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Authors: Ginny Baird

The Calendar Brides (25 page)

BOOK: The Calendar Brides
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But Mason just ignored him and loped through the snow toward their truck.
 

 

~*~End of Excerpt~*~

The Christmas Catch

 

 

 

MUST-HAVE HUSBAND (Summer Grooms Book 1)

A girl in need of a groom ropes a bachelor in the wilderness, and brings him home.
A sweet comedic tale about love and taking chances. Based on a true tradition!

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Connie Oliver bent forward to pick the brambles off her hiking socks. A manicured fingertip caught on the scratchy wool fabric and tore. She peered up through the bangs of her short blonde bob. “Excellent idea, sis. Totally awesome.”
 

Linda gave an indignant pout. “Give me a break, will you? Just look. Look around! It’s gorgeous.”

Connie straightened in time to catch a fuzzy brown arachnid skittering up her leg. “Gorgeous, and full of spiders, ticks, and fleas!” she proclaimed, pulling it off with a pinch.

Linda watched her fling the bug into the forest then lifted an eyebrow. “Like those bloodsuckers back in Los Angeles are so much better.”

“Now, don’t you even go there. Just don’t. You promised. No man talk, remember? This was supposed to be a girls’ getaway.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. It’s just that if you’d seen Walt for who he was in the first—”

“Linda!”

“Fine.” She adjusted her baseball cap. “Deny it all you want. But you, girlfriend, have a talent for picking out losers.”

“That’s not true. I’ve just had bad luck.”

“Bad luck since the eighth grade?”

“With a memory like yours, who needs iPhones?”

“Maybe we should have recorded it. Might have avoided instant replays.”

Connie picked up her walking stick and moved along. “Like
you’re
such an expert,” she said, casting a scowl over her shoulder.

“I’m three years younger than you, and married, aren’t I? To a great guy besides, because I know how to pick ’em.” Linda hastened her pace to catch up, her long blonde ponytail bouncing. “Say… How about if Beau and I introduce you to—”

Connie hurried to stay ahead of her. “Another tomcat like Doctor Martin? No thank you.”

Linda threw out her hands. “How were
we
supposed to know Beau’s ethics professor was married with six children?”

“Ethics? Ha! So you see? I’m not the only one around here who makes mistakes.”

“One mistake, okay?” She narrowed her thumb toward her forefinger. “One teeny little mistake…” She hustled to keep up. “Will you
puleeze
slow down?”
 

Connie halted in her tracks and met her sister’s earnest blue gaze. “Beau’s got a cousin…”

“No.”

Linda’s lips turned up in a grin. “Second cousin, twice-removed…?”

Connie huffed, feeling beaten down by this entire affair. Here she was, slated to get married in nine weeks, and she was absent one particular item: the groom. Not that it was entirely her fault. She’d had him at one point. He’d just unfortunately slipped away. “I said, no.”

“Fine! Remain an old maid and break the family tradition. See if I care.”

Connie took Linda by the elbow, stung by her barbs. “You know, Linda. If I didn’t totally believe you love me… I’d swear you hate me.”

Linda’s expression softened. “Oh, Connie, I don’t hate you, can’t you see? I’m just worried about this predicament you’ve put yourself in.”

Connie’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t exactly ask Walt to walk out.”

“No, hon, of course you didn’t. But, can’t you see? That was four
months
ago. And all this while plans for your wedding have been steamrolling along. You should have told them by now, Connie. Mom, Dad, Ollie… Everyone.”

“Not
everyone
,” she said, referring to their sickly older grandfather, “and you know it.”

Linda warmly patted her shoulder. “If only I could help you face facts, then maybe you wouldn’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“Oh? And what facts are those?”

“You’re a great girl from a wonderful family, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from going after these tigers on the prowl.”

Connie twisted her lips and stared at her sister. Inwardly, she knew that Linda was right. Connie
did
have a talent for picking out losers, but she’d never done it on purpose. Perhaps she was just too trusting, always wanting to see the good in everyone. “Just what are you saying?”

Linda stared at her sincerely. “Simply that you wouldn’t know a decent man if he fell on you.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it, Connie. There are tons of great people out there. Really good ones.”

“Yeah, and as you keep reminding me, lots of bad ones too.”

“I’m not encouraging you to keep going after the bad ones. All I’m saying is you need to be a little more flexible, not so rigid in your expectations.”

“My expectations are the same as yours were,” Connie lied. While she truly loved Beau and believed him perfect for Linda, the fact was his staid, mainstream conservatism didn’t quite match her type. When Connie envisioned the ideal mate, he wasn’t tall, coat-and-tie and conventional, but adventuresome, energetic, and fun. The problem with the energetic ones she’d had so far had been convincing them to focus all their energy on her. Connie sighed, wishing it weren’t so darned difficult, this
happily ever after
thing.

“You know what Grandpa says…”


It’s just as easy to love a rich man as a poor man,

the two girls parroted together in a deep tone mimicking his, before bursting out in giggles.

Connie appraised her sister’s carefree face, surmising it must feel wonderful to have met her special someone. Beau really was ideal for Linda and obviously made her happy. Connie felt a flash of envy, wondering if she’d ever know that sort of relationship herself. “Oh, Linda,” she said, suddenly flinging herself into her sister’s arms with a sob. “What am I going to do?”

Linda wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. “You’re going to get through this, that’s what. The moment we get back to Napa, you’re going to tell everyone the truth.”

Connie sucked in a breath, not knowing how she could possibly do that. The news would kill her grandfather, and he had one foot in the grave already. The only thing that kept him hanging on was the thought of living to see his last granddaughter wear the traditional family wedding gown, the one that had belonged to his late wife. With Connie, the cycle would be complete, and everyone destined to don the family heirloom and be blessed by its magic would have worn the sacred gown. Tears burned down her cheeks at the thought of breaking her dear grandfather’s heart. He’d been so good to them all. It was a simple wish he’d held, not so unreasonable for a man of his generation.

She’d put off breaking the news to her family, hoping against hope the wedding might still go on. Perhaps Walt would come to his senses and realize she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But just before Linda booked this girls’ weekend, she’d learned that he’d already moved on. He’d not only taken up with someone new, he’d moved in with her besides. Connie released another sob, and Linda held her tighter.
 

“There, there,” Linda said, patting her back. “It’ll be okay.”

Connie pulled back with a wail. “I don’t see how!”

Perhaps Linda didn’t either, because she had nothing further to offer. No kind words of wisdom or even snarky comments. She just studied her sister sadly.

“I feel so horrible I waited this long,” Connie admitted, ashamed. “And now Grandpa’s turning eighty.”

“It might have been kinder to tell him
before
his birthday.”

Connie blinked. “You’re the one who was just saying now’s the time to fess up!”

“And it is,” Linda said surely. “The longer you let this go on, the worse for everyone it’s going to be. You’re going to have to just woman up and put it out there. It will be like a Band-Aid, ripping it off.”

“Ow!”

“But the sooner it’s done…” Linda held her gaze. “The sooner everyone will begin to heal. You included, sister. You’ve got to take this next step, so your life can go forward.”

 

Rugged mountain man “Mac” McCormack strode through the main room of the rustic lodge, carting his gear. The rucksack strapped to his shoulders carried a pup tent, bedroll, sleeping bag, and all the dehydrated foods an outdoorsman could hope for.

His best friend, Hank, and the owner of the lodge, addressed him from the far side of the reception desk. “Headed out already? I thought you weren’t breaking camp until dawn?”

Mac stopped and turned toward his friend, stroking his reddish beard. It had come in nice and full and slightly darker than the auburn hair on his head. It matched his fur elsewhere, though. “I feel a rain coming on,” he told Hank. “So I wanted to stake out early.”

“Speaking of getting soaked…” Hank leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “What did the insurance dudes say about your store?”

Mac shifted on his feet, disgruntled by the memory. “Just what I expected. There’s an out clause in my coverage excluding forest fires.

“Ouch, man. That burns. What are you going to do?”

“What I always do when the going gets tough. Hit the trail.”

Hank lowered dark eyebrows over chocolate-colored eyes. “If you’re coming back by Saturday, maybe you could double up with Kelly and me? We’re grabbing a burger, then a movie in town. I’m betting we could talk her sister Victoria into coming along.”

“No, thanks.”

“No? Just like that?”

“Let me guess. She’s a brunette and beautiful, with a teeny little…” He gripped his bottom, then cupped his hands in front of his chest. “And great big…”

Hank stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got a problem with that?”

“I’ve got a problem with all your setups, Hank.”

“Why?”

“Because the girls you pick out for me are the ones you want for yourself.” He walked away, whistling brightly.

“Hey!” Hank called after him. “She’s a redhead! Scottish background just like you!”

“Not interested,” Mac continued in a singsongy voice, making his way toward the door.

“You’re going to wind up a bachelor if it kills you.”

Mac stopped walking and turned slowly on his heels. “I’m not going out on a limb for just any woman,” he said, meeting his friend’s gaze. “She’s got to be special. You know,
have it
.”

“What’s
it
?” Hank asked with dismay. “You aching to hear angels sing or something?”

Mac considered this. “Maybe.” He removed his pack, set it down, and pulled a rain poncho from a forward zipper. Hank glanced out the broad picture window framing the mountains and valley.

“What makes you so sure it’s going to rain? Sky’s as clear as a bell.”

Mac slipped on his poncho. “Any man’s been hiking these hills as long as I have tends to develop a sense of things. Foreknowledge, some might say. Others call it intuition.” He shifted the pack back onto his shoulders and a satellite phone slid from his jeans pocket, smacking against the redwood floor.

“Foreknowledge?” Hank loudly cleared his throat. “Looks more like weather.com to me.”

 

Rain beat down harder as Connie and Linda cowered beneath the canopy of an incense cedar. Connie steadied the soggy trail map in her hands but couldn’t make heads or tails of it in the drowning rain. “I think we go… No, wait a minute.”

“Might help if you turned it right-side up. Here, let me see that.” Linda snatched away the map, and it tore in a jagged line down the middle.

“Great, Linda! Really super.” Connie shook out her dripping half of the page. “Look what you’ve done now.”

Lightning split the sky, and the girls huddled closer together.
 

“Sorry,” Linda said with a grimace.

“Try your cell again,” Connie urged.

Linda took it from her jacket pocket, sheltering its face with her hand.
 

BOOK: The Calendar Brides
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