Picture Perfect Wedding (6 page)

He’d had enough. “Out! Now!”

Only she didn’t jump at his loud and booming yell, nor did she look remotely offended. Instead of throwing him a scalding look or shooting back a snarky response, she threw her head back and laughed. Not a tinkling, modest laugh that fitted her styled hair and coordinated pink-and-black clothes and accessories, but a loud, deep belly laugh that made the cows look up from their feed trough. The rich sound reverberated round him, pulling at the strands of discontent that had been rumbling inside him for months and tempting him to follow the sound to the source. To that wide, pink mouth. To those plump and luscious lips. To—

God, he wasn’t losing it. No, he’d lost it. Totally and utterly. Somehow in the past six months not only had everything he’d always loved about the farm changed, but he’d lost the ability to differentiate between the type of women he enjoyed and the type he loathed. The sooner he got into town, met up with Marlene, got drunk and got laid, the better.

* * *

Nicole sat back and sipped her coffee while watching Erin, who was intently listening to Jenna Ambrose. The bride’s wedding was a week away and Nicole had her fingers crossed that Erin’s portfolio and friendly manner would wow her, because Jenna had already fired two photographers and Eric’s style wouldn’t suit her. Nicole had a plan which involved connecting Erin to as many brides as possible either in person or over the phone and hopefully the brides would sign with the bright and cheery photographer. The longer Nicole could keep Erin working in Whitetail, the bigger the chance she’d relocate her business.

Nicole had seen the first rush of photos Erin had taken at Lindsay and Keith’s wedding and she’d been blown away by how well Erin had captured the essence of their day. It wasn’t just the way Lindsay and Keith’s joy radiated from the pictures, it was also the photos of the little things that defined them as a couple—the white bowls filled with bulging strawberries, their rings resting together on freshly turned dirt, Lindsay’s bare feet on the grass with her fire-engine-red painted toes, and Keith’s loving gaze. They’d wanted a casual celebration and Erin had given them the perfect pictorial memory of their day. Every time they opened the album they’d be instantly taken back to their special time in the park, and they’d remember the wonder.

At least, that’s what should happen. Nicole wasn’t naive and she knew that often photos lay in their album and the album in its beautiful linen box—both rarely opened because those revisits came with regret.

She bit her lip and thought about her own wedding album. The last time she’d looked at it was the night of Bradley’s funeral. That one look had brought back in a rush all the memories of her hopes and dreams for their future together. A future that had turned out to be so very different from how she’d imagined.

“I want a casual feel to my photos,” Jenna said, spinning her ring on her finger. “No lining up like a school photograph.”

Erin leaned forward, her smile bright and friendly. “How many in your wedding party?”

“Fourteen adults, a page boy, a flower girl and Greg’s dog.” She gave a half grimace. “There’s been a lot of family pressure so I had to include my cousins as well.”

Erin nodded as if she understood. “Your mom sees your wedding as a big family event?”

“That’s exactly it. It’s like it’s her special day and Greg and I just have supporting roles.” Jenna’s lips thinned. “Well, I won’t let her dictate the photos!”

“It must be so frustrating for you,” Erin agreed. “Can I share something with you that I’ve learned from photographing weddings?”

Surprise flitted across Jenna’s face. “I guess.”

Erin flicked the pages of her portfolio until she came to the photo of a large wedding party and extended family. Twenty-two faces smiled at the camera. “This bride felt exactly like you but she gave her mom one formal photo. Believe me, you want to enjoy your day and having a grumpy mom will take the gloss off of it. So, early on, soon after the service, I can organize everyone into position and at the very last minute, you and Greg will put down your champagne glasses and just slot into the center of the group. I’ll take the photo and then it’s over. Painless. No memories of school photos and waiting in line.”

She turned another page showing photos of the same wedding where everyone looked to be having so much fun. “You see? This bride got the feel you want and her mom got the mantelpiece picture and everyone was happy.”

Jenna peered closely at the other photos, turning the pages slowly and then without looking up said, “You know, that might work.”

Erin was good. Nicole was giving her a grateful smile and a thumbs-up over the bride’s bent head when she felt her phone vibrate. With Jenna still distracted, she glanced at the text from Maddi, a high school senior.

at park max hurt come

Her mouth dried as her heart leaped into the back of her throat. She’d left Max in Maddi’s care to take this meeting and now... She shot to her feet. “I’m really sorry but my son’s hurt and I...”

“Go,” Erin said before the bride had even looked up. “Jenna and I are fine to keep chatting and getting to know each other, aren’t we, Jenna?”

The bride nodded. “Sure.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Erin said, picking up Nicole’s purse and shoving it into her hands.

Nicole nodded and ran to her car. Five minutes later she pulled up at the park and her breath stilled in her lungs. The Whitetail fire department’s rescue truck was here.

Oh God
,
first Bradley
,
now Max.
Flying out of the car, she frantically scanned the park for the bright blue shirts of firemen kneeling down around her prostrate and unconscious child, but apart from a toddler on the swings with his father, she couldn’t see anyone. She ran directly to the truck.

“Mommy! Look.” Her eight-year-old son was sitting in the truck wearing a red fireman’s helmet on his head and beaming widely.

“Max?” Her heart still raced, even though her eyes clearly told her that he was obviously not seriously injured. In fact he looked happier than he had in a long time. “What are you doing up there?”

“Tony said I could.”

Tony?
She sucked in some slow, deep breaths trying to get rid of the feeling that she’d just been hit upside the head. Not a lot was making sense. “Who’s Tony? Where’s Maddi?”

“I’m Tony Lascio.”

A fireman with short, cropped black hair and tanned skin that gleamed like bronze, smiled at her and she realized that in her panicked state she hadn’t noticed him standing there. His name badge clearly said Fire Chief.

So this was the new chief everyone had been talking about at the town meeting last week? She swallowed at his sheer masculinity. With a wide neck, solid, broad shoulders and sculptured forearms with veins that bulged, he looked like he could take on a freight truck and win. Now she understood why Melissa and Emily had been so animated when they were talking about his appointment. Whitetail, with its Swedish heritage, was not used to dark and husky men like Chief Lascio.

He continued to smile at her and she got the oddest sensation in her stomach—like a squad of butterflies doing gymnastics—which rode in on top of her previous adrenaline surge, making her feel hot, flustered and confused. Her cheeks burned under the intense gaze of his chocolate-noir stare.

“Um...I’m...a...” Her mind blanked.
Name!
She closed her eyes for a moment to think.

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” A slightly rough hand slid under her arm with reassuring warmth.

Warmth that flowed into her and then eddied in the most delicious way, calling up distant memories of being touched. Stroked. Caressed.

Her stomach flipped. Her eyes shot open and she managed to splutter out, “I’m fine. Just a bit wobbly after the text I just got.” She stepped back from his touch, remembering who she was and how that defined her. “I’m Nicole Lindquist, Max’s mom.” She glanced around looking for the sitter. “What’s happened? Where’s Maddi?”

“Maddi hurt her head,” Max said. “She’s in the bed with the legs that go up and down.”

“What?” Nicole jerked her head back to Chief Lascio who was nodding his affirmation of Max’s report.

“It seems Maddi misjudged the timing of the swing and she took a nasty knock to the head from Max’s feet.”

“Oh, no. Is she alright?” Nicole’s concern instantly shifted.

“She’s conscious but a bit dazed. We’re doing head injury checks on her and she needs to go to the hospital for observation.”

“But I don’t understand.” Nicole held up her phone. “She sent me a text saying Max was hurt.”

The chief smiled again, his faced wreathed with sympathy and understanding. She found herself wondering if his smile would be different if it was bestowed upon someone in a non-professional capacity and instantly gave herself a mental shake. She did
not
need to wonder that.

“I think you’ll find it was Max who used Maddi’s phone to send you the text. He told me he did that after he’d called 911. You’ve got a smart little guy there,” the chief said, his voice full of approval

Max called 911?
When Bradley had died, Max had started waking up in the middle of the night, asking her over and over what he should do if someone was hurt bad like Daddy. She’d taught him 911 to reassure him so he could sleep again. She’d never thought he’d use it.

“Good job, Max.” She tried to kiss him but he squirmed away, too busy having fun sitting in the truck.

“Tony, can I turn on the siren? Please,” Max pleaded.

“Sorry, Champ, Maddi’s got a headache so we don’t want to make it worse. Tell you what, you can keep the hat.”

“Awesome.” Max’s eyes were as round as saucers.

“What do you say, Max?” Nicole demanded gently of her son.

“Thank you.” The little boy suddenly leaned out of the truck and threw his arms around Tony’s neck.

The fireman’s wide, firm stance didn’t move despite the fact a child’s weight had been hurled at him, but surprise streaked across his face. “Whoa there, little guy.”

“Max. Get down,” Nicole snapped, her heart sinking as she disengaged her son from the fireman’s chest. Since Bradley’s death he’d taken to hugging people but this was the first time he’d hugged a perfect stranger. Desperate to ease the uncomfortable moment she said, “May I speak with Maddi?”

“Sure.” He extended his arm, indicating she walk the length of the truck to the back.

Joe, the second fireman-cum-EMT who Nicole knew well, was sitting inside checking Maddi’s IV and writing on a chart. Maddi was propped up on the stretcher looking almost as white as the sheet that was tucked around her

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Lindquist,” she wailed.

“Don’t be silly, Maddi,” Nicole soothed. “I’m just sorry you’re hurt. Is your mom on her way?”

The teenager shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “She and Dad are in Duluth and they won’t be back until tonight. I’m scared, Mrs. Lindquist.”

“Sweetie, there’s nothing to be scared about. The nurses at the hospital will look after you.”

“She needs an adult with her at the hospital,” Tony said, expectation clear in his eyes that she should be the one to sort this out.

He moved past her and the scent of male cologne tickled her nostrils. A whoosh of wondrous goose bumps rose on her arms and a half second later the searing pain of guilt doused them. She rubbed her forearm. “Yes, of course. I’ll make some calls.”

Her mind raced. Max at the hospital wasn’t a good idea. Her parents were busy and Bradley’s were on a vacation in Canada. Could she ask Dana Callahan if she could mind Max again so soon after he’d had a sleepover with Logan? Nicole had been so busy she hadn’t had time to reciprocate and although the Callahans always said “anytime” she didn’t like to impose on their vacation.

She hated asking for help but asking came with the territory of being a single mom and over the past year necessity had given her a diploma in it.

Max tugged on her hand. “Did Daddy go in an ambulance like this?”

She thought of the squat, mine-resistant-ambush-protected ATVs that were used as ambulances in Afghanistan. The only thing that the two vehicles had in common was the medical equipment. “Sort of.”

“Did he have a Tony or Joe?”

Nicole nodded, having spoken to the two men who’d been with her husband when he’d died. “He had a Dan and a Kevin.”

Tony started to close the doors and Nicole called out, “I’ll meet you at the hospital, Maddi.”

The girl gave a wan wave as the doors shut completely

The chief squatted down so he was at eye level with Max. “Bye, Champ. Thanks for all your help.”

“My daddy was in an ambulance,” Max said. “He had a Dan and a Kevin look after him.”

Dark eyes looked up, scanning Nicole’s face with an intensity that made her shiver. “Shh, Max. Chief Lascio doesn’t want to hear about that.”
Doesn’t need to hear about that.
I
don’t want to tell him about that.

The fireman’s gaze returned to Max. “I’m glad he had Dan and Kevin.” Then he pulled Max’s helmet over the little boy’s eyes.

Max laughed.

The sound of pure, giggling delight should have brought joy to her, but for some reason it only added to Nicole’s jangled nerves. She gripped her hands together. “Thank you very much for looking after Maddi and Max, and for the hat and—”

He rose to his feet. “No problem, Nicole. It’s my job. It’s what I’m paid to do.” With a quick wave he strode to the front of the truck and in one fluid movement, he swung up into the driver’s seat.

Nicole stood and watched him drive away.

Chapter Five

“I want to come and see it.” Connie’s strident tones crackled over speakerphone.

Erin silenced today’s GPS accent of choice—the hunky Aussie Ken with his distinctive diphthong—as he told her to “turn roight.”

She pulled over. “Connie, Luke Anderson is...”

How did she describe him? Difficult?
Gorgeous.
Pigheaded?
Funny.
Rude.
Eloquent.
Graceless?
Sexy as hell.
“...adamant that he doesn’t want people traipsing over his farm before the day. We don’t want to tick him off and risk him pulling the plug on the idea now we’ve finally got him to say yes.”

Now that Nicole had gotten him to say yes.

“I need to know it’s going to work.” Connie’s voice ratcheted up a notch.

“It’s going to work,” Erin said firmly. “I’ll go check out the field, study the light and shoot a bunch of angles so you can see that it’s all going to be perfect. Then you can relax. How does that sound?”

Erin crossed her fingers and rode out the long silence.

“Okay,” Connie finally replied. “But do it today.”

“Um...” Erin thought about her schedule. “I’ll do my best.”

“I always expect that, Erin.”

The line went dead and Erin pressed the message icon on her phone and texted Nicole. She’d been planning on starting the editing process to give the “Erin Davis” touch to Lindsay and Keith’s wedding photos as soon as she’d finished putting together the package outlining all their album options. She could picture a rustic album complete with photos mounted on handmade paper and using a bark cover to pull the entire package together. It would perfectly reflect the couple’s connection with the land and she was excited about discussing it with them after their short honeymoon. All too often, she fell in love with the final albums and found it a wrench to part with them.

Usually she discussed the package details with the couple at their engagement shoot or when they signed the contract to employ her as their wedding photographer. She smiled at the thought of the two newly signed contracts she had tucked safely in her leather satchel. Counting Connie’s, she now had three weddings to shoot and Nicole had hinted at another two.

Her phone beeped with Nicole’s reply.
Sorry.
Am at the hospital.
Can’t meet you at farm today.

Fabulous.
Erin groaned, remembering the last time she’d seen Luke and how she’d let her usually restrained temper get the better of her. During Lindsay and Keith’s wedding, when she’d been mingling in the crowd and taking photos, she hadn’t seen Luke. She’d almost dropped her camera when she’d heard his richly timbered voice over the PA system. His speech had been pitch-perfect for a crowd that had been partying for a few hours and yet it still honored the bride and groom. It totally reinforced Nicole’s opinion of Luke and had decimated hers. At that moment, her growing suspicions that he’d played her for a fool became an absolute belief.

She hated being played for a fool. Her father had done it to her with false promises she’d believed and she refused to allow any man or woman to do it to her again. Her fury at Luke had simmered from the moment she’d heard his speech and by the time she was free to leave the wedding she’d been so livid, she’d stormed into his milking parlor, guns blazing. He, in turn, had called her on her own behavior, laughed at her and made it clear he still didn’t want her around.

Why couldn’t his brother, Wade, be the guy she had to deal with? He was a total sweetie. She rested her head against the steering wheel feeling like she was between a rock and a hard place. Nicole believed Luke Anderson was the most reasonable of men and Erin wanted to believe her, given she’d been the one to convince him to allow the use of his field. The only problem was, other than his begrudging towing of her car, she’d never glimpsed “reasonable” in any of his dealings with her. In return, she’d lurched between friendly and fuming, only making things harder for herself.

Dumb
,
dumb
,
dumb.
She banged her forehead against the top of the steering wheel, welcoming the physical pain because it was easier than the emotional turmoil she went through every time she came face-to-face with Luke Anderson. He didn’t like her, and she would have been fine with that if he wasn’t the owner of the sunflower field she really needed for Connie and her Memmy entry. He was adamant he wanted to deal with Nicole in regards to the photos and no one else. In a perfect world she’d have followed those instructions to a T but she was an expert on the fact that the world was far from perfect, having learned that particular lesson at fifteen.

What she did know was that if she didn’t send Connie some photos tonight, she’d be hosing down anxious bride fires all day tomorrow. She had no choice. Sucking in a deep breath, she called Luke’s cell.

“Luke Anderson.” His warm and self-assured voice came down the line, sounding business-friendly.

He doesn’t know it’s me.

Just be polite and professional.
“Hi, Luke, it’s Erin. Erin Davis.” She quickly added, “The photographer.”

He gave a resigned sigh. “I know who you are, Erin. Given the drama you’ve managed to create on your three visits to the farm, I’m unlikely to forget you any time soon.”

Just keep going.
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry to bother you—”

“Seriously?” This time he laughed as if she’d cracked an incredibly funny joke. “You’ve been bothering me for two days without apologizing so why start now? What is it this time? Are you lost or bogged? Do I need to bring the tractor or will the truck do? Better yet, is there some other hapless farmer you can call on?”

His laughter was sending delicious and heady shimmers through her, which wasn’t right given they didn’t like each other, not to mention the fact that they reacted like oil and water every time they met. She tossed her hair for reinforcement and thought about the sunflower field. “I’m sure the truck will do fine.”

“Erin? Are you okay?”

She shivered at the way his voice had dropped to a deep and serious bass as if he was actually concerned about her. “I’m fine, but I need to sight the sunflower field today for light levels and to take some photos.”

There was a moment’s silence—one that roared loud in her ears, deafening her. He was going to say
no.
She knew it. She could hear it in that mellow, no-nonsense voice of his and—

“Okay—”

And there was the no.
“I know you’d prefer to deal with Nicole,” her words rushed out, running into each other, “but she’s stuck at the hospital and I prom—”

“Erin.”

The firmness of the tone stopped her yammering. “Yes.”

“I said okay.”

Okay?
“Really?” Her voice came out as a squeak.

“Really.” His amusement poured down the line. “I can say no if you’d prefer.”

“Ah, no, great, thanks.” Relief made her chest relax and she savored the scent of sweet, late-afternoon air sweeping into her lungs.

“Where are you now?”

She reached over, grabbing the GPS, and her fingers brushed the screen. As she told Luke she was on County Hill Road, Ken said loudly and nasally, “Turrrrn around when possible.”

“Is someone with you?” Luke asked.

“Ken, from Australia. I thought he might give me better directions than Patrick from Ireland. It was Patrick’s fault I ended up in your pasture.”

“Be very careful, Erin.” Luke’s voice vibrated in a way that seemed to roll her name in a caress. “I’ve spent time in Australia and those Aussie men will lead you astray every single time.”

Will you?
The thought slammed into her, making her body hot and heavy and her head dizzy. Was she losing her mind or was Luke Anderson actually flirting with her?

She thought about the last time she’d seen him, when he’d tried his best to make sure she didn’t stay at Wade’s cottage.

You are so totally losing your mind.

“Erin, are you there?”

“Yes.” It came out all breathy and she cleared her throat.

“You need to keep driving west—”

“How do I know which way is west?”

She heard him take a breath but at least he didn’t sigh. “The road runs east-west so keep the town behind you and you’re heading west, into the sun. You’ll come to a four-way stop with corn on every side. Take a left at the scarecrow.”

Having seen quite a few scarecrows over the past few days and being very aware that she could easily turn at the wrong one and get horribly lost, she asked, “What’s it wearing?”

“A straw hat and a black bird,” he said sharply. “How the hell should I know? Does it matter?”

His smooth liqueur voice, the one which had wrapped her in wondrous warmth, had vanished, and the abrasive Luke she knew all too well was back.
This
Luke she’d met. With this Luke she knew exactly where she stood. “Actually, I’ve seen quite a few fashion-conscious scarecrows in fields so I take it you dressed this one in flannel and overalls,” she teased him a bit unfairly because she’d never seen him wear either of those things.

“Do you want the rest of the instructions or not?”

“Yes, please.” She grinned happily as she wrote them down.

* * *

Luke saw Erin’s car parked in the space between the gate and the road and he pulled up behind it. He’d driven down to the field because despite giving her detailed instructions on how to get here, he was convinced he’d be getting an “I’m lost” phone call. He’d decided he may as well just come to the field now rather than start something only to be interrupted. Besides, he wanted to make sure she’d closed the gate.

Admit it.
You just want to see her.

He wasn’t anywhere close to ready to concede that. It had been forty-eight hours since he’d last seen Erin and had watched her leave the milking parlor with her laughter ringing in his ears. Forty-six hours since he’d disengaged Marlene’s arms from his neck and her tongue from his ear, tucked her into her motel room bed and come home sober and celibate. It wasn’t supposed to have turned out quite like that, especially given how agreeable Marlene had been to doing exactly what he’d wanted—a fun evening ending in mindless sex, and all for one night only.

However, as the evening with Marlene had progressed, instead of her general agreeableness making him feel like a king, he’d found himself making increasingly outrageous political, social and religious pronouncements to see what it would take for her to disagree with him. The more she continued to say, “You’re so right,” the more he found himself thinking how Erin, with her brilliant green eyes flashing indignantly, would have jabbed him in the sternum with one of her manicured fingers and called him on it.

It made absolutely no sense to walk away from Marlene who stroked his ego just because he was thinking about a woman who didn’t, but that’s what he’d done. It still stunned him and his frustrated libido wasn’t at all happy that his brain had overruled it. He couldn’t believe that even when Erin wasn’t anywhere near him, she was still getting in the way and interrupting his life.

You’re the one interrupting your life.
You’re the one who doesn’t know what he wants.

He whistled Mac from the truck to shut up the rogue thought and then he walked to the gate, checking the chain. “Well, Mac, it looks like she’s in the field and she’s shut the gate behind her.” His palm slapped the top of the fence post. “Job done. Guess we can leave now.”

Mac’s big, brown eyes gave him a quizzical look when he leaned over and unlooped the chain from its anchoring stump, opened the gate and passed through, closing it behind them. Row upon row of sunflower stalks taller than Erin faced him, their large heads bursting, almost ready to flower. Mac trotted happily next to him for a bit and then started barking.

Luke ruffled his ears. “Stay, Mac.”

A white ball of fluff appeared at the end of a row, straining to move forward but going nowhere, and then Erin came into view, holding a leash in one hand and her camera in the other. Her dog yapped and bounced at her feet, desperate to meet Mac nose to nose, but was unhappily restrained by the leash.

“Sit, Maggie-May,” Erin instructed firmly.

Surprisingly, the dog did just that. He and Mac walked up.

Erin checked her watch and astonishment raced across her cheeks. “Don’t tell me you’ve delayed milking just to come check I closed the gate?”

She’s too smart by half.
In her bright yellow, plastic clogs, white skirt and canary-yellow top with black trim, she looked like a happy sunflower in bloom rather than a perceptive woman. “Gates are important.”

She smiled and her nose suddenly fell into perfect proportion to her wide mouth. “I know. You told me
three
times on the phone.”

“It’s farming 101 and I can’t emphasize it enough.” He shoved his hands in his pockets feeling caught out, and his reaction ran parallel to the general discontent that pervaded his life at the moment—like the constant feeling that the farm was controlling him instead of the other way around.

She tilted her head, studying him, and the tips of her hair caressed her chin. “Do you and gates have a history? Did one chase you with a whip and traumatize you as a child?”

He grinned at the image. “Something like that. All I’ll say is that it involved a gate, a happy bull, some surprised cows and a furious father.”

Her eyes lit up with interest. “That sounds like a story worth hearing.”

And oddly he wanted to tell her, only that wasn’t how he was supposed to be feeling because she was everything in a woman he didn’t want. “Put it this way, I’ve never left a gate open since. Now you’re fully briefed on all things gates, you’ll avoid a similar trauma so I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to go and Mac rose to his feet.

“Actually,” her voice cajoled, “seeing as you’re here, can you be my model?”

He spun back, not sure he’d heard right. “What?”

Her smooth hair swung as her mouth formed a wry smile. “It would really help me if you stood in a few different places so I can check the shadows and the light. If I have a person in the photo, Connie will be able to picture it all a lot better.”