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Unexpected Bride
Lisa Childs
With great appreciation to Jennifer Green for
encouraging me to write a Harlequin American
Romance proposal, and to Kathleen Scheibling for
accepting that proposal for THE WEDDING PARTY
series, and to all the brides who included me in their
wedding parties.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Clayton McClintock pressed his cell phone to his ear. “I’m going to be late,” he told his date, as he studied the flight schedule posted in the terminal. All the flights were on time but one. Hers. It figured. Conversation swirled around him as people rushed through the arrival gates and met those waiting for them in the lounge area.
On his phone there was dead silence. He pulled the cell from his ear to study its small screen, but his call hadn’t been lost. “Ellen, are you there?” he asked.
“Yes,” was the reply, in a tone of long-suffering patience, followed by a sigh reminiscent of the dramatic ones his sisters had subjected him to in their teens. “This isn’t working, Clayton. You stand me up more often than you see me.”
He sighed, too—with frustration. “Things have been crazy with my sister’s wedding stuff.” Writing checks, that had been his primary duty. And then he’d been pressed into playing chauffeur. Everyone else was busy with the rehearsal this afternoon.
He glanced at his watch. If Abby’s flight was any later, they’d miss dinner as well as the activities at the church. His plan had been to pick up his date after the rehearsal and bring her with him to the dinner. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to set aside his own plans for the sake of his family, though.
“Things have been crazy,” Ellen agreed. “And your brother…”
Rory, who was in his teens, was going through a difficult time right now, also reminding Clayton of her. But she was hardly a teenager anymore. People grew up and matured—probably even Abby Hamilton. Clayton had to believe that Rory would do the same, provided his big brother didn’t kill him first.
“It’s always something with your family, Clayton,” Ellen said. “You never have time for me.”
He couldn’t argue with her. He didn’t have time for himself, either. Not with his job and his brother and sisters and his mom. How had his dad managed everything? Clayton had taken over family responsibilities eight years ago, and he had yet to figure out how to handle everything his father had managed so effortlessly. He lifted a hand and wiped it over his eyes. He was tired.
“I’ve known for some time that it wasn’t going to work out, Clayton. So don’t bother calling me anymore.”
“My sister’s getting married tomorrow.” That would take care of one responsibility. “Things will get better then.”
“How? Is she taking your mom and sister and brother with her? You don’t have room in your life for me or for any woman, Clayton. I’m sorry.”
The phone clicked and the call ended, not because of a faulty connection but because of a lack of a romantic connection. And except for going stag to the rehearsal dinner and the wedding, he wasn’t even too upset. Clayton hadn’t dated anyone long enough to say that he’d ever had a serious relationship. He blew out a ragged breath of relief. He didn’t want a serious relationship because it was just one more responsibility he didn’t need.
Waiting in an airport for Abby was bad enough. How like her to fly in at the last moment. Some bridesmaid she’d turned out to be. Fortunately Molly had asked her longtime friend, Brenna Kelly, to be maid of honor. Clayton couldn’t imagine Abby handling the responsibilities.
He headed over to the airport coffee shop and filled a disposable cup with strong black brew. When he passed his money to the clerk, he ignored her flirty smile and bright eyes. Maybe he’d stop dating for a while—it wasn’t as if he ever intended to get married, anyway. He’d leave that to Molly, Colleen and Rory. Heck, he wouldn’t even mind if his mom got married again. It was already eight years since his dad had died.
The same length of time Abby Hamilton had been gone. She’d taken off right after the funeral, even skipping her high school graduation. Not that she’d have been able to graduate with her class, since she’d just been expelled. If Clayton didn’t get a handle on Rory soon, the youngest McClintock would probably be heading down that same dead end.
What was she doing now? His sisters and mom kept in touch with her, but they didn’t tell him much. They knew how he felt. The last he’d heard, she was moving around, working temp jobs, which didn’t surprise him. Nothing had ever seemed to hold her interest for long.
“Flight 3459 is arriving at Gate B4.”
The announcement startled him and his hand jerked, spilling coffee over his fingers and burning them. Abby was back. Clayton’s stomach lurched, maybe from the bitter liquid, or maybe because he knew that Abby Hamilton had always been nothing but trouble. She might be older now, and maybe even wiser, but he doubted she had changed that much.
He stared over the heads of other people gathered who waited to meet the late arrivals. They greeted each other with exuberant hugs and voices full of excitement. Somehow he doubted Abby would be that happy to see him—she had no idea he’d been called into service as her chauffeur.
He glanced in the direction of the approaching passengers. Where was she? Everyone moved toward the luggage carousel, its gears grinding as it began a slow rotation. Then metal clunked and the bags began to drop onto the carousel. Clayton ran his hand, which still stung from the coffee burn, across his face. Somehow the ground crew had gotten the luggage off the plane before she’d disembarked. Now, there was no hope of their making the rehearsal. He’d have to push her, in order to make the dinner.
So she hadn’t changed. He caught sight of her, finally, first spotting her fair hair as she strolled into view behind a group of stragglers pushing strollers. Until the others moved toward their luggage, he could barely see her. She probably wasn’t much over five feet tall. As she got closer, he studied her face, which was framed by a wild mass of curls. Her
