Welcome Back to Apple Grove (28 page)

He tugged and she fell back into his arms. “I could transfer to the fire department in Columbus; we’d be able to spend more time together.”

She shook her head.

He drew back and stared down at her. “You don’t want to spend more time with me?”

She slowly smiled. “I do, but it’s a long drive from Apple Grove to Columbus every day, and I was just getting used to the forty-five-minute trip.”

He shot to his feet and whirled her around in a circle before pressing his lips to hers. Around and around they went as the kiss deepened and her heart cried with joy. “You talked to your dad? You’re moving back to Apple Grove?”

“Yes,” she told him. “I realized that my dream wasn’t exactly what I’d thought it would be, but I gave it a shot and am ready to go back and do what I do best.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Drive my sisters crazy while I keep them organized in my own color-coded way.”

“I’m crazy about you, Grace Mulcahy.”

“You’re crazy period!” she teased.

“Not exactly what I was hoping to hear,” he grumbled.

“So how about it?” she asked.

He speared his hands into her hair and tilted her head back. When his lips were a breath away from hers, he paused. “How about what?”

Need for this man was making her insane. If he wasn’t going to ask her, she’d ask him. “Want to get married and have babies with me?”

He was quiet for so long Grace thought that she’d made a mistake and rushed things.

He lowered his mouth to hers and rasped, “Can we start now?”

“I’m glad you decided to wait until all of the families could be here,” Mrs. Garahan said to Grace, helping her into the lace and tulle confection she’d wear to say her vows.

“Once we started writing down everyone’s name, I realized that we needed a spreadsheet to coordinate everyone. Ranchers, firefighters, U.S. Marshals—we realized that it was more than just getting time off from work.” Grace stood still while Patrick’s mother fastened the row of tiny pearl buttons up her back.

“There. Oh, you look lovely,” Patrick’s mother told her.

Grace felt like a fairy princess—not that she’d ever aspired to be one, but the dress made her think of all of the times she’d watched Cinderella when she couldn’t sleep after her mother died. She’d felt a connection because Cinderella didn’t have a mother either, but that’s where the similarities ended.

“You’re going to knock him dead,” Kate said with a grin.

She shook her head at her friend. “Oh my God, please don’t say stuff like that today. I can’t believe he spent hours in the ER last night and no one called me.”

“He was with his brothers and his cousins, dear,” Mrs. Garahan reminded her. “If it had been just a cut, either one of his Texas cousins could have stitched him back together—they’ve had to do that once or twice out on their ranch, the Circle G. Would have saved him the trip. But a break…”

“Besides,” Meg said, “you needed your beauty sleep, so you could be extra gorgeous today.”

“If I had known he’d fallen—”

“You would have rushed to Newark to the hospital and ended up getting zero sleep, instead of spending the time relaxing with us and having a fabulous spa-treatment party,” Peggy reminded her.

“But my place was with Patrick,” Grace grumbled. “We’re supposed to be there for one another.”

Mary walked over, took ahold of Grace’s hand, and patted it. “Grace, dear,” she said, “life is too short to worry about something that you cannot change.”

“If you’re going to survive being married to my Patrick,” Mrs. Garahan told her, “you’ll need to learn to be more flexible.”

Meg and Caitlin started to laugh. “Grace, the queen of the spreadsheets? Flexible?”

Grace was starting to get annoyed.

“Now don’t tease the bride, girls,” Mary warned them. “This is Grace’s day, and she just needs to get past this tiny little hiccup. The rest of the day will be just beautiful.”

Grace hugged Mary before turning to Caitlin and asking for the hundredth time, “Are you sure he’s going to be all right?”

“Doc’s never wrong,” Cait said. “He reassured me, Patrick will be fine.”

“My brood was blessed with strong constitutions and bones,” Mrs. Garahan added, stepping back to clap her hands together. “You’re going to knock his socks off.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “He’ll only be wearing one sock today with that cast.”

Mary handed Grace her flowers. “A little thing like a broken ankle won’t hamper your honeymoon, dear. Now stop worrying.”

Meg laughed softly. “Honey B. just texted. Mitch promised the charges would be dropped, so no worries about not being able to leave town for your honeymoon.”

Grace sighed. “Tell me again what Patrick and his cousins were doing trespassing on the water tower?”

“I think there was beer and a lot of machismo involved,” Kate said as she straightened Grace’s veil.

Mrs. Garahan laughed. “Those boys have always been trying to outdo one another every time they get together. The only ones who ever hesitated were Matt and Ben Justiss, their Colorado cousins. Lord were they a handful the last time they all came to Brooklyn to visit.”

A knock sounded on the door. “You ready, baby girl?”

“Ready, Pop!”

Joe Mulcahy opened the door and smiled at his youngest. “You’re beautiful.” He held out his arm for Grace to hold on to. “One look at you, and he’ll forget all about his ankle and the hangover.”

Grace squeezed her father’s arm. “Hangover?”

***

Patrick stood beneath swags of honeysuckle, morning glories, and wild roses waiting for his bride. “What if she changes her mind when she finds out about last night?”

His older brother, Tommy, leaned toward him and said, “She already passed the Garahan sticking test. A little thing like a run-in with the law won’t change her mind.”

Patrick wasn’t worried so much about Mitch. Apple Grove’s sheriff had been there for Grace and Kate. Patrick was prepared to let the late-night trip to the sheriff’s office—and then the lecture Mitch had delivered on the way to the ER—be forgotten.

His cousin Tyler chuckled and helped Patrick to stand up. “Broken ribs didn’t stop me from making love to Emily—you just have to be a little more creative.”

Dan snickered. “You mean flexible? Take my advice, and just pretend it doesn’t hurt and she’ll never know.”

Patrick shook his head. “She’ll be pissed.”

Jack shrugged. “She’ll get over it. Grace is more forgiving than Cait—and Cait came around once I bared my soul to her.”

Patrick’s head began to pound. “Tell me again why I let you guys talk me into rappelling off the water tower?”

“Son, that was the Shiner talking,” Dylan told him.

Jesse handed him his crutches. “Glad we shipped a couple cases of the best brew in Texas out here for the bachelor party.”

Ben frowned at him. “Why couldn’t we just have kept drinking? Who was it that dared him to do it?”

Dylan cleared his throat. “Might have been me. A couple beers go to my head these days. I don’t drink as much as I used to.”

“Family man,” Tyler quipped.

“If our boss gets wind of last night—” Ben began.

“Hell,” Matt interrupted, “he’ll just add that to the list of infractions. Good thing our stellar performance on the job still outweighs the trouble we get into from time to time.”

The pain in Patrick’s ankle eased once he leaned on the crutches.

Reverend Smith walked up to the men. “Are you ready?”

One of Patrick’s cousins hollered, “Hell yeah!”

Patrick grinned. “Let’s do this.”

***

Grace smiled as she walked toward the arbor in her backyard and the broad-shouldered man leaning on crutches. If not for that one glitch, it would have been the wedding of her dreams. The sun was bright, and the sky, clear blue. Kate and Peggy had outdone themselves decorating the cake—deep purple icing with pale yellow and lavender pansies swirled from the tiny top layer all the way around to the bottom. Rumor had it that it was a red velvet cake underneath all of that purple.

Mary, with the help of Mrs. Garahan and Grace’s sisters, had decorated with yards and yards of tulle and deep purple satin ribbon. Her brothers-in-law and Patrick’s cousins had helped her father set up the rows of chairs and tables where the food would be served.

Neither she nor Patrick had been allowed to lift a finger, which, considering his injury last night, was the least they could do.

Miss Trudi and Mrs. Winter were seated next to Mr. Weatherbee. Honey B., Mitch, and their kids were in the row in front of them. Rhonda was videoing the wedding and reception as her gift to the bride and groom. Everyone who mattered in Grace’s life was here to share in her day.

Halfway to the arbor, the realization struck that she should have known she was getting in over her head when Patrick’s cousins arrived from both coasts, bringing with them the tools of their trade: lassos, spurs, handcuffs, and a fireman’s hat with her name on it as a wedding present. What she hadn’t counted on was those same men trying to get her fiancé killed last night. The fall from the top of the water tower could have broken his neck.

Seeing Patrick all in one piece—even though he was in a cast and on crutches—eased most of her worry. When her father put her hand in Patrick’s, she felt his warm, firm grip and knew she was ready for the wild ride that would be the rest of their lives.

Her father brushed a finger along her cheek and nodded to Patrick. “You take better care of my baby girl than you have yourself,” he whispered, frowning down at Patrick’s cast. “I still have that contact in the coast guard and a rowboat with your name on it—in the Aleutian Islands.”

Patrick’s face grayed.

“Pop, what—”

“Man talk, Grace.”

Reverend Smith cleared his throat and beamed at the couple before winking at her. “You think you’ll stay awake through the ceremony, Grace?”

Her father’s rumbling chuckle sounded in harmony with Reverend Smith’s before the clergyman drew in a breath and began, “Dearly beloved—”

Grace looked up into the handsome face of the man she was going to love for the rest of her life and repeated the vows they’d written together. “I, Grace Mulcahy, promise to love you, honor you, and keep you on your toes for the rest of your life.”

As family, friends, and neighbors chuckled, Patrick repeated his. “I, Patrick Garahan, vow to love you, honor you, and give you those six children we talked about.”

While his brothers and cousins burst into laughter, he added, “Or die trying.”

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss—”

The hooting and hollering grew to a crescendo as the groom tossed his crutches to his brothers, dipped his bride, and kissed her.

A Taste of Home Cooking from Apple Grove

Gram’s Boston Cream Pie

The first time I baked this cake was to impress my then-boyfriend DJ. He loved it so much he hung around to see what I’d bake next. FYI, he’s still hanging around our kitchen to see what I’m baking. ~ C.H.

¼ cup butter (or margarine)

1 cup sugar

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

2 eggs, well beaten

1¾ cup sifted cake flour

¼ teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ cup milk

Cream the butter, adding the sugar gradually. Add vanilla and eggs, beat well. Sift the dry ingredients and add to the creamed mixture alternately with the milk, beating after each addition. Line two layer cake pans with wax paper. Pour mixture into the cake pans and bake in a moderate oven at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. When cool, put together with cream filling—recipe follows—top with confectioner’s sugar.

Cream or Custard Filling

¾ cup sugar

5 tablespoons flour or 2½ tablespoons cornstarch

¼ teaspoon salt

2 cups scalding milk

2 eggs, well beaten, or 4 egg yolks

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Mix sugar, flour, and salt together in a double boiler, add hot milk gradually, stirring constantly. Cook until mixture thickens. Pour a small amount over the eggs and mix thoroughly. Add to the first mixture and cook for two minutes. Remove from heat and cool. Add vanilla.

A special thank you to Sean McGoldrick, firefighter with the FDNY, for taking the time out of his busy schedule to be interviewed. His insight—and promise not to laugh when I asked dozens of questions—helped with the characterization of the hero, Patrick Garahan. Any mistakes or misinterpretations are my own.