One Good Man. Charlotte Douglas

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      Chapter Four

      In the bride’s parlor of the Pleasant Valley Community Church, Jodie set aside her bridesmaid’s bouquet of pale-pink roses and baby’s breath, adjusted Merrilee Stratton’s triple-tiered veil and smoothed a strand of pale-blond hair that had escaped from her friend’s French twist.

      “You look gorgeous,” Jodie said. “There’s nothing prettier than a June bride. Are you nervous?”

      Merrilee shook her head and adjusted the pearl-encrusted neckline of her satin gown. Excitement sparkled in her sky-blue eyes.

      “No second thoughts?” Jodie asked.

      “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. That’s how long I’ve loved your brother.”

      With her stiletto-heeled sandals killing her feet, Jodie sank onto the sofa, careful not to wrinkle the long skirt of her periwinkle-blue satin dress, and pondered how life was full of surprises. Six years ago, Merrilee had moved to New York to pursue her career in photography, and Jodie thought she’d lost her friend to the big city for good. Who would have guessed that Merrilee’s parents, poster couple for happily marrieds, would separate, bringing Merrilee home on the first plane out of New York last March?

      And who would have guessed that, in a few short months, Merrilee would reunite her parents, sell a photographic book on country vets to a major publisher and decide to follow her career in Pleasant Valley as Grant’s wife?

      “I’ve always wanted a sister,” Jodie said.

      “We’ve been like sisters since we were kids. My marrying Grant only makes it official.”

      Cat Stratton, Merrilee’s mother, wearing an elegant designer dress in rose-colored silk that matched her cheeks, breezed through the door. The older woman, Jodie’s high school English teacher and lifelong neighbor, had never looked happier. Evidently, her husband’s midlife crisis had passed, and marital bliss had returned to the Stratton home.

      “Wow, Mrs. Stratton,” Jodie said, “you’re a knockout in that dress.”

      “Thank you, dear. And look at the two of you. Who would ever have thought that the little girls who made mud pies in my backyard would turn into such beauties.” Cat’s eyes brimmed with joyful tears.

      “Thanks, Mrs. S.” To give mother and daughter a private moment, Jodie stood. “I’d better check on Brittany.”

      Jodie slipped out the door, wandered into the meditation garden and headed for a redwood bench beneath a crepe myrtle heavy with bright-pink blooms. Making it through the wedding and reception before her shoes killed her was going to take a miracle.

      At least she didn’t have to worry about running into Jeff Davidson. Grant had invited Jeff and his team to the wedding, but Archer Farm would open officially on Monday. And Jeff had admitted to Grant that, although the new building was almost finished, he had a punch list the size of a book to complete. Jeff, stripped to the waist, muscles rippling, his entrancing gray eyes concentrating on his task, was probably wielding a hammer or a paintbrush now, up to his very broad shoulders in last-minute details. And too far away, thank goodness, to distract Jodie from enjoying the wedding of her brother and her best friend.

      Jodie closed her mind to the enticing picture of the bare-chested Marine. Jeff’s absence suited her just fine. She had succeeded in avoiding him the last four weeks, in spite of his efforts to make contact. She’d had one of her staff or her voice mail field his numerous calls. And she’d slipped upstairs when he’d come into the café looking for her. Even the morning he’d brought his entire team for breakfast. So far she’d eluded him completely.

      Except in her thoughts.

      And her dreams.

      As hard as she tried, Jodie couldn’t scrub the man from her mind, which was all the more reason to keep her distance. Arrogant young Randy Mercer had taught her an indelible lesson. Attractive men who sent her brain into shutdown mode were trouble with a capital T