A Misty Harbor Wedding Read online

  Tyler’s eyes grew wide and he shuddered. “Do we have to eat that?”

  “Yuck,” added Austin. From the boy’s perch on Matt’s shoulders, he had a clear view of destruction.

  “Don’t you guys worry about it. We’ll figure out something.” He had no idea what, but there was no way anyone could eat that and be healthy enough to attend Ned’s wedding in two weeks. They also couldn’t hurt his mother’s feelings. Peggy Porter had feelings beneath her tough facade. Of course she might knock a couple of her sons’ heads together while expressing those tender feelings.

  “How about we all help get this stuff outside?” The countertop and table were overflowing with food. He plucked Austin off his shoulders and set him on his feet. “You can carry the mustard and ketchup.” He handed Austin the plastic containers and then started handing out the other stuff for the youngsters to carry. Light and nonbreakable was the rule.

  Karl and Ned each picked up a large bowl of salad and headed out back. Paul was still in their parents’ room changing Amanda, and John was out back. Why was he always stuck with the dirty job?

  With the kitchen empty, there was no time like the present. “Leave no witnesses” had always been the Porter boys’ motto when they were young. He moved out of the splash zone and, using a long spatula, pushed the casserole dish off the counter and onto the floor. The loud crash was heard out back. He could hear “What was that?” coming from a couple people.

  By the time his mother and brother Ned rushed into the kitchen he had the dustpan out and was gathering up the broken pieces of the dish and the congealed glob of beans.

  “What happened?” asked his mother, looking at the mess on the floor.

  “I’m sorry, Mom, it slipped.” He pretended not to hear Ned cough. “I’ll buy you a new dish. I know how much you liked this one.” He kept his eyes on the mess. If he looked at his brother he was sure to laugh. At one time or another, all through their youth, various dishes had slipped. Even his father had been known to drop a few.

  “Well, clean up the mess.” His mother stepped around him and grabbed the basket filled with rolls. “Krup’s General Store carries the blue set of cookware that matches everything else your brothers or father buy to replace what they break.” Peggy Porter pushed opened the screen door and disappeared onto the back patio.

  Matt cringed when he heard his mom say, “It’s nothing. Matt, the klutz, dropped the baked beans, so we are going to have to do without them tonight. I swear, the men in this family have blubber on their fingers with the way things slip out of their hands all the time. How any of them manage to keep all their fingers and toes when they work around power tools is beyond me.”

  Paul, who was standing in the bedroom doorway with a now-smiling Amanda in his arms, laughed. “I bought her a new Crock-Pot last month and I had to drive all the way into Sullivan to pick up a bucket of chicken to replace the tuna stew she had made.” Paul shuddered at the memory.

  Ned got some paper towels and wet them. “I remember the tuna stew. Norah told me the wedding was off if I made her eat any of it.”

  “So why didn’t you drop the Crock-Pot?” groused Paul. “The new one she liked set me back fifty bucks and now Jill is complaining that my mother has a bigger Crock-Pot. She wants a new one too.”

  “You got to it first.” Ned smiled and handed Matt the wet towels.

  He took the towels. “Hey, a little help here.” The beans had splattered everywhere but thankfully none had landed on him. There were even beans dripping down the cabinet doors. He’d saved the family from having to choke down the beans, or finding ways to dispose of them off their plates without his mother seeing them. The least his brothers could do was help clean up the mess.

  Paul and Ned both laughed, picked up the remaining food, and headed out the door. “Why should we help? We weren’t the ones to drop it, klutz.”

  He uttered a curse as the screen door slammed. Great, now Sierra was going to think he was a klutz. He cleaned up the major part of the spill and tossed everything into the garbage can.

  Armed with the roll of towels and some orange spray cleaner, he started to wipe down the cabinet doors.

  “Need any help?” Sierra had quietly sneaked up on him.

  “Thanks, but I got it.” Now he felt like a real idiot. Thankfully most of the mess was history. “I’m usually not this clumsy.” It was a little hard to explain how broken baking dishes could prevent food poisoning. It would be stupid to even try.

  “Norah just let me in on the secret.” Sierra leaned her hip against the counter and frowned at the few remaining cabinet doors he had yet to wipe down. “I’ve never seen baked beans that color before. Why are they gray?”

  “No one knew, and no one was brave enough to taste them to see what secret ingredient my mother might have added to this batch.” His mother once had added sardines to spaghetti sauce.

  “Why is it smearing like that?” Sierra bent down to study the gray smear left behind after the first wipe. She reached out a finger and touched the streak. A gray residue coated the tip of her finger. “It’s powdery.”

  “It’s ash.” He sprayed the cabinet and wiped it clean. “Now you know why I accidentally dropped the dish.”

  “Smart move.” Sierra stood up, walked over to the sink, and washed her hands. “So you’re not only a nice guy and a great brother, but a hero too.”

  “How do you figure that?” He cleaned the last cabinet door and tossed the used paper towel. He joined Sierra at the sink.

  “You’re nice because you didn’t want to hurt your mom’s feelings”—Sierra playfully bumped his hip with hers and reached for a towel to dry her hands—“and you’re a hero for not making any of us eat whatever that was in the dish you broke.”

  “ ‘Hero’ is stretching it a bit.” He wasn’t a hero. Just a simple coward who had eaten one too many meals his mother had fixed. The first allowance he had ever received had been spent on a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.

  “I think it’s cute.” Sierra handed him the towel.

  For the first time he noticed he had Sierra alone and all to himself. No Austin, no brothers, and no other family members to distract her. “So you think I’m cute?” he teased as he dried his hands.

  Sierra’s laugh was low and seductive. “There is that, but that’s not what I said.”

  He loved her smile. It was reflected in her eyes. “So you do think I’m cute.” Hell, no man wanted to be known as “cute,” but he wasn’t about to get choosy at this stage of the game. He’d take “cute.” They both were crowded into the corner of the kitchen. He could smell the light scent of her perfume. Sierra wore the fragrance of a fresh, cool summer breeze with just a hint of flowers. The perfume alone raised his blood pressure. He watched her eyes as he reached out a finger and slowly traced her lower lip.

  Sierra’s eyes flared opened with heat, and she seemed to have stopped breathing.

  Whatever he was feeling, Sierra was feeling it too. He hadn’t been imagining this connection between them.

  “Hey,” called Ned as he opened the screen door, “everyone is looking for you two.” Ned grinned as he strolled into the kitchen.

  Sierra blushed and quickly stepped away. Matt turned to his brother and wondered what he could chuck across the room to wipe that smile off his face. “Was there anything else you wanted, Ned?”

  “Mom sent me in for the deviled eggs Jill brought.” Ned walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a tray. Two dozen deviled eggs slipped and slid across the plastic tray but thankfully none landed on the floor. “She also said for you two to knock off whatever you’re doing and get your butts on out there.”

  He wanted to bury his face into his hands and howl. Sierra was going to think his whole family was crude and insensitive. “Tell her we’ll be right there,” he muttered between clenched teeth.

  “I have to go check on Austin.” Sierra hurried out the door without a backward glance.

  “Oops.” Ned shrugged. “I gues
s I interrupted something.”

  “You could say that.” He had no idea what Ned had interrupted, but whatever it was, the heat of the moment had been about to consume them both.

  “Matt, I don’t want to rain on your parade, but she’ll be leaving come Labor Day.” Ned gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “You don’t think I know that?” he snapped as he left the kitchen and joined the party.

  Sierra walked the yard in silence; studying every angle. She could hear Norah and her mother behind her arguing about something, but she tuned out the volume of their voices until it sounded like a bee droning. She learned that little secret years ago. Without getting her own bearings first, she wouldn’t be able to come up with solutions to the growing list of problems.

  And the list was long and various.

  Norah and Ned’s wedding was a little over two weeks away, and as far as she could tell, the entire event was a disaster waiting to happen. The good news was that the wedding party consisted of four people, and that included the bride and groom. Matt was going to be the best man, and Norah’s college roommate was to be the maid of honor. Matt and Ned both had purchased new suits for the occasion. Norah’s dress was ordered, fitted, and guaranteed to be ready on time. The maid of honor was bringing her own gown of pale pink. Beyond that, nothing was settled.

  Sierra looked around the yard of Joanna and Norah’s cottage. The small house was right next door to Matt’s parents. On the plus side, the yard was large enough to hold an outside wedding, which was what Ned and Norah wanted. On the minus side, the yard wasn’t what she would call landscaped. Someone had started some nice gardens, but that was as far as he or she had gotten—the starting point. The yard had a long way to go to match any of those pictures Norah and her mother had marked or ripped out of the countless magazines they had shown Sierra earlier.

  “Who’s the gardener?” She had seen enough. Now it was time to offer up some solutions.

  “I am,” answered Joanna, Norah’s mom. “When we first moved here in June, I started to play a little bit with the yard, but I didn’t manage to get very far.”

  “Karl swept her off her feet, and the next thing I knew my mom’s married and has left home.” Norah grinned at her mom and teased, “Of course Karl’s gardens look wonderful.”

  “How was I supposed to know that you had your heart set on a garden wedding?” Joanna looked upset and frazzled.

  “Mom, it’s okay.” Norah hugged her mom. “We’ll think of something.”

  “How many guests are invited?” Sierra didn’t waste time worrying about things that couldn’t be changed. The past was one of them.

  “Between two hundred fifty and three hundred.” Norah looked shocked as she quoted that figure. “Ned said the entire town is going to show up.”

  Matt’s mom and sisters-in-law joined them. “That’s right, Norah. There will be no stopping it. Ned was born and raised here. He knows everyone.”

  “But that will mean the bride’s side will have only a handful of people.” Joanna looked distressed. “We have only about a dozen relatives coming in, and a few friends Norah has made at work.”

  “Then why have a bride’s side and a groom’s side?” She looked at Norah. “A garden wedding isn’t as formal as a church one. You don’t have to have sides.”

  Norah looked intrigued.

  “Besides, who’s going to seat them? You don’t have any ushers, just Matt as the best man. It would take Matt a long time to properly seat three hundred people.”

  “I always thought the bride’s side versus the groom’s side was stupid,” Jill said. “At our wedding we had people who were friends with both of us, and they had no idea which side to take.”

  “Taking sides does sound ridiculous,” added Kay. “You go to a wedding for the whole couple, not just half.”

  Norah grinned. “Okay, no sides. So how do we set up the chairs?”

  “I was thinking over there.” Ned’s mom pointed to the left.

  “I thought over here would be better.” Norah’s mom pointed to the right.

  “What about there?” Kay waved her hand toward the very back of the yard.

  Norah’s gaze bounced from person to person. The bride-to-be looked confused, rattled, and ready to elope.

  “I have a question,” Sierra said calmly. “Norah, do you still want the arbor with all the climbing roses as the center stage where you and Ned will exchange your vows?”

  “Ned and I both love that idea, but I don’t see how we can do it.” Norah glanced around the yard. Only two rose bushes were in bloom, and neither was over three feet high.

  “Let’s pretend we can get an arbor and the roses. Where would you like to see it set up?”

  “Over in the far corner of the property.” Norah pointed to the corner where their property met Ned’s parents’. It was filled with trees and bushes. “If it was set up in front of the trees, they would act as a lovely green backdrop, and the guests wouldn’t have a view of the other neighbors’ fences and backyards.”

  She smiled. “Perfect.” It was where she would have put it. “You place the arbor, arch, altar—or whatever you want to call it—and then set the chairs up so they are all facing it.”

  “Ummm . . . Sierra, you’re forgetting one thing,” Norah said with a smile. “We don’t have an arbor, arch, fence, or even a tepee that roses or any other plant could climb up.”

  “Arbors and roses are easy.” She grinned at Norah. If there was ever a woman in love, she was standing right in front of her. “It’s that true love part that’s a little more difficult to come by. Enjoy it.”

  “If only Ned would wait until next summer. I can have this garden blooming like crazy.” Joanna looked at the yard in dismay. “Norah and Ned both want a garden wedding, and I have no idea where to even begin.”

  “They should get married in the church,” said Jill. “Then we can have some flowers brought in to give it that garden feel. They can even have the reception in the social hall or down at the fire hall.”

  “Ned said I have till the middle of August to pull this together,” Norah added, “or he’s kidnapping me and taking me to Las Vegas to get married by an Elvis impersonator.” Norah shuddered at the thought.

  Sierra laughed. “Then I suggest we get moving.”

  “We?” Norah raised a brow.

  “We, if you want my help.” No one in Misty Harbor knew her, so she couldn’t blame them for being cautious. “I’m an excellent expediter, and I can delegate like nobody’s business.”

  “But you’re on vacation,” Joanna said.

  “This is a vacation to me.” She wasn’t about to tell them the real reason she was spending a month in Misty Harbor. Once people found out she was scouting the area for a major hotel, the truth was harder for her to see. Everyone started having agendas. People had strong opinions on whether they wanted to see a hundred fifty–room elegant hotel go up in their town. Either they would be profiting from the extra tourist trade and employment or they would be losing business, losing their employees, and losing their small town. Once a Randall Hotel went up, Misty Harbor would cease to be a small town.

  Things would change. She was aware of the fact that most people didn’t like change.

  “You wouldn’t mind helping?” Norah seemed thrilled with the thought.

  “Of course not. I volunteered, didn’t I?” She was practically knocked to the ground when Norah threw herself at her. Norah was an itty-bitty thing, but if you added all the weight of her jewelry, she weighed as much as Flipper, Ned’s Newfoundland.

  “Have you ever planned a wedding before?” Joanna asked.

  “No, but I’ve attended many, and my best friend is a wedding planner. Lianna’s in L.A. right now, but she’ll help us.” The Randall Hotel Corporation had Lianna on a retainer for when important guests needed that particular service. Either Lianna came personally, or she worked closely with the event coordinator at the hotel.

  “Do you really think we can pul
l this together?” Norah looked hopeful. “I really don’t want to get married by a guy in a white sequined jumpsuit.”

  “We can’t find a caterer,” Peggy Porter said.

  “None of them will take on a big affair on such short notice.” Joanna picked up Zsa Zsa, who had come running across the yard.

  “I suggested the women’s guild at the church, but every one of them has been invited to the wedding,” Jill said.

  Kay added, “No one wants to miss the reception.”

  “What if it rains?”

  “We can’t find a band.”

  “We found a place that rents tables and chairs, but they don’t have tents.”

  “What about a DJ?”

  “We need a bridal bouquet and centerpieces.”

  “What about a bar? Who’s going to be serving drinks?” Peggy asked.

  The questions and complaints were coming fast and furious. Sierra looked at Norah. The poor gal looked shell-shocked and ready to cry.

  “Stop!” Sierra raised her hand and her voice. “We’re upsetting Norah.”

  Everyone looked at the bride-to-be and started to apologize. Sierra shook her head and tried not to laugh. Not one constructive thing with the upcoming wedding had been accomplished, and they had been talking about it for hours. Before dinner, during dinner, and now after dinner, the entire conversation had been about Ned and Norah’s wedding. The men of the family figured all they had to do was show up for the ceremony and enjoy themselves. The females were all running around like Chicken Little with the sky about to fall.

  She reached for Norah’s hand and pulled her from the mob. “Norah, do you trust me to help? I know pulling a wedding together in two weeks is a challenge, but I’m up for it. Plus I have a whole bunch of free time.” She was more than up for the challenge. She needed a challenge.

  “You really don’t mind?” Norah wiped at a lone tear. “I think we could use your help.”

  “I would love to.” Sierra felt the thrill of being needed for what she could do, not for who she was. “This is Norah’s wedding. What she says goes. Our job, ladies, is to give Norah the wedding of her dreams.” Sierra glared across the yard to the Porters’ backyard.