The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers

Jude leaned back in her chair and threw her hands up. “Will you look at me for once, Carrie? I mean really look! I wear makeup. I have some on now, and you can’t even tell.”

Carrie tried to appear guilty. As usual, the expression came across as Care Bear cute. “Oh. Now I see it. Maybe a little more blush...”

“I am not going to any fuss for a man who’s not going to show,” Jude said.

“Okay, have it your way. Be stubborn and negative and don’t take advantage of this opportunity if it should happen today.”

“I’m not stupid, Carrie. Even I recognize that Liam is a good-looking guy with a lot going for him. If he comes by, I’ll try to be all girly and sweet.”

“And phony.”

Jude rolled her eyes. Pleasing Carrie was not easy.

“Just be yourself, Jude. That’s the person he talked to at the wedding.” Carrie got up and looked out the kitchen window. “The shuttle is coming up the drive, so I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight. Let me know if you hear from the honeymooners.”

Carrie slung her duffel over one shoulder, her purse over the other, and picked up her suitcase.

“Let me carry those things for you,” Jude said.

“Stop it! I can manage my own things. Quit babying me, Jude. And get a life, will you? I worry about you. Try some positive thinking for a change, and good things will happen.”

“I suppose you know of a magic potion for that, don’t you, Carrie, or a crystal I can wear around my neck?”

Carrie fingered her own good luck talisman around her neck. “You’re impossible. Why do I even try?”

Jude hugged her sister over all her gear. “Don’t worry about me, sis. I’ve got everything I want out at that barn with my cozy apartment above just right for me and Wes.”

“You live with horses and noise, and...”

“You’re wrong, Carrie. I live in peace and solitude. Remember when we had a full-time groom in that apartment? We had six horses. Now we have three and taking care of them is a piece of cake. My life is full. The only thing that would make it more perfect is if I’d have you here for more than a few days at a time.”

Carrie leaned back and stared into her sister’s eyes. “And Liam Manning. He might make it more perfect.”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not where you’re concerned.” Carrie gave her sister one last smile. “Take care of yourself. Talk to you tonight.”

The shuttle taking Carrie to the Cleveland airport was soon just a cloud of dust. Jude missed her already. Less than two years apart in age, they’d always been close. Jude couldn’t imagine her life if Carrie weren’t in it. So, yes, of course she worried.

She took the mugs to the sink, rinsed them out and decided she’d go up and visit her mother for a few minutes. Then she’d head back to the barn where she was comfortable.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers and the familiar smells of hay and leather and the tasks and nonhuman company would surround her whether Liam Manning showed up or not. Most days, that was all the positive thinking she needed to get her through.

* * *

JUDE KNEW RIGHT away that the BMW coming up the drive had to belong to Liam. It was a corporate-looking car and it only made sense that it was owned by a corporate-looking guy. She wondered if he would park next to her pickup or leave some space so his shiny sedan wouldn’t be inflicted with old Dodge Ram barnyard dust.

She leaned on the rake she’d been using to spread chicken feed and waited for him to get out of the car. He’d actually shown up. If Carrie were still here, she’d be gloating big-time. And he’d even remembered her fashion advice and had on a pair of jeans. Despite the denims having a “just pressed” look, at least they were barn appropriate. His close-fitting, long-sleeved T-shirt was a common Pittsburgh Steelers variety, faded from washing. His sandy hair, unencumbered by a ball cap like hers was, was neatly combed, proving that the executive still existed alongside the cowboy.

She took off her cap and squinted into the sun. “Well, well, look who’s here. Did you bring a hammer?”

He came toward her. “In the trunk. You’ll have to show me how to use it.”

She harrumphed before tossing her cap to a nearby bench and flicking her braid over her shoulder to stream down her back. Untamed wisps of curls swept around her face as usual. Jude figured she looked okay. She wasn’t a complete fashion dolt. She bought denims that fit, shirts that hugged in the right places and tucked into her twenty-four-inch waistband without a struggle. And from the way Liam was looking at her, maybe he thought she looked okay, too.

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” she asked.

His answer was lost in a riot of barking as Mutt, the family dog, raced from the barn and ran directly toward Liam. Jude expected her guest to run back to the safety of his Beemer. Mutt was a large, furry, Bernese mountain dog, a rescue who was so grateful for two squares a day and a comfy spot at the foot of Jude’s bed that he loved everyone. But Liam wouldn’t know that.

“He won’t hurt...” Jude started to explain. But Liam was down on one knee, his fingers scrunched into the layers of fur around Mutt’s face. Mutt lapped his chin with his scratchy tongue.

“Friendly dog,” Liam said, standing again and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Almost too friendly,” Jude said. “Sorry about that.”

“I like dogs. It’s okay.”

Jude wasn’t sure that Liam liked big, sloppy, licking dogs, but to his credit, he was handling the situation. “How do you feel about goats?” she asked.

“Goats? Can’t say that I’ve ever sorted through my feelings about goats.”

Jude snapped her fingers and pointed to the side of the barn. “Mutt...goats! Goats!”

The Bernese trotted off gleefully around the corner of the barn. A minute later the Dancing Falls goat herd appeared in all its braying, furry splendor. Two dozen of them. At least half tried to get a curious sniff of the newcomer.

“I trained Mutt to open the latch that releases the goats.”

Liam frowned. “Did you also train him to put them back again?”

She laughed. “No. That’s my son Wesley’s job.” She handed Liam a bucket filled with feed and carried two buckets herself to a pair of troughs. “Feeding time. Most of these guys will walk around the yard and nibble at leaves and grass, but my vet concocts this pellet food to add bulk. Just dump your feed into the bin.”

He did and seemed grateful that lunch distracted the beasts from making a meal of a guy in creased jeans. She had to give the man credit. He was trying to fit in, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“Are the goats a permanent fixture at Dancing Falls?” he asked.

“Nope. They are temporary. This is just a stopover until they reach their new destinations.”

“Which is where?”

“Central America, most likely. The goats are part of the foundation. I got the entire herd about three months ago from a farmer out in Bees Creek Township. He’d been raising the goats for their milk and to use in petting zoos, but he hadn’t figured that a few goats would cost so much to maintain. He couldn’t pay the feed bills to keep the herd healthy, so he applied to the foundation for assistance.”

“And the goats all ended up here?”

“They did. Actually I didn’t trust the farmer to keep them healthy, and I figured I was much better equipped to deal with them. Dancing Falls was a good choice. We have pasture land here for them to roam.”

“You haven’t found someone else to care for them?” Liam asked.

“I haven’t tried. I did some research and discovered a charitable organization in Central America that provides goats to families in need. Most of these goats are milk goats. Just one can keep a family in dairy products for a long time. With my plan, I’m helping the goats as well as people who need it.”