Or about the reception—a small informal affair which was to be held back at Bay Bites. Lizzie’s team had all that under control.
No. Lizzie’s concern was that she wanted to look beautiful for Jesse.
She did a twirl as best she could in the confines of the van. ‘Do you think Jesse will like it?’ she asked Sandy, unable to suppress the tremor in her voice. She loved the ankle-length dress for its elegant simplicity: a V-neck tunic in soft off-white tulle lace layered over a silk under-dress and caught in with a flat bow in the small of her back.
‘Jesse won’t be able to keep his eyes off you,’ said Sandy. ‘I’ve never seen a lovelier bride, and I’m not saying that because you’re my baby sister. That dress is divine—simple, elegant, discreetly sexy. Just like you.’
Lizzie hugged her. ‘You’re okay about me marrying Jesse, aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘You warned me off him so many times. But he isn’t what people said, you know. He makes me happier than I ever could have imagined.’
She was taken aback by Sandy’s burst of laughter. ‘Ben and I couldn’t be more delighted you two are getting married. You and Jesse are perfect for each other. But you’re so stubborn you would have run the other way if I’d told you that. You had to find each other in your own way.’
Lizzie’s first reaction was to huff indignantly. But instead she smiled. ‘You did me a favour and I’m grateful.’ She paused. ‘Sisters married to brothers. It’s worked out so well for us, hasn’t it? Our guys from Dolphin Bay.’
‘Yes,’ said Sandy. Her hand went protectively to the slight swell of her belly. She and Ben were expecting a baby in six months’ time—an event anticipated with much joy by the Morgan clan. ‘We’re both getting our happily-ever-after endings.’
Then Sandy bustled Lizzie towards the door of the van. ‘Come on, bride, your gorgeous groom is waiting for you.’
Lizzie waited at the start of the ‘aisle’ formed by double rows of seashells that led to a white wooden wedding arch adorned with filmy white fabric and sprays of the small red flowers of the New South Wales Christmas bush. The aquamarine waters of the ocean with the white waves rolling in formed the most glorious backdrop for her wedding ceremony. When she drew in some deep calming breaths, the salt smell of the sea mingled with the sweet scent of the frangipani in her hair.
Both Sandy and Amy, her only attendants, had preceded her down the aisle. They both wore pretty knee-length dresses in a shade of palest coffee. Barista coffee, Lizzie had joked. They were all barefoot, with their toenails painted Christmas red in honour of the festive season.
There was one more thing to do before Lizzie took her journey down the aisle. She laid aside her bouquet of Christmas bush. Then slipped off her diamond engagement ring from the third finger of her left hand and transferred it to her right hand. Jesse had surprised her with the superb solitaire in a starkly simple platinum setting just days after he had proposed to her on this very beach.
She watched as Sandy reached the wedding arch and took her place beside Ben, Jesse’s best man. On her other side, Amy held her aunt’s hand. Then it was Lizzie’s turn to walk down the aisle to get married to Jesse.
The sand either side of the aisle was lined with well-wishers but they were just a blur to Lizzie. She recognised Maura standing by with Amy’s adored Alfie and Ben’s golden retriever Hobo firmly secured by leashes. But the only face she wanted to see was Jesse’s.
And then she was beside him; he was clean-shaven, his black hair tamed, heart-achingly handsome in a stone-coloured linen suit and an open-neck white silk shirt. Any doubts she might have had about him finding her beautiful on her wedding day were dispersed by the look of adoration in his deep blue eyes as he took her hand in his and drew her to his side.
‘I love you,’ he murmured.
‘I love you too,’ she whispered.
‘That’s three thousand and sixty-three times we’ve said it,’ he said.
‘And we have a lifetime ahead of us to keep on saying it,’ she said, tightening her clasp on his hand.
The celebrant called the guests to order. Before she knew it, they’d exchanged vows and Jesse was slipping the platinum wedding ring on her finger and then her diamond ring on top. ‘I declare you man and wife,’ said the celebrant.
‘Now I can kiss my bride,’ said Jesse, gathering her into his arms. ‘Mrs Lizzie Morgan.’
Their kiss should have been the cue for classical wedding music to play through the speakers placed strategically near the wedding arch.
But, as Jesse claimed his first kiss as her husband, Lizzie was stunned to hear instead the distinctive notes of Jesse’s signature tune rearranged for violin and piano.
‘Where did that music come from?’ she asked Jesse.
Jesse laughed. ‘No idea. But I like it. Now you truly are Jesse’s girl.’ He kissed her again to the accompaniment of clapping and cheering from their friends and family. ‘My wife—the best Christmas present ever.’
* * * * *
Marion Lennox
This book is dedicated to Lorna May Dickins.
Her kindness, her humour and her love are an
inspiration for always.
‘DIDN’T YOU ONCE own a house in the Blue Mountains?’
‘Um...yes.’
‘Crikey, Jules, you wouldn’t want to be there now. The whole range looks about to burn.’
It was two days before Christmas. The Australian world of finance shut down between Christmas and New Year, but the deal Julie McDowell was working on was international. The legal issues were urgent.
But the Blue Mountains... Fire.
She dumped her armload of contracts and headed for Chris’s desk. At thirty-two, Chris was the same age as Julie, but her colleague’s work ethic was as different from hers as it was possible to be. Chris worked from nine to five and not a moment more before he was off home to his wife and kids in the suburbs. Sometimes he even surfed the Web during business hours.
Sure enough, his computer was open at the Web browser now. She came up behind him and saw a fire map. The Blue Mountains. A line of red asterisks.
Her focus went straight to Mount Bundoon, a tiny hamlet right in the centre of the asterisks. The hamlet she’d once lived in.
‘Is it on fire?’ she gasped. She’d been so busy she hadn’t been near a news broadcast for hours. Days?
‘Not yet.’ Chris zoomed in on a few of the asterisks. ‘These are alerts, not evacuation
