Always the Baker, Finally the Bride (25 page)

“I’m not throwing anything away, Sherilyn. I can promise you that. But there are other things to consider. And we’re in the process of considering them. Just give us the space to do that, will you? Can you trust us enough to simply pray that we’re led in the right direction, and accept that sometimes things have to change? Not always. But sometimes.”

Sherilyn pulled away from him and sat back down in her chair.

Jackson returned to the other side of the desk and sat down. “Is there anything else that needs to be said?” he asked them, looking from one to the next in anticipation.

“I think Sherilyn has spoken well for us all,” Madeline told him. “I appreciate you giving us your time and your ear, little
bruthah
.”

“Can I just add one thing?” Norma asked, and Jackson gazed at her as she, the youngest of The Hens, as he had taken to calling his older sisters, brushed her sandy hair away from her face and her hazel eyes flashed.

“Of course.”

“We’ve talked often about how you bought this hotel with Desiree in mind.”

The unexpected mention of his late wife’s name pricked his chest.

“You say all the time how it was her dream, her vision. But I’d just like to point out that, although that may have been the catalyst for buying The Tanglewood, it’s absolutely become something else entirely. Somewhere along the line, this place turned into your dream, Emma’s dream, Sherilyn’s dream, and on and on. It’s become a bit like lightning in a bottle, hasn’t it?”

Jackson chuckled. “Yes, it has.”

“So just consider that when you and Emma make your final decision, will you?”

He smiled at her. “We will.”

“That’s all we can ask, then.”

And with that, the group of them stood up, and so did he. Madeline hugged him, and then Norma did as well. Sherilyn stepped up in front of him, her arms limp at her sides.

“Thanks for listening,” she offered, and he pulled her into an embrace, kissing the side of her head.

Before they left, Fee touched his arm and gave it a squeeze. Jackson thought that might have been the most affectionate she’d ever been toward him.

“Keep us in the loop, at least?” Sherilyn asked him from just outside his office door.

“You know we will.”

They filed through Reception and into the hall like a band of half-hearted warriors returning from a battle they weren’t quite sure they’d won. Jackson remained in the doorway to his office, against the jamb.

“Can I get you anything?” Lauren asked him. “Coffee? A stiff drink?”

A loud laugh belted out of him at that. “I like you, Lauren.”

The girl’s face lit up as a bright smile beamed from it.

“Two coffees would be great,” he told her. “One for me, and one for Emma.”

“Yes, sir!”

Jackson returned to his desk and grabbed his cell phone.

911
, he typed into the text box.
Drop everything and come to my office?

A few seconds later, the reply jingled.

Consider everything dropped. On my way
.

“It’s hard to believe we have to take these measures to find thirty uninterrupted minutes to be together,” Jackson said as they climbed the Vickery Creek trail to the top of the knoll.

“And we had to leave the hotel and both of our houses to get it,” Emma said with a giggle, and she reached over and grabbed his hand. “So tell me what you’re thinking now . . . about the sale of the hotel.”

Jackson sighed. He’d wanted to talk to her about the sale of the hotel since the morning after their prayers with Miguel. But interruptions and distractions had abounded and, now that he had her alone and they were free to talk, he suddenly felt uncertain.

“To tell you the truth, Emma, I’m still a little conflicted.”

“Oh.” From the sound of that one single syllable, he guessed that Emma didn’t have lingering concerns.

They reached the top of the ridge where the access trail dead-ended into a separate two-mile trail navigating around the circumference of the beautiful knoll. Jackson started toward the second part of their usual hike, and Emma followed quietly. They didn’t stop again until they reached the first scenic ridge on the north side overlooking the gorge formed by Vickery Creek. They both instinctively paused to take in the view.

After a moment, Emma released his hand. “I’m not,” she said, and Jackson looked at her squarely.

“You’re not, what?”

“I’m not conflicted.”

Jackson sighed. “No?”

“I don’t want to give up the life we’ve made, Jackson.”

“To a large degree, I don’t either,” he admitted.

“Then . . .”

“I don’t want to give you up either, Emma. I want you to be healthy and strong, and for the first time I’m starting to realize that your pace at the hotel negates that.”

“It doesn’t negate it, Jackson.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. “The fact that you say that tells me you’re not taking to heart the warning the doctor gave you.”

“I am,” she said, and she took both of his hands and squeezed them. “I promise, I am.”

“Then what’s going to change, Emma?”

“Well, I’ve been giving that a lot of thought,” she said, releasing his hands and moving to the edge of the ridge. “I thought maybe I could hire another pastry chef to work with Fee and me, someone to share some of the responsibilities.”

“You think Fee would be okay with that?”

“I think she’d relish it,” she told him. “She’s so great with the interns, scheduling them and training them. I think she’d be happy to have some more help.”

Jackson smiled.
Well. That’s a start
.

“And I have my follow-up with Dr. Mathis in a few days. I thought I’d ask her to recommend a nutritionist. Someone who can help me monitor my diet and make some changes that will help my blood pressure readings.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she said, and when she turned back toward him, he noted the unusually serious expression on her lovely—but somewhat pale—face. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get and stay healthy, Jackson. But I don’t want t—”

A crack of thunder cut her word cleanly in two. They only had a couple of seconds of eye contact before a bolt of lightning struck in the distance, the dark sky opened up, and a massive torrent of rain dropped down over them.

“Really?” he asked the sky. “Really!?”

“Ohhh!” Emma squealed, and Jackson snatched her hand.

“Let’s make a run for the car.”

She kept up with him, stride for stride, as they backtracked.

“Be careful at the turn,” she shouted. “When it rains, it gets—”

And with that, Jackson’s shoe hit a patch of slick mud and he went flying face first down to the sloppy trail.

“—muddy,” she said softly as he hit the ground. “Are you all right?”

He barely heard her over the thunder of the downpour, but he nodded as he slicked his drenched hair back from his face with a grubby hand. Despite the bleeding scrape on his left elbow, Jackson knew the worst of the damage had been to his ego.

“This is ridiculous!” she shouted at the rain. “Can you believe this?”

Jackson made it to his feet, and by the time they got under way again, a solid sheet of sideways rain limited visibility to just a few yards ahead. A greenish tint reflected from the sky, and the wind wailed so fiercely that he could hardly hear the
plop-plop-plop
of their synchronized footsteps as they tromped down the hill.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his muddy wrist as they reached the bottom, and Emma growled as she lunged past him toward her car. She’d already unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel of the bright red Mini Cooper by the time he reached the rear bumper.

Jackson folded up like an accordion fan to get himself into the car, grumbling as he clanked the door shut behind him. “This car of yours!”

“I like this car.”

“Yes. I know you do. But where are the other eighty-six clowns going to sit?”

“Oh, stop it, Grumpy.”

“I’d be a lot less grumpy if you had a normal-sized car, Emma. This isn’t exactly practical when you’re about to marry a man who’s six feet tall!”

“Well, you don’t have to ride in it, you know. We could have taken your car.”

“What’s wrong with a couple having two life-size cars, instead of one regular and one child-size?”

Emma turned and glared at him. “What are you mad at, Jackson? The size of my car, or the fact that I disagree with you about the sale of the hotel?”

Both
, he thought. But he didn’t say so.

“Just drop me at home so I can shower and get out of these filthy clothes, will you?”

“Gladly!” she snapped.

But when she turned the key . . . nothing.

“Uh-oh.”

She turned it again. Still nothing.

Jackson’s heart stopped for a moment. “Emma?”

After a long pause, she asked, “Do you belong to Triple A?”

“You mean you don’t?” he exclaimed, and Emma tossed her head back against the headrest and groaned.

“Is there anything I can say or do that’s right today, Jackson?” she asked him.

“Yes. You can tell me you brought your phone.”

“You mean you didn’t?”

Emma’s Special Creamed Raspberry Cake Filling

1 ½ cups frozen raspberries
1 tablespoon corn starch
¼ cup sugar
⅛ cup sweetened condensed milk
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan.
Stirring constantly, bring to a boil over medium heat.
Stir until thickened to desired consistency.
Cool completely before spreading onto cake.

Raspberry cream filling works best
between the layers of a chocolate fudge cake.
It can also be used to fill a vanilla bean layer cake.

It’s a shame Russell couldn’t make it. I know how close he is to J.R.”

Kat’s sunshiny face melted into a stormy one as she nodded at Emma. “I know. I’m really starting to miss him.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to make it to our wedding?” she asked, her arm tucked into the fold of Jackson’s.

“I don’t know yet. He’d hoped the movie would have wrapped by now, but he’s got a very interesting director on this one. They’re already a week over schedule with no signs of progress.”

Jackson laughed. “I wonder if Russell has anything to do with the delays.”

Kat grinned as she playfully smacked Jackson’s shoulder. “Hey, now.”

“Well, come on,” he said on a chuckle. “He’s not exactly the most focused individual I’ve ever met.”

“Here they come!” Audrey’s best friend, Carly, waved her arms at them as she stepped away from the ballroom door and pushed a basket filled with bright red rose petals toward Kat. “Is everyone ready? Do you have your rose petals?”

With a squeal muffled through the hand clamped firmly over her mouth, Carly looked like she might jump right out of her skin as everyone held fistfuls of petals at the ready.

The well-wishers moved into place around the two-tiered, raspberry-filled marble cake Emma had just finished a couple of hours earlier. Emma took the opportunity to straighten the topper Carly had found: a grinning bride and groom onboard a motorcycle. Fee had used edible gold leaf to paint the bride’s hair platinum blonde to better reflect Audrey, but the groom on the front of the bike wore a leather jacket and looked every bit the part of J.R. Hunt.