A Simple Wedding Read online

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Lemon Bars

  Sneak Peek of A Cottage Wedding

  About the Author

  A Simple Wedding

  Copyright @ 2019 Leigh D. Duncan

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Print: 978-1-947892-38-5

  eBook: 978-1-947892-47-7

  www.hallmarkpublishing.com

  Chapter One

  The tires of the delivery van brushed the curb at the corner of Bridal Carriage Way and Procession Avenue.

  “Easy does it,” Nick Bell coached his young assistant. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. The momentary jump in his heart rate returned to normal when four tiers of the palest pink confection barely wobbled. “We have plenty of time—two hours till the reception. Trust me when I say neither of us wants to answer to the bride, or the rest of Heart’s Landing, if anything happens to this cake.”

  “You got it, boss.” Though sweat beaded on his upper lip, Jimmy nodded dutifully from behind the wheel. The young man slowed the van to a crawl.

  Turning to peer out the windshield, Nick traced the hedge-lined drive that curved toward one of the most photographed sights in the state. The rays of the setting sun reflected off the white masonry of the Captain’s Cottage, giving the turn-of-the-century home a golden aura. With its wide verandas and stately architecture, the manor stood as an elegant reminder of simpler times. No wonder brides from across the country chose this spot to exchange their vows.

  The slight tension between his shoulder blades eased while the tires rolled past the meticulously maintained “cottage” that would have been called a mansion if it had been built anywhere but on the coast of Rhode Island. Situated not much more than a stone’s throw south of Newport, where the uber-rich had once summered on sprawling estates with names like The Breakers and Rosecliff, the house Captain Thaddeus Heart built might have faded into obscurity if his granddaughter hadn’t married into the Rockefeller clan. But when she’d glided down the circular staircase of the family’s summer home in a wedding that had turned the socialites of the day all misty-eyed, brides across the country had declared Heart’s Landing the place to get married.

  It had been ever since.

  “Turn there.” Nick pointed to a discreet sign directing deliveries around to the rear of the three-story cottage and away from the arched openings of the wide veranda, the porte cochere that protected arriving and departing guests, and the tall, mullioned windows flanked by towering black shutters.

  He forced himself to relax. He didn’t need to second-guess his assistant. Though Jimmy was freckle-faced and barely sported enough peach fuzz to require shaving on a daily basis, the young driver had been born and raised in Heart’s Landing. He, along with the good citizens for miles around, knew the importance of getting each detail right in a town that had staked its reputation on providing “a perfect wedding for every bride.” From Forget Me Knot Flowers on Bridal Carriage Way to the Perfectly Flawless Day Spa on Honeymoon Avenue, from Tux or Tails to the Dress For A Day bridal salon, businesses in town catered to every whim of brides, grooms, and their guests. They were so good at what they did, in fact, that the village had been repeatedly named one of America’s most sought-after wedding destinations by none other than Weddings Today.

  A standing Nick and Jimmy would do their best to uphold.

  This time, when Jimmy took the fork onto the pathway that looped around the Captain’s Cottage, the van’s precious cargo barely shimmied. Nick lowered his window. In the distance, the green ocean glistened. The sound of breakers crashing against the rocky shore rose above the crunching sound the tires made on the pavement. In the cooler temperatures of a late afternoon, the heady scent of blooming azaleas mingled with the air’s salty tang. The flowers were direct descendants of the original stock Captain Thaddeus Heart had brought from Japan for his wife’s twenty-fifth birthday. Rumor had it, the plants had survived the long voyage carefully wrapped in burlap bags and stowed in the captain’s own quarters, where his cabin boy had been tasked with keeping the roots damp with precious fresh water. Now, the flowers dotted the grounds of the family home. Though Nick always enjoyed his visits here, he especially liked making deliveries in late spring, when clumps of brilliant buds colored the landscape and perfumed the air.

  The van rolled to a stop. Behind the house that had been passed down from one generation of Hearts to another for well over a century, panel trucks and other vehicles crowded a wide asphalt apron. Through his open window, Nick waved to Mildred Morrey, the owner of Forget Me Knot Flowers. The spry senior citizen hurried past, her ready smile and silvery hair barely visible behind an immense spray of roses the exact same shade of pale pink as the buttercream frosting Nick had spread over each cake tier. Next came Roy Rolland. Lugging a tri-pod and an oversized shoulder bag, the videographer gave Jimmy a jaunty wave before darting across the road in front of them. Closer to the house, a bevy of assistants and staff toted items ranging from trays of crystal wine goblets to photos of the lucky couple up a wide incline and through the double doors at the back of the house.

  “Is it always like this? Where are we supposed to park? There’s no room left.” Jimmy’s jaw hung open.

  “Yeah. We’ll wait here a minute.” Turning away from the blur of activity, Nick felt a smile tug at one corner of his mouth. When he’d caught his first glimpse behind the scenes of the Cottage in full wedding prep mode, his reaction had been much like Jimmy’s. It hadn’t taken long before he’d figured out the system beneath all the bustling about. In the distance, the few who didn’t mind a bit of a walk hefted bins from the trunks of cars parked on the far side of the lot. Those with heavier or more fragile loads patiently waited their turn for a spot closer to the back entrance. Nick ran his fingers along the crease on one leg of his crisp white pants while, with a tip of his cap, the driver of a truck bearing the Food Fit For A Queen logo pulled away from the house.

  “Okay, now it’s our turn.” He pointed to the open parking spot. “Think you can back us in there?”

  “Sure.” Despite Jimmy’s confident tone, his fingers on the steering wheel tightened until the tips turned white. Cautiously, he eased the van into the place.

  Nick raised his window. So far, so good. “Once we get the cake and our equipment inside, I want you to come back out and move the van so the next in line can use the space. Got it?” He nodded to the delivery truck from a local winery idling on the driveway behind them.

  “Yes, sir.” Jimmy shifted the gears into park and set the brake. />
  Moments later, Nick held his breath while he and Jimmy gently guided the cake onto a rolling cart. The duffel bag he’d packed to the brim with the tools of his trade, along with tubs of icing and marzipan, came next. He tucked it onto a shelf beneath a pleated white skirt. After straightening the edges of a decorative pink bow, he added the box containing a dozen cupcakes to the rest of the gear. He smiled down at the miniature copies of the wedding cake, his surprise gift for the bride and groom.

  Always give them more than they ask for, his dad had coached. It was a tradition Nick intended to pass along to the next generation, if he was ever lucky enough to have a son or a daughter of his own.

  A quick scan of the cargo area satisfied him that they’d left nothing behind. He signaled Jimmy. Moving in tandem, they slowly rolled the cake up the ramp.

  “Okay, come straight back after you park the van,” he told his assistant once they’d reached the airy rear foyer.

  The boy’s shoulders slumped, and no wonder. A big wedding reception like this one required a cast of hundreds. With so much motion and color and noise in play, Jimmy probably wanted to explore a little. But there’d be time enough for that once they’d done their job. Nick threw the young helper an encouraging smile. “You can take a break after we get things set up in the ballroom.”

  As for himself, he wasn’t budging. Someone had to stand guard over their masterpiece from the moment it left the delivery van until every guest had received a slice. In the ten years since he’d inherited the bakery from his dad, the founder of I Do Cakes, Nick had broken that rule only once. It was a mistake he wasn’t likely to make again. Though he’d only stepped away for a minute to take an important phone call, sixty seconds had been long enough for a young ring bearer to make a mad dash through the kitchen, helping himself to a handful of icing along the way. Only the grace of God and a half-dozen strategically placed wooden dowels had held that cake upright instead of letting it cascade onto the floor. Nick had counted his blessings and repaired the damage. Still, it had been a close call, one he never wanted to repeat. From then on, either he or his assistant watched over their treasure like a mama hen hovered over a single chick.

  “I’ll wait here until Alicia calls for us,” Nick said to Jimmy’s retreating back. He stole a glance down the long hallway filled with people who, in one way or another, would ensure the reception went off without a hitch. When he didn’t spot Alicia Thorn’s matronly figure moving through the crowd, he propped one shoulder against the wall and settled in to wait.

  Somewhere behind him, a wheel squeaked. Nick quickly stepped into the space between his cart and an overloaded one that lumbered the last few inches up the ramp and into the foyer. Behind a monstrous pile of boxy frames and sheeting, he spotted JoJo Moss’s sparkling green eyes and chestnut hair. Wearing an impish grin, the girl reached out a finger as if to steal a taste of icing.

  “You stay away from my cake, JoJo, or I’ll tell Aunt Doris on you.” Nick tempered the warning with a smile. His cousin took weddings as seriously as everyone else in town. She wouldn’t damage the cake any more than she’d risk upsetting her mother. “Need some help?”

  “Nah. I got it. Sally’s already inside.” Both hands back on the cart’s push bar, JoJo moved forward. “Stop by when we get everything set up, and we’ll take a picture together.”

  “If I have a chance. We’re cutting this one a little close.” He tapped his watch.

  “Oh, you always say that.” Looking at the cake, JoJo whistled softly. “Nick, I think you’ve outdone yourself this time.” She licked her lips. “Chocolate?” she asked, her voice full of hope.

  “You’ll have to wait to find out along with everyone else.” The flavors chosen by the bride and groom were such closely guarded secrets he didn’t even share them with his family.

  “Well, whatever it is, save me a piece.” JoJo wiggled her fingers and moved along, intent on erecting the photo booth in one corner of the reception hall before the first of the guests arrived.

  Through the kitchen’s swinging doors, Nick spied Janet Hubbard, proprietor of Food Fit For A Queen. The tall chef gave instructions to a dozen or so young people decked out in tuxedoes. “Remember, you’re here to serve our guests. Not huddle in the corners talking to one another. Smile and circulate, that’s what I want you to do. Any questions?”

  In the pause that followed, she and Nick traded amused glances. He and Janet had worked dozens of weddings together, and she always gave the same little speech. Most of her servers were students from the local college who’d worked a reception or two before. They rarely asked questions. This time was no exception.

  After half a beat, Janet continued. “Tonight’s appetizers include mushrooms stuffed with sage sausage, skewers of roasted vegetables drizzled with a balsamic demi-glace, bacon-wrapped scallops, and shrimp cocktail shooters. I’ve laid out a selection on the table behind you. Try them, and don’t be afraid to recommend your favorites to our guests.”

  Nick spotted Jimmy’s lanky form striding through the entry and checked his watch. The kid had hardly been gone long enough to move the van, much less go on an unauthorized tour. He gave the young man the thumbs-up sign. With more and more brides planning their weddings in Heart’s Landing, he’d been looking for a dependable helper to train as his apprentice. Someone who took the responsibility as seriously as he did. So far, Jimmy gave every sign of filling that slot.

  “What now, boss?”

  “Relax for a minute, but keep an eye out for Alicia Thorn. You know her?”

  Solemnly the boy nodded. “She goes to our church.”

  “She’ll be along any second now to say they’re ready for us. Once we get everything set up inside, you can take that break I promised.”

  While Jimmy thumbed through texts on his cell phone, they waited for the signal to move to their table in the ballroom. Barely ten minutes passed before Nick spotted a familiar figure moving toward them at a brisk pace.

  “Sorry for the delay.” Alicia’s words rang throughout the wide hall. As she closed the gap between them, her voice dropped to a whisper. “The MOB insisted on changing the seating chart at the last minute. It took a moment to work out.”

  Nick grinned. Mothers of the brides were well-known for last-minute requests. No doubt Alicia had handled this one with the same grace and professionalism she’d applied to every situation during her thirty-year tenure as the Captain’s Cottage event coordinator.

  Alicia’s mouth formed a small O as her gaze shifted over his shoulder. “I swear, I’ve gained two pounds just looking at that cake, Nick. It’s exquisite, and each one you make is lovelier than the one before it. I can’t wait to see what you bake for your own special day.” She arched one finely drawn eyebrow. “Any idea when that might be, hmmm?”

  “Not anytime soon.” He paused to let his lips shift into a slight grin. “Unless you’re back on the market. I’d whisk you away in a red-hot minute.”

  Deep and throaty, Alicia’s laughter rang out. “I think Mr. Thorn would have something to say about that. But all kidding aside, any prospects?”

  “There’s not exactly a wealth of possibilities.” His cheeks warmed. He didn’t really want to discuss his love life within hearing of his young employee.

  Not that there was much to say. Sure, he’d had his share of girlfriends. Even one relationship that had gotten pretty serious before he’d discovered she wasn’t the person he’d thought she was and broke things off. He’d tried online dating services, had even gone out on a couple of blind dates arranged by friends. None of them had panned out.

  Lately, it seemed like most of the women he met had already found their Mr. Right. He glanced through a nearby window at the flowers. The odds of him finding a likely candidate hidden among the azalea blossoms were slim or next to none. So, no. He’d never found the right woman, the one he wanted raise a family and spend the rest of his life
with. Now, with his thirtieth birthday a scant year away, he often wondered if he ever would.

  “Well, let me know if you meet someone special. I’d love to reserve the grand ballroom for you before I retire.” Alicia paused, her lips straightening into full lines as her gaze returned to the cake. “But are you sure this bride wanted pink? Doesn’t it clash with the rest of her color scheme? Everything else is blue and yellow.”

  “No way!” Having lost interest in his phone while Nick and Alicia talked, Jimmy voiced a quick protest.

  “Hang on there, bud.” Nick held one hand like a stop sign when his young charge would have argued the point. Tut-tutting, he turned to the event coordinator. “You shouldn’t tease the boy. You’ll just get him riled up over nothing. He doesn’t know you like I do, and he’ll think you’re serious.” It had taken a few years, but he’d grown to appreciate how Alicia’s humor helped everyone stay relaxed during the harried preparations.

  “Yeah, Jimmy, relax.” Beneath a stubby nose, the thin lines at the corners of Alicia’s mouth deepened into a grin. “It’s all good.” To Nick, she added, “You gonna stand there all day?”

  “No, ma’am!”

  Though he was perfectly capable of wheeling the cart with its delicate cargo across the hardwood floors and into the main ballroom, Nick handed the honor off to his young protégé. Instead, he walked ahead, setting the pace and warning his assistant of the bumps and rough patches that gave the hundred-twenty-five-year-old house its character.

  At the threshold to the grand ballroom, they lingered long enough to let Jimmy drink in the atmosphere of a room where the elite of America’s society had once danced to the music of the Original Dixieland String Band, Benny Goodman, and Louis Armstrong. Glossy hardwood floors stretched half the length of a football field from the entry to the fireplace at the opposite end. In recent years, the hand-crafted wainscoting had been carefully restored to a lustrous finish. The dark wood contrasted with the pale-green walls. Ornate, carved crown molding circled a vaulted ceiling that boasted not one, but two crystal chandeliers the size of small cars. Beneath them, garlands of roses in the bride’s chosen shade of pink draped the arched entryways.