The Boss's Bride. Brenda Minton

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СКАЧАТЬ but he wasn’t really. He fit Bygones. It was as if he’d always been here.

      “Okay, let’s get this over with. But I won’t blame you if you want to leave.” She reached for the truck door, but hesitated before pushing it open. One last minute to catch her breath.

      “I’m with you, Gracie.” He stepped out of the truck and she guessed she had to go, too.

      The only good thing about this moment, other than Patrick at her side, was that the Morgans didn’t appear to be here. She couldn’t exactly be relieved, but that knowledge did help her to take an easy breath as she and Patrick walked up to the two-story farmhouse.

      They were almost to the porch when another car pulled up and parked. Gracie turned and groaned as the driver stepped out. Whitney Leigh, ace reporter. Or as ace as a reporter for the Bygones Gazette could be. And Gracie’s wedding, once the biggest social event of the year, was now the biggest scandal of the decade.

      The screen door of the farmhouse squeaked open. Gracie turned to face her older brother Max. He stepped onto the porch, his girlfriend, Lizzy, close on his heels.

      “About time you showed yourself. Dad’s still in town looking for you.”

      “I’ll call him.” Gracie glanced at her brother and then at Whitney, almost on them now, her blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her glasses settled on her pretty nose.

      Gracie had always liked Whitney, just not right now.

      “Gracie, can we talk?” Whitney smiled at Patrick, a quick smile, not the kind most women gave him.

      “I’d rather not, Whitney.”

      “But I have a lot of questions and people in town are going to want to know.”

      “Know what, Whitney?” Max stepped closer to Gracie’s side and suddenly her brothers were there. Caleb, who was Max’s twin, Jason and Daniel. But not Evan. He hadn’t even planned on attending her wedding.

      Gracie’s eyes stung with unshed tears because Evan had been right. For a year he’d told her something was off with Trent Morgan.

      Patrick stepped away. She knew he intended to leave. She had family. He was just her boss.

      Of course she didn’t need him there with her.

      Whitney moved in a little closer, her eyes darting from Wilson to Wilson, and she wasn’t intimidated. “I think most people are going to ask you if you plan on going through with the wedding. Did you just have a case of cold feet?”

      “I’m not going to marry Trent Morgan.”

      Whitney nodded and then looked at Patrick, a smile appearing on her pretty face. Gracie groaned at that look, but before she could respond, Whitney had another question.

      “Is there any reason for running from your own wedding, Gracie? Have you met someone else?”

      It was on Gracie’s mind to tell the whole truth but she couldn’t. What good would it do to drag Trent Morgan through the mud? It would only serve one purpose—to make her feel better.

      “I haven’t met anyone else, Whitney. You know me better than that. And I’m not going to share the reason I left. Could we please stop this? I’m not news. This is Bygones, not Hollywood, and my wedding isn’t a big deal.”

      “It’s the lack of a wedding that makes this news, Gracie.”

      “Only for a week. Only until someone’s house gets vandalized or someone TPs the school.”

      Whitney smiled sympathetically and touched her arm. “I hope for your sake that’s the truth.”

      “Thank you. And now I have to talk to my family.”

      Max handed her his cell phone. “It’s Dad.”

      She held the phone for a minute because she didn’t know what she would say to her dad, other than to assure him she was okay. Patrick moved away from her.

      “I’ll see you Monday?” he said as he stepped down off the porch.

      “Of course. And thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      Gracie watched Patrick walk to his truck. She would see him Monday at work. And it would be as if this wedding never happened. But then, she guessed the wedding didn’t happen.

      The last thing Patrick expected on Monday morning was the line of people on the sidewalk waiting to get into his store. He glanced out, watching as more cars parked on the crowded street. A few people held coffee cups from the Cozy Cup Café and more than one carried bags from the Sweet Dreams Bakery.

      He hated to say it, but the Bygones Runaway Bride had done more for the Bygones economy than just about every other project the town had come up with. He wouldn’t allow himself to think that it was another ploy by the good citizens, meant to bring business to the failing community.

      Miss Coraline Connolly had had some crazy ideas, but that would be going too far.

      Someone pounded on the back door of the building. He glanced at his watch. Still twenty minutes before he opened at nine o’clock. He gave the crowd one last look, shook his head in amazement and headed for the stockroom. He guessed Gracie had seen the crowd and had opted to enter through the back door in the alley behind the store.

      When he opened the door, it was Miss Coraline, retired principal of the Bygones school system and determined optimist. He’d never met a woman so determined. And she had with her that tiny dynamo of a woman Ann Mars, owner of the This ’N’ That shop. Ann, an active woman in her mid-eighties, had been assigned to be his host and helper when he moved to town.

      The two women were both faithful Christians, and both loved their town, but they were as different as night and day. Miss Coraline, with her short gray hair and dress suits, always seemed in charge. Ann Mars coiled her long white hair on top of her head, smelled like sugar cookies and could sweet-talk a snake out of its skin. She was genuinely nice and made a person want to do things for her. Coraline was dignified. Ann was less than five feet tall and slightly stooped.

      “Welcome, ladies. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

      Miss Coraline spoke first, which seemed to be how she was wired. “As if you don’t know, Patrick Fogerty. We’re here to help with crowd control.”

      He looked at the two women and tried to remain serious. But he smiled; he couldn’t help it. He was picturing the tiny Ann Mars holding back the crowd waiting outside his store. A good wind would blow her over and that crowd could trample her.

      “I’m not sure why I would need crowd control. Isn’t it just your average Monday in Bygones?”

      Ann Mars wagged her finger at him. “Do not play with us, young man. You saw that crowd out there, and it isn’t your…”

      She turned a little pink and Miss Coraline cleared her throat. “What she means to say is that as handsome as you are, that crowd isn’t here to buy drills or nails. They’re here to see if Gracie shows up for work.”

      “I’m СКАЧАТЬ