her of her mother and stepfather, before Harley had brought home his bride, Susan.
She steeled herself against the hate that flooded her. She wouldn’t think about Susan now. Wouldn’t think of the cruel things she’d said and done. She wouldn’t think of how miserable Susan had made her life, until Reggie had finally run just to escape the torment.
She was here for a wedding, she reminded herself. A celebration of life and love. She wouldn’t think about the past. Only the present.
Certain that the brides would be in the master bedroom, waiting to make their entrance, she slipped down the hall. She found them, just as she’d expected, in the room once shared by her mother and stepfather. The sight of the two of them brought tears to her eyes.
Wearing an ivory suit, Mary Claire sat in front of a cheval mirror. Leighanna, dressed in soft pale blue, stood behind her, struggling to pin Mary Claire’s veil into place.
“For heaven’s sake, Mary Claire!” Leighanna fussed. “Be still or I’ll never get this on straight.”
“I am sitting still,” Mary Claire snapped impatiently. “It’s your fault the dang thing’s crooked. Your hands are shaking like a leaf.”
In spite of her own nerves, Reggie bit back a smile. “Here, let me,” she offered from the doorway. “After all, that is one of the duties of the maid of honor, isn’t it?”
Both women whirled, mouths gaped wide at the sound of Reggie’s voice.
“Reggie!” they both cried and bolted for her.
The three met in the middle of the room, gathering each other in a tearful hug. Mary Claire was the first to pull away. “I knew you would come! I just knew it!”
Leighanna sniffed, dabbing at tears with one hand, but refusing to let go of Reggie with the other. “She’s lying,” she said, casting a disdainful look Mary Claire’s way. “She’s been crying for hours, cursing you because you refused to come.”
Mary Claire’s chin came up. “Oh, and what were you doing?”
“The same,” Leighanna replied without batting an eye. “But at least I’m not too proud to admit it.”
“Girls, girls,” Reggie admonished, laughing. “This is no time for squabbling. This is your wedding day!” Giving Leighanna’s hand a squeeze, she took the pins from her, then guided Mary Claire back to the chair. “Now let’s get this veil in place before y’all start pulling out each other’s hair and there’s nothing left to anchor it to.”
At that moment, the door flew open and Mary Claire’s daughter Stephie burst into the room, her crown of spring flowers slightly askew. “Mama, hurry up! The preacher said it’s time.” She stopped short when she saw Reggie.
“Reggie!” she squealed and threw herself at Reggie, wrapping her arms around her waist. “You came!”
Laughing, Reggie dropped down to her knees, giving Stephie a quick hug before leaning back to straighten her headpiece. “Yes, I’m here. I wouldn’t have missed this—” she glanced at her two friends behind her and laughed. “Rather, these weddings for the world.”
Stephie twirled for Reggie’s benefit, showing off her new dress. “I’m the flower girl and Jimmy’s the ring bearer. He’s a ’fraidy-cat and refused to walk down the aisle, so he gets to stand by the preacher.”
Remembering the purpose of her errand, she grabbed Reggie’s hand, tugging her to her feet. “Come on! We have to hurry! The preacher said it’s time.”
Reggie slowly rose, turning her gaze on her two friends. Drawing a deep fortifying breath she reached for their hands. She squeezed, knowing she had to prepare them in some way for what was about to take place, but not at all sure what to say.
“You’re the best friends a woman could ever ask for and I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” She swallowed and blinked back the tears that clogged her throat, thinking about what was to come. “No matter what happens today,” she said, her voice growing hoarse, “please know that I love you both like family.”
Before Mary Claire or Leighanna could respond to the odd comment, Reggie took Stephie’s hand and let the child lead her from the room.
Reggie stood behind the screen of ivy that concealed the kitchen doorway from the guests, her hands resting on Stephie’s shoulders, listening with Stephie for the music cue from the harpist. Hearing it, she stooped to press a kiss on the top of the little girl’s head.
“Remember,” she whispered. “Walk slowly and don’t forget to drop the rose petals.”
Stephie tipped up her chin, grinning at Reggie. “Don’t worry,” she whispered back. “I won’t forget. I’ve been practicing all morning.”
Reggie watched the child step into the center of the arbor and turn, selecting a petal from the basket she carried. With a wink at Reggie she dropped it then moved out of sight.
Reggie pressed a hand to her stomach, knowing that on the other side of the screen of ivy, at the end of the stretch of red carpet, her stepbrother, Harley, waited. What would he do when he saw her? she wondered frantically. Would he cause a scene? Would he demand an explanation for the ten years of silence? Would he even recognize her after so many years?
And Cody? What would be his reaction? What would be hers on seeing him again?
Before her fears could carry her further, the screen door opened behind her and Mary Claire and Leighanna stepped out onto the narrow porch, both looking radiant. Mary Claire quickly thrust a single, longstemmed rose into Reggie’s hand and nodded as the music cue sounded for her entrance. With a last wistful look at her two friends, Reggie stepped into the center of the arbor and turned to face those gathered.
She paused on that spot of carpet, flanked by an arbor of green ivy and baskets filled with a rainbow of roses, carnations and baby’s breath, her fingers clutching tightly at the single rose she held. Her gaze settled instantly on Harley. Dressed in a suit, his hands folded properly in front of him, he was handsome, achingly so, and the mirror image of his father, the stepfather Reggie had loved so dearly.
Oh, Harley, she cried silently. Please don’t be angry with me for doing this.
At that moment, his gaze met hers and for a second there was no change in his expression, then slowly, ever so slowly, recognition dawned. His eyes widened, his shoulders stiffened... her name formed wordlessly on his lips. Blinking back tears, she took that first slow step toward him, then the next, her heart crying out for his acceptance, for his forgiveness.
When she reached him, she stopped, daring to rise to her toes to brush a kiss on his cheek. “Please don’t be angry,” she whispered at his ear. “I’ve come home.”
His hands closed at her elbows, painfully so, cutting like steel vises into her tender flesh. For a moment, she thought he meant to rebuke her, to cast her away, as she had her family ten years before. But then his grip eased. She felt the tremble in his fingers as he released her, and she lifted her face to his. She nearly wept when she saw the tears that glistened in his eyes. He raised a hand and brushed it tenderly at her cheek as if to assure himself that it was not a ghost standing before him.
“Regan,”
