Texas Wedding

Shane had become an expert at feeling nothing. It made him a damn good soldier. Wasn’t that all that mattered, since he had nothing else to live for?

He’d been eighteen years old when he’d lost his family—his mother, father, sister and brother. Gone. In the snap of a finger, they were gone and his world was shattered beyond repair.

Why am I alive? Why did they have to die? Maybe if I hadn’t stayed behind in Italy?

In the first few years, he’d asked himself these questions nearly every day, until it had gotten to the point where the what-ifs had threatened to bury him. That’s when he’d to lock it all away.

Why, all of a sudden, were the ghosts he’d so carefully sequestered haunting him again?

As he continued his journey up the tree-shaded sidewalk toward the square, he glanced at the small clapboard houses that lined the walk. His mood darkened with each well-manicured lawn he passed. After several tours of the Middle East and living in government bachelor digs when he was in the States, it was no wonder this homey little town was bringing up issues. It reminded him so much of his childhood.

Fort Hood was just far enough away that it was more practical for him to stay in a rent-by-the-week efficiency. It wasn’t much, but at least it was closer to the construction site than commuting from the base.

This assignment was only temporary, he reminded himself. He’d be out of here soon enough. Then came Europe. And after that...he’d wait and see what life and the U.S. Army dictated.

In the meantime, distant strains of country music and aromas of delicious food beckoned him. His stomach growled again. Starving, he inhaled deeply, trying to discern among the mélange of inviting scents if there was a grilled burger in his near future.

It smelled promising.

As Shane closed the distance between his appetite and the town’s offerings, the sound of a bouncing basketball grabbed his attention. In the driveway of a two-story brick house, two boys were engaged in a game of Horse. The sound of a blaring car horn made one of them miss the basket. A mangy looking mixed-breed dog darted across the sidewalk, having narrowly dodged the honking car. Shane watched as the mutt, who seemed unfazed by his near brush with death, loped up to the boys, barking and dancing around them, licking their faces and wiggling in delight.

“Hey! You’d better put a leash on your furry friend,” Shane called to the boys. They froze, ceasing their whoops and giggles, staring at him warily as if they’d just noticed him. “He almost got hit by that car.”

The boys said nothing. They just stood there, the dog in between them and the stranger.

Shane didn’t mean to scare them. See, that was one of the things he hated most about small towns like Celebration. Everyone knew everyone. Everyone was accounted for...part of a family or at least the fabric of the community. It was just like where he grew up.

The boys didn’t answer, so he kept walking, hoping they would heed his suggestion to curb their pet. Loss hit hard when you lived in a sheltered world that fostered a false sense of immortality. By the time he reached the next driveway, the whoops of laughter and barking began again.

In the distance, he saw the town square, a park dotted with white tents. The source of the delicious aromas, he suspected. He waited for a couple of cars to pass before making his way across Main Street.

Closer to the square, the street had been blocked off with large traffic barriers to allow for free-flowing pedestrian traffic. It appeared that the entire town of 1,288 had turned out for the food fest and that everyone was here milling about.

Did the square have room for 1,289?

Shane bought his ticket and entered the fray. The first booth he came to was a restaurant called Quiche Me Quick. They offered a sampling of quiches.

Quiche?

He hesitated. But since the samples were cut into small pieces and he could take it and eat while he kept walking, he grabbed a plate and did just that.

In fact, he walked right past the next booth. Petite Four, was offering an array of bite-size cakes that were covered in shiny, pastel-colored icing and decorated to look like little presents. Too sweet for an empty stomach. The sight of them made his teeth hurt.

The third booth was even less promising. It was Deloris’s Delicacies, offering what looked like fluffy pink icing that smelled like fish. As if the appearance wasn’t unappealing enough, the smell nearly did him in.

Judging by the first few booths, it looked like the festival was about froufrou food; he craved something substantial. He inhaled again to make sure the delicious smell of something cooking on the grill hadn’t been a sensory mirage. It was still there. It made his mouth water.

“Hi! I’m Deloris. Care to try my salmon mousse?” A petite, middle-age woman, who looked like she would be more at home in a Junior League meeting than hawking fishy fluff, held out a white plastic spoon heaped with the unappetizing stuff. “I made it myself. When I bring it to parties everyone just goes wild over it and asks me for the recipe. They always say, ‘Deloris, you should go into business and sell that mousse of yours.’ So I did. Here, hon, have some.”

She seemed so proud. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. He wasn’t picky, but the fact that he could smell the goo from a distance made him hesitate, despite how a steady stream of people drifted by and grabbed spoons.

“You know what? I just got here and I’m making my rounds to see what looks good. I don’t want to get too full too fast.”

She smiled. “Well, I understand. But you come back and see me. I’ll save you a bite, okay?”

He tilted his chin in what he hoped was a noncommittal gesture. “By the way, would you happen to know where I could find the Celebrations, Inc., Catering booth?”

“I don’t know right off the top of my head, hon, but I’ll look at the festival map and find out for you.”

She placed the mousse spoon on an iced silver tray, walked to a table at the back of the tent and returned with a map of vendor locations.

“Let’s see...” She traced the page with a nail that was painted the same color as her mousse. “Ah! Here we go. We’re here.” She tapped the paper. “You’ll want to scoot right across there.” She traced a path away from her booth, around the large gazebo in the center of the square—where a Country-Western band was playing and people were line dancing—to the other side of the square. “Celebrations, Inc. is in tent number 78. Right under that big old oak tree, across from where everyone’s dancing. Would you like to take this with you?” She offered him the map.

“You might need it later. But thanks for your help.”

She rolled the map into a cylinder. “It was my pleasure. But hey, before you go, are you looking to secure a catering company for an upcoming event? Because I know AJ and if you told her you wanted her to use my mousse, I know she’d do it.”

“Actually, I’m just stopping by her booth to say hello.”

“Oh. Ooh!” Her eyes sparkled as if Shane had confided that he was there to propose to AJ. “How long have you known our AJ?”

Another thing he hated about small towns was how good news tended to travel fast. He needed to nip this in the bud before Deloris told the entire town he and AJ were engaged.

“Actually, I don’t really know her. We have a mutual friend, and I was just stopping by for a second to say hello.”

“Oh.” Deloris looked decidedly disappointed.

As luck would have it, three women walked up to the booth, all hugs and squeals, apparently delighted to have found Deloris and her delicacies. Shane took that opportunity to wave goodbye and make his exit.

He meandered in the general direction Deloris had outlined, past the gazebo, toward the stately oak tree, counting down the booths until he came to number 78. That’s when he realized that the heavenly scent of burgers on the grill was coming from the Celebrations, Inc. tent.

Like a petite, blonde angel, AJ was setting down a tray of small burgers. Exactly what he was craving.

Maybe I should ask her to marry me right now.

Chapter Three

Fluffy clouds like white cotton candy stood out against the brilliant blue sky. What a glorious day to be outside, giving away food. All morning, AJ kept thinking she saw—of all people—that soldier who’d brought her the chocolate. Out of the corner of her eye, she’d catch a glimpse of a tall, broad-shouldered blond guy and immediately her thoughts would skitter to Shane Harrison. Each time it turned out not to be him, a vague sense of disappointment would press down on her.

It was peculiar that she kept thinking she saw him. Usually when that happened, she would end up seeing the person who’d been on her mind.

She didn’t claim to be psychic or think that the false sightings were some sort of precognition; it was just uncanny how often it happened that she thought about someone and later they’d turn up. With the number of false soldier sightings she’d had today, AJ shouldn’t have been surprised when she turned around to set out her ninth tray of samples and found him standing at her tent. Nonetheless her stomach did a triple gainer.

“There you are,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head slightly to the right. “You were expecting me?”

Ugh. “Did I say that out loud?”