Page 1 of First Bride to Fall
Chapter One
Nell’s mom strode into the coffee shop like a woman on a mission, her boots clacking against the worn oak floor. Bearberry Brews was not yet open for business, but already, sunlight streamed through its street-facing windows and door. Exposed wood beams hung overhead, and whitewashed walls held black-and-white photos of beachy scenes. The ocean lay just beneath Majestic, Maine’s cliffside perch, and its music filled the town.
“Girls, I’ve got great news!”
Nell stopped studying the spreadsheet on her laptop to stare at her mom. Silvery strands laced through her fawn-colored hair. She seemed to be graying more lately. Maybe the financial troubles their café had been dealing with were stressing her out more than Nell thought?
“Oh yeah?” she asked, but her sisters were oblivious. Misty was supposed to be opening the register, but she was playing on her phone. Probably texting one of the many guys in the Misty Fan Club. Charlotte, their marketing guru, sat at a table, sketching in her notebook.
Their mom cleared her throat, startling Misty into attention. “Oh hi, Mom.” She stole one last peek at her phone and slid it in her hip pocket.
Nell’s mom walked over to Charlotte’s table and plunked her purse down beside the notebook, but Charlotte kept drawing, her hair catching the light like a raven’s wing. She had her earbuds in, lost in her own world. Until her mom reached forward and plucked both of them out.
Charlotte’s chin jerked up. “Uh,” she said with wide blue eyes. “Is something going on?”
“Yes. Thereis.”
Nell’s pulse raced because she’d seen that funny look on her mom’s face before. Her too-bright smile made those creases surrounding her mouth and eyes extra visible. Nell adjusted her knitted circle scarf, sweeping her long curls off of her frilly ivory collar, and privately issued a plea.
Please don’t let it be about a guy. Please, please, please. Please.
During the past few months, Grace Delaney had begun prodding Nell and her sisters about settling down. She’d even tried fixing all of them up a time or two. It wasn’t like any of them werethatold—or desperate.
Their mom pursed her lips, bursting at the seams. Okay, what kind of newswasthis? Had their folks won the lottery? Or come into a windfall? That would be amazing for their struggling coffee shop and might take their mom’s mind off of weddings for a while—
“One of you is getting married!”
Or not.
Nell’s nerves stood on end. From her sisters’ slack-jawed expressions, they were just as shocked.
“Married?” Charlotte’s voice cracked. Prodding them about dating was one thing. Jumping straight into holy matrimony was something else.
Misty’s pink-tinted ponytail swung sideways. “You’re joking, right?”
But wait. If this was a joke, then why wasn’t her mom’s mouth twitching, and where was that sparkle in her light brown eyes?
Nell’s gut clenched.
“I’m not joking.” Their mom scooted out a chair and sat at Charlotte’s table. “My visit with Jane went better than I expected.”
Misty scowled. It had been nearly two decades ago, but John Strong’s betrayal still stung. By default, his wife, Jane, was equally in the sisters’ bad graces.
“The fallout between our two families was John’s doing,” their mom cautioned, “not Jane’s. And anyway, John’s gone now, and Jane feels terrible about what happened. We all agree that he took advantage of your dad.”
“Yeah,” Charlotte grumbled. “All Dad’s work made the Strongs their fortune.” The man had sneakily cheated their trusting dad out of the company’s lucrative international distribution rights in exchange for full ownership of this standalone café.
Their mom nodded. “Which is why Jane wants to repair things by bringing the family businesses back together again. Just as was intended when your dad and John first founded Bearberry Brews.” She placed her hands on the table, displaying knuckles aged by years of kitchen work, and her meager wedding band. Their dad had never been able to afford giving her a diamond ring. “There’s one small catch.”
Sweat beaded Nell’s hairline. Catches of any kind made her nervous.
Their mom removed her thin leather jacket and draped it over the back of her chair. “You recall Aidan?”
Ugh, yeah. Vaguely.
Charlotte grimaced. “Geeky Aidan?”
Misty pulled a face. “Ew. Him?”
