she was worried.

  Or puzzled.

  And confused.

  The foreboding she’d felt about this wedding was deepening. Something really wasn’t right—and she was pretty sure it wasn’t just her feelings about the bridegroom getting in the way.

  She knew Bella wasn’t happy and the unhappiness wasn’t only related to her father’s health problems. Now Zoe was beginning to suspect that Kent wasn’t happy either.

  This possibility shocked her.

  How could such a gorgeous, successful man, who could no doubt have his pick of any girl in the district, allow himself to walk, with his eyes wide open, into a marriage that wasn’t gloriously happy?

  It was the kind of question that would keep a conscientious bridesmaid awake all night. Pity she’d agreed to be up at the crack of dawn.

  When Zoe woke to Kent’s knock the next morning she felt more like a sleep deprived bridesmaid than a conscientious one. The thought of leaving her nice comfy bed to look at sand in a creek bed held no appeal.

  But Kent had brought her a mug of tea and a slice of hot toast with strawberry jam, and Zoe couldn’t help being impressed by this, so she soon found herself in his ute, bumping down a rough dirt track to Willara Creek.

  To discover the creek was stunningly beautiful.

  Majestic twisted and knotted paperbarks and tall river gums stood guard above water that was quiet and still and cool, and edged by boulders entwined with grevillea roots. Wind whispered gently in the she-oaks.

  Charmed, Zoe watched a flight of wild ducks take off from the water. ‘It’s so beautiful and peaceful,’ she said in an awed whisper.

  Kent smiled at her. ‘I thought you might like it.’

  As she climbed out of the ute she heard birds calling to each other as they hunted for honey in the bright red grevillea flowers.

  ‘And here’s the sand,’ she said, almost straight away seeing a small beach of nice white quartz-like grains.

  ‘There’s even better sand over here.’ Kent was pointing farther along the bank.

  Sure enough, he was right. Trapped among rocks, the sand was so white it glistened. Kneeling, Zoe studied it more closely and saw flickers of gold—pale golden specks, shining brightly. ‘Kent, that can’t be real gold?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid it’s only fool’s gold. Its technical name is pyrite. But it’s pretty enough for what you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s perfect. Absolutely gorgeous for a wedding.’

  With impressive efficiency, Kent filled a couple of good-sized buckets and stowed them in the back of his ute.

  Zoe took a deep breath of the fresh morning air as she looked about her at the deep pool of cool, inviting water, the smooth boulders and magnificent trees. ‘I guess we’ll have to go back already, but what a pity. It’s so beautiful here. It almost looks as if it’s been landscaped.’

  ‘We don’t have to rush away.’ Kent left the ute and squatted on the bank, looking out across the still water. ‘This place has always been special. We’ve always kept the cattle out of here and we pump water up to troughs for them.’

  ‘It must be amazing to have a place like this that you actually own. You’d feel a very close affinity to it.’

  To Zoe’s surprise, Kent didn’t respond straight away. Picking up a handful of polished river stones, he skipped them out over the water, watching them bounce. As the last stone plopped he said, without looking at her, ‘This is where I nearly ended my young life.’

  Oh, God.

  A pang of horror arrowed through Zoe, and she had a sudden picture of a little boy with dark hair and dark eyes recklessly diving and hitting his head.

  This lovely man had nearly died.

  Here. In this idyllic setting.

  Her throat stung and she might have cried, if Kent hadn’t been watching.

  He
sent her a grin.

  She blinked away the tears. ‘So this is where Bella’s dad saved you?’

  He nodded. ‘It was nearly a year before I got back in the water.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ And then, she had to ask, ‘What was it like, Kent? Can you remember? Did you know you’d nearly died?’

  As soon as the questions were out she felt embarrassed by her nosiness, but Kent, to her relief, didn’t seem to mind.

  ‘I have no recollection at all of diving in, but I have a very vivid memory of opening my eyes from a deep and terrible, dark dream where I was choking. I looked straight up into Tom Shaw’s face, and beyond him I could see the vivid blue sky and the tops of the river gums.’

  ‘Did you know what had happened?’

  Kent nodded slowly. ‘It’s weird, but I seemed to understand that I’d been given a second chance at life.’

  He’d only been six—so young to be confronted with something so profound.

  ‘I’m surprised you’re still happy to come down here,’ she said.

  ‘I love it here,’ Kent replied quietly. ‘This place always makes me think about survival. And fate.’

  ‘And Tom Shaw.’

  His dark eyes studied Zoe’s face intently, and again she felt an unwilling connection, a silent something zinging between them. Quicksilver shivers turned her arms to goose bumps.

  ‘And Tom Shaw,’ Kent said quietly. ‘I’ll never forget that debt.’

  Shortly after they got back to the homestead, Bella rang.

  ‘How are things at your place this morning?’ Kent asked her.

  ‘Dad’s fine, thank heavens. He slept in late, but he’s just eaten a huge recovery breakfast. And he seems really well. No coughing or shortness of breath. And of course, he’s full of remorse and promises.’

  ‘Good. So you’ll be coming over here soon?’

  ‘Actually …’ An awkward note crept into Bella’s voice. ‘That’s what I’m ringing about. I’ve been thinking I really should scoot into town to see Paddy.’

  ‘Your grandfather?’ Surprise buzzed a low warning inside Kent. ‘But Zoe’s here. Don’t you two have all kinds of jobs lined up for this weekend?’

  ‘Well … yes … but I thought I could squeeze in a very quick trip to town. It’s just that I haven’t seen Paddy for ages and you know how dreary it can be in the old people’s home.’ Almost as an afterthought, Bella asked, ‘Is Zoe at a loose end?’

  Kent glanced through the open doorway across the veranda to the garden. His mother had driven out from town to discuss wedding plans and she and Zoe were deep in conversation. They were pacing out sections of lawn and, judging by their arm-waving movements and general nodding and jotting-down of notes, they were discussing the table and seating arrangements.

  They’d started over coffee this morning, chatting about the bridal shower—something about making a wedding dress from wrapping paper. Then they’d moved on to the flowers for table centrepieces at the wedding, and the kinds of pot plants that looked best in the gazebo. Zoe had wondered if there should be little lights entwined with the greenery.

  The two of them were getting on like a bushfire.

  But Kent knew damn well that it should be Bella who was out there in the garden with his mother. Surely, the bride should be involved in all this planning.

  Renewed uneasiness stirred in him. He did his best to suppress it. Bella had always been upfront with him. She would tell him if there was a problem.

  ‘Zoe’s certainly not at a loose end,’ he told her now. ‘She and my mother are pretty busy, actually. If you’re not careful they’ll have the whole wedding planned before you get here.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ Bella said with a laugh.

  ‘Wonderful?’ Kent tried not to sound too concerned, but he couldn’t shake off the troubling sense that something was definitely off kilter. Last night when he’d gone over to the Shaws’ place, Bella had been moody and despondent, but that was excusable. He’d understood how upset she was about Tom.

  But this morning was different. Tom was on the mend again, and Bella seemed to be leaving all the arrangements for the wedding to Zoe. Surely she should be here?

  ‘You know me, Kent,’ Bella said smoothly. ‘I’ve never been much of a planner. Remember how I always used to leave my assignments until the last minute.’

  ‘Yeah, I remember. But I think you should remember that Zoe is a planner, and hosting a wedding with dozens of guests is hardly the same as a school assignment. Zoe’s your only bridesmaid, for heaven’s sake, and she’s doing an incredible job, but you can’t leave it all on her shoulders.’

  ‘Kent, you’re right. I’m sorry.’ Bella’s lowered voice was suddenly contrite. ‘I mustn’t leave everything to Zoe just because she’s so capable. Look, I promise to be out there very, very soon. I’ll just race into town, say a quick hello to Paddy, and I’ll come straight over. I’ll bring a cherry pie and some of that lovely stuffed bread from the Willara bakery for lunch.’

  Still worried, Kent hung up and stood with his hand resting on the receiver. He frowned as he looked through the doorway to his mother and Zoe out in the garden.

  They were examining a bed of roses now, heads together—one a shower of silver curls and the other a silky, dark brown fall. The two of them were talking animatedly and doing rather a lot of smiling and nodding.

  Zoe leaned forward to smell a lush pink rose bloom, and her hair swung forward with the movement. She was wearing knee-length khaki shorts and sandals, and a soft floral top with a little frill that skimmed her collarbones—so different from yesterday afternoon’s pencil-slim skirt, stockings and high heels, and yet every bit as appealing.

  The women moved on, and his mother became busy with her secateurs, tidying, trimming, and apparently explaining something to Zoe. Every so often, a tinkle of feminine laughter floated over the lawn.

  Watching them, Kent thought that any stranger, coming upon the idyllic scene, could be forgiven for assuming that Zoe was his mother’s future daughter-in-law.

  His bride.

  Hell. A dangerous flame leapt in his chest. Hell no. Not Zoe. It was ridiculous. Impossible. Never going to happen.

  Bella should be here. Now.

  As it turned out, Zoe also made a trip into Willara that morning. Having settled on their plans for the bridal shower, she and Kent’s mother needed several items from the newsagent, so Zoe volunteered to collect them.

  ‘Perhaps Kent could go with you for company,’ Stephanie Rigby suggested.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Zoe saw Kent tense, and felt an answering whip-crack reaction. No. No way could she risk spending any more time alone with her best friend’s bridegroom.

  Without chancing another glance in Kent’s direction, she said, ‘Thanks, but I know Kent’s busy, and I’ll be fine on my own.’

  To her relief, there was no argument.

  ‘You never know your luck,’ Stephanie said serenely. ‘You might run into Bella and you could double check her preferences before you buy the ribbons and the paper daisies.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll keep an eye out for her. I guess Willara’s so small, it’s quite possible to run into people on the main street.’

  Stephanie laughed. ‘It happens all the time.’

  ‘Your best chance of catching Bella will be at the Greenacres home or the bakery,’ Kent suggested in a dry, unreadable tone that made Zoe wonder if he was in a bad mood.

  ‘OK, I’ll try the home, then the bakery.’

  Zoe had never visited a home for the aged. Her grandparents were still quite fit and healthy and lived in their own homes, so she was already a bit nervous when she pulled up at Greenacres on Willara’s outskirts. Then she walked through sliding doors into the large, tiled foyer, and came to a frozen, heart-thudding halt.

  Bella was standing on the far side of the reception area, deep in conversation—an animated, intense conversation—with a young man.

  Zoe took one at Bella’s compa
nion and immediately recognised the wild, dark hair and strong stubbled jaw from the photos she’d seen on the internet. Damon Cavello.

  She felt a punch of shock in the centre of her chest, but she told herself she was overreacting. Damon was an old friend of Bella’s and Kent’s from their school days—and a chance meeting with him in an aged care home was perfectly harmless. It wasn’t as if she’d caught Bella indulging in a sly assignation. This was no big deal.

  So maybe they were leaning subtly towards each other and gazing intently into each other’s eyes. And maybe their body language suggested a deep, mutual interest that locked out the rest of the world.

  Or maybe Zoe was totally misreading the whole situation.

  Unable to contain her curiosity a moment longer, she stepped forward. ‘Bella!’

  Her friend jumped and turned, and when she saw Zoe she blushed like litmus paper.

  ‘Zoe, f-fancy seeing you here.’ Bella shot a hasty glance to the man at her side, then back to her friend. ‘Are you looking for me? Nothing’s happened at home, has it?’

  ‘There’s no problem,’ Zoe reassured her. ‘I came into town to buy a few things from the newsagent, and I ducked in here first. We knew you were here and we’d like to have your approval on—’

  Zoe hesitated, uncomfortably aware of Damon Cavello’s steely and not particularly friendly gaze. ‘We wanted to check on one or two—matters—for the wedding.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Bella was her normal colour again, and she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, drawing dignity around her like armour. She smiled carefully as she turned to the man beside her. ‘Damon, this is my bridesmaid, my wonderful friend, Zoe Weston.’

  Despite the tension zinging in the air, Zoe was aware of a warm swelling of pride when she heard herself described in such glowing terms.

  ‘Zoe, this is Damon Cavello, an old school friend.’

  ‘Of course.’ Zoe held out her hand and favoured him with her warmest smile. ‘You contacted me on Facebook. Hi, Damon, nice to meet you.’

  ‘How do you do, Zoe?’ Damon shook her hand firmly, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘And thank you for engineering this chance to hook up with the old gang.’