Separate Lives
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!
Chapter Fourteen
Despite the fact that she had already completed her morning run, showered, eaten a hasty breakfast, and hiked up to the Manor House, Trixie came to the end of the path with the same excited bounce to her step that had been present from the second she had hopped out of bed that morning. Honey's house loomed ahead of her on the early spring day. A grin of pure delight spread across her face, making her eyes sparkle with verve and anticipation. It was the first day during the wedding week that she didn't have going inside that house, helping Honey make frilly objects for the wedding or listen to the others discuss the wedding. The thought of the road trip was preferable. She would much rather leave the creative process to those with more talent, such as Miss Trask, Madeleine Wheeler, and her own mother, who would be joining the others in the midmorning to complete the few odds and ends that needed finishing. "Thank goodness," she muttered to herself, almost rubbing her hands together in pure, unmitigated glee. "If I had to look at one more piece of tulle or ribbon, I think I may scream."
A whinny came in the direction from the stables, abruptly cutting into her thoughts, and making her halt her progress. Honey had been keeping her so busy that she hadn't had a chance to take a horse out for a ride yet. It was almost unfathomable. Here it was, already Thursday, and she hadn't even put a booted foot inside the stables. After glancing at the time on her cell since she rarely ever wore a watch, she saw that she had more than enough time to pay the neglected horses a short visit. Without a second thought she changed direction and headed towards the stables.
The comfortable smell of horse assaulted her the second she pushed back the wide front door. With a mile-wide grin on her face, she practically skipped down the aisle, greeting each and every horse with a hearty pat and a whispered 'hello' until she made it to her all-time favorite. "Hi, Susie," she murmured quietly, stroking the silky black of the mare's head with a soft and tender hand. The simple touch made the years fall away, reminding her so much of her teenage years when the she had spent as much time here as she had in her own home. Susie showed her appreciation by nuzzling into Trixie, making her giggle. "It's so good to see you. I'm sorry I haven't been up to visit you before this. I've missed you so much."
Susie whinnied, stomped her foot, and nodded her majestic head as if in answer. Her large brown eyes stared soulfully back at her favorite person. Trixie giggled happily again and rubbed her face against the velvety smoothness of her neck. "I wish we could go out for a ride right now. I have to go on a shopping trip to White Plains with Honey soon. If we get back in time I'll take you out for a ride," she promised, resting her head on Susie.
Jim stopped in the doorway. The sight before him made his breath catch. A petite blonde, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a light sweatshirt, cuddling with the large horse. It was obviously a reunion of two who cared for and respected each other very much. He almost stepped back out into the daylight but decided against it at the last moment. He had come to the stables to do the exact same thing she was doing. Moving on silent feet, he came up behind and cleared his throat to announce his presence, correctly assuming that she probably needed a few seconds to compose herself before responding to him. "It sounds like you're having the same conversation I was planning on having with Jupiter," Jim declared, stopping by the stall. He rested a hand on the closed gate and gave Susie an absent pet. Susie offered him an affronted look, almost as if she was asking why he dared to touch her when her person was near. "I feel like I've neglected him this time around."
"Good morning, Jim," Trixie replied when she was certain her voice wouldn't come out as needy or breathless. Even with the surprising success of their truce, the first few moments weren't exactly easy on her. However, it was for a different reason now than it had been. She was smart enough to realize the truth of that although she wouldn't admit it, not even to herself. Her heart didn't beat with trepidation anymore at the prospect of running into him or, gasp, of having to engage in some kind of a stilted conversation together. Instead, it was beginning to beat with anticipation, a much more exhilarating and stimulating emotion, and one more reminiscent of her teenage years than the more recent adult ones. The knowledge left her in a bit of a quandary, the reason why she didn't want to acknowledge it. She wasn't certain which one was safer to her equilibrium.
Jim glanced in the direction of Jupiter, who started pawing at the door to his stall the second he sensed his presence, which was the closest way the proud animal would get to begging for attention. "Looks like Jupiter wants some attention, Trixie. I'm going over to say hi to my boy," he said with an apologetic grin and walked to the horse a few stalls down.
Standing on her tiptoes, Trixie peered over Susie's bowed head, watched as Jim uttered soft, quieting words to the impressive horse who wanted nothing more than to be taken out for a good ride. It had always been a pleasure of hers to observe Jim with the horses, especially that particular one. She remembered her ill-advised and ill-fated ride on him from that long-ago July day. An appreciative and admiring sigh worked its way out from deep within. Realizing that there maybe more expressed on her face than she wanted him to see, she quickly turned away before he could see it and began fussing with Susie's mane. Searching for something to say, to break the silence and also stop her from engaging in another round of untimely preoccupation with him, she finally settled on the simple, "Is anyone else here yet?"
"Only Brian," Jim answered easily. He offered the apple he had brought with him from the kitchen, chuckled as Jupiter made short work of it, and ran a hand over his head. "I have a feeling our leave time has been pushed back. Brian arrived about half an hour ago. My mother cornered him the second he walked through the front door and immediately invited him in to breakfast. She wanted to talk more about the wedding. He wasn't allowed to say no."
Madeleine Wheeler was like a locomotive when it came to the discussion of her daughter's wedding. Brian wouldn't have stood a chance at refusing. It would have been an amusing sight to see. The sedate, serious, and well-respected doctor taken down by an enthusiastic mother of the bride. "Surprise, surprise," Trixie remarked sarcastically, earning a lopsided grin from Jim that made him look more like a teenager instead of the successful corporate lawyer that he was. It made her stifle a gasp, made her remember the many times the two of them had spent together in the stables, either preparing for a ride or coming back from one. It made her want…she smothered the thought before it was finished, certain she could never see that desire come to fruition, and concentrated on Susie. Agreeing to a truce hadn't merely cracked open the closed door between them. It was doing a whole lot more. It took a considerable effort but she managed to focus on most of what he was saying.
"Tell me about it." Jim gave in and rolled his eyes. "I decided to skip out on breakfast myself. I grabbed a granola bar and glass of juice in the kitchen and came outside." He didn't add that he had caught sight of his curly-haired neighbor heading into the stables, which was the real incentive for his visit. The temptation to find out what she was doing had been too much. It couldn't be resisted. Not now, not when they were being friendly with each other. He leaned against the wood, crossed his arms, and added, "The breakfast could go on for awhile. My mother and my sister also managed to drag my father into the dining room, too."
"Well, if Honey and your mother have both Brian and your trapped…I mean, sitting with them in the dining room, then I have a very strong feeling that we may be getting a later start than expected." Her dimples winked with her sudden smile, causing him to suck in a deep breath. She missed seeing it because she reached behind to give Susie one last pat and moved back into the aisle, her hands in the back pockets of her blue jeans, completely unaware that the innocent move accentuated a few of her more enticing assets. It drew Jim's eyes to them before he made himself look directly at her face and not anywhere else. "It's too bad that there isn't enough time to go for a ride," Trixie bemoaned regretfully.
"I'm taking this boy out when we get back from White Plains." He was privy to Trixie's plans, having heard Trixie's conversation with the little mare. Clearing his throat, feeling an odd nervousness that he hadn't experienced in years, he opened his mouth to suggest that they take that ride together when Regan entered the stables, a covered plate in his hands.
"Well, well, well," Regan greeted them with a frown but his eyes were a twinkling, merry green. They always gave him away. He could never quite pull off that fierce countenance that he needed to make his point to the seven young adults who used to virtually live in his domain. Rocking back on his heels, being careful not to let the delicious omelet the cook had whipped up for him slide off his plate, he added with a hint of sarcasm, "Look who's finally remembered that this place exists. It's been a long time."
Trixie started, startled by his presence, and dropped her gaze from Jim. She couldn't shake the feeling that he had been about to ask her something important. Tucking back a curl still damp from her recent shower, she laughed nervously. "Oh, hi, Regan," she said, feeling exactly like she had that first time she had met him. "Sorry about that. Honey's been keeping me very, very busy. Believe me, I would much rather have been spending more time in here than doing some of the things that I have been doing this week." She offered him a tentative smile, finally noticed the spark of humor in his eyes and visibly relaxed. Even though she was just shy of two weeks of turning twenty-five, she couldn't help but feel flustered and fidgety in the groom's presence.
"Yeah. I know it's been a busy one for you. At least you've been helping Honey out with the wedding. I can understand that." He turned his fierce look on Jim next. "What's your excuse, Frayne? You haven't taken out a horse since Monday when you went riding with that nephew of mine, who's also been conspicuously absent from here. What have you been up to this week?"
Most people would have found it odd to have an employee talk in such a way to the son of his employer. Not Jim. The horses had always been completely under Regan's charge from the very first day he had been hired, which had been before Jim had been adopted into the family. Unperturbed, Jim shrugged a shoulder and allowed a tiny smile to grace his lips. "A little work but don't tell my mother. She didn't want me or Dad to do anything this week. We've managed to sneak in a little, though. It'll make next week easier when we return to the office," he shared in a conspiratorial whisper that had Regan chuckling. "I've also spent a good bit of time in contact with my contractor. We're going to be breaking ground soon."
"That's right. I seem to remember hearing something about you, Ten Acres and a house." Regan rubbed his chin sagely and nodded his acceptance of the idea, deciding that he would be make it a point to ride up there every day once the construction started. "Good for you, Jim. It's about time that piece of land had another home on it."
"Thanks, Regan." Jim let go of Jupiter, who neighed in protest, and walked over to the center of the aisle, joining the other two. "I'll be spending more time here to oversee the building too. I promise I'll make up for some lost time with the horses then."
"I'll hold you to that." Carefully, he eyed the two standing in front of him, considered his options and decided to go for broke. At the very least two of his beloved animals would be exercised. If anything else came out of it…well, he wasn't averse to pushing them into spending time together. "Since both of you have been rather remiss in giving the proper attention to our pride and joys here, I think you should make up for it. When are you going to do that?" He included both of them in his stare.
"Oh, I'm hoping to take out Susie once we get back from White Plains," Trixie answered immediately. "If that's all right with you, Regan," she tacked on when he didn't answer right away.
Just what he wanted to hear. "Any time is fine with me, Trixie," he answered, flashing her a wide grin, pleased with her answer and delighted that she had volunteered. "Susie has missed you terribly. I think it's a terrific idea. Jim here feels the same way about Jupiter, right?" Regan nudged him with his shoulder for an answer, intentionally putting him on the spot. As far as he was concerned, it was past time that the two stubborn individuals in front of him put aside their differences, whatever they were, and start patching things up. He didn't mind giving them a not-so-gentle prod in what he perceived to be the right direction.
"I was already planning on it," Jim answered easily, making Trixie's eyes flare wide at the thought. He made it a point not to look directly at her, concentrated on the widely smiling groom instead, but saw the flash of surprise on her face from the corner of his eye before she swiftly willed it away.
"Good. Then it's settled. When you get back from White Plains, I expect you two to give these horses some of your precious time and take them out for a nice, long ride. They miss you." Satisfied with the results of his meddling, Regan headed down the aisle, humming a jaunty tune the entire way. When he reached the doorway to his office, he called back over his shoulder, "You can start making up for some of that lost time right now by giving the horses some fresh grain. They could use it. I have to see about some paperwork, kids, and eat my own breakfast. I'll see you later."
Trixie's mouth fell open. She watched him disappear through the door, not so discreetly close it, which was unusual in itself since she couldn't ever remember Regan closing his office door, seriously impressed with the way he had managed to direct things his way. Not only had he neatly maneuvered them into sharing a ride together, alone, something they hadn't done since the summer she had moved out to California, he had also given them a chore at the same time. "Well…I…umm," she mumbled incoherently, words momentarily failing her, and bit her bottom lip.
"Don't worry, Trixie," Jim offered, throwing her a sideways glance and wanting to set her at ease. "We'll be fine. The horses know what to do. So do we."
"Yeah. I know." She cocked her head to the side, flabbergasted by the turn of events. Not only was she going to spend a good portion of the day with Jim on a shopping trip to White Plains, they now had a ride scheduled together, all thanks to one mischievous groom. Will wonders never cease, she mused thoughtfully before adding, "I'm surprised that Regan had it in him. He's never tried something like that before with us."
"It's got to be the Irish in him." Feeling like humming a tune himself, Jim cut down on the urge and motioned for her to move ahead of him. "Let's get the horses their fresh feed and then head back to the house. That should give Honey and Brian enough time to have breakfast with my parents. They should be ready to leave by then." Hopefully. If his mother didn't hold them captive in the dining room.
"Dan should be here, too. He's coming with us. We can't leave without him," Trixie inserted as she walked past him.
The mention of their dark-haired friend brought Jim up short on his trip to the grain. The odd way Dan had maneuvered Trixie away from the others the night before came back to him, as did the last view he had of the two. A stiff Trixie. A frustrated, potentially furious Dan. What could it mean? It was peculiarly interesting to note that both Dan and Regan had a way of manipulating a situation. Must be a family resemblance or that touch of Irish in their blood, he thought before he brought up his unanswered questions. "Trixie," he called out, waited for her to stop. When she did, he shared, "Di said something last night after you and Dan left Brian's. She thought that Dan was acting different."
Trixie felt herself straighten. Since she was near a window that faced out towards the driveway, she stood on her tip-toes, looked out as unobtrusively as possible but didn't see him. He didn't materialize out of nowhere to help her out. Cursing him, Trixie realized with chagrin that it was up to her to weather the first round of questioning. Shouldering the blame, indeed, she thought with an indignant huff. He already wasn't doing a good job of it. "Why would she think that?" she inquired carefully.
"Oh, I don't know," Jim responded, totally tongue-in-cheek, and one eyebrow arched high. "Maybe it's because he stalked his way to your car. Or maybe it was the way you walked. You looked very uncomfortable, Trixie. Or tense. We couldn't see your face but you were definitely experiencing some strong emotions. What was that all about?"
Leave it to Jim to figure out exactly how she had been feeling. Uncomfortable and tense were a few of the stronger feelings that had assaulted her. Trailing a hand along a stall, absently petting a sweet and pleased Lady, she offered the explanation Dan had come up with, "It's not anything serious, Jim. It turns out that Dan isn't a big fan of tattoos. He said that they reminded him of his time in the gang. He also took a leaf from Dr. Belden's book and grilled me on it. He wanted to know who did the work and that it was done in a safe place."
"Right." Jim mulled over her answer, astonished that Honey had been correct in her assessment. Dan didn't like tattoos? Somehow, it didn't quite fit with the man that he knew, that they all know. Like Honey, he would have voted Dan the most likely to get a tattoo out of their small group. A puzzled frown on his face, he wasn't quite ready to let it go. It just seemed…off. He searched her face carefully. "Is that it?"
Trixie felt the familiar tell-tale blush start to work its way across her face. Jim was staring at her, concern evident in his emerald eyes. Concern. For her. Good Lord but the truce was turning out to be more than she had ever expected it to be. Even the conversation they were having was easy and free, the way it used to be, the way it should…She shook her head, shutting off that train of thought.
"There's more?" Jim misinterpreted her shake, incorrectly thought that she was telling him she had more to say.
"What? Oh, no!" Trixie exclaimed ruefully, chuckling in embarrassment at herself. She cupped her cheeks with her hands, which she knew had to be bright red, and chuckled again. "I'm sorry. I was thinking about something else. You know me. Sometimes my mind tends to wander. No, there's nothing more. It was a pretty boring talk, all things considered. Really, all Dan wanted to do was lecture me on the risks of getting a tattoo." The lie rolled easily off her tongue, much to her chagrin.
"I didn't think Dan knew how to lecture." Jim's brow furrowed into thin lines, but not because of Dan. It was the simple statement she had said. You know me. The phrase ran continuously through his mind. A week ago he would have denied that statement, shot back a quick and rather pithy no, that he did not know her. He couldn't answer that way, not anymore. Not after the past few days. For some inexplicable reason, they seemed to have started down a path that was much different from the solitary, separate, stagnant ones they had been on for far too long. And, he reluctantly confessed, the more time he spent in her company, the more he wanted it to continue.
"He's not as accomplished at it as some others but he's not all that bad, either," Trixie replied with a generous roll of her eyes, amazed that she was actually teasing Jim, of all people.
Jim couldn't believe that she was making a joke with him, and only him, as the recipient. He rewarded her efforts with a laugh, well aware that he was one of the others who had been quite accomplished at giving her lectures, even though he hadn't given her one in a very long time. "You're right about that." He glanced up at the digital clock radio that sat on the counter and reluctantly brought an end to their discussion. "We should probably hurry if we want to get the horses fed before breakfast is finished."
"You're right." She saw the clock and hid a gasp of astonishment. Somehow the time was dwindling away. It astounded her to see how much time they had already spent in the stables. Quietly, they fell into step together and reached the counter. She bent down to retrieve a bucket.
"I'll get the bucket," he said, reaching for it at the same time she did.
Their hands touched the handle of the old bucket at the same time, his larger hand on top of her smaller one. Instantly, Trixie's body temperature started soaring, made her heart start to pound and her blue eyes deepen. She mumbled something jumbled, jerked back, and managed to stumble over an object in her path. Looking down in dismay, expecting to meet the uncomfortable concrete floor at any possible second, she saw that it had been his booted foot she had tripped over.
Instinctively, his hand snaked out, caught her around the waist before she fell, and held on to her. Tight. He tried to convince himself that he held her that tight in reflex, that he would have done the same for Honey or Di or any other female who happened to falter in his path, but it was lie, a great, big, fat one. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice hoarse and husky at the same time. He didn't relinquish the touch. He couldn't. It wasn't in the realm of possibility. Looking down, he saw that her head was bent, just below his chin. Her curls were still damp from her morning shower. The fruity scent of her shampoo wafted up, tickled his nose. That alone was enough to make his mouth start to water and to send him into sensory overload. Her breathing came in short, raspy pants. He was sure that it matched his own.
Her study of the rather plain floor wasn't all that interesting, not when she had him right by her side. She brought startled eyes up to his, not realizing that her hand was resting lightly around his side. If someone were to peek through a window, they would have sworn that the two were getting ready for a passionate embrace. "No, no problem at all," she stuttered out stupidly, her cheeks deepening with that hated red pigment Mother Nature had so generously granted her with. Amazingly, she didn't make a move to leave. She was trapped in the moment, incapable of intelligent thought, let alone intelligent speak, and more than willing to stay exactly as she was.
They were silhouetted like that for what felt to be an endless period of time but was really only a few precious seconds, each staring at the other. When Jim realized that he wasn't looking at her entire face any longer; was, in fact, looking much too long and much too hard at her unpainted and beckoning lips, remembering the far away time when he had had the right to kiss them any time he wanted to, he let go. That right wasn't his, not any longer. There wasn't any guarantee that the right would ever return. Because he wanted to touch her, and quite badly, he settled for hooking his thumbs in the loops of his jeans and concentrated on a deep, fortifying breath.
Severely needing composure, Trixie tucked back a wayward curl that had escaped from the thin black headband that attempted to keep her unruly mass under some semblance of control, and bent down to pick up the object that had started the whole fiasco in the first place. She held the bucket for the grain up. "Here." She cleared her throat when it sounded raspy and tried again. Her second attempt wasn't much better. "I've…ah…got the bucket."
"The bucket." Jim stared at it blankly before remembering their promise to Regan about giving fresh grain to the horses. Shaking his head, hoping to bring back some semblance of rational thought, he accepted it from her and concentrated, hard, on filling it up with the scoop, all without saying a word or looking at her. He wasn't certain what would come out of his mouth or how his body would react to her. Needing the distraction, pathetically grateful for it, he headed down the aisle to feed the first horse.
While Jim filled the first bucket, Trixie searched out a second one. She quickly took his spot the second he finished and started filling it up. The task should have helped her forget about their close call only minutes earlier but it didn't. After putting two scoops into the bucket, she slid a glance his way and watched him surreptitiously walk away, towards Lady's stall. It was only when he was nearly done that she remembered her chore. Whirling around, hoping he wouldn't realize that she had been contemplating him instead of completing her chore, she hurriedly scooped out the grain and turned to bring it to the next horse, all without meeting his gaze.
"I'll carry the buckets," Jim offered lowly when he reached her. He grabbed the bucket from her grasp before she could protest and replaced it with the empty one. He had to stay busy. It was vital. He had to give his body and his mind time to calm down. There was something remarkably calming about the simple, mundane chore, even if the object of his reflection was only a stone's throw away. "You take care of filling them up."
Normally she would have argued that she was more than capable of carrying a bucket and emptying it out. Today, she decided it would be more prudent to simply let him do it. Her senses were still on red alert. She hadn't regained her balance yet, was astounded that a mere touch like they had shared could throw her so far out of whack. Dumbly, she nodded and bent her head to her task, sneaking glances at him when she knew he was busy and wouldn't catch them. They continued their job in silence, working swiftly and in tandem. When all of the horses were fed, she put the scoop back in the barrel and closed the top. "I guess we should see if Honey and Brian are ready to leave yet," she said, satisfied that her voice didn't wobble and sounded relatively normal.
Jim glanced out the window near Jupiter's stall, saw sunlight bouncing off of a familiar black truck, and grabbed onto the topic with both hands. "It looks like Dan's here now. All we're missing is the happy couple. Then it'll be time to leave."
In remarked contrast to most of their time in the stables, they walked out in silence, both uncertain, hesitant and cautious. Jim kept a good, safe distance between them, which Trixie didn't try to breach. She was more than comfortable with it. Together, unaware that their steps matched perfectly, they stepped through the wide front door, out into the gorgeous spring day, and walked towards the dark-haired man leaning negligently against Jim's SUV.
"I was beginning to think that we weren't going," Dan joked when the two appeared. He wondered at the flash of red still visible on Trixie's face or why Jim seemed oddly quiet. His first thought was that they had been fighting but he had to rethink it. There wasn't any tenseness or terseness about them, which left an unanswered question for him that he wasn't sure if he could broach. What had they been doing in the stables? Dan frowned at the building and pushed himself off of the vehicle to meet them. "Even with you two showing up, we're still two short. Where are the soon-to-be newlyweds?"
Jim inclined his head towards the house. "I guess they're still inside with my parents. I skipped out on breakfast this morning."
"Ah. Wedding talk," Dan inferred correctly with a devilish grin. He slipped on his shaded sunglasses. "Well, since I was the first one here I call shot gun for the road trip."
Trixie wasn't about to argue that she had been the first one to the Manor House. Instead, she smiled weakly and nodded, more than content to sit in the back with Honey and Brian. It would hopefully be much better for her well-being. About to say something, she got distracted by the opening of the front door. "Oh! There they are," she called out, waving towards the couple.
Honey beamed back at them. Brian didn't seem to have quite the energy for beaming. He was wearing that pained, long-suffering, oh my goodness I just sat through an entire meal talking about the wedding expression that only a true groom could ever wear successfully and with true feeling. He threw a furtive glance back at the house, almost as if he expected the capable and aristocratic hands of Madeleine Wheeler to reach out and snag the two of them back inside for a lengthier discussion, before he grabbed Honey's hand and practically dragged her over to the safety of the others. "Have you been waiting long?" he asked, hoping that they could get in the car and get out of there as soon as humanly possible.
In years past, when things were more normal and simple between them, Dan would have responded with a teasing joke, something along the lines of Jim, Trixie and the length of time they had spent alone in the stables. He hadn't felt the urge to poke fun at the two of them in the longest of times. It stunned him to note that the joke was lying on his tongue, wanting to be said, but he swallowed it back, aware that neither of them would appreciate it now. In fact, it could cause the two more harm than good. "We haven't been waiting too long," he responded diplomatically, mentally patting himself on the back for his restraint. "I only got here a few minutes ago."
"I came here earlier," Trixie offered and pointed towards the stables. "I stopped in to visit Susie and ran into Jim and Regan. Regan roped us into feeding the horses for him." For some reason she didn't add that Regan had also cornered the two of them into going for a ride later. She chewed on her bottom lip, threw a furtive glance at Jim, and waited to see if he would bring up that little tidbit. Pure relief overcame her when he didn't.
"That's my uncle for you," Dan remarked cheerfully. "Always looking for ways to put us to work."
Trixie crinkled her nose at him and turned to Honey. "We finished right before you and Brian came out of the house. It was great to visit the horses. I loved spending some time with Susie."
Jim held his breath, wondering if she was going to mention the ride when they got back. If she did, he realized that at least one, if not all three of them, would volunteer to go with them, for a variety of reasons. When she kept that interesting tidbit to herself, he relaxed and focused on his sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law. With flickers of humor dancing in his eyes, he inquired innocently, "How was breakfast?"
"Oh, it was wonderful!" Honey gushed, smiling brilliantly. She tucked her arm through Brian's, unaware that her fiancé had not enjoyed the breakfast as much as she had. She had the ability to wax poetic about the wedding at any given moment. Brian, on the other hand, did not possess such a skill. "We went over the last few things that need to be taken care of. Mother, Miss Trask and Mrs. Belden are going to finish them today. There isn't much that has to be finished tomorrow, except for setting everything up in the garden. Oh, and we also have the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, too."
When Honey swung her large doe eyes towards him, prompting him without words to continue, Brian nodded in assent. "Mrs. Wheeler assured me that they have everything under control," he shared because he had to say something. There wasn't much else he could add since he had spent most of the breakfast sharing pointed glances with Matthew Wheeler.
Honey snuggled closer to him and giggled. "Madeleine. You're going to have to get used to calling my parents by their first names, you know," she told him, which made Brian blanch. The thought of calling either Wheeler by their given name was daunting even though he was going to be marrying their cherished and only daughter.
Dan clapped Brian on the shoulder, in jovial sympathy. "You can always do what Mart did. He simply didn't call either of Di's parents by anything for the longest time. He told me it was simpler all around for him."
Jim glanced down at his watch and fished his keys out of his pocket. "We should probably hit the road, guys. You want to do some shopping and have lunch at that new diner in White Plains, right, Honey?"
"That's the plan! Trixie is coming with me. We're stopping by the bridal shop to pick up my veil and their wraps and then I have to hit another store. You three are going to be on your own until we meet at the diner," Honey announced merrily and grabbed the door handle to the back of the car. "I'll sit in the middle," she volunteered and scooted her way onto the seat. Brian followed behind her and Dan, who had already staked his claim on the passenger seat, got in on his side.
Trixie ended up walking around the car to sit in the back, next to Honey and right behind the driver's seat. Right behind Jim. She tried not to be too obvious as she watched him take his spot and fire up the engine. Luckily for her, Honey and Brian were engaged in a murmured conversation and Dan was focused on finding the best possible station on the Sirius music network. It gave her a few precious seconds to observe him without anyone being the wiser. Muscled shoulders hidden behind a gray sweatshirt. Thick red hair that her fingers remembered the feel of all too well. A handsome profile. She dropped her gaze when Jim put the car into reverse and looked over his shoulder before backing up. She focused on latching her seatbelt and added beautiful emerald green eyes to his repertoire.
Needing something else to look at besides what was right in front of her face, she took in the inside of the car. Dark gray interior. Clean, without an ounce of dust or dirt anywhere. And it still had that new car smell. She breathed it in, appreciating it, and caught sight of the stables before the car headed down the hill. The recent memories were vivid and strong and included a few things she had never expected to experience with him again. First, there had been a free and easy talk between her and Jim, followed by plans to go riding…together. Most disconcerting had been the almost embrace brought on by the potency of their unexpected touch. She was going to have to really digest and examine her reaction to it. Never, in a million years, would she have predicted any of those three things occurring. Tapping a short, unpainted nail along the armrest, she looked beyond the wedding and wondered where the aftereffects of the truce would take them.
Special thanks to three terrific editors (my sister, Pam and bundysbaby). I appreciate all the help you've given me and your terrific ideas and corrections! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!