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“We didn’t do anything,” Eli said as he poured himself a tall glass of water then pointed at his own chest. “I, little brother, I did all the work on this farm, while you were gallivanting around Atlanta, living off Daddy’s money. Why’d you come back, anyway—to beg Mama for your inheritance?”
“Eli!” Cynthia moved between her sons with practiced efficiency. “I invited Dillon home, for your wedding. And I want you to try to be civil to each other while he’s here. Do you both understand?”
Dillon looked at his mother’s hopeful, firm expression, then glanced at the brooding hostility on his brother’s ruddy face. “Why don’t you ask the groom, Mother?”
“I’m asking both of you,” Cynthia said, her eyes moving from one son to the other. “For my sake, and for Susan’s sake.”
Eli hung his head, then lifted his gaze to Dillon. “As long as he stays out of my way. I won’t have him ruining Susan’s big day.”
“Thoughtful of you,” Dillon countered. “But, hey, I won’t if you won’t, brother.”
“I’ll be too preoccupied with my bride to pay you any attention,” Eli retorted, a distinct smugness in his words.
Wanting to counter his lack of tact, Dillon said, “Well, it certainly took you long enough to find a woman willing to put up with you.”
That hit home. Eli set his glass down, then placed both hands on his hips. “I don’t see you bringing any young ladies home to meet Mama.”
Cynthia clapped her hands for quiet. “Enough of this. Can we please sit down to have a pleasant dinner together? Gladys and I made baked catfish and squash casserole.”
“Why did you have to invite him back here?” Eli asked. “And for my wedding, of all things?”
“I wanted your brother here,” Cynthia said, tears glistening her eyes. “I wanted my sons to make peace with each other.”
Eli stomped to the sink to wash his hands and face. Then turning to dry himself with a dishtowel, he said, “I don’t have to make peace with Dillon, Mama. He’s the one who should be doing the apologizing. He ran off.”
“No, you drove me off,” Dillon said, then he turned to his mother. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay in this house. I’ll be at the wedding, Mama, and I’ll show up at all the required functions, but if you need me, I’ll be at Wildwood.”
“You can’t stay in that run-down house,” Cynthia said, grabbing his arm as he headed for the door.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Let him go,” Eli called. “Let him try to survive in this heat, with no water or electricity. He’ll be back across the road soon enough.”
Dillon gently extracted himself from his mother’s fierce grip. “I’ll see you later, Mama.”
“That’s just like you,” Eli said. “Turn and run again. You never could stick around long enough to do any good around here.”
“Eli, hush,” Cynthia said. Then she called to Dillon, “I’ll bring you a warm plate over later.”
Dillon just kept walking, and he didn’t stop until he reached the wildflower field. Then he fell down on his knees and stared up into the starry sky. He wanted to get on his motorcycle and ride away. But, this time, something held him back. This time, Isabel’s green eyes and sweet-smelling hair haunted him and held him while her words came back to taunt him.
What are you doing back here?
Maybe it was time he found the answer to that question.
Maybe this time, he would stay and fight.
The next morning, Isabel remembered just how interesting things could become in a small town. The wedding of one of the most eligible, elusive bachelors in the county was the talk of the small hamlet, so everyone who was anyone would be invited to the event. And those who weren’t invited would bust a gut trying to hear the details.
Isabel was scheduled to meet Susan Webster at the bridal shop on Front Street at ten o’clock. Susan’s mother wanted Isabel to see Susan in the dress, then they’d decide where to start taking the preliminary pictures of the bride in all her splendor.
Pulling her rented Jeep up to the curve of the Brides and Beaus formal wear shop, Isabel got the strange sense that the curious townspeople were watching her return closely, too.
“Guess I’m a strange creature,” she told Susan after hugging the other woman. “The radical free spirit comes home to Wildwood.”
“We gave that particular honor to Dillon,” Susan said, her bright blue eyes lighting up in spite of the wisecrack. “Did you know he’s moved back in the old house? Opened up a couple of rooms. He refuses to stay in Eli’s house.”
Hoping she didn’t sound too interested, Isabel tossed her long braid aside and shrugged. “Dillon always was a loner.”
“Understatement,” Susan replied, dragging Isabel into the back of the long, cluttered shop. Past the pastel formals and tuxedos that went flying off the racks at prom time, they entered the bride room where Susan’s plump mother, Beatrice, sat going over the final details of the bridesmaid dresses with a clerk.
“Hello, Isabel,” Beatrice said, smiling up at her. “Isn’t this exciting? My baby’s finally getting married, and to Eli Murdock. I’m so proud.”
“It is exciting, Mrs. Webster,” Isabel replied, bending down to hug the older woman. She’d have to be careful about keeping her real feelings regarding this match to herself. “And I’m touched that you both wanted me to be a part of it.”
“Wait until you see the dress,” Beatrice enthused, her attention already back on her job as mother of the bride.
“Wow, look at all this lace and satin,” Isabel quipped, holding a hand to her eyes as she looked around at all the dresses and veils hanging in the prim room. “So bright and so white.”
“Still wedding shy, I see,” Susan said, sweeping around with her arms wrapped to her chest. “Not me, Isabel. I’m very happy.”
Isabel eyed her high school friend, wanting desperately to ask her how she’d fallen for a cold fish like Eli Murdock. But she wouldn’t dream of saying anything to hurt kind, gentle Susan. “You look sickeningly happy,” she told Susan, her smile genuine. “You were meant to be married.”
“Took me long enough to notice Eli, though,” Susan said as they settled down on a cushioned sofa. “Imagine, all those years in the same town, then one day we ran into each other at the Feed and Seed….”
“Very romantic,” Isabel said, grinning. “Tell me, did it happen over the corn seeds or maybe the…er…manure pile.”
“Oh, you!” Susan laughed, then patted Isabel’s hand. “I’m so glad you’ll be taking the pictures. I insisted, you know. I told them you were nationally famous and we might not be able to get you for such a frivolous assignment, so I convinced Eli to pay you big bucks.”
Isabel didn’t hide her surprise. “Well, that explains a few things. I couldn’t understand why the Murdocks wanted me so badly.”
“Oh, they do,” Susan assured her, her face flushing. “I mean, Mrs. Murdock agreed wholeheartedly—”
Seeing the other woman’s embarrassment, Isabel shrugged again. “I understand, Susan. Eli wasn’t too keen on the idea of hiring me to take your wedding pictures, huh?”
“I can explain that,” Susan began, clearly appalled that she’d let that little tidbit out.
“No need,” Isabel replied. “Eli and I never did see eye to eye. But that’s all in the past. And if the request came from you, then I accept completely, and…I don’t mind taking some of Eli’s money off his hands. Now, show me this dress everyone keeps raving about.”
Ever the excited bride, Susan hopped up. “It’s so beautiful!” Then she turned to stare down at Isabel, a troubled look on her pretty features. “Eli’s changed, Isabel. Really, he has.”
“I know you wouldn’t marry him if you didn’t believe that, Susan,” Isabel replied softly. “And I do hope you’ll always be as happy as you look right now.”
Just to prove her point, she snapped a picture of Susan. And captured the tad of sadness she saw flickering quickly through the girl’s eyes. Had Eli already started causing worry to his young bride?
“Susan,” she asked as she watched her friend chatting with one of the clerks, “you’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?”
Susan whirled around, her features puzzled. “Wrong? What could be wrong?” Then lowering her head, she sighed, “It’s just…I’m so excited I haven’t been able to eat or sleep. I’m so in love, Isabel.” With that, Susan was off to the dressing room to put on her elaborate bridal dress.
Not good at waiting, Isabel got up to saunter around the shop. She’d brought her own gown to wear to the wedding, but some of the dresses offered here were quite lovely. Remembering her first prom, she balked as a vision of a young Dillon in his prom tuxedo, with a popular cheerleader encased in satiny pink by his side, came to mind. Isabel’s dress that night had been homemade, an inexpensive knockoff made from a pattern with some gaudy material her mother had found on sale.
It had been Dillon’s senior year, but Isabel had still been a junior in high school. Dillon had teased Isabel about her date, a football player who had a reputation for taking advantage of young girls’ hearts, then later that night Dillon had asked Isabel to dance with him. She’d promptly refused, too afraid of her own mixed feelings to get near him. And too obsessed with Dillon to let the football player make any moves on her.
“Get over it, Isabel,” she told herself now as she watched a bright-eyed teenager drooling over the many formal dresses crushed together all around them like delicate flower buds. She refused to think about Dillon Murdock.
But when the front door of the shop opened and the man himself stepped into the room, she had no choice but to acknowledge him. His masculine presence filled the dainty store with a bold, daring danger. And his eyes on her only added to the rising temperature of the humid summer day.
“Dillon,” she said, too breathlessly.
“Isabel.” He strode toward her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I see they’ve put you straight to work.”
“Yes. I’m here to get a few shots of Susan in her dress and to set up a more formal location for her portrait shots.”
He nodded, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Mama wanted me to get fitted for a tux. I tried to get out of it, but—” His shrug was indifferent.
The image of him in a tuxedo made Isabel want to drool just like a teenager. But she quickly reprimanded herself, and putting on a blank expression, said, “But your mother persuaded you to come in anyway.”
He nodded, a wry grin slicing his angular face. “You know the woman well.”
Isabel wanted to remind him that she knew all the Murdocks very well. Well enough to be wary of any association with them. Instead she asked, “How is your mother?”
Dillon hesitated, then decided to keep his family problems to himself, not that it mattered. The whole town would probably soon be talking about his renewed feud with his brother, and the fact that he’d moved into the run-down plantation house.
He shrugged. “You know Mama. She’s tough. And she’s okay, I reckon. Stressed about this wedding.”
And probably about having him back home, no doubt, Isabel decided.
Just then a nervous female clerk came forward. “Mr. Murdock, I’m Stacey Whitfield. If you’ll just follow me, we can have you fitted in no time.”
“Thanks, Stacey,” Dillon said with a winning smile. “Give me a minute, all right?”
The fascinated woman bobbed her head, then hurried to stand behind the counter, her eyes glued to Dillon and Isabel.
Dillon fingered a bit of lace on a nearby sleeve while the teenaged shopper Isabel had noticed earlier now had her wide eyes centered on him rather than a new frock. Isabel watched in detached amusement as the young girl’s mother shooed her out the door, the woman’s look of disapproval apparent for all to see.
“My reputation precedes me,” Dillon observed on a flat note. “Mothers, lock up your daughters. He’s back in town.”
“Should they be worried?” Isabel asked, all amusement gone now.
“No,” he replied as he came closer, his hand moving from the trailing lace to a strand of curling hair at her temple. “But maybe you should be.”
Her breath caught in her throat, but she stared him down anyway, challenging him with a lift of her chin. “Why me?”
He leaned closer. “Because if I chase after anybody while I’m here, it’ll be you, Isabel. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Snatching his hand away, Isabel busied herself with checking her camera. “I don’t have time for catching up, Dillon. I’m only here as a favor to Susan and my grandmother.”
“Right.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Angry at herself more than him, she snapped, “You can stop playing games with me, Dillon. I’m not the naive young girl I used to be. And I won’t be taunted and teased by a Murdock, ever again.”
Clearly shocked at the venom in her words, Dillon backed away. “I guess I didn’t realize you could hold such a grudge. But you’re right. And wise to stay away from the likes of me.” Turning to stalk toward the door, he called to the confused clerk waiting to take his measurements, “I’ll be back later, Stacey. It’s a little too confining in here right now.”
With that, he slammed the front door, leaving a stunned silence to follow him, and all eyes clearly on Isabel.
Chapter Three
She refused to feel guilty about what she’d said to Dillon. The man needed to know right off the bat that she wasn’t interested.
But, she reluctantly told herself, Dillon had looked so dejected, so hurt when she’d accused him of taunting her. She’d seen it in his stormy eyes just before he’d shut down on her. Then, he’d warned her away, as surely as he’d tried to draw her near. Now the whole town would probably be talking about the little scene in the bridal shop.
When Isabel went into the back with Stacey to tell Susan that Dillon had left, the bride-to-be was clearly flustered.
“What do you mean, he left?” a frazzled Susan asked poor embarrassed Stacey. “We have to fit him for that tuxedo!”
Stacey shuffled her loafered feet and looked over to Isabel for support. “He…he was talking to Isabel and he—”
“Dillon couldn’t wait,” Isabel explained, shooing Stacey away with the wave of her hand. Turning Susan back around to view herself in the three-way mirror, she commented on the exquisite bridal dress. “This is incredible, Susi.”
Looking over her silk-and-lace reflection, Susan soon forgot all about Dillon’s leaving. “Do you like it?”
“I do,” Isabel said, although she herself would have chosen a more understated wedding gown. All that pearl beading and lace seemed a bit overwhelming. But then, she reminded herself, she wasn’t the one getting married. “I knew you’d make a lovely bride. Now, let me just get a few candid shots of you here, and then we can talk about the formal portrait for the newspaper. You know, I thought about the wildflowers. How would you feel about setting up a shoot there?”
Susan’s excitement changed to worry in the blink of her blue eyes. Looking over at her mother for support, she said, “Oh, I don’t know—Eli hates those flowers. He calls them weeds.”
Mrs. Webster fussed with Susan’s veil, then nodded. “It’s true, Isabel. Eli doesn’t like the wildflower patch. It’s been a bone of contention between him and his mother for some time now.”
Susan lowered her voice to a whisper. “Something about it being Dillon’s favorite spot—”
“What?” Isabel raked a hand through her long hair to keep from saying something she’d regret.
“Couldn’t we do it somewhere else?” Susan questioned, her blue eyes big and round. “How about in the garden behind Eli’s house? He had it especially landscaped—that big nursery from Albany did it. They did such a good job, too.”
The image Isabel had of Susan in her wedding gown amid the wildflowers died on the vine. Eli certainly wouldn’t want his bride centered in a field that only reminded him of his unwelcome brother. Remembering how lonely Dillon had looked the night before, she couldn’t help the little tug of regret in her heart. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so nasty to Dillon earlier.
Reminding herself she was being paid to please the bride and the groom, and that she had to stand firm regarding Dillon Murdock, she nodded. “If that’s what you want, of course, we can do the shoot there. But Eli can’t see you in your dress, remember?”
“Oh, no.” Susan’s big eyes widened. “That’d be bad luck and we don’t need any more of that.”
Curious, Isabel asked, “Have you had some problems?”
Beatrice Webster pursed her lips, then started to speak.
Susan hastily shook her head to stop her mother, then gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes glistening. “No, everything’s fine. It’s just that Eli has this cotton crop to worry about, and well, he works so hard. And now, Dillon’s already started showing himself. I won’t have him ruining my wedding, Isabel, I just won’t. We only invited him back because his poor mama wanted him here for his brother’s wedding, and he doesn’t even have the common decency to try on his tuxedo.”
