events work best. Is she thinking of a large event? Sit-down reception? Church wedding or—”
“Yes!”
“Yes?” Pulling teeth would be easier. “Yes—what, exactly?”
“Church wedding. I think.” He glanced around the reception area. His nose wrinkled when his glance landed on delicate white wrought iron chairs with their tufted white silk cushions. “The reception can’t be stuffy. Not like—”
Mr. Porter cut himself off, but the glare he shot toward tiny Victorian chairs her grandmother favored made Sara smile. Tact indeed.
“Not stuffy—like this. Is that what you mean?” she asked, tongue in cheek.
“Well…yes.” He shied away from meeting her stare.
“I see. It would be helpful for the bride to be present for her wedding plans.” That wasn’t being nosy. “If your sister could—”
“She can’t. You’ll have to manage with me. Unless…”
He let his voice trail away, but Sara got the message. Unless she had a problem. And Weddings by Woodwards did not have problems with clients.
Ever.
“Perhaps something less—er,” Cade Porter’s aquiline nose twitched as he glanced at the very girlish frilly bridal gown on the main pedestal display.
“I understand.” Sara swallowed her laughter. “Don’t worry. We’re not only about froufrou. We cater to many tastes.” She checked the wall, scanned the work board. “To prove it, I’d show you a very masculine area, but at the moment it’s being used by two men being fitted for tuxedos.”
“Awkward.” His lazy smile was a dentist’s dream.
“Slightly. A tour of Weddings by Woodwards would illustrate the variety we offer. But I have to look after the boys and…”
“It doesn’t matter.” The look on his face said Cade Porter understood that none of the rooms would be suitable for Brett and Brady. “We’ll go on to something else.”
That was generous of him. Sara also noted how he praised both boys’ drawings, then promised he’d choose a winner after they added a few more details.
“You’re good with kids,” she said when he straightened.
“I love them. Kids are amazing.” Was that a hint of longing in his voice? “Families are so much fun.”
Fun wasn’t exactly how Sara would describe her relatives.
“Maybe you should tell me your ideas for this wedding.” Sara waited. Seconds stretched to minutes of unbearable tension. She frowned. “You don’t have any ideas?”
He shrugged. A hint of—embarrassment?—shadowed his eyes.
“My ideas include a minister, flowers, some music. I thought planning a wedding would be a simple matter of my telling you and you doing it.” He glanced around the room. “Guess I was wrong.”
“Horsie all done.” Brady held up his picture in triumph.
“Good boy—”
“I was on the phone, and I heard a racket. You didn’t let the boys ruin anything, did you, Sara?” Katie stepped through the back door, caught sight of their visitor and immediately thrust out one perfectly manicured hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt. You must be Mr. Porter.”
“I am.”
“Katie Woodward. I’m afraid I found a notation about your appointment with Winnie only a few moments ago. I tried to call, but you’d already left home.”
Sara glanced at Cade, found his gaze on her. See, his eyes chided.
“More candy?” Brett asked hopefully, peering upward at the cowboy.
Cade turned his attention to the twins as he debated the winner of their coloring contest.
“Sara?” Katie hissed. “Problem?”
“Mr. Porter is interested in a church wedding. With the twins present, it’s difficult for us to carry on a discussion. Perhaps you could help him while I babysit?” Keeping her back toward the man in question, Sara silently begged her sister to intervene.
“I’m booked with consults all day, sorry. But Reese will be down in a few minutes. Apparently the agency is sending him a new nanny to replace the one who quit this morning. He’ll take the twins when he goes to meet her.” Katie leaned closer and whispered, “Is there some reason why you don’t want to handle Mr. Porter’s wedding?”
“Aside from the fact that I haven’t done one in two years?”
“You’ll do fine. Your weddings were always the most unique.”
Sara made a face. During her previous employment at Woodwards, her family had meddled with every wedding plan she’d organized—just like they interfered in everything else in her life.
Which was why she’d left.
Reese chose that moment to thunder down the stairs, calling to his sons. He stopped when he saw Cade. Sara introduced the two men.
“Congratulations. You have two creative artists in the making.” Cade showed him the pictures. “They’re horses,” he hinted as Reese tilted his head sideways.
“They’re fantastic horses.” Reese ruffled the boys’ hair. “Good job, guys.”
From his speculative look, Sara knew her brother was taking stock of their client. Reese had to notice the way his sons refused to release Cade’s pant leg even after the cowboy awarded a tie for first place, but her brother made no effort to free their client.
“Brady, Brett, let go of Mr. Porter.” Embarrassed, Sara tried to shift the chubby fingers, with no success. “I’m afraid they come by their stubbornness honestly,” she apologized. “Reese was just as determined when we were kids.”
“And so was I.” He grinned at Reese. “Could I invite you and your boys for a horse ride at my ranch—in the interest of adding perspective to their artistic endeavors? And because they both won first prize?”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Reese asked after shushing the boys’ begging pleas. “How long have you had with them? Obviously not long enough to recognize the devastation they bring.”
“I have a rough idea of their capabilities.” Cade winked at Sara. “There’s nothing they can wreck on the ranch.”
“I doubt your horses will think so after they leave.”
“Please, I’d love to have you bring them. Is Saturday okay?”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Cade scooped both boys in his arms for a goodbye hug. He thanked them for drawing him the pictures and promised to hang them up at home.
