Rocky Mountain Legacy

“Whenever you want to talk again, stop in.” Sara’s eyes lost their brooding, lightened to a rich cocoa. “We’ll do our best to help. But I think you should wait and talk to Karen. Then listen. She might have other reasons for wanting to elope.”

“Like what?” Cade resented the inference that he didn’t know exactly how Karen thought. His baby sister was an open book to him.

“Talk to her. She’ll tell you.”

“Will you be here if I come back?”

“I don’t know.” An internal struggle turned her eyes a shade of bittersweet. “Probably.”

The expressionless gaze she’d first assumed at the store, the “mask” look that hid her emotions, slid into place. He disliked it intensely.

“Well, thanks for coffee and the croissants.” Sara’s clear natural glow reminded Cade of the foothills of his ranch where mountain springs tumbled down in a rush of sparkling droplets chased by sunbeams. Her orange scarf was like a mountain lily.

Cade blinked. Loneliness was definitely affecting him.

“You’ve given me a lot of wedding details to think about. What if we meet tomorrow?”

Sara’s eyes widened with surprise.

“You mean, you still want me to work with you, even though I’m not staying?”

“You have an original perspective. Karen would like that.” His sister’s penchant for the uncommon had often been a source of contention between them.

“You must miss her a lot.”

Cade hadn’t realized how much until he met Sara.

“Karen hasn’t lived at home full-time for ages, but when she did, life was good. With my sister around there was always something going on. She enriched my life, made it fun. I miss that. I miss her.”

Sara went very still. Her face tilted upward as she studied him. Cade stood immobile under her scrutiny, waiting for the question he saw reflected in her eyes. But she didn’t ask.

So suddenly it made him catch his breath, her face altered, her voice emerged warm and generous.

“I’m just the substitute at Woodwards, so I don’t have any regular clients, which means I have a lot of free time. I could meet you whenever you like to brainstorm something wonderful for Karen’s wedding.”

Cade wasn’t about to waste his opportunity.

“I have to be in town tomorrow morning for some business. Could you meet me at Cartier’s Café at noon?”

“Cartier’s? Sure. But Woodwards has lots of—” Sara blinked, then waggled a finger at him, eyes twinkling. “You’re trying to avoid going back into the store, aren’t you?”

“If at all possible,” he admitted honestly. “How did you guess?”

“Your face. Lots of men find the environment a little—overpowering. The family has been trying to get Winnie to scale back, at least in reception.”

“But?”

Sara shrugged.

“Granny Winnie is an incurable romantic, that’s how she got started in this business. Yards of tulle, tons of hearts and flowers—it’s been a part of her world for so long I doubt she could envision Woodwards any other way now.”

“Why should she?” Cade tilted his head back to study the ivory stone facade of the building. “Her way obviously works. I was told Weddings by Woodwards assisted with more than four hundred weddings last year.”

“And each of them was absolutely perfect. That’s my family.” There it was again, that proud but irritated tone. “How did you choose Woodwards, Cade?”

“I talked to some friends of Karen who told me that if I wanted a spectacular wedding, Weddings by Woodwards was the only way.”

“I see.” Sara’s eyes narrowed. She made a notation on her pad, then lifted her head, brown eyes narrowed. “These friends—are they good friends? The kind of friends your sister would ask to be her attendants if she were planning her own wedding?”

Cade slowly nodded. Sara Woodward may have been out of the family business for a while, but she caught on to his line of thinking faster than the ranch foreman who’d been working for him for ten years.

“Exactly that kind of friend,” he told her.

She grinned, her eyes dancing.

“Now we’re cooking. Tonight I want you to write down everything you can think of about Karen. Bring your notes and her album tomorrow. That will give us a place to start.”

“Okay.”

Sara was easy to talk to. Cade surprised himself by prattling on and on about how much he wanted his sister to come home, how he worried about her safety, fussed about her future happiness.

When Sara’s attention slipped from him, Cade turned, saw a diminutive figure in black in the display window, writing in big brown letters.

Do you want your wedding to look like this?

“That’s Winnie!”

“But I thought—” Cade trailed behind Sara into the store, right up to the narrow door from which she’d first emerged. He halted, knowing how tight the fit was.

Sara slipped through.

“Winnie? What are you doing here?”

He heard a forced cough, then a familiar voice that didn’t sound the least bit ill.

“Hello, darling. I thought I’d stop by to check on things. I figured the twins must have rearranged the window, so I—”

“Never mind the twins,” Sara scolded. “You’re supposed to be at home. Resting. Come on, out you go.”

Cade stepped back as Sara emerged, leading her grandmother. He’d only seen photographs of Winifred Woodward, but she looked exactly like the elegant duchess in her publicity photos. Today she wore a black sheath dress with silver jewelry and high heels. She looked significantly younger than her rumored age. Her silver white curls were swept up into a regal style that enhanced merry brown eyes and rose-tinted cheekbones.

“You’re Cade Porter, I think.” She thrusted out a tiny blue-veined hand to grasp his. “Winifred Woodward. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep our appointment.”

“I’m sorry you’re not well.” Except she looked the picture of health.

“It’s just a cold. My family is overreacting.” Winnie patted Sara’s cheek. “I’m getting better every day.”

“You don’t sound better. Your voice is scratchy.” Sara frowned. “How did you get here, Grandmother?”