Authors: Donna Alward
Jen had befriended Lily when she’d first come to town, had introduced her around and made her feel that she’d finally found a home. The kind of home she’d never had growing up in Toronto. Home, hah. Home had consisted of a series of apartments, never settling in one place for long. It had meant a new school more years than not, new classmates, new routines. Lily had read
Anne of Green Gables
as a child and had keenly felt Anne’s longing for a “bosom friend.” But Lily had always been hesitant, knowing that she would end up leaving friends behind when they moved again.
But then she’d come to Larch Valley for her job, and had fallen in love with the town and its people. Jen was the closest thing Lily had ever had to a sister, when it came right down to it. And now Lily was an adult and could make her own choices. And if now and then her town house felt a bit lonely, that was okay. Having a place to belong was enough. And she had a good life. She enjoyed her job. She had friends. She filled her spare time with fun projects.
Not that dealing with Noah Laramie this morning could be classified as fun.
As she wiped a plate and placed it in the cupboard, she
decided that the best thing to do was ignore the fact that this person happened to be a very tall, very handsome ex-soldier who’d been a hero on the battlefield. He was the brother of a friend. A cranky, proud brother at that.
Lily worked clear through the afternoon, cleaning the small house until it sparkled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the shining floors and gleaming appliances. She put some of the chicken breasts she’d brought to marinate. From the look of it, Noah had been eating simple meal-in-a-box type food. A decent dinner would do him good. She was putting together a salad when Andrew’s truck drove in the yard, and Noah got out—along with Andrew and Jen. She thought of the chicken on the grill out back. She’d made four breasts so he would have leftovers. Oh, well. At least there was enough if they all stayed for dinner.
Noah stomped inside, using his toes to push off his boots. “You’re still here?”
She wiped her hands on a dish towel and opened her mouth to retort when Jen stepped in.
“Noah! What a greeting!”
His gaze skittered away from Lily’s as he colored. “Sorry,” he murmured. Andrew paid no attention, and Jen blew by through to the kitchen, a parcel in her hands. Lily waited for Noah to look back at her.
When he did, she saw he was embarrassed at the harsh tone he’d used. He shifted his weight on his heels. “I spoke sharply. I just…I figured you’d be finished by now.”
“I made you dinner,” she said. And yet she was compelled to say more. He had to know this wasn’t about the money. “I also made a promise,” she said softly, so the others couldn’t hear. “And I don’t go back on my promises. Not ever.” She swallowed, knowing exactly how true that was. Her mind flitted back to the day everything in her life had changed. She
had been the one who’d stayed. Who’d waited, hoping. Who had kept her promise. Curtis was the one who had left without a word, breaking her heart in the process.
“Your promise wasn’t to me.” Noah interrupted her thoughts.
“A promise is a promise just the same.”
The words hung for a few moments, until Noah seemed to accept that she meant them. “I didn’t know they were both coming,” he said gruffly.
“It’s your house. You don’t need to apologize to me. I was going to leave leftovers for you to have another time, but there’s enough food for the three of you. Which reminds me, I need to check on the barbecue.”
She disappeared outside, going to flip the chicken and taking a breath, happy to get away from the tense atmosphere that had seemed to envelop her both times she’d been with Noah. For a man in such a predicament, he certainly was independent. He was prepared to fight her every step of the way, it seemed. That was fine. She even admired his tenacity—it spoke of a strength of character. As she turned the chicken over with tongs, she thought of the long days of her summer vacation and wondered how he was going to manage here. There was nothing that said she couldn’t help him out while he was away at Lazy L. Cleaning, cooking, sewing…the domestic arena was her specialty. It would give her something to keep busy until school went back in September.
She got the feeling that convincing him would be quite another matter.
When she went back inside, Jen had set the table for four. “Oh,” Lily said, surprised. “I’m not staying. You three enjoy.”
“But of course you’re staying.” Jen butted in again, sticking her head in the refrigerator for the salad dressing Lily had brought in with the groceries. She turned around with the
bottle in her hand. “We both came because we want to talk to you and Noah about something.”
Lily got a strange, dark feeling in the middle of her chest, and she didn’t need to look to feel Noah’s eyes on her. What on earth could they want to speak to both of them about? Lily swallowed. Today had shown that she and Noah had next to nothing in common.
She got out a plate for the chicken and a bowl for the pilaf that was finishing up on the stove. “And I need to stay for dinner for this?”
Andrew broke in. “Yep, ’fraid so, Lil. You got a corkscrew around here?”
Lily looked at Noah and raised an eyebrow, questioning. Whatever it was, Andrew and Jen were in on it together. Noah seemed to sense it, too, and for a second she felt a brief sense of solidarity with him. Considering their inauspicious beginning today, Lily did not have a good feeling.
“Try the second drawer,” Noah suggested, his face unreadable. “If not, I have a multi-tool with one on it somewhere.”
She couldn’t tell if he wanted her to stay or not. Surely not, after the rude reception she’d received both times he’d found her here. Her earlier thought about helping him more seemed foolish now. She opened the second drawer he’d nodded at and scrounged around, finally finding a corkscrew. She handed it to Andrew, who uncorked a bottle of white wine while Jen took out glasses.
“I recognize these,” Noah said suddenly, as Jen handed out the wine.
“They were Mom and Dad’s,” Andrew answered. He shared a look with Jen and smiled. “When you asked me to find you a place to rent, Jen thought bringing some things over from the house might make you feel at home.”
Noah stared at the wineglass, his lips a thin, inscrutable line.
Jen stepped forward. “We’re in the process of combining the two houses anyway, with the wedding coming up.”
Again Jen and Andrew shared a look, and Lily got that unsettled feeling in her chest again. It was plain as day Jen and Andrew were ecstatic about their upcoming nuptials, but the mere mention of the word
wedding
made Lily uncomfortable. It brought back so many memories, and none of them good. “Jen, can you put the pilaf in a bowl? I’m going to get the chicken off the grill.”
Lily escaped to the backyard, only to realize she’d forgotten the plate for the meat. When she turned around, Noah was behind her, holding it out, a dry, amused smile barely quivering at the edges of his mouth.
“Thank you.”
She took the plate and went back to the barbecue. Noah stepped up behind her, and she tried to ignore his presence even though she could feel him there. The air was different somehow.
“They’re up to something.”
His deep voice came from behind her, and she stifled a shiver that slid deliciously along her spine. “I agree.”
“Any idea what that might be?”
Her cheeks flamed, and it had nothing to do with the heat from the barbecue and a lot more to do with the intimate tone of his voice. “No idea,” she replied, sounding slightly strangled.
She put the breasts one by one on the plate.
“Hmm,” came his voice again, not as harsh but definitely speculative. “Lily Germaine, who seemed completely unflappable to me today, is suddenly put off her stride with wedding talk. Interesting.”
She focused on placing the meat on the plate. “Don’t be silly.”
And don’t psychoanalyze me
, she thought.
“I’m many things, Miss Germaine, but silly is one I’ve yet to be called. I know what a tactical retreat looks like.”
She put the cover down on the barbecue and faced him. Granted, wedding talk did tend to put her off the mark. Some disappointments left scars that would never be completely healed. But she’d never say a word to Jen about it. It was her past, her problem, not Jen’s. She was happy for her and for Andrew.
“I am thrilled for both of them. They love each other very much.”
She went to go by him, but he stopped her with his hand on her arm. “I wasn’t talking about them. I was talking about you. I saw the look on your face just now.”
Lily looked up, found his eyes serious. As if she were going to tell him anything. If she hadn’t breathed a word to her best friend, she certainly wasn’t going to spill her guts to some grumpy stranger she’d met less than twelve hours earlier.
“You know as much about me as you need to,” she replied carefully, moving away from the warm feel of his hand on her bicep.
“I doubt that,” he replied, following her to the back steps.
“And I know next to nothing about you,” she said, desperately trying to change the subject. “Besides the fact that you are very grumpy in the morning. Actually, not just the morning, it seems.”
They paused, she on the first step and he on the soft grass beneath her, so that their eyes were nearly level. Her heart thumped against her ribs.
“I
am
sorry about today,” he said quietly, and Lily knew he was sincere.
“Apology accepted,” she breathed. His gaze bored into her and she nibbled on her lower lip.
“The thing is, Lily, I never used to be this moody.” Once he admitted it he stepped back, surprise blanking his face. “I don’t know why I just said that.”
Lily’s teeth released her lip and she tried a tentative smile. “Maybe you’re trying to make a good impression?”
“I think that ship already sailed.”
Then they were smiling at each other. When Lily realized it, and also that they’d been standing there for several seconds, she straightened her shoulders. “We should go in, dinner is ready,” she murmured.
Inside, she pasted on a smile for appearances, though Jen’s glow eclipsed everyone at the table. Once plates were filled, Andrew lifted his glass, inviting everyone to do the same.
“I want to propose a toast….” He reached out and took Jen’s hand in his. “To Jen, for saying yes. To Noah, for coming home. And to Lily, for being her usual generous self.”
Lily’s smile wobbled just the tiniest bit as they touched rims and sipped. It was clear that Andrew and Jen were completely happy and it created a bittersweet ache in her chest. Andrew squeezed Jen’s hand and grinned. “It’s as good a time as any,” he said. “We came here tonight to…well, Noah, you’re my brother. I came to ask you to be my best man.”
“And I want you to be my maid of honor,” Jen added, beaming at Lily. They both looked at Noah and Lily expectantly.
Lily gaped; Noah looked down at his plate. After a few seconds of silence, they looked at each other. Best man. Maid of honor. Dresses and tuxes, cake and flowers.
At the thought of having to walk up an aisle in a gown…Lily felt the color drain from her cheeks. She couldn’t do it. Even as a bridesmaid, she’d be a complete fraud.
At her stunned silence, Jen’s face took on a stubborn expression that Lily recognized as her “I’m getting my way” look.
“I…I thought you’d want Lucy.” Lily struggled to come up with something to say to cover the confusion in her heart. She hadn’t been to a wedding since her own failed attempt. It had been easy to make excuses not to attend over the years. A conflicting schedule, an illness. She had never breathed a word of it to anyone.
But she couldn’t make those halfhearted excuses this time. Because right now this wasn’t about
Lily
. It was about the best friend she’d ever known, and she felt guilty for hesitating for even a second.
“Lucy is seven months pregnant. Besides, the one I really want is you.”
Lily had no response to that. If she were getting married—which she most definitely was not, not now and not in any future she could envision—it would be Jen she’d want beside her.
“Of course I’ll do it,” Lily replied, reaching over and taking Jen’s hand, giving her fingers a squeeze. “I’m honored. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.” She smiled, feeling as if she was breaking inside. “I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.”
“And Noah,” Jen went on, her voice soft. “You’re Andrew’s brother. His flesh and blood. It would mean so much to him. And…to your father, don’t you think?”
Lily studied him, saw the battle waging within. He blinked—was that a sheen of moisture in his eyes? She knew he’d never made it back for his father’s funeral. Had he even found time to grieve in the midst of all his troubles?
He gave a small cough and acquiesced. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful!” Jen bubbled over, taking a drink of wine and leaning into Andrew’s shoulder. “I told you,” she chided her fiancé. Then she beamed at the two of them.
“And, Noah, I’m sure Lily will help you, won’t you, Lil? Noah will need a tuxedo.” She winked at Noah. “Besides, women do tend to know what needs to be done for weddings.”
A lump clogged Lily’s throat. Of course she knew what needed to be done. She’d been through it all before. The anguish of seeing Curtis walk away from her before the vows had ever been spoken pierced her heart even now. And Noah…how was he feeling about being asked? He’d only just arrived home from the hospital.
Lily met Noah’s despairing gaze, her plans of a relaxing and complication-free school break suddenly out the window. What had they both gotten themselves into?
W
HILE
J
EN BUBBLED AWAY
about the wedding plans and Andrew broke in occasionally with news of the Rescue Ranch, Lily remained very aware of Noah on her right. He said little, instead focusing on his meal and speaking to Andrew about the horses he’d be working with. Lily was wondering if she’d ever get time to catch her breath. All she’d agreed to was delivering a box of groceries, and somehow before the end of the day she was maid of honor and agreeing to guide Noah with his share of best man duties.
“We set a date,” Jen announced. “The second weekend in August.”
“That’s only six weeks away!” Lily put down her fork with a clatter.
Jen poured more wine into Lily’s glass before topping up Noah’s. “We didn’t want to wait. And we wanted to have it before you had to be back at school and, well, at some point Noah will be going back to work, I suppose. And that brings me to the next question. I…I have another favor to ask.”
Lily’s hand paused on the way to her glass. “Another favor?” She tried hard to keep the hesitation out of her voice. There was no way for Jen to know how difficult Lily would find simply being her maid of honor. The woman was
planning her wedding after all. The most important day of a single girl’s life. The day that was supposed to come along only once in a lifetime.
“I want you to make my dress, Lily. I don’t want some off-the-rack factory dress. I want something that’s just me.”
Lily’s lips fell open. She couldn’t stop the rush of emotion at being asked. A woman’s wedding dress was the most important article of clothing she would ever wear, and she would only wear it once. Lily’s heart was touched by bittersweet emotion. “Oh, Jen.”
“I don’t know of anyone who could do this any better than you. We can take a day to go to Calgary to shop for materials. It would mean so much.”
She could feel Noah’s eyes on her, assessing. Lily had made only one other wedding dress before, and it hung in her closet as a white reminder of past mistakes. In one hour she had thought of her failed attempt at matrimony more than she had in the past few years. “Of course I will,” she replied quietly. “I’m pleased you would even ask.”
As she and Jen chatted about styles and material, Lily could see Noah out of the corner of her eye, providing a welcome distraction. The hinged salad utensils had solved any serving issue earlier, but she was suddenly aware of him struggling to slice into his chicken. He put down his fork and used his knife, but without his other hand, there was nothing to anchor the meat to the plate. Her eyes stung quite unexpectedly. Perhaps he had good reason to be cranky, certainly a better one than she could claim. Life for him was one adjustment after another as an amputee. Even something as simple as eating a meal had its challenges. It was easy to forget that when he was so full of pride and determination.
And she was sure that the last thing he would want was
sympathy. What on earth could she possibly say that would help, and not cause embarrassment or humiliation?
She took a breath and turned to face him. “Would you like me to help you with that?”
The table went silent. Lily wished Andrew or Jen had said something, rather than pretend not to see him struggle. Now they were staring at her as if she’d committed a sin.
Noah picked up his fork and attempted to cut through his chicken with the blunt side of it. But even Lily could tell that the breast was just a little too thick, and that he wasn’t as coordinated with his left hand as he would have been with his right. “Noah,” she said quietly, all the while feeling Andrew’s and Jen’s shocked gazes settling on her face. But she focused on Noah.
“I can manage. I am not some two-year-old that needs help cutting his food.” There was a hard edge to his voice and it was no less than she expected. And yet to avoid the obvious was wrong, and the only thing she could think of was to be forthright and honest.
“Of course not. And I would imagine you will find it easier when you get a prosthetic. Until then…there is no shame in asking for assistance now and again.”
He put down his fork and glared at her. “Again, I don’t recall asking for your help.”
“You need not ask for it to be offered.”
The look he gave her was so complicated she found herself entangled. It was amazement at her persistence and gratitude and anger and annoyance all bound together with a tenuous thread of vulnerability.
He put his fork and knife on the plate and slid it to the side. Without any fuss, she picked up his knife and fork and cut the remainder of his chicken into bite-sized pieces. She laid the utensils back onto his plate and gave it back, picked up her
own fork and took a bite of pilaf as if nothing had ever happened. It tasted dry in her mouth, but she was determined not to make a big production out of it.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
The talk around the dinner table resumed, but Lily couldn’t get that haunted look in his eyes out of her head.
After dinner Noah and Andrew went into the backyard with coffee while Jen and Lily tidied the kitchen. Lily looked out the window over the sink as she dried a plate. Noah stood an inch or so taller than his brother, his wide back accentuated by the taut fabric of his shirt. A curl went through her stomach when she remembered how he’d looked at her when she had offered him her help.
“Andrew is so glad Noah came home to recuperate,” Jen said, taking the dishcloth and wiping off the counter. “We weren’t sure he would.”
“Why not? This is his home.” Lily tore her eyes away from the view and looked at her friend. Jen’s lips were unsmiling.
“He’s stubborn. At least in that, he and Drew are alike. I think by Drew offering him a temporary job it helped. Noah’s so independent, he would hate to be taken care of.” Jen put the pilaf pot into the dishwater and turned to Lily. “Thank you for helping today. You really were a lifesaver. Juggling both businesses with wedding plans is proving a challenge.”
Lily carefully dried the wineglasses and put them in the cupboard. “Summer holidays are slow. I thought about lending him a hand occasionally.”
Jen smiled. “Of course you did.”
Lily’s nose went up at Jen’s knowing tone. “What does that mean?”
“It’s what you do, Lily. You make curtains and cook for potlucks and quilt crib sets.” Jen smiled. “Lucy told me about
the set you did for the baby. You do a wonderful job taking care of people.”
Lily tried to accept the remarks as a compliment, instead of with a sting. She had always been that way. There had been times growing up that her little touches were all that made home bearable. Times when it had seemed she was the adult and her mother the child. As a result she’d seemed mature for her age.
“Maybe so,” she replied, “but I doubt Noah would cotton to being ‘taken care of.’” Lily rested her hip against the counter and twisted the dish towel in her hands. “The only way he would let me straighten up at all was to insist he pay me to do it.”
Jen smiled then. “Like I said, stubborn.”
Lily regarded her friend with suspicion. “Of course I have no intention of taking his money.”
Jen stepped forward and put her hand on Lily’s arm, smiling softly. “Of course not. We could have hired a maid for him, or nursing care. He could have hired them himself, if it weren’t for his pride getting in the way. But that’s not what he needs most, Lily.”
Lily’s gaze was automatically drawn to the two men again, sipping coffee and talking, though what they were saying wasn’t audible in the kitchen.
“I know,” she said quietly. She pictured him tugging on his cowboy boots with one hand, so determined to do things on his own. “He needs a friend.”
“He couldn’t ask for a better friend than you. I know I couldn’t.”
Lily couldn’t resist her friend’s heartfelt words, and pushed away the sad feelings that had been resurrected today. She loved Jen like a sister. “Friends I can do. At least you don’t have to worry about us dating.” She folded the dish towel and put it down on the counter. “Remember, Jen, I don’t date
cowboys. I should also have said, soldiers.” She offered a cheeky smile. When Jen and Andrew had been working through their problems, Lily had made the comment about cowboys glibly and it had become a bit of a running joke between the two friends.
Staring at Noah now, though, she realized she had only been half kidding. There was a certain something about him that caught her attention—and held it. And that would be a mistake.
Jen laughed. “You and Noah? I can’t picture it. Two more bullheaded people I’ve never met. It’d be like mixing oil and water. If I know Noah, this situation is only temporary. Once he gets adjusted, has time to think, he’ll be making plans for his future. All I know is we’re glad he’s here now. Andrew needed the help with the stock and now he gets to have his brother as his best man. And this is a difficult time for Noah. It’s fitting that he should be surrounded by family. Right now, we’re the only family he has.”
Noah said something to Andrew and Andrew laughed, and then Noah joined in. Something warm flooded through Lily at the sound of the laughter. In it was a sense of belonging, of being included.
Lily’s gaze once again fixed on Noah’s tall profile. Turned this way, his injury wasn’t even noticeable. He looked strong, healthy, gorgeous.
She dropped her eyes quickly. No. That didn’t matter. Not in the least. Jen was quite right in saying they weren’t matched at all. And the last thing Lily was looking for was a boyfriend.
“Anyway,” Jen went on, oblivious to the sudden turn in Lily’s thoughts, “you handled him just like he needed tonight. He accepted it differently than he would have from me or from his brother. No fuss, no beating around the bush. He’ll appreciate your plain speaking, even if he doesn’t say it.”
Lily took the clean pot and put it in a drawer. There was
plain speaking…and then there were some things that just shouldn’t be said at all.
It was only for a few weeks. She could be practical for that long. Absolutely.
Noah grabbed the twine in his gloved hand, heaved and lifted the bale at his side. He staggered a few steps and put it down again with a soft oath and a kick at the golden hay. Sweat trickled down his back. It wasn’t so much the weight as the abrupt shift in balance he had to adjust to. He gripped the twine again, and lifted, this time planting his feet wider and distributing his weight more evenly. Once the bale was steady, he headed for the nearest fence in an awkward gait.
Working for Andrew was both a pleasure and a pain, he thought, as he cut the string and folded the knife back up using his thigh and left hand. He distributed the hay to the horses waiting most impatiently for their feed, pausing to rub the nose of a particularly old gelding. Andrew had brought this group nearer the barn for medical attention, rather than letting them graze on the sweeter, green grass of the pasture. Noah admired what his brother was doing, establishing a Rescue Ranch. If he hadn’t supported the idea, he might have resisted selling his share to Andrew last year.
But he’d thought he’d be a career soldier. He’d never anticipated being back in Larch Valley again. Certainly not as ranch hand to his younger brother.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen
, he thought bitterly. Not that he held it against Andrew; his brother had been great. But it was a temporary thing, only until he adjusted and got clearance to return to duty. For now it kept him busy and in shape, two things that would speed his recovery.
He reached out and rubbed the nose of the mare, Pixie, one of the thinnest of Andrew’s latest rescues. There was definitely
something satisfying in having the freedom to work away all day on the ranch, with the sun and the fresh air for company. It provided as much healing as the endless rounds of therapy and doctor’s appointments. He hated the poking and prodding, the endless talking about
how
he’d been injured, as if they expected him to fall apart at any moment. Treating him with kid gloves. He shoved another flake of hay into the corral. He’d made a mistake, that was all. As angry as he got sometimes, he thanked God every day that he’d been the one to suffer the consequences. It had been an error but it was his error, and his consequences.
Yet, that wasn’t what people saw. Even with Andrew and Jen, everyone saw the injury first, rather than the man.
His mind thought back to Lily and how she’d offered to cut his meat that first night. She certainly hadn’t given him the kid-glove treatment. He’d completely surprised himself in the backyard when he’d apologized and then explained about the moodiness. It was more than he’d revealed to anyone.
He didn’t know what was in store for him, but he’d spent enough time deployed to know that he had to keep busy and that he’d die being behind a desk somewhere. And yet the army of today tried to keep its soldiers in service. So where did that leave him? He couldn’t deny his abilities were compromised due to his handicap.
He shoved the last of the hay into the corral. Handicap, huh. He hated that word. Handicap, cripple, amputee. He’d heard them all and didn’t accept any of them. And yet he had no alternative word to describe himself, either.
Most of all he hated needing help. As he reached the barn, he sighed, absently rubbing the ache in his right bicep, the only part of his limb that remained. Not long ago he’d been a commander of men. From there to needing his chicken cut in pieces. He lashed out and kicked a plastic tub sitting by the tack room door.
“Rough day?” Lily’s sweet voice had him spinning around.
“What are you doing here?”
Lily looked pretty again, in a white sundress with some sort of stitching that made her waist look impossibly small. The slim straps on her shoulders set off her golden skin, and the wind ruffled the hem, drawing his attention to her bare legs and feet in intricate little sandals. Her toenails were painted a pastel pink.
“You really do need to work on your welcoming skills.”
“You surprised me. Again. You have a habit of doing that, you know.”
“No reason to shoot the messenger.”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed, looking her over with appraising eyes. She was a picture of femininity, and for a few seconds, he’d responded to her as a man would when faced with a beautiful woman. He’d flirted.