Lone Star Kind Of Man. Peggy Moreland

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Название Lone Star Kind Of Man
Автор произведения Peggy Moreland
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
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have missed this—” she glanced at her two friends behind her and laughed. “Rather, these weddings for the world.”

      Stephie twirled for Reggie’s benefit, showing off her new dress. “I’m the flower girl and Jimmy’s the ring bearer. He’s a ’fraidy-cat and refused to walk down the aisle, so he gets to stand by the preacher.”

      Remembering the purpose of her errand, she grabbed Reggie’s hand, tugging her to her feet. “Come on! We have to hurry! The preacher said it’s time.”

      Reggie slowly rose, turning her gaze on her two friends. Drawing a deep fortifying breath she reached for their hands. She squeezed, knowing she had to prepare them in some way for what was about to take place, but not at all sure what to say.

      “You’re the best friends a woman could ever ask for and I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” She swallowed and blinked back the tears that clogged her throat, thinking about what was to come. “No matter what happens today,” she said, her voice growing hoarse, “please know that I love you both like family.”

      Before Mary Claire or Leighanna could respond to the odd comment, Reggie took Stephie’s hand and let the child lead her from the room.

      

      Reggie stood behind the screen of ivy that concealed the kitchen doorway from the guests, her hands resting on Stephie’s shoulders, listening with Stephie for the music cue from the harpist. Hearing it, she stooped to press a kiss on the top of the little girl’s head.

      “Remember,” she whispered. “Walk slowly and don’t forget to drop the rose petals.”

      Stephie tipped up her chin, grinning at Reggie. “Don’t worry,” she whispered back. “I won’t forget. I’ve been practicing all morning.”

      Reggie watched the child step into the center of the arbor and turn, selecting a petal from the basket she carried. With a wink at Reggie she dropped it then moved out of sight.

      Reggie pressed a hand to her stomach, knowing that on the other side of the screen of ivy, at the end of the stretch of red carpet, her stepbrother, Harley, waited. What would he do when he saw her? she wondered frantically. Would he cause a scene? Would he demand an explanation for the ten years of silence? Would he even recognize her after so many years?

      And Cody? What would be his reaction? What would be hers on seeing him again?

      Before her fears could carry her further, the screen door opened behind her and Mary Claire and Leighanna stepped out onto the narrow porch, both looking radiant. Mary Claire quickly thrust a single, longstemmed rose into Reggie’s hand and nodded as the music cue sounded for her entrance. With a last wistful look at her two friends, Reggie stepped into the center of the arbor and turned to face those gathered.

      She paused on that spot of carpet, flanked by an arbor of green ivy and baskets filled with a rainbow of roses, carnations and baby’s breath, her fingers clutching tightly at the single rose she held. Her gaze settled instantly on Harley. Dressed in a suit, his hands folded properly in front of him, he was handsome, achingly so, and the mirror image of his father, the stepfather Reggie had loved so dearly.

      Oh, Harley, she cried silently. Please don’t be angry with me for doing this.

      At that moment, his gaze met hers and for a second there was no change in his expression, then slowly, ever so slowly, recognition dawned. His eyes widened, his shoulders stiffened... her name formed wordlessly on his lips. Blinking back tears, she took that first slow step toward him, then the next, her heart crying out for his acceptance, for his forgiveness.

      When she reached him, she stopped, daring to rise to her toes to brush a kiss on his cheek. “Please don’t be angry,” she whispered at his ear. “I’ve come home.”

      His hands closed at her elbows, painfully so, cutting like steel vises into her tender flesh. For a moment, she thought he meant to rebuke her, to cast her away, as she had her family ten years before. But then his grip eased. She felt the tremble in his fingers as he released her, and she lifted her face to his. She nearly wept when she saw the tears that glistened in his eyes. He raised a hand and brushed it tenderly at her cheek as if to assure himself that it was not a ghost standing before him.

      “Regan,” he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper.

      “Later,” she promised softly. “We’ll talk later.”

      At his slight nod, she turned away to take her place on the opposite side of the minister. When she turned back, the music swelled and she shifted her gaze to the arbor just as Mary Claire stepped beneath the arch.

      She watched, emotion tightening her chest, as her friend and soon to be sister-in-law started that slow, life-changing walk down the carpet, unaware of the drama that had just taken place. Once Mary Claire had laced her arm through Harley’s, Leighanna followed, her gaze never once wavering from the man who stood at Harley’s right

      Reggie shifted her gaze to look at him. Hank Braden. She didn’t know him, at least not personally, but like everyone else who’d ever lived in Temptation, she knew him by reputation. You better be good to her, she warned silently as Leighanna took her place at his side.

      The harpist ran her fingers across the strings, then pressed them, silencing the harp as the minister opened his Bible. “Dearly beloved,” he began. “We are gathered here...”

      Then, and only then, did Reggie find the courage to look farther, to the man who stood at Harley and Hank’s right.

      Cody.

      Her heart stuttered to a stop at the sight of him, then kicked into a rib-rattling beat. Like the two friends he stood up for, he was breathtakingly handsome, dressed in a dark western-cut suit and crisp white shirt, his hair freshly trimmed and slick against his head. She’d forgotten how handsome he looked in a suit, for the memories she had locked away in her heart were steeped in jeans and boots, a cowboy hat that changed with the seasons and a warm, lazy smile that had always had the power to both arouse and comfort her.

      At the innocent age of seventeen, she’d thought him grown, mature... a man. As she looked at him, she realized how childish, how foolish her assessment had been, for it was a man who stood before her now. His shoulders had broadened over the years, his chest had filled out, and even from beneath the camouflage of his suit she could see the increased strength in his muscled arms and legs.

      He’d changed so much...and yet so little. Now, like then, she found herself wanting to lean against that strength, to let those muscled arms envelop her as they had so many times in the past, offering comfort and protection from a life that seemed out of her control.

      But Cody seemed unaware of her need. His attention focused on the minister, he listened intently as the vows were exchanged. With all her heart, Reggie willed him to look at her, to let those lips firmed in concentration spread into a welcoming smile directed her way.

      But he didn’t. He kept his gaze on the minister, never once glancing her way.

      “You may kiss your brides.”

      At the minister’s invitation, both Harley and Hank gathered their brides into their arms and kissed them with a fervor that had the guests cheering. Their faces wreathed in smiles, the two couples linked arms and made their way back down the strip of red carpet.

      Reggie knew what came next. She’d served as bridesmaid in enough weddings to know the script by heart. She shifted her gaze back to Cody and found him looking at her. Her breath caught in her lungs as gray eyes met hers. She didn’t know what she had expected from him. A sign of welcome, maybe. A yearning for what might have been. Perhaps even a little regret. But never this cool disregard.

      He offered her his arm, but she could tell that he did so only out of obligation to his duties as best man.

      She tipped up her chin, refusing to give in to the tears that threatened, and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. Heat flooded her body with an awareness of his nearness as he silently walked her down the strip of carpet. Their hips brushed once. Twice.