Chapter 3
Amy stretched and peeked between the drapes of the bedroom window as the morning sun broke through the fog. Dinner with Manny had gone smoothly. He’d never asked why Vanna didn’t stay.
Now the breeze caught the branches of an evergreen and sent them bobbing up and down. The sunlight gleamed A beautiful day. Wyatt had left early to return to the rodeo circuit. Before he did, he’d kissed her with such tenderness she sighed, wishing he could stay.
Soon they’d take their vows in front of God and their best friends. The realization Granny wouldn’t be there sent a pang of disappointment to jar her. She didn’t know her father, not even his name, because the subject was never discussed as she grew up. With Granny and her grandpa gone, her family would not be represented in church.
Wyatt’s dad had moved to another town leaving Wyatt and his mom. Since then he hadn’t seen much of the guy. Now Mr. Cameron wouldn’t be attending the ceremony.
Amy groaned remembering the time she met Wes, Wyatt’s brother. He’d called her a slut and Wyatt had slugged him. Since that happened they’d agreed to pretty much stay away from each other.
“Stop.” Her mood wouldn’t be ruined. Wyatt loved her and her son. Nothing else mattered.
In a few minutes, Vanna would be at the house. They’d booked an appointment in Sacramento with the best wedding retail outlet in the city.
Would it be right to wear the typical grown for her second marriage? Should she buy a pastel color? Wyatt wanted her in white. He’d said her heart was pure and she deserved it. Dear God, I love him.
After a shower, she pulled on navy jogging pants, a pink T-shirt, and a matching sweatshirt and then stepped into old runners. She didn’t care about the wedding dress as much as the bond, a commitment between two souls and the desire to remain together until death parted them and beyond. The thought sent a shiver through her. Could someone love her enough he’d make a lifelong commitment to her and mean it?
The doorbell buzzed. She grabbed her purse and jogged down stairs.
Couldn’t be Vanna, she usually walked in and shouted, “Amy, I’m here.”
Must be a stranger at the door. A salesman?
The buzzer sounded again.
“I’m coming.”
Without looking first, she tugged open the door. “Yes.”
“I’m Wyatt’s father.”
Amy gasped as she viewed a tall fifty-year-old man with a slight paunch and dark hair touched with silver.
He glared at her. “Going to invite me in?”
His gruffness startled her, so different from the gentle tones of Wyatt’s voice.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Please.” She started to move back, but he pushed past her and almost made her loose her balance. He didn’t appear to notice.
“Mr. Cameron, coffee? It’s fresh, if you’d like some.”
“No.” He sat in the new overstuffed chair in the living room; Wyatt’s favorite.
She stood silent as he surveyed the room, his glance stopping on the new brown leather couch and the huge flat screen TV, all recently purchased by Wyatt.
“Lady, I know what you’re doing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve seen your type. You’re a gold digger. Been told your history, unemployed, with a sick kid and about to lose this place, you needed a sugar daddy. And my kid was ripe for the picking and easy to fool.” He leaned back in the chair, appearing to relax after having said what he wanted.
She rubbed the back of her neck to release her tense muscles. “I don’t…”
“I admit I’m a little late getting involved,” Mr. Cameron interrupted. “Still, Wyatt’s my eldest and nobody’s going to take advantage of him. You don’t love him, just want his money, and I’ll do everything possible to stop this marriage.”
His eyes narrowed and leaned forward. She took a step back from him.
A smile spread across his lined face. “.”
Damn him. Who did he think he was? How could he neglect Wyatt as a kid and then show up in time to meddle today? She guessed he was trying to make up for his lack of parenting when Wyatt needed him. Well, he was too damned late.
She slumped in a chair as if all the air had been knocked out of her. “Breathe.” With a gasp, she realized Wyatt’s brother had called her a slut and now Wyatt’s father said, “gold digger.” Every contact with his family left her degraded and depressed. Did she want to marry into such a household?
Sad over the lack of parents or siblings to attend the wedding, even so, she wondered if relatives might be overvalued. You could pick your friends, but family came without your consent.
She recalled the cold eyes and bleak expression on Wyatt’s face as he’d told her about the day his father left. Dad had packed Wes’ belongs and walked out of the apartment without a goodbye or a glance backward to see his elder son standing in the doorway, heartbroken and abandoned.
Wyatt said with little emotion, his father didn’t want him because he looked too much like his mother. He’d be a constant reminder of the man’s mistake. Dad had married Wyatt’s mother because she was pregnant, but never forgave her for being with child and tying him down. Mom continued to love the man until the day she died and never understood why the emotion wasn’t returned.
After he told the story, he’d stared at the log burning in the fireplace, remaining silent as the flames settled and became embers. Stillness had hung heavy in the room.
She’d been afraid to speak, not understanding how to console the man she loved. What would Wyatt do if she said his dad accused her of wanting to marry him for his money and had promised to prevent the marriage? She shivered at the thought.
***
As Vanna drove her small sedan through Sacramento’s heavy morning traffic, irritation heated Amy’s face and her heartbeat thundered. Damn Mr. Cameron. She should be having light conversation with her friend, but anger made the effort impossible, so she rode in silence.
Wyatt’s father, the ignorant man, suggested she pack. He couldn’t send her away from her own property. Maybe the man didn’t know she and Bobby had the farm in their name. Wyatt saw to that. No matter what the old guy thought, she wasn’t going anywhere. She groaned. His words still hurt.
Vanna glanced at her for a second, but didn’t say anything.
No invitation to the wedding for Mr. Cameron. Amy wouldn’t see the man again. She pushed back a sigh and hoped Vanna wouldn’t ask what was wrong. She couldn’t talk about it. Not yet, the pain was too fresh.
The wedding dress should be foremost in her mind, wondering about style and budget. Could they find something to go with granny’s precious veil?
“Watch where you’re going.” Her friend leaned on the horn and shouted at a driver who tried to make an illegal left turn and just missed hitting the car. Amy screamed as the seatbelt tightened and held her in place. The SUV sped away. “Damn urban drivers.” Vanna laughed nervously. “Amy, are you ok?”
“Yeah.”
The car behind them honked. “Hold on. I’m going,” Vanna shouted. “You know I used to drive in Los Angeles and never complained about the overcrowded roads. Traffic had been part of the scene. But living in a small town, I’m out of practice.”
“Well, four cars idling on Main Street is a traffic jam in Sierra Creek.” Amy said, relieved they avoided an accident. She should have ordered a gown online and made it easy on everyone. However, shopping at the Wedding Castle had been a dream of hers for a long time. Ever since seeing a report on a magazine TV show.
The day was off to a wonderful start she thought sarcastically, first harassed by Wyatt’s father and almost run off the road by a pushy driver. Not an omen of things to come she hoped.
“There it is. The sign says parking.” Vanna pointed to the right.
The sedan slid into a parking spot near the back door. “Let’s go find out what gorgeous items they’ve got.”
Amy went through the plain wooden back entry and gasped. “Wow, marble and crystal. Did we walk into a hidden palace? They’ve up-graded since I saw the TV show.” She stared at the huge crystal chandelier draped in hanging gems. They tinkled as the fixture moved in the breezed caused by the opening door. Pink satin walls glistened in the light.
“I think we should’ve dressed up,” Vanna whispered.
Amy glanced down at her own t-shirt, jogging pants, and worn runners, so out of place on the Carrara marble floor. As they walked to the reception area, the glow from the chandelier sent sparks to dance in the air.
“Have you ever seen anything like that light?” Vanna asked.
“Austrian crystal I bet. It put them back thousands,” she answered under her breath.
“Always thinking about the budget aren’t you, Amy? Don’t squeeze the money too tight today. Promise?”
Before she could answer, a middle-aged woman, in a suit of lilac silk with matching satin shoes in the same delicate color, came toward them. “May I help you?”
As they responded to her questions, they were rushed into a huge dressing room decorated in deep pink. A gold intricately carved mirror covered one wall.
“Take a seat. My assistant will be here to attend to your needs.”
Vanna sat on an upholstered chair with a heart shaped back. “Get this chair, Amy.” She pointed to the shape.
Amy grinned and resisted doing a pirouette in front of the huge ornate mirror. “This is big like the one in my ballet class. No gold frame on that one though.” She laughed.
A younger version of the woman who greeted them smiled as she entered the room. “Hello, I’m Megan.”
“Hi.” Amy smiled at the woman.
“Shall we start?”
Megan asked the wedding date, number in the wedding party and her dress budget.
“What style did you have in mind, dear? Ball gown, fit and flare, sheath?”
The woman glared at her shoes. “Are those the only shoes you have with you? Perhaps before you try on a dress, you might like to pick out a shoe? They’ve been specifically chosen to go with our gowns.”
Twenty minutes later, Amy wore two-inch white satin pumps with an hourglass shaped heels and small lace bows. “I think the bows go with the lace on granny’s veil.”
“They come in a higher heel, my dear. The woman encouraged her to try them.
“I’m out of practice walking in anything higher and the wedding is on a farm so I think these lower ones will be fine.”
The sales woman shrugged, though the expression in her eyes spoke of her disagreement with Amy’s decision.
Ballet, mermaid, strapless, cap sleeve, low back, high back, her head spun. Her whole life she’d dreamed this wedding dress and a church wedding. Still, butterflies formed in her stomach.
“Try the fit and flare with the crystal beads, Amy.” Vanna held it up to her. “It’s gorgeous. Can you imagine what Wyatt would think if he saw you in something like this?”
“He’d never believe it was me.”
She slithered into the tight gown. “Whoa. No way, too many sparkles. Bobby wouldn’t recognize his own mother.”
“The staff is looking for a fit and flare with lace. In the meantime, I’ve found this gown with ruching on the bodice.” Megan held it up for her.
“Okay.” She stepped into the shiny satin gown. “Las Vegas would love the gown, but not for me. Out of place on the farm.”
Next came a ball gown with enough tulle for two dresses. She couldn’t see her feet and almost tripped. This isn’t going as planned. In her daydreams, she’d looked like a beauty queen. She pushed up her glasses to the bridge of her nose and surveyed herself in the mirrors. The huge skirt dwarfed her. “Looks like a ten-year-old playing dress-up in my big sister’s prom dress.” She giggled.
Sheath, short, long, none of them seemed right. And the prices—she thought of the farm equipment she could buy with the money these dresses cost. Wyatt had told her not to worry, however, being concerned was in her nature.
“Here’s a mermaid, but without so many crystals.” Vanna said.
“Perfect for Kim Kardashian.” Amy grinned. “But more dress than I can fill.”
Four more dresses later, Amy slipped off her shoes. “My feet are killing me and I’m no closer to choosing an outfit than when I walked in here.” She plopped into a chair.
“We found it.” The sales woman waltzed back into the dressing room holding “the dress.” “Look, there’s the lace you wanted. I know you’ll be beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Hopeful after the sales people worked so hard to find the item, she pulled on the costume. “The lace appliqués are beautiful. I think they’d go ok with granny’s antique veil.” But as she glared at her vision in the mirror she burst out laughing.
Megan frowned at her, but her mouth remained closed.
“I’m sorry you searched so hard to find this for me. The gown is gorgeous—I mean, I’m fit but I don’t have enough flare.” She patted the too big sweetheart neckline and looked cross-eyed at Vanna who sat in the corner of the dressing room. “Flat.”
Amy burst into laughter and Vanna joined her.
If the sales woman was annoyed, she tried to hide the fact with negligible success. “I’m disappointed you don’t appreciate the styles I’ve shown you—I suggest you take a minute to relax. I’ll bring you both a glass of champagne while you look through our store catalogue.” She pointed to a book on the side table next to the chair. I’ll check back—soon.”
“Oops. I think I’ve upset her,” Amy said after the sales clerk disappeared. “I didn’t mean to laugh, but I looked ridiculous in those dresses. They’re not me.” She twisted her back to ease the building tension. “I’m country and those are Beverly Hills.” She sat cross-legged on the floor in a lotus position and composed herself.
“Here you go, ladies.” A man, in black slacks and a white tuxedo shirt, open at the neck and showing a muscled chest, entered holding a silver tray with two filled champagne flutes.
Vanna took them and handed one to Amy.
“Pink champagne.” Amy held it up, but didn’t drink.
“Of course, cheers.”
“Cheers. I didn’t think they allowed men in here.” Amy took a sip.
As the guy slowly closed the door Vanna fanned herself as if she was burning up. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”
“You’re terrible.” Amy burst to laughter and almost spilled her wine. “He’s sexy though, great looking.”
Halfway through the catalogue she paused. “I never thought trying on dresses could be so exhausting. How many have I checked out anyway? I couldn’t keep count.”
“Sooo many, but you’ll find the right one.”
“Let’s check out the back of the book.” She emptied the glass flute and was already calming down.
Vanna set her glass, still half full, on the table. “I’m driving. Got to return you home safe and sound or Wyatt will kill me.” The corners of her mouth turned up.
Sleeves: strapless, cap, sleeveless, embellishments: pearls, sequins, crystals, length: full-length, ballet, mini, and fabric: satin, silk, taffeta, it was all becoming a blur. Should she leave? Would she want to go through this again?
“Amy, concentrate. Only two more pages to go.”
When she turned to the next page the dress waited for her, perfect, a retro, tea length style gown with a tulle skirt, strapless lace bodice dotted with small seed pearls, and a plunging back, color: the palest antique white.
If only it’s available and she could afford it.
***
“Darn cold out there,” Wyatt said as he entered Granny’s barn. He threw Spirit’s saddle into its place on a back shelf, and then ran his hand over the stallion’s withers and down to the front leg to check for perspiration. Even in January, after a long ride, the horse needed a good cool down. Satisfied, he let the horse munch on feed.
Manny wandered into the barn carrying his saddle, his gelding following him. “Guess who I saw the other day?”
“No clue.” He shrugged. “Help yourself to the feed.”
“José Martinez,” his friend continued. “He’s living in Sacto, but would like to come home if he could find work in Sierra Creek.”
“No kidding. I thought he worked in the capital as a supervisor somewhere.” Wyatt stopped and looked up at his friend. “He worked in an impressive job of some kind.”
“Did.” Manny led his horse two stalls away from Wyatt’s horse, Spirit. Yet the stallion still pawed the floor and snorted.
“Steady boy,” Wyatt cooed.
“The company was bought out by some big conglomerate and they put their own people in place, left the supervisors and management from the old place high and dry,” Manny added.
“Tough break.” Wyatt tossed more feed into the rack.
Manny set his saddle near the barn door and hung his lariat around the horn. “Yeah and he’s got three kids to support and another one on the way.”
“Damn.” That was one of the reasons why he and Manny planned to restart the mill. They’d never be in Jose’s position. Being out of work wouldn’t be an option. Once it was going, they couldn’t be fired and they’d make quick decisions to keep up with an ever-changing market.
“Wyatt, we need good men like him.”
“You think he’d be able to hold out ‘til we start hiring and get the company up and running?”
“I’ll talk to him. He must get some severance pay and of course unemployment checks.”
Wyatt rubbed his chin in thought. “Might be enough to keep him and his family going until we start. I don’t want to lose a good man.”
“We’re going to need them,” his buddy agreed.
“I’m so close. Just finish this year on the rodeo circuit and I’ll have funds enough to handle things.” Wyatt paused. “We can open the place and keep it running while we get our brand out there and attract buyers.” He stretched. “Did I tell you the owners accepted our offer and they’ve agreed to hold a second mortgage, with small monthly payments, until we’re on our feet?”
“My part of the down payment will be ready by the end of June at the latest.”
“Thanks, Manny.” Wyatt threw a rope onto a raised shelf. “Shit.” He grabbed his lower back and rubbed it. The last thing he needed was being incapacitated before he’d finished this year’s circuit.
“You okay?” A look of concern spread across Manny’s tanned face.
For a second Wyatt couldn’t answer. He continued to massage his back to relax a knotted muscle. The pain subsided and he straightened up. “All good. You ready to put the hay into the loft?”
“Let’s get it done.” His buddy got up from the bale he used as a bench.
As they pitched the feed high into the attic, the scent of fresh straw filled the barn. Wyatt brushed some out of his hair and recalled the first time he’d seen Amy standing in the barn’s doorway her hair touched with sunlight, a vision, and her full mouth slightly open taunting him. When she smiled, he’d gently taken her to him until their lips met. Startled, nonetheless she’d clung to him. He’d walked forward, still holding her close, and lowered her to the loose hay. She’d moaned just before he kissed her again. His breath rapid and hers had matched his.
“Hey, Wyatt, buddy. How about some help?”
With the last bale gone, Wyatt stretched, cringed and sucked back a groan. He banged up his back good and hard on the final circuit ride the other day. He’d won, but today he paid the price.
He’d told Amy not to worry about the price of the wedding dress because he’d handle it. He wanted to her to have whatever she desired. And he planned to deal with the deferred maintenance on Granny’s house too, but what would happen if he couldn’t work? A determined woman, Amy who’d managed to care for Bobby on her own, could take care of things, but he yearned for the chance to help and when they married and had a kid together…
“Hay’s done. How about a beer, Manny?”
“I wouldn’t turn one down.”
***
Amy leaned back in the passenger’s seat of Vanna’s old Honda Civic as they drove toward Sierra Creek. She still clutched the sales receipt in her hand. She’d paid more for the dress than she could recall spending on any one item. Mistake? Too late to change it now, with dressmaker pins holding the alterations needed to make a perfect fit. Without realizing, she groaned.
Vanna glanced from the road to her and quickly back again. “You sick?”
“In shock.” She forced her mouth from a straight line to a curved one. “A woman should pay for her own wedding dress. I thought I’d enjoy this day, looked forward to it. Instead all I can think is I’ve drained my savings account and put more debt on my credit card.”
“You looked gorgeous, like an angel in the dress. Wyatt’s going to love it. Why not enjoy your good luck in finding the perfect costume?”
“You’re right. But I’ve spent the last few years stressing over money, never knowing where the next check would come from. For a while I didn’t know where Bobby and I would live. I can’t stop worrying.” She paused. “When I lived in San Francisco, before Bobby, I bought designer clothes for work. I spent a fortune on my hair and nails. I remember paying more than five hundred dollars for a pair of sunglasses without thinking about it.”
“I can relate. As an actor in L.A., my agent encouraged me to blow my meager income, working part time as a teacher’s aide, to buy clothes to go on calls for parts on TV shows and commercials.”
“I saw you in a shampoo commercial. For the longest time, it played almost every night.”
“I ate for almost a year on the ad, my closest brush with fame.” Vanna laughed. “Thought I’d be discovered and stardom and fortune would follow. Didn’t even get another commercial.”
“Oh—sorry.” Vanna had struggled living in Los Angeles. That surprised Amy. Hollywood sounded so glamorous.
“Amy, enjoy the dress and the day. Life offers so few chances for happiness. Take what you can and savor it.”
Friends since elementary school, Vanna was usually upbeat, the mischievous one and the first to have fun. Amy had never seen this side of her.
“Listen to me, all philosophical.” Vanna giggled. “There’s something about a wedding that brings out the meaning of life and stuff—don’t take me too seriously.”
“You’re right and I don’t do happy very well. Not enough practice I guess.”
“You can learn. Let Wyatt teach you.”
“I’m sure I’ll learn a lot from him.” Amy grinned and then let it fade into a frown. “This is not about the dress or the money.” She twisted her engagement ring and the small diamond caught a sun’s ray even in the waning light.
“Vanna, I’m scared.” She’d never admitted it to anyone, barely said told herself. “I make awful choices when it comes to men. My first husband, Robert was a gorgeous hunk, but a cruel bastard in a charming façade. What if I make a total commitment to Wyatt with my heart and soul and he lets me down like my first husband did? How could I live through another betrayal? How could Bobby?”