Page 5 of After We Fall

I roll my eyes. “Hold still and let me at least fix the ribbon.” Leaving the flowers in his hands, I lean in and, with practiced precision, retie the bow. The fresh floral scent combined with something manly teases my senses. “Hank’s an honorable man. But I swear he misinterprets things on purpose to get a good laugh.”

“He’s hilarious.” Luke crunches the ribbon I just tied, relieving it of its perfection and somehow creating depth to the display.

I pick up the clipboard and tap my finger on the shiny, smooth surface. We need to be aligned for the next nine days to run well, but everything seems to be a joke to this man. “I can’t handle you here with us every day if you don’t take the welfare of those girls to heart.”

He turns and locks his gaze to mine. “The only reason I’m staying is because I’m concerned about the welfare of those girls.”

“Right.” I nod. “I appreciate your help today. But you must know that we follow a purposeful regimen around here. I don’t want your presence over the next week and a half to disrupt the girls’ lives.” Or mine, I want to assert, tracing my index finger along the tattered edge of the ranch brochure.

“All I’m going to do is secure and monitor the grounds. The rest of my time here, I’ll ask around, see if anyone has any leads on today’s incident. I’ll get my job done, then I’ll be out of your hair. And”—he leans an inch toward me and nods at my clipboard—“I won’t disrupt your purposeful regimen.”

Before I can respond, his eyes dance, and a heavy dose of confidence zaps around the room. “But you can’t fire me if someone happens to smile while I’m here. Even if you’re the one who’s doing the smiling.” Bending over, he hangs the flower arrangement on the end of the pew.

The swirling, giddy sensation in my stomach is an unfortunate reaction to this man. Studying the two pews seems like a favorable distraction. But when I take in the stunning result of Luke’s floral creations, I shake my head in utter disbelief.

“I must admit,” I say through gritted teeth, “the arrangements look better your way.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, eyes never leaving the flowers. “The beauty’s in the wild.”

Something in my soul aches to reach out and grasp at the fragments of his words. Words I don’t understand, but ones that somehow hang on wisps of hope.

The beauty’s in the wild.

I tighten the belt of my coat. “I need to check on the wedding preparations. I trust I won’t see you until this evening. But if you need anything, you have my number.”

As I stride through the doorway and onto the path, he calls after me, “Penelope.”

I turn to face him.

Luke raises his forearm over his head and leans his weight into the doorjamb. His gaze, full of intensity, bears down on me. “If there’s a threat, I’ll know. And I’ll take care of it.”

A flash of something unfamiliar streaks through my chest. What is that? Fear? Comfort? Tuning out the uncomfortable feeling, I offer a slow nod.

“I’ll catch you later.” He knocks the doorframe twice with his fist before he heads down the edge of the property line.

My stare lingers on his exiting form just a tad longer than I intend.

2

“No. That did not just happen,” the bride says to me from across the chapel porch. Her head hangs as she stares down at her wedding dress.

My eyes are fixed on little Alex, Harlan’s four-year-old daughter, as she enters the chapel. Her orange poofy skirt heaves with each skip-step toward the groom, her beaming daddy. The precious girl’s lack of inhibition captivates me.

But at Meredith’s alarming words, I jolt back to reality and turn around.

Meredith’s panicked eyes shoot to mine. “Gum.”

“Gum?” In two strides I cross the wooden planks to the bride and the father of the bride, then assess the situation.

In spite of the significant funds available to her, Meredith found the perfect on-sale, off-the-rack dress at David’s Bridal. The long-sleeve gown stretches to the floor and fits her body as if custom-made. Nothing extravagant, but everything beautiful and demure with guipure lace skimming the top of the ivory dress.

And on her collarbone, stuck in between the thick threads, sits a grayed piece of gum.

I didn’t realize I needed to institute a no-gum rule on Meredith’s wedding day.

“I know. I know.” She nods, the garland of tiny wildflowers holding its place while her wavy locks of brown hair dance across her shoulder blades. “I make it to fifteen seconds before I walk down the aisle, and disaster strikes.” Using the matching bouquet, she points in the direction of the wad.

The culprit is positioned right above the sweetheart cut of the dress. If I can distract Meredith from moving, I might be able to retrieve the piece without leaving a mark.