The Accidental Bride. Christina Skye

on the firehouse steps meant.

      “You idiot.”

      She jumped when she heard the familiar voice, rough with concern. Then her oldest friend’s strong hands slid around her and gripped tight.

      “Why do you always have to do everything alone, stubborn as a rabid mule?”

      It was a timeworn joke between the four friends. When I need help I’ll ask for it. It was Jilly’s oldest answer to any question. And of course she never asked.

      She whispered the familiar words now, a tear slipping down her cheek.

      “You should have called us! I could strangle you.” But Grace’s hoarse words were full of love and support, despite their anger. “What happened? Were you burned?”

      Jilly took a raw breath. No way to lie. Not to your oldest friend. Not to Grace, whose face held worry and irritation and complete, unqualified love.

      “It happened at dinner. It was right after the tortilla soup and the wood-grilled salmon. I had a beef tartare entrée coming up. The Wagyu beef was perfect, with little marblings that—”

      “Forget the food. What happened, Jilly?”

      “It was—like a fist at my chest. Nausea. Straining to breathe and dizziness. I lost it. Just plain lost it. The doctors say that … it’s my heart. There’s some kind of atrial valve malformation. And when you factor in the stress of my work, plus the physical demands and the long hours …”

      “What’s the diagnosis?”

      “They think—well, that it was a heart attack,” Jilly whispered.

      “No way.” Grace sank down on the bed. “You’re too young for that.”

      “Apparently I’m not.” Jilly took a deep breath. “No more busy Saturday nights at my restaurant. No more Jilly’s Naturals. No more mango tomatillo tamales with espresso chipotle sauce. What am I going to do now, Grace?”

      “We’ll be here. All of us. Caro and Olivia and I. It’s going to be fine.”

      “How can it be fine? All I’m good at is cooking.”

      “Be quiet and listen to me.” Grace gripped Jilly’s shoulders. “You’ve got us and you’ve got the Harbor House. Just remember that. If there’s a way to make this work for you, we’ll think of it together. And if not … then we’ll find a new dream for you to catch and hold. It will be even better than the old ones.”

      “But how will I—”

      “Just trust someone for once, will you? I learned how to trust again, and so can you. Now tell me everything. Start with what happened in the restaurant and all your symptoms. I’m going to do some research. Then you can get another opinion.”

      “Don’t waste your time,” Jilly said softly. Her shoulders slumped as she leaned against Grace. “I saw the X-ray with the shadow. I saw the first lab results. There’s no point in hoping—”

      “There’s always a reason to hope. If you say that again, I’m going to deck you, Jilly O’Hara.”

      Jilly forced a smile. “If you pull out my EKG monitor, I could expire right here. ‘Death by best friend!’ I can see the headlines in the Summer Island Herald now.” Jilly gave a shaky laugh as Grace handed her a tissue and an expensive chocolate bar. “I’m only supposed to eat what they bring me. Nothing else. Tomorrow there are more tests.”

      “I checked with the nurse. One piece is okay. Now dry your eyes and eat. Then we’re going to make a plan of attack.”

      “SHE LOOKED SO SAD, almost as if she was broken. I’ve never seen our Jilly look like that.” Grace sat stiffly in the hospital’s big lounge. Outside, purple clouds swept across the distant foothills. Lightning flashed and shimmered, as restless as Grace’s mood.

      “I’ve never seen Jilly give up. She’s totally single-minded. Nothing stops her,” Caro said worriedly. Her voice came closer to the phone.

      “This thing has. Her doctor says that she’s going to have to change her life 180 degrees or else. No more stress. No more crazy work schedule. Good food, rest and exercise along with medication. Maybe surgery.”

      “Jilly doesn’t know how to relax.” Caro sighed, sounding tired. “She never has. This is all so terrible, Grace. I just wish I could be there with you. When can she leave?”

      “Probably a week. But I’m staying here, so don’t worry. Meanwhile, we’re making a plan. Tomorrow I’ll talk to her cardiologist and then I’m going to get another opinion. But you need to rest, too, Caro. You sound exhausted.” Since Grace’s departure, all the Harbor House repair work had fallen on Caro. Grace hated leaving her friend in the lurch this way. “I’m fine. Things have been intense here, that’s all.”

      “It’s that new contractor, isn’t it? Fire him, will you? You’re too kindhearted by a mile.”

      “But he has three kids and a new baby on the way. And his mother used to work at the animal shelter. I can’t just—”

      “You can and you damned well better, Caro. If you don’t, then I will. Now go get some sleep. The Harbor House will survive. I’ll text you as soon as I know more about Jilly. We’ll make this work out right. We always do, remember?”

      “I remember.” Caro gave a sleepy yawn. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

      “Count on it.” Grace frowned. As soon as she broke the connection, her optimism faded.

      She wanted to be positive for Jilly. She wanted to believe in a sunny world full of possibilities. But how did you argue with X-rays and heart enzyme tests?

      “STOP FIDGETING. READ one of those magazines.”

      Jilly punched at her pillow. “I tried. They’re boring.”

      “Then read that thriller I left you.”

      “It’s stupid. Nobody does ridiculous things like that.” Jilly scowled. “I was rooting for the villain by page ten.”

      “Jilly, I give up. You have to rest. The doctor told you that, remember?”

      “I’m trying. It’s just not easy.” Jilly shifted restlessly. “Can’t you find me a good magazine? Cook’s Illustrated would be perfect. Or maybe Gourmet—”

      “The doctor said no cooking. No more work obsession. You are supposed to relax.”

      Jilly blew out an irritated breath. “How can I relax? My salsa line will be dead if I don’t get back to work. And my wholesale produce contact said—”

      “Talk to the hand.” Glaring, Grace waved her hand in front of Jilly.

      “But—”

      “Rest. Otherwise I’ll bang you with that meat mallet I found in your purse.”

      “Don’t knock the mallet, pal. I lock up really late at night and the parking lot is empty. That thing makes a great defensive weapon.”

      Grace jumped as her cell phone chimed, forgotten in her pocket. It took her a moment to clear her tangled thoughts. “I’ll take this outside.”

      “Sure. Go right ahead. I’ll just sit here and let my brain rot slowly.”

      Grace shook her head as she walked outside. But when she glanced at her phone, she felt the instant wave of joy … and then the crushing worry.

      It was Noah.

      She scanned his text quickly.

      Called Caro. Got an update. How’s the Salsa Diva doing?

      Grace cradled the phone. Noah still caused a flutter at her chest, even after all these months. She hoped that would never go away.