Bridesmaid Says, ''I Do!''

One day.

Back in the kitchen, she reached for the kettle. First priority was a comforting mug of tea, accompanied by a long soak in a warm bath. She could sort out her laundry tomorrow night after work. For now, she was going to be totally self-indulgent.

Five minutes later, warm, rose-scented water enveloped her, and at last she could set her thoughts free.

Unfortunately, her thoughts zeroed straight to Kent Rigby.

She let out the loud groan she’d been holding in for two whole days, ever since the road-side revelation on Friday evening. All weekend, honest to God, she’d tried unbelievably hard to stop liking Kent.

It should have been easy. He was her best friend’s fiancé, and Zoe had already dated a previously engaged man. She’d been burned. Horribly. After she’d dated Rodney for several months and helped him to get over his break-up, he’d moved in with her and she’d been deeply in love with him. Then she’d come home unexpectedly early one evening and found him in bed with Naomi, his former fiancée.

Rodney the Rat.

Never again would Zoe set herself up for that kind of heartache.

So why hadn’t she found the ‘off’ switch for her attraction to Bella’s fiancé?

It was ridiculous, as if she’d contracted a mutant strain of a virus that was resistant to all known treatments.

The truth was that deep down she was genuinely thrilled for Bella. Willara Downs was the lifestyle her friend had been born into. Bella’s parents had always lived in the district. Her father would soon be out of hospital and home on his farm, and her grandfather still lived in an aged care facility in Willara township. On top of that, the Shaw and Rigby properties were adjoining and so Bella and Kent had the whole dynasty thing happening.

Beyond all these practical considerations, Bella and Kent were so sweet together, and so very at ease. Maybe they weren’t all touchy-feely, but that was to be expected when others were around. Just the same, it was clear as daylight that they belonged together.

Without question, Bella fitted in. She’d found where she belonged, while once again, as always, Zoe was the outsider.

Oh, God.

Zoe dunked her face under the water to wash away her stupid tears. She had to get a grip. Had to stop this nonsense now.

Curse that flat tyre.

This problem would never have arisen if she and Bella had driven to the homestead together. If Bella had been there, from the moment Zoe met Kent she would have known who he was, and the first thing she would have seen was Kent embracing his bride-to-be. She would have been excited for Bella, and her heart would have stayed safely immune to Kent’s charms.

Instead, cruel fate had delivered her a punctured tyre and twenty minutes alone with a wonderful man who’d arrived like a gift from heaven.

She kept reliving that thrilling moment—only a few seconds admittedly—when their gazes had connected. She could have sworn something huge and earth-shattering had passed between them.

Had it all been in her stupid head?

She hated to admit that she’d deluded herself, but there was no other explanation. Thank heavens Kent hadn’t noticed.

His behaviour had been beyond reproach. He’d been unfailingly polite and friendly to Zoe, and he’d been wonderful about her damaged tyre, organising a replacement to be sent out from a garage in Willara and then fitting it for her.

Appropriately, he’d devoted the bulk of his attention to Bella. There’d been no sign that he was remembering the moment when he and Zoe had looked into each other’s eyes and the world had stopped.

And she was going to be just as sensible.

It was time for self-discipline and maturity. Time to get a grip on reality.

Kent-slash-man-of-her-dreams-Rigby was going to marry her best friend in less than two months and she, Zoe Weston, was going to be their happy, loyal, non-jealous, and perfect-in-every-way bridesmaid.

Kent couldn’t breathe. Pinned at the bottom of a dark muddy pool, he could feel his lungs bursting, his legs thrashing. He couldn’t see a thing. Couldn’t hear anything either, just a dull roaring in his head.

Fear, blacker than the night, pressed down with a weighty and smothering hand.

He fought, struggling, gasping … shooting awake out of a tangle of sheets.

He dragged in air. His heart raced, but he wasn’t panicking. He knew it would slow down soon. He was used to this dream. He knew its familiar pattern, even though he had no real memories of almost drowning in Willara Creek.

The dreams were based on what his family had told him—that he’d been pinned under a rock and Tom Shaw had saved him, and that little Bella had been there, white-faced and sobbing.

Don’t let Kent die. Please, please don’t let him die …

It was years later, in his teens, that the dreams had begun. By then it had finally sunk in that all life was tenuous and that Kent’s own life had nearly ended when he was six years old.

A kid showing off. All over red rover. Then a man with good instincts diving down and dragging him free.

Tom Shaw had given Kent a second chance at life, and with that gift had come responsibility.

The dreams never let Kent forget. He owed. Big time.

To: Kent Rigby<willaraKR@hismail.com> From: Zoe Weston<zoe.weston@flowermail.com>

Subject: Caterers etc.

Dear Kent,

Thanks for your kind hospitality on the weekend. It was great meeting you and having the chance to see where the wedding will take place.

I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that my spare car tyre held up splendidly, so thanks for your help with that as well.

As you know, I had a good chat with your mother about the best caterers to approach for the wedding and I’ve rung them all and am sending you their quotes as an attachment for your perusal.

I showed the quotes to Bella, but she has enough to think about with finding her dress and worrying about her dad and she’s more than happy to leave the planning details to us.

I thought the menu supplied by Greenslades sounded delicious and it also provides a range of dishes to suit most tastes, but they’re a little more expensive than the others.

I’m also sending a link to a website with the table settings that Bella and I think will be perfect. If you like them, I’ll go ahead and place an order.

Oh, and are you still happy to use the homestead verandas if there’s a threat of rain, or would you like me to look into hiring a marquee?

If there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know.

Kind regards,

Zoe Weston

To: Zoe Weston<zoe.weston@flowermail.com> From: Kent Rigby<willaraKR@hismail.com> Subject: Re: Caterers etc.