Snowflake Bay (5 page)

“New,” Logan said, then grinned. “I know all about new and sudden life changes.” He clapped Ben on the shoulder. “Turns out some of them are pretty damn amazing. Who knows, maybe this will turn out to be an opportunity in disguise.”

Ben chuckled and nodded as he followed Logan out of the lighthouse and back across the property, toward the main house, and to where his truck was parked around front. His thoughts, however, weren't so optimistic. He honestly had no idea what to do about this recent turn of events. More to the point, he didn't know what he really wanted to do about it, speaking just for himself, and not his parents, or the generations of folks who were dedicated Campbell Christmas Tree Farm customers. He knew what they wanted him to do. Come home. Take over the farm. He thought about his life in Portsmouth. His company. How hard he'd worked to build it into something he could be proud of, and how that was all finally coming together in ways he hadn't even anticipated.

Come home. Take over the family business.

“Earth to Fiona. Maid of honor. Party planner extraordinaire.”

Fiona turned from the dormer window where she'd been watching Ben drive off in his family's company pickup truck. Supposedly she was doing her last-second brainstorming on how to approach her big sister about her change-the-date plan. Hannah and Alex had unloaded all the binders and magazines she'd lugged upstairs and were spreading them out on the bed, already excitedly chattering about all things wedding. Of course, with Alex being a newlywed herself, the two were both in their element.
So much for using Alex as backup.

Even so, Fiona hadn't given up on her plan, but her musings had once again been derailed when her attention was snagged by Logan and Ben as they rounded the side of the house. They were laughing, smiling, all hearty handshakes good-bye that turned into another round of back-slapping guy hugs. It was stupid, really, to feel the pangs she was feeling. She was a confident, talented, mature woman. A woman who took life by the horns. “Yeah,” she muttered under her breath. “Drop your guard for two seconds though and life gores you right in the gut.”
Or the heart, as the case may be.

“Fi?”

She looked over at the other two. “Sorry, lost in maid-of-honor thoughts,” she lied. The very adult things Ben Campbell made her think about were anything but honorable.

Hannah's beatific smile didn't so much as flicker, and Fi thought maybe what they said was true. Brides had a special glow. Like pregnant mothers. Lit by the inner warmth of an upcoming blessed event.
Gah
.

Fiona walked over to the bed and all the bridal flotsam and jetsam strewn about, opened her mouth to launch into her ill-prepared speech, then shut it again, and opted to sit down. This had to be sister-to-sister, not party-planner-to-bride. She glanced at Alex, hoping for a last-minute compatriot, but she had the same damn glow Hannah did.
Oh boy.
“So,” she began, ever-so-thoughtfully, “I've been thinking.”

Hannah's smooth, elegant features immediately fell. “Oh no, what?”

Fiona's eyes widened. “Why
oh no?
I haven't even said anything yet.”

“Because your old room is right across the hall from this one. I know you. And I grew up knowing that face. That's not an ‘ooh, I have an idea, let's put on a show!' face. That's your ‘so, you're not going to want to hear this, but' face.”

“Did you just call me butt face?” Fiona said in mock affront, half hoping the lame joke would rescue what felt like an already failed mission. Alex laughed along. Hannah did not.

Hannah made a beckoning gesture with her fingers. “Come on, hit me with it. What's wrong with the wedding ideas I told you about? Too stiff? Formal? Because I don't think elegance and formal have to be the same thing. In fact, I think—”

“I think you should wait to get married,” Fiona blurted out in a rush. Her statement was met by stunned silence on the part of both the soon-to-be-bride and the newlywed.

Hannah looked hurt. “You love Calder. Everyone does. Why would you—?”

“Not because of Calder, you boob.”

“Don't go flaunting your boobs at me,” she shot back, trying for the same teasing diversion Fiona had tried a moment ago.

“I can't help it if the boob fairy liked me best,” Fiona said, giving the automatic retort, but her expression grew serious and she shifted closer on the bed, taking Hannah's hand. “Of course I love Calder. I'm thrilled you're getting married. You should run to the nearest justice of the peace and tie the knot right now before he finds out what a tight-ass you can be about, oh,
so many things
.”

Hannah stuck her tongue out.

“How very lawyerly of you,” Fiona said mildly. “Do you do that when opposing counsel says something you don't like?”

Alex's gaze followed them like a ping-pong match. “You know, just when I think I'm used to it,” she said. “I mean, with Kerry I always know, because, well, with Kerry, when isn't she giving you a hard time? But with you two, it—I never know. You sound so serious, but you're kidding, right? This is just sister speak.”

Hannah and Fiona both looked at Alex, and then they both busted out laughing. “Seriously?” Fiona said. “Of course we are. It's what we do. I think of it as a finely honed childhood survival skill.”

“Speak for yourself, Fireplug,” Hannah said, grabbing the nearest pillow and flinging it at Fiona's head.

Fiona deflected it, thankful for the momentary block, because the sting of that recently resurrected nickname had surely been reflected in her expression. “You don't get to call me that,” she said as she batted the pillow and watched it bounce onto the floor. “And, if I have anything to say about it, neither will Ben Campbell.”

Alex laughed, but Hannah's expression shifted to a more contemplative smile as she leaned down, grabbed the pillow back, and hugged it in her lap. She gave her sister a considering look.

Now it was Fiona's turn to say, “What? It was one thing when we were kids, but I don't have to put up with it now.”

Hannah laughed, then faltered. “You're serious.”

“Damn straight I am.”

“It was a silly nickname, Fi. We were kids. You know he didn't mean it in a bad way.” She immediately raised her hands. “I meant now, today, down in the kitchen. I know he could be an idiot back then. Him and Logan both. They were teenage boys. They were genetically wired to be jerks. But now it's just . . .” She trailed off, lifted a shoulder. “I don't know. Like a cute childhood throwback. I thought it was kind of sweet.”

“Says the woman who Ben looked at like the second coming of PlayStation 3 and Christmas morning all rolled into one, with girl parts thrown in as a bonus. You'll have to pardon me if our shared childhood remembrances differ somewhat when it comes to the adorable qualities, or lack thereof, of Ben Campbell.”

Hannah looked sincerely shocked and perhaps Fi had been the teensiest bit too fierce in her rebuttal, but dammit, it was the truth, after all.

“He's the nicest guy on the planet,” Hannah said, as if it were simply a fact. “Even at his jerkiest as a kid, he had a heart the size of the moon, you know that. Logan wouldn't have latched on to him the way he did, and they certainly wouldn't have become like brothers, if he'd been an actual jerk.” She laughed. “I can't even believe I'm having to defend him. I mean, regardless of what you might have thought about him then, he left his thriving business to come home and take care of his sick dad, helped both his parents relocate, and has taken on the family business while still juggling his own. What about that says jerk? Nothing.”

“Yes, counselor, he's a virtual saint,” Fiona said, wishing she'd never taken the bait. Then she caught the considering look Alex was sending her way and little alarm bells went off. It was bad enough to be behaving like a thirty-two-year-old lovesick dork with her still oblivious sister, but the last thing Fi needed was for Alex to piece together the real reason behind her reaction and blurt that out. “Let's get back to wedding talk, shall we?”

Hannah held her in a considering light for another moment; then wedding lust won out. “Okay. So we all agree on the lovability of Calder, if not Ben. Why should we wait to make it official?”

“Christmas is right around the corner,” Fiona said. “That's, like, no time at all to put together a wedding. I know you weren't able to be involved in most of what happened behind the scenes when I did Alex's wedding, but she can back me up. Even a small shindig is no small amount of planning.” She held up her hand when Hannah went to interrupt. She'd learned early on. Never let the lawyer talk if it could be helped. “And, it's Christmas, Han. Do you really want your happy wedding anniversary to compete with the lunacy that is the holiday season? Don't you want your own special time? Perhaps one that's not also paired with ass-freezing temperatures and days that end before five in the afternoon? Remember how lovely Logan and Alex's wedding was? What a gorgeous memory to have.” She saw Alex's blissful smile in her peripheral vision and kept on going. “Not to mention it might give your wedding planner, oh, a minute or two to get unpacked, set up shop, and plan the event you and Calder so deserve to have.”

Now it was Hannah's turn to reach out and cover Fiona's hand with her own. “Is that what this is about? Fi, you know Calder and I don't want anything elaborate. We want a simple—”

“A Christmas wedding, by its very nature, is anything but simple.”

“Okay, true. But it doesn't have to be over the top, either. I mean, the holiday sort of lends itself to the pageantry, right? We are hoping for simple elegance. And by that I just mean—”

“No tacky bridesmaid dress rehearsal parties?” Fiona said, eyes wide in feigned disappointment. “I'm sure Calder's family would just love—”

Hannah grabbed Fiona's arm. “That's just it. They're—”

“Uptight. I know. I was kidding, Han. I would never do anything to embarrass you with your new in-laws.” She shot a grin at Alex. “It was totally different with Logan. We had no choice but to make it hard on him. I mean, come on, when would we ever get that chance again? And Alex was game.”

“They are some of our most favorite wedding photos,” Alex agreed.

“They are uptight, yes,” Hannah allowed. “Some of them anyway. But that's not what I was going to say. I was going to tell you this earlier, but we got sidetracked.” She paused, and for once, Fiona couldn't read her expression. When Hannah wanted to, she aced the lawyer face.

“What is it? Oh, no! Has Calder's dad taken a turn for the worse again?” Calder's father had had a mild stroke caused by a not-very-mild brain tumor, and though his recovery had been going better than hoped, it was still a slow and ongoing process.

“No. The opposite.” She smiled, but it still didn't reach her eyes.

“That's great news,” both Fiona and Alex said at the same time.

“It is,” Hannah agreed.

Fi frowned. “So why do you look like someone just told you that you were getting coal in your stocking this Christmas?”

“Well, we were planning on having the wedding at their family church in Calais.”

“Yes, I know. I spoke with the minister yesterday about setting up a time to come in and take measurements and do some sketches, so I can start working on the plan there. I like him.”

“I do, too. But, well, we said his father's health was the main reason we were having the ceremony there, but we all know that, while that was a concern, the real reason was it also helped to keep the two sides of the warring Blue clan apart.”

“But?” Fiona said, feeling that same ball of nerves Hannah must be feeling starting to knot up inside her gut as she realized where this was going. “You're getting married in the Cove now, aren't you.” She didn't even make it a question.

Hannah just nodded, unable, it seemed, to say it out loud. Then she rushed to fill the stunned silence. “It will make everything a ton easier for you, though, right? No traveling back and forth to Calais to do the planning. And it really is dear of Calder's family to want the bride to have her wedding in her own home town. I mean, I've relocated and done so much to bind myself to his family, and it's going really well. Far better than I'd have ever thought, if I'm being honest—keep this just between the three of us,” she cautioned. “And I think this is their way of saying thank you to me, and that they see all I've been doing and appreciate it, and want to show me they're willing to do the same.”

“So the St. Croix River Blues are coming to Blueberry Cove for a wedding,” Fiona stated, just to make sure she had this right. “A wedding that will have a bunch of Cove Blues in attendance by virtue of the fact that our families have known each other for centuries. Blues who would have happily stayed home if you'd gotten married in Calais.”

“Kind of,” Hannah said, in a very small voice.

“Not just Calder Blue,” Fi went on, trying to wrap her head around how things had gotten oh so horribly worse than she could have ever imagined. “A man who is loved and accepted by all here for saving us from—well, you know what from. But you mean . . . all of them.”

Hannah's apologetic expression was accompanied by the briefest of nods.

Fiona instantly beamed a bright and patently false smile. “Well, okay then! That settles the theme. Instead of Christmas, we can do something down-to-earth and homey with a sort of Hatfields and McCoys theme to it. Maybe little rifles and fish-gutting knives tucked into the table arrangements just to make sure we're not short on weapons when the real reception fun breaks out.”

Hannah smiled weakly and squeaked out a small, “Yay!” while giving a little
Woohoo!
finger wave.

Fiona slumped, all feigned enthusiasm fleeing.

“Fi, they're willing to do this. All of them. For me. Mostly inspired, I think, by Calder's sisters-in-law kind of ganging up on his brothers and dad, because it's in the Christmas spirit. They want to bury the hatchet.”

“Exactly my fear,” Fiona said dryly.

Hannah just gave her a quelling look. “It needs to happen, and this is perhaps the one holiday that might inspire them to reach a little deeper inside themselves and do what's right for the current generation. Calder's whole family is willing to walk into a place where there will be a whole lot more of the other side, in their town, on their turf, and extend the proverbial olive branch. There couldn't possibly be a better time for it than at Christmas and at a wedding.” She lifted a finger toward Fiona, silently warding off her response to that one. “I'm afraid if I wait, it will all collapse.”