The Marriage Conspiracy. Christine Rimmer

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raise and a business to run—not to mention a recently delinquent thirteen-year-old sister and a stunningly beautiful fifty-year-old widowed mother who somehow managed to fall in and out of love on what seemed like a weekly basis. DeDe might be off her hands after today, but Niki and her mother still counted on Joleen to be there whenever they needed her.

      And really, Joleen didn’t mind being the one they counted on. She was happy. She honestly was. With her precious little son and her beloved if somewhat troublesome mama and sisters, with the beauty salon she and her mother operated together and with lots of loving family and good friends—including Dekker, who in the past few years had become her closest friend.

      Dekker, who was now so late she doubted he would make it at all.

      Nope. It would not be Joleen’s turn next. Not for a decade or so, at least. Maybe more than a decade. Maybe never. In any case, not “next.”

      But she didn’t tell her aunt LeeAnne that. Instead, she hooked her arm around her aunt’s round shoulders and gave a loving squeeze. “Whatever you say.”

      By three-thirty, Joleen decided they had waited long enough. She left the drooping guests behind beneath the pecan trees, entered the house and climbed the stairs to her mother’s big bedroom on the second floor, which today was serving as the bride’s dressing room.

      DeDe, who looked absolutely breathtaking in floor-length white satin, came at her the minute Joleen appeared in the doorway. “Where is he? Is he here yet?”

      Joleen shook her head.

      “Oh, no.” DeDe stopped in midstride and caught her full lower lip between her small white teeth. “How’s Wayne holdin’ up?”

      Wayne Thornton was DeDe’s groom. “Wayne is great. He’s down in the kitchen right now, hanging out with Bud and Burly.”

      “He’s not mad?”

      “Wayne? Are you kidding?” Wayne Thornton was a veterinarian. He was also about the calmest, most easygoing person Joleen had ever had the pleasure to meet. “I promise you, Wayne is fine. Waiting patiently, swapping jokes with Bud and Burly.”

      “I want to see him.”

      “Well, all right, I’ll just—”

      “Wait. Stop right there.”

      Joleen did as her sister commanded.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” DeDe accused. “You know I can’t see him. It would be bad luck.”

      Joleen lifted a shoulder in the tiniest of shrugs. Of course, she knew that. But if she’d been the one to say it, her sister would have insisted that Joleen run down-stairs that instant and come right back up with Wayne. Like Niki, DeDe had had some troubled times in the past. She’d settled down a lot in the last couple of years, but she hadn’t gotten rid of her stubborn streak, of a certain contrariness to her nature. Joleen never locked horns with her if she could avoid it. Locking horns with DeDe almost never paid off.

      DeDe sighed. “I’m goin’ nuts.” She whirled in a rustle of satin, flounced to their mother’s big four-poster bed, turned and plunked herself down on the edge of it. “Where is Dekker?”

      Joleen approached and sat beside her sister. She took DeDe’s hand. “Honey…”

      DeDe yanked her hand away. “Don’t say it. He promised he would be here and we are gonna wait for him.”

      “Honey, we have waited. For over an hour. You have to think of your guests. They are dyin’ out there.”

      “Well, I can’t help it. It wouldn’t be right to start without Dekker. You know that it wouldn’t.”

      Joleen had no quick comeback for that.

      The problem was, in her heart, Joleen agreed with DeDe. It wouldn’t be right to start without Dekker.

      Dekker Smith might not be blood to them, but he truly was family. His mama, Lorraine, had been their mama’s best friend. Lorraine was gone now, and Dekker hadn’t lived next door since he graduated high school, but he looked out for them all, especially in the past ten years, since Joleen’s father had died.

      Dekker spent his holidays with them. He had been the one who taught both Joleen and DeDe how to drive. He could always be counted upon to show up with his toolbox when something needed fixing—not to mention to stand up for any female named Tilly any time things got rough. Two years ago, when DeDe had her little run-in with the law, Dekker had gone with Joleen to the police station to bail her out and he’d made sure she got the best lawyer around. Same thing with Niki, when she’d been in trouble last year. Dekker was right there, to help out.

      He was family in the deepest way, and of course DeDe wanted him there to see her married.

      But they couldn’t wait all day to start the wedding march. “DeDe, I think we are just going to have to go ahead.”

      “But we can’t go ahead,” DeDe cried.

      “Yes, we can. And you know that Dekker will understand. You know that he—”

      “I won’t understand. Don’t you get it? I want Dekker to give me away.”

      “Well, I know you do, but he is not here.”

      DeDe glared. “Oh, you, Joly. Always so logical. I cannot stand to hear logic at a time like this.”

      “Well, I am so sorry to be reasonable when you would rather not, but—”

      DeDe cut her off by bursting into tears.

      Joleen closed her eyes and silently counted to ten.

      When she opened them again, she saw her mother, Camilla, hovering in the doorway to the hall. “What is it, baby? What has happened here?”

      “Joly says we have to go ahead.” DeDe sobbed. “She says we can’t wait for Dekker.”

      “Oh, now, honey…”

      “I want him here, Mama. I want him to give me away.”

      “Yes, and we all understand that.”

      “It won’t seem right if he isn’t here.”

      “Oh, I know, I know…”

      DeDe let out a frustrated wail. The cry brought Camilla out of the doorway. She rushed across the room, slender arms outstretched. Joleen slid to the side and got out of the way. DeDe stood. Camilla gathered her close.

      “Aw, baby,” Camilla cooed. “Now, you know you are going to ruin your face, carrying on like this. Now, you just settle down….”

      But DeDe was not settling down.

      And Camilla had started crying, too. Tears filled her huge brown eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Sobs constricted her long white throat. Joleen backed away a few more steps, as her middle sister and her mother held on to each other and wailed.

      “Honey, honey,” Camilla cried. “Don’t you worry.

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