Longing for Home. Kathryn Springer

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СКАЧАТЬ five days before your wedding,” Kate pointed out.

       “It’s nothing to be concerned about, really. Alex had some…questions…about the reception dinner,” Abby finally admitted.

       “It’s all set. You and Quinn approved the menu. I have everything ready…” Kate stopped. Something in Abby’s expression set off warning bells in her head.

       Alex Porter didn’t have questions. He had doubts. Doubts that a woman who operated a small café had the ability to cater his sister’s wedding reception.

       “He doesn’t think I can do it.” Kate wasn’t sure why, but the thought stung.

       “That’s not it,” Abby said quickly. “Alex just wondered whether you had the time to act as my maid of honor and handle the food for the reception.”

       No doubt he wondered more than that, Kate thought grimly. But just because the Porter hotels boasted award-winning restaurants didn’t mean they were the only ones capable of creating a memorable reception dinner.

       “I told Alex that I trust you completely,” Abby continued. “Not only are you the queen of multitasking, you’re a wonderful cook.”

       Kate was touched by her friend’s loyalty, but Alex’s assumption still rankled. She was forced to take her own advice when it came to dealing with stressful situations.

       Keep your sense of humor.

       “So what does he think is on the menu? Hamburgers and French fries?” Kate even managed a weak laugh.

       Abby joined in. Sort of.

       Kate’s mouth dropped open. “He thinks that all I’m capable of making are hamburgers and French fries?”

       “Not really,” Abby murmured. Unfortunately, the look in her eyes flashed the words “yes, really.”

       Kate could feel the freckles on the bridge of her nose start to glow. “He thinks the Grapevine is a greasy spoon.”

       “It doesn’t matter what Alex thinks.” Abby’s chin lifted. “He’s never eaten at the café.”

       So, yes! A greasy spoon!

       “I told him that you’ve won awards at the county fair…” Kate stifled a groan. She knew her friend meant well, but a first-place ribbon for her triple berry pie and sour apple salsa wasn’t going to impress someone like Alex. “…and just because the café is small, it doesn’t mean that you deep-fry everything and sling hash—”

      “Hash?” Kate squawked.

       “Maybe he didn’t say hash.” Abby bit her lip.

       The familiar gesture, the one Kate saw whenever Abby was trying to find a tactful way to say something—or not to say something—only led to one conclusion.

       He’d said hash.

       Abby must have recognized the look on her face. “Don’t change your mind about catering the reception,” she pleaded. “Alex will eat everything you prepare, and he’ll love it. I promise.”

       The corners of Kate’s lips curved in a slow smile. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to change my mind.”

       Because Alex Porter would eat everything she prepared for the reception dinner…and a generous helping of crow, as well.

       Play nice.

       Those were Abby’s orders.

       But Alex had found a loophole. His sister had been talking about her wedding day. If he arrived in town a few days early, technically those orders hadn’t taken effect yet.

       The truth was, Alex Porter didn’t particularly care for orders unless he was the one giving them. And he didn’t care for orders issued by his kid sister, either.

       Not, Alex grudgingly admitted to himself, that Abby was a kid. Not anymore. But it was hard not to think of her as the fragile, introverted girl he’d single-handedly raised after their parents died while returning home from a business trip.

       One phone call from a sheriff’s deputy that night had changed the course of Alex’s life. At the age of twenty-two and six weeks shy of obtaining his bachelor’s degree, he had inherited the family estate, two hotels and the guardianship of his fourteen-year-old sister.

       After the funeral, an attorney recommended that Alex “liquidate all the assets” in order to “disengage from the weighty responsibilities” that had been placed on him. Alex interpreted the ‘liquidating of all assets’ as polite legalese for disposing of the two hotels his parents had poured twenty years of their blood, sweat and tears into making a success. The “weighty responsibilities?” His only sibling.

       He had dismissed the lawyer’s advice. And the lawyer.

       There’d been little time to grieve as he took charge of the business and Abby, the only other remaining member of the Porter family. Over the years, Alex had done everything in his power to protect them both.

       That’s why Abby’s decision to walk away from the family business—and, if Alex were completely honest, from him—the previous summer had been a difficult one to accept.

       Alex realized now that he should have taken his sister a little more seriously when she claimed she had to follow God’s plan for her life. Whatever that meant. It was fine with him if people chose to look to God for direction, but Alex preferred to make his own plans.

       But because he hadn’t paid attention, Abby had decided to follow the old adage “actions speak louder than words” to prove her point. A point Alex still thought she could have made without turning in her letter of resignation and buying a run-down lodge in northern Wisconsin.

       He figured that Abby would get married one day, but he’d always assumed he would have a little more…input…about the details. Like who she married. And when. And where.

       At the very least, he assumed she would agree to hold the ceremony in Porter Lakeside’s grand ballroom, surrounded by friends who moved within their social circle. But no. Abby had insisted on a simple wedding at the inn she’d opened; the guest list comprised a small group of people Alex didn’t even know.

       His fingers tightened around the leather steering wheel as a gap suddenly opened in the wall of trees and revealed the small town his sister now considered home.

       Mirror Lake.

       There was nothing special about the place that he could see. Certainly nothing special enough to tempt a person to turn their back on everything the Windy City had to offer.

       He cruised down the narrow, paved walkway called Main Street. The large pots of marigolds stationed at the foot of each streetlamp must have been part of a community beautification project of some kind.

       Too bad it had failed.

       A hardware store with hand-printed signs in the window advertised a two-for-one sale on garden hoses. Alex shook his head. Hadn’t these people heard of underground sprinkler systems? Next door, the plate glass windows of the variety store proudly displayed a blinding array of cheap СКАЧАТЬ