“Give it up. Susan’s going to be a beautiful bride.”
“Who’s going to be working the wedding?” he asked, advancing toward her.
“I am, of course. Together with Nancy. You met her last week.”
He nodded, remembering the pleasant, competent young woman who’d come to one of their meetings. Savannah often contracted her to help out at larger events.
“Since Nancy’s going to be there, you can attend as my date and leave the work to her.”
“Nash, will you please listen to reason? I can’t be your date.... I know it’s short notice but there are plenty of women who’d enjoy—”
“We have an agreement,” he reminded her.
“I realize that, but—”
“I won’t take no for an answer, Savannah, not this time.”
She stiffened. Nash had witnessed this particular reaction on numerous occasions. Whenever he asked her out, her pride exploded into full bloom. Nash was well acquainted with how deeply entrenched that pride was.
“Nash, please.”
He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. His mouth grazed her fingertips. “Not this time,” he repeated. “I’ll pick you up just before we meet to have the pictures taken.”
“Nash...”
“Be ready, Savannah, because I swear I’ll drag you there in your nightgown if I have to.”
* * *
Savannah was in no mood for company, nor was she keen on talking to her mother when Joyce phoned that same evening. She’d done everything she could to persuade Nash to change his plans. But he insisted she be his date for Susan’s wedding. Indeed, he’d blackmailed her into agreeing to it.
“I haven’t heard from you in ages,” her mother said.
“I’ve been busy with the last-minute details of Susan Davenport’s wedding.”
“She’s Nash’s sister, isn’t she?”
Her mother knew the answer to that. She was looking for an excuse to bring Nash into the conversation, which she’d done countless times since meeting him. If Savannah had to do that wager over again, she’d handle it differently. Her entire day had been spent contemplating various regrets. She wanted to start over, be more patient, finish what she’d begun, control her tongue, get out of this ridiculous “date” with Nash.
But she couldn’t.
“Your father’s talking about taking a trip to the ocean for a week or two.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Savannah had been waiting all summer for them to get away.
“I’m not sure we should go....”
“For heaven’s sake, why not?”
“Oh, well, I hate to leave my garden, especially now. And there’ve been a few break-ins in the neighborhood the last few weeks. I’d be too worried about the house to enjoy myself.” The excuses were so familiar, and Savannah wanted to scream with frustration. But her mother had left out the real reason for her uncertainty. She didn’t want to leave Savannah. Naturally, her parents had never come right out and said that, but it was their underlying reason for staying close to the Seattle area.
Savannah had frequently tried to discuss this with them. However, both her parents just looked at her blankly as if they didn’t understand her concerns. Or they changed the subject. They didn’t realize what poor liars they were.
“Have you seen much of Nash lately?” Her mother’s voice rose expectantly.
“We’ve been working together on the wedding, so we’ve actually been seeing a lot of each other.”
“I meant socially, dear. Has he taken you out? He’s such a nice young man. Both your father and I think so.”
“Mother,” Savannah said, hating this, “I haven’t been dating Nash.”
Her mother’s sigh of disappointment cut through Savannah. “I see.”
“We’re friends, nothing more. I’ve told you that.”
“Of course. Be sure and let me know how the wedding goes, will you?”
Seeing that Nash had spared little expense, it would be gorgeous. “I’ll give you a call early next week and tell you all about it.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, Mom, I promise.”
Savannah replaced the receiver with a heavy heart. The load of guilt she carried was enough to buckle her knees. How could one accident have such a negative impact on so many people for so long? It wasn’t fair that her parents should continue to suffer for what had happened to her. Yet they blamed themselves, and that guilt was slowly destroying the best years of their lives.
* * *
Nash arrived at Savannah’s house to pick her up late Saturday afternoon. He looked tall and distinguished in his black tuxedo and so handsome that for an awkward moment, Savannah had trouble taking her eyes off him.
“What’s wrong?” he said, running his finger along the inside of his starched collar. “I feel like a concert pianist.”
Savannah couldn’t keep from smiling. “I was just thinking how distinguished you look.”
His hand went to his temple. “I’m going gray?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Distinguished is the word a woman uses when a man’s entering middle age and losing his hair.”
“If you don’t get us to this wedding, we’re going to miss it, and then you really will lose your hair.” She placed her arm in his and carefully set one foot in front of the other. She rarely wore dress shoes. It was chancy, but she didn’t want to ruin the effect of her full-length dress with flats. Nash couldn’t possibly know the time and effort she’d gone to for this one date, which would likely be their first and last. She’d ordered the dress from New York, a soft, pale pink gown with a pearl-studded yoke. The long, sheer sleeves had layered pearl cuffs. She wore complementary pearl earrings and a single-strand necklace.
It wasn’t often in her life that Savannah felt beautiful, but she did now. She’d worked hard, wanting to make this evening special for Susan—and knowing it would be her only date with Nash. She suspected there was a bit of Cinderella in every woman, the need to believe in fairy tales and happy endings, in true love conquering against impossible odds. For this one night, Savannah longed to forget she was crippled. For this one night, she wanted to pretend she was beautiful. A princess.
Nash helped her across the yard and held open the door for her. She was inside the car, seat belt buckled, when he joined her. His hands gripped the steering wheel, but when he didn’t start the car, she turned to him.
“Is something wrong?”
He smiled at her, but she saw the strain in his eyes and didn’t understand it. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful, I can hardly keep my hands off you.”
“Oh, Nash,” she whispered, fighting tears. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She shook her head, knowing she’d never be able to explain.
The church was lovely. Savannah had rarely seen a sanctuary decorated more beautifully. The altar was surrounded with huge bouquets of pink and white roses, and their scent drifted through the room. The end of each pew was decorated with a small bouquet of white rosebuds and gardenias with pink and silver bows. The effect was charming.
Seated in the front row, Savannah closed her eyes as the organ music swelled. She stood, and from the rustle of movement behind her, she knew the church was filled to capacity.
Savannah turned to see Nash escort his sister slowly down the center aisle, their steps in tune to the music. They were followed by the bridesmaids and groomsmen, most of them recruited late, every one of them delighted to share in Susan and Kurt’s happiness.
Savannah had attended a thousand or more weddings in her years as a coordinator. Yet it was always the same. The moment the music crescendoed, her eyes brimmed with tears at the beauty and emotion of it all.
This wedding was special because the bride was Nash’s siste
r. Savannah had felt a part of it from the beginning, when Susan had approached her, desperate for assistance. Now it was all coming together and Susan was about to marry Kurt, the man she truly loved.
Nash was uncomfortable with love, and a little jealous, too, although she doubted he recognized that. Susan, the little sister he adored, would soon be married and would move to California with her husband.
When they reached the steps leading to the altar, Susan kissed Nash’s cheek before placing her hand on Kurt’s arm. Nash hesitated as if he wasn’t ready to surrender his sister. Just when Savannah was beginning to get worried, he turned and entered the pew, standing next to her. Either by accident or design, his hand reached for hers. His grip was tight, his face strained with emotion.
Savannah was astonished to see that his eyes were bright with tears. She could easily be mistaken, though, since her own were blurred. A moment later, she was convinced she was wrong.
The pastor made a few introductory comments about the sanctity of marriage. Holding his Bible open, he stepped forward. “I’d like each couple who’s come to celebrate the union of Susan and Kurt to join hands,” he instructed.
Nash took both of Savannah’s hands so that she was forced to turn sideways. His eyes delved into hers, and her heart seemed to stagger to a slow, uneven beat at what she read in them. Nash was an expert at disguising his feelings, yes, but also at holding on to his anger and the pain of his long-dead marriage, at keeping that bitterness alive. As he stared down at her, his eyes became bright and clear and filled with an emotion so strong, it transcended anything she’d ever seen.
Savannah was barely aware of what was going on around them. Sounds faded; even the soloist who was singing seemed to be floating away. Savannah’s peripheral vision became clouded, as if she’d stepped into a dreamworld. Her sole focus was Nash.
With her hands joined to Nash’s, their eyes linked, she heard the pastor say, “Those of you wishing to renew your vows, repeat after me.”
Nash’s fingers squeezed hers as the pastor intoned the words. “I promise before God and all gathered here this day to take you as my wife. I promise to love and cherish you, to leave my heart and my life open to you.”
To Savannah’s amazement, Nash repeated the vow in a husky whisper. She could hear others around them doing the same. Once again tears filled her eyes. How easy it would be to pretend he was devoting his life to hers.
“I’ll treasure you as a gift from God, to encourage you to be all He meant you to be,” Savannah found herself repeating a few minutes later. “I promise to share your dreams, to appreciate your talents, to respect you. I pledge myself to you, to learn from and value our differences.” As she spoke, Savannah’s heart beat strong and steady and sure. Excitement rose up in her as she realized that what she’d said was true. These were the very things she yearned to do for Nash. She longed for him to trust her enough to allow her into his life, to help him bury the hurts of the past. They were different, as different as any couple could be. That didn’t make their relationship impossible. It added flavor, texture and challenge to their attraction. Life together would never be dull for them.
“I promise to give you the very best of myself, to be faithful to you, to be your friend and your partner,” Nash whispered next, his voice gaining strength. Sincerity rang through his words.
“I offer you my heart and my love,” Savannah repeated, her own heart ready to burst with unrestrained joy.
“You are my friend,” Nash returned, “my lover, my wife.”
It was as if they, too, were part of the ceremony, as if they, too, were pledging their love and their lives to each other.
Through the minister’s words, Savannah offered Nash all that she had to give. It wasn’t until they’d finished and Kurt was told to kiss his bride that Savannah remembered this wasn’t real. She’d stepped into a dreamworld, the fantasy she’d created out of her own futile need for love. Nash had only been following the minister’s lead. Mortified, she lowered her eyes and tugged her trembling fingers free from Nash’s.
He, too, apparently harbored regrets. His hands clasped the pew in front of them until his knuckles paled. He formed a fist with his right hand. Savannah dared not look up at him, certain he’d recognize her thoughts and fearing she’d know his. She couldn’t have borne the disappointment. For the next several hours they’d be forced to share each other’s company, through the dinner and the dance that followed the ceremony. Savannah wasn’t sure how she was going to manage it now, after she’d humiliated herself.
Thankfully she was spared having to face Nash immediately after the ceremony was over. He became a part of the reception line that welcomed friends and relatives. Savannah was busy herself, working with the woman she’d hired to help coordinate the wedding and reception. Together they took down the pew bows, which would serve as floral centerpieces for the dinner.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful ceremony,” Nancy Mastell told Savannah, working furiously. “You’d think I’d be immune to this after all the weddings we attend.”
“It...was beautiful,” Savannah agreed. Her stomach was in knots, and her heart told her how foolish she’d been; nevertheless, she couldn’t make herself regret what had happened. She’d learned something about herself, something she’d denied far too long. She needed love in her life. For years she’d cut herself off from opportunity, content to live off the happiness of others. She’d moved from one day to the next, carrying her pain and disappointment, never truly happy, never fulfilled. Pretending.
This was why Nash threatened her. She couldn’t pretend with him. Instinctively he knew. For reasons she’d probably never understand, he saw straight through her.
“Let me get those,” Nancy said. “You’re a wedding guest.”
“I can help.” But Nancy insisted otherwise.
When Savannah returned to the vestibule, she found Nash waiting for her. They drove in silence to the high-end hotel, where Nash had rented an elegant banquet room for the evening.
Savannah prayed he’d say something to cut the terrible tension. She could think of nothing herself. A long list of possible topics presented itself, but she couldn’t come up with a single one that didn’t sound silly or trite.
Heaven help her, she didn’t know how they’d be able to spend the rest of the evening in each other’s company.
Dinner proved to be less of a problem than Savannah expected. They were seated at a table with two delightful older gentlemen whom Nash introduced as John Stackhouse and Arnold Serle, the senior partners of the law firm that employed him. John was a widower, she gathered, and Arnold’s wife was in England with her sister.
“Mighty nice wedding,” Mr. Stackhouse told Nash.
“Thank you. I wish I could take credit, but it’s the fruit of Savannah’s efforts you’re seeing.”
“Beautiful wedding,” Mr. Serle added. “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed one more.”
Savannah was waiting for a sarcastic remark from Nash, but one never came. She didn’t dare hope that he’d changed his opinion, and guessed it had to do with the men who were seated with them.
Savannah spread the linen napkin across her lap. When she looked up, she discovered Arnold Serle watching her. She wondered if her mascara had run or if there was something wrong with her makeup. Her doubts must have shown in her eyes, because he grinned and winked at her.
Savannah blushed. A sixty-five-year-old corporate attorney was actually flirting with her. It took her a surprisingly short time to recover enough to wink back at him.
Arnold burst into loud chuckles, attracting the attention of Nash and John Stackhouse, who glanced disapprovingly at his partner. “Something troubling you, Arnold?”
“Just that I wish I were thirty years younger. Savannah here’s prettier than a picture.”
“You been at the bottle again?” his friend as
ked. “He becomes quite a flirt when he has,” the other man explained. “Especially when his wife’s out of town.”
Arnold’s cheeks puffed with outrage. “I most certainly do not.”
Their salads were delivered and Savannah noted, from the corner of her eye, that Nash was studying her closely. Taking her chances, she turned and met his gaze. To her astonishment, he smiled and reached for her hand under the table.
“Arnold’s right,” he whispered. “Every other woman here fades compared to you.” He paused. “With the exception of Susan, of course.”
Savannah smiled.
The orchestra was tuning their instruments in the distance and she focused her attention on the group of musicians, feeling a surge of regret and frustration. “I need to tell you something,” she said.
“What?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t dance. But please don’t let that stop you.”
“I’m not much of a dancer myself. Don’t worry about it.”
“Anything wrong?” Arnold asked.
“No, no,” Nash was quick to answer. “Savannah just had a question.”
“I see.”
“That reminds me,” John began. “There’s something we’ve been meaning to discuss with you, Nash. It’s about the position for senior partner opening up at the firm,” he said.
“Can’t we leave business out of this evening?” Arnold asked, before Nash could respond. Arnold frowned. “It’s difficult enough choosing another partner without worrying about it day and night.”
Nash didn’t need to say a word for Savannah to know how much he wanted the position. She felt it in him, the way his body tensed, the eager way his head inclined. But after Arnold’s protest, John hadn’t continued the discussion.
The dinner dishes were cleared from the table by the expert staff. The music started, a wistful number that reminded Savannah of sweet wine and red roses. Susan, in her flowing silk gown, danced with Kurt as their guests looked on, smiling.
The following number Kurt danced with his mother and Nash with Susan. His assurances that he wasn’t much of a dancer proved to be false. He was skilled and graceful.