By four o’clock that afternoon, Tess was glad she’d invited her friends over for coffee. She laughed at something Molly said and felt the day’s dramas melting away.
The Irish photographer laughed back. “It’s true. He said he’d had a grand time on our first date. When he told me he was looking for a wife, I didn’t know what to say.”
“I hope you said no.” Sally reached for her coffee and stopped when Molly didn’t reply. “You did say no, didn’t you?”
Molly’s cheeks turned red. “I married Rowan six months later.”
Annie’s mouth dropped open.
Molly looked slowly around the table. “He was charming and handsome. He whispered the poetry of Yeats and Moore in my ear.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It warmed my heart to be with him.”
“What happened?” Tess asked. “He didn’t come to Montana with you.”
“He ran off with a barmaid from County Kerry a few months after we were married. I was naive and foolish.”
“At least you were able to be foolish.” Annie bit into her cookie.
“Well don’t keep us in suspense,” Tess said. “Tell us what happened.”
“That’s a story for another time.” Annie glanced at another table and frowned. “Did anyone see the article in today’s paper about the house burglary?”
“You’re changing the subject,” Molly said.
Annie shook her head. “It’s really sad. Wait here…” She walked across the café and picked up a newspaper. She opened it to the first page and handed it to Tess. “The house was burgled while the owners were visiting the bride-to-be’s mom in the hospital. They’re getting married in two weeks’ time and their bridesmaids’ dresses were stolen.”
Tess skimmed through the article. “No insurance,” she muttered. “Why do people do that?”
“Can’t afford it or don’t think anything will ever happen to them.” Sally looked over Tess’ shoulder. “They lost everything. That’s sad.”
“The bride’s mom has got breast cancer,” Annie added. “They can’t delay the wedding in case she doesn’t make it.”
Tess gave the paper to Sally. “It doesn’t sound as though they’ve got much money.” She knew what it felt like to not know where your next meal was coming from. But at least she’d had a roof over her head and grandparents who didn’t mind taking in an angry thirteen-year-old.
Tess watched Sally finish the article and pass it to Molly. “A couple of months ago we were talking about always being bridesmaids and never brides.”
Sally frowned. “Was that the one where we were also discussing our non-existent love lives?”
Tess nodded. “How many bridesmaids’ dresses have we got between the four of us?”
“I know where you’re going with this.” Sally grinned. “I’ve got eight.” She smiled at Annie’s shocked gasp. “What can I say. Cupid keeps missing me with his arrow.”
“I’ve never been a bridesmaid,” Molly said. “But I’m sure some of the brides I’ve photographed would be happy to donate their bridesmaids’ dresses.”
“I’ve got two,” Annie said.
Tess added up how many weddings she’d been a bridesmaid for. “I’ve got seven. We could easily help the couple in the paper.” She looked around the table waiting to hear what everyone else thought.
Sally frowned. “What if they’re the wrong sizes, or the bride wants the same colors and styles? We’ve got seventeen dresses, but they’re all different.”
“We could make a catalog,” Molly said. “I could take photos of each dress. We could add the sizes and the skirt length. It wouldn’t take much to match a bridesmaid up with a dress. If the bride wants the same color, she can dye them.”
Tess ran behind the sales counter and picked up a pen and her notebook. “It could work.” She sat back down at the table and started making notes. “How many bridesmaids’ dresses do we need for the bride in the newspaper?”
Molly looked down at the article. “Four.”
“There must be four dresses she’d like,” Annie said. “Who is the bride?”
Molly ran her finger over the article. “The bride-to-be is Estelle and her fiancé is Darren. There are no last names.”
Tess wrote a question mark beside their names. “We know her mom is in the hospital and that the wedding is in two weeks’ time. It shouldn’t be that hard to find them.” She tapped her pen against her lips. “We should find the person who wrote the article.”
Annie smiled. “I believe the reporter’s name is Logan Allen.”
Tess looked up from the notes she was writing. “You’re joking?”
“I kid you not,” Annie said. “Aren’t you lucky you made him pancakes this morning?”
She might have made him pancakes, but she’d also annoyed him. “I think Sally should talk to him.”
Sally shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’ve known Logan a lot longer than I have. He’s all yours.”
Tess looked at Molly.
“Don’t look at me with those big blue eyes,” Molly said. “Sometimes a woman needs to live a little dangerously. And he’s such a charmer.”
Tess knew Logan was charming when he needed to be, ruthless if it suited the occasion. She passed Molly another muffin. “Please, Molly. You like men that are charming. You could talk him into giving you the information we need to find the bride and groom.”
“I ended up married to the last man that charmed me. So no, Logan is all yours. But I will have that muffin you’re holding under my nose as a bribe.”
Tess dropped her head onto the table. “You’re all so mean.”
Sally laughed. “I bet Logan could be really mean, too. Especially if he’s got something you need.”
“Exactly. That’s why someone else needs to go.” Everyone looked at Tess with smiles on their faces.
“Okay,” she muttered. “I’ll go and see him on Monday.”
Molly left the newspaper article in the middle of the table. “Monday will be too late. We have two weeks to find the bride, see if she wants our help and make sure all of the dresses fit the bridesmaids. You need to see Logan by tomorrow at the latest.”
“It’s Sunday tomorrow,” Tess squeaked. She didn’t want to see him at his home. It was bad enough having to go into his office.
“Molly’s right. We need to do something now.” Sally jumped up from her seat and picked up her bag. “Let’s check the online phone directory. There can’t be that many men called Logan Allen in Bozeman.”
Tess hoped he had an unlisted number, but knowing Sally, it wouldn’t make any difference. She seemed to know most people around town, or someone who knew someone else.
Sally balanced her tablet on her knees and tapped the screen. “Bingo. 86 Harry Shaw Lane. Here’s his phone number.”
She passed the tablet across to Tess and she wrote his address and phone number in her notebook. “What if he won’t talk to me?”
“Any man who buys buttermilk at five thirty in the morning and helps make pancakes won’t ignore a bride in distress.” Annie sounded so sure of herself that Tess felt a little better.
“Even if he doesn’t like you, he’ll want to help,” Sally added.
“I don’t know whether you’re trying to make me feel better or worse, but I’ll do it. I’ll go and see him today. After he’s told me the bride’s name, I’ll send everyone a text.”
Sally held her coffee mug in the air. “Here’s to making a bride’s dreams come true.”
Tess clinked her mug against everyone else’s.
She only hoped that making a bride’s dream come true wouldn’t turn into her worst nightmare.