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
