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Get over it, Lucy.
Get over yourself.
Stifling a lingering twinge of longing for the dream, she threw off the bedclothes, went to the window and looked out. It was a beautiful day, cloudless and filled with sunshine. She smiled.
No more useless longings. No more doleful thoughts.
Surely clear blue skies were a very promising omen?
In Willowbank everyone was abuzz.
With the help of friends and relatives from around the district, Mattie’s mum had grown masses of white petunias in pots and tubs and even in wheelbarrows.
Lucy happily helped a team of women to unload containers of flowers from their cars and place them strategically in the church and the grounds, as well as the marquee where the reception was to be held in an allotment next to the church hall. The instant floral effect was spectacular.
After that, the morning passed in a happy whirl, much to Lucy’s relief. First, she met up with Mattie and Gina at the hairdresser’s, then they popped into the salon next door for matching manicures, and finally they dashed back to Mattie’s for a delicious light lunch prepared by one of her doting aunts.
During lunch the phone seemed never to stop ringing and all kinds of messages flew back and forth. Gina’s mum, who was babysitting the twins, reported that they’d been fed and burped and were sleeping beautifully. Nurses from the Sydney hospital where the babies had been born rang to wish Mattie and Jake all the best for married life. The caterer had a question about the positioning of the wedding cake on the main table.
Lucy had to admire the way Mattie seemed to float through it all. She was the most serene bride ever. Nothing bothered her or was too much trouble. Mattie had always been sweet and easygoing, but she’d never been as blissfully relaxed and happy and confident as she was today.
It must be love, Lucy thought, and she wished it was contagious.
Shortly after lunch, the excitement really began. Refrigerated boxes arrived from the florist, filled with truly gorgeous bouquets. Then it was time for the girls to put on their make-up, laughing as they took turns in front of Mattie’s bedroom mirror, the same mirror where years ago they had first experimented with mascara and eyeliner while they’d gossiped about boys.
Back then, Lucy, being older and from the city, had been considered to be wiser and worldlier. The other girls had looked up to her with undisguised respect and considerable awe.
How the tables had turned. Now Gina was married and a mother, and Mattie was about to marry Jake, while Lucy was…
No! She wasn’t going to tolerate a single negative thought today.
When they’d achieved their best with makeup, Gina and Lucy slipped into their bridesmaid’s dresses, which were simply divine. The palest pink duchess satin looked equally pretty on Gina with her dark hair and olive complexion as it did on Lucy, who was blonde and fair-skinned.
Then it was time to fuss over Mattie, to fasten the dozens of tiny satin-covered buttons down her back, to help to secure her veil and then to gasp in sheer astonishment when they saw the completed picture of their best friend in her wedding gown.
‘You look absolutely breathtaking,’ Lucy whispered.
Gina was emotional. ‘You’re so beautiful Jake’s going to cry when he sees you.’
‘Please don’t say that.’ Mattie laughed nervously. ‘You’ll make me cry.’
‘And me,’ moaned Lucy.
Already, at the mere thought of an emotional bridegroom, she could feel mascara-threatening tears about to spill.
Oh, help. Weddings were such poignant affairs. And today Will was going to be there, looking dashing as the best man. How on earth was she going to get through the next few hours?
Dressed in matching dark formal suits with silver ties and orange blossoms in their lapels, Jake, Will and Tom were ushered into the minuscule vestry and instructed to wait till it was time to take their places at the front of the church.
Will anxiously patted a pocket in his suit jacket. ‘The rings are still safe.’
Jake grinned and laid a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘That’s the third time you’ve checked the rings in the past five minutes. Relax, man, they’re not going to grow legs and run away.’
‘Jake’s the guy who’s supposed to be nervous,’ added Tom with a grin.
Will nodded and tried to smile. ‘Sorry. Don’t know what’s got into me.’ He shot Jake a questioning glance. ‘Aren’t you even a little nervous?’
‘Why should I be nervous?’
‘You’re getting married.’ Will wished his voice wasn’t so hoarse. His sleepless night was really getting to him. ‘It’s par for the course for a bridegroom to have the jitters,’ he said.
‘But I’m marrying Mattie,’ Jake responded simply, as if that explained everything. And his glowing smile made it patently clear that he knew, without doubt, he was the luckiest man alive.
Will wished he felt a fraction of his mate’s happiness.
‘So where are you heading for your honeymoon?’ he asked. ‘Or is that a state secret?’
Jake grinned. ‘The exact location is a surprise for Mattie, but I’ll tell you two.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’m taking her to Italy. She’s never been overseas, so we’re going to Venice, Lake Como and the Amalfi Coast.’
‘Wow!’ Tom’s jaw dropped. ‘That’s so over the top it’s fabulous. You’ll have an amazing time.’
Jake nodded happily but, before he could say anything else, the minister appeared at the vestry door and sent them a smiling wink. ‘Could you come this way now please, gentlemen?’
A chill ran down Will’s spine. For crying out loud, what was the matter with him today? Anyone would think he was the one getting married, or that they were criminals being led to the dock.
‘All the best, mate,’ he whispered gruffly to Jake.
‘Thanks.’
The two friends shook hands, then headed through the little doorway that led into the church, where an incredible transformation had occurred.
Not only was the place packed to the rafters with people dressed in their best finery, but there were flowers and white ribbons everywhere—dangling from the ends of pews, wound around columns, adorning windowsills and filling vases, large and small.
And there was organ music, billowing and rippling like the background music in a sentimental movie. Will tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Why was it that weddings were designed to zero straight in on unsuspecting emotions?
He glanced at Jake and saw his Adam’s apple jerk.
‘You OK?’ he whispered out of the side of his mouth.
‘I’ll be fine once Mattie gets here.’
‘She won’t be late,’ Will reassured him and again he nervously patted the rings in his pocket.
There was a flurry in the little porch at the back of the church and, as if everyone had been choreographed, the congregation turned. Will felt fine hairs lift on the back of his neck. His stomach tightened.
The girls appeared in a misty mirage of white and pink. Will blinked. Lucy, Gina and Mattie looked incredibly out-of-this-world beautiful in long feminine dresses and glamorous hairstyles, and with their arms filled with flowers.
He heard Jake catch his breath, felt goose-bumps lift on his arms.
The organist struck a dramatic chord.
Lucy and Gina, apparently satisfied with their arrangement of Mattie’s dress and veil, took their places in front of her, Lucy first.
Will couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t trembling.
Lucy stood, shoulders back, looking straight ahead, with her blonde head high, her blue eyes smiling. To Will she looked vulnerable and yet resolute and his heart began to thunder loudly.
It was so weird.
He’d seen countless weddings and endless processions of bridesmaids, but none of them had made him feel the way he felt now as the organist began to play and Lucy began to walk down the aisle with her smile carefully in place.
She’d always tried to pretend she was a tomboy, keeping her hair short and wispy and preferring to live in T-shirts and jeans, but today nothing could hide her femininity.
Her pastel off-the-shoulders dress and the soft pink lilies in her arms highlighted the paleness of her hair, the honey-gold tints in her skin, the pink lushness of her lips. She had never looked lovelier.
Except perhaps…that one night on a shadowy veranda, when she’d turned to him with tears in her eyes…
He willed her to look at him. Just one glance would do. For old friendship’s sake. He wanted eye contact, needed to send her one smile, longed for one tiny link with her.
Come on, look this way, Lucy.
She smiled at the people in the congregation, at her particular friends, at Jake, but her gaze didn’t flicker any further to the right. It was clear she did not want to see Will.
Or, perhaps, she simply felt no need.
CHAPTER THREE
LUCY’S eyes were distinctly misty as she watched Mattie and Jake dance the bridal waltz. They looked so happy together and so deeply in love. She was sure everyone watching them felt misty-eyed too.
It had been an utterly perfect wedding.
The beautiful ceremony had been followed by a happy procession across Willowbank’s main street to the marquee where the reception was held. Champagne flowed, a string quartet played glorious music and the guests were served delectable food.
Jake’s speech had been heartfelt and touching and Will’s toast was appropriately witty, although he went embarrassingly over the top with his praise for the bridesmaids. Lucy had felt her face flame when curious eyes had swung in her direction and the cutting of the cake had been a welcome distraction.
Everyone had broken into spontaneous cheering for Mattie and Jake, and Lucy was thrilled. The wedding couldn’t have been happier.
She was relieved that she’d survived without making a fool of herself. Which mostly meant avoiding Will—a tall order given that her eyes had developed a habit of sneaking in his direction whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. She’d tried so hard to ignore him, but she’d always thought he was the best-looking guy ever.
She could still remember the day she’d first met him as a schoolboy down by Willow Creek, crouched at the edge of the water.
Even viewing him from behind, he’d been beautiful.
He’d taken his shirt off and he’d been squatting, reaching down, panning for gold in the water. Sunlight breaking through overhead trees had lent an extra sheen to his dark brown hair and to the smooth golden-brown skin on his back.
Lucy hadn’t been able to help staring. His shoulders were wide, his hips narrow, his limbs long—the build of a swimmer.
Now, so many years later, he was even more irresistible in his dark formal attire. Lucy kept finding things she needed to check out—the manly jut of his jaw above the crisp collar, the neat line of his dark hair across the back of his neck, the stunning breadth of his shoulders in the stylish suit jacket…
Sigh…
Despite the wedding’s perfection, the evening had been a huge strain and she was worn out.
She’d kicked off her high heeled shoes and they were now stowed under the table. She was thinking rather fondly about the end of the night when she could head for home. It would be so nice to greet her dogs, then curl up in bed with a glass of water and a headache tablet.
Tom leaned towards her. ‘Lucy, it’s our turn to dance.’
She winced. ‘Is it really?’
Tom was already on his feet. ‘Come on. Gina and Will are already up. You know the wedding party is expected to take a twirl on the dance floor.’
Bother. She’d forgotten about that. She suppressed a sigh as she fished beneath the table for her shoes. Ouch. They pinched as she squeezed back into them.
She looked over at the dance floor and saw that Tom was right. Gina was already dancing with Will and, for no reason that made sense, her silly heart began to trip and stumble.
‘Lead the way,’ she told Tom resolutely, slipping her arm through his. Thank heavens he was a reliable old friend. At least she could dance with Tom till the cows came home without being attacked by dangerous palpitations.
Unfortunately, Tom didn’t seem to be quite so enamoured with her as his dancing partner. At the end of the bracket, other couples joined them on the dance floor and Tom leaned close to her ear. ‘Would you mind if I asked Gina for a dance?’
‘Of course I don’t mind.’ She took a step back to prove it. ‘Please, go ahead. You must dance with your wife.’
Tom happily tapped Will on the back and Lucy retreated to the edge of the timber dance floor. Over her shoulder, she watched the men’s brief smiling exchange. She saw Will’s nod and her heart began to race as she guessed what might happen next.
It was logical—a common courtesy for Will to ask her to dance—but there were times when logic and courtesy flew out of the window. Times like now, when her out of date, unhelpful feelings for Will made simple things complicated.
On the surface, one quick dance with an old friend should have been a piece of cake. But on a super-romantic night like tonight, Lucy was trembling at the very thought of dancing publicly in Will Carruthers’s arms.
She couldn’t help thinking about that kiss all those years ago, when she’d made a fool of herself at Will’s farewell party. She turned, planning to hurry back to her place at the table.
‘Lucy!’
Will’s voice sounded close behind her and she froze.
‘I won’t let you escape that easily.’ His tone held a thread of humour, but there was also a note of command that was hard to ignore.
His hand brushed her wrist and the touch was like a firebrand. Lucy was helpless as his fingers enclosed around her, as he pulled her gently but decisively towards him. ‘Come on,’ he urged. ‘We’ve got to have one dance.’
He made it sound easy, but when she looked into his cool grey eyes she was surprised to see a cautious edge to his smile, as if he wasn’t quite as confident as he sounded. Which didn’t help her to relax.
A number of wedding guests were watching them, however, and the last thing she wanted was a scene.
‘One dance?’ Lucy forced lightness into her voice. ‘Why not?’ She managed a smile. No way did she want to give the impression she was trying to dodge Will. One dance was no problem at all. She would dance with him till her feet fell off.
Will led her back onto the dance floor.
Gulp.
As soon as he placed one hand at her back and took her other hand in his, she knew this wasn’t going to be any version of easy. She drew a jagged breath.
