“My old boss loved reading your books,” I said. “Annie always swore they took her mind off the crazy brides, and the scarier the story the better. She’s a big fan.”
“That’s good to hear.” Wyatt nodded. “I’m honored that she enjoys them.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hastings.” I tucked the paperbacks beside me.
“Call me Wyatt,” he said, making himself at home in the opposite chair. “After all, I sort of rescued you. We should be on a first name basis, don’t you think?”
I nodded. “Thank you, Wyatt. I look forward to reading them.”
We chatted for a few more minutes and Wyatt left, saying he was on a deadline and needed to get back to work. Thomas walked him out, and I waited until Thomas came back to ask about Wyatt and how he’d gotten the scars.
“It’s a sad story,” Thomas said. With a quiet sigh, he sat in the chair Wyatt had vacated. “When Wyatt was ten-years-old, there was a fire at his family’s home.”
“Oh no,” I said.
“The fire trapped Wyatt and his brother on one side of the house,” Thomas explained. “The boys had tried to get to their parents but couldn’t. Even though he was injured, Wyatt still managed to help his younger brother, Xander, climb out the second-floor window. They jumped down and dropped to the ground.”
“What happened to his parents?” I asked.
Thomas shifted in the chair beside me. “They both died in the fire. Smoke inhalation.”
“Oh, that’s so sad.” My heart ached for those two young boys.
“Wyatt was in the hospital for weeks recovering from the burns, and other injuries. After he was well enough to be released, he and Xander lived with their grandparents until they went off to college.”
“So now Wyatt is a writer.” I nodded. “I recognized his pen name, but would never have put it all together unless he’d given me his books.”
“Our Wyatt likes a quiet life and he’s very protective of his privacy.”
“The first time I met him, he made a joke about getting out of the house once a week, whether he needs to or not.”
Thomas chuckled. “That’s actually true. He stays at home writing for the most part. He doesn’t tour, and rarely does publicity events for his novels.”
I tucked a pillow under my injured arm for more support. “How did he and Duncan become friends?”
“He’d hired Duncan to remodel a few rooms and build him a writer’s studio, about five years ago. Wyatt and his brother had inherited the house from their grandparents and it needed some modern updates. It’s a lovely, old Greek Revival Italianate built in 1857. It’s only a few blocks from here.”
“What does his brother do for a living?”
“You’ve already met him.” Thomas smiled.
“I have?” I smiled. “When?”
“He was one of the EMTs who tended to you after your car accident.”
***
Time flew by, my sling came off and suddenly it was March. My first taste of a mid-western winter was quite the eye opener. I was shocked to see that winter showed no signs of abating, and Thomas explained that they often had more snow in Missouri in the month of March than in January.
We’d been staying in the mansion for over three weeks, and during that time I’d grown closer to Thomas and Julian. I also felt fortunate to have started a real friendship with Nina.
Once the orthopedic doctor gave me the all-clear, I was more than ready to return to the cottage, drive again, and get back to a regular routine. I worried it would hurt Thomas’ feelings when I moved out—even if it was only across the lawn. But I needed to be on my own.
I had a big wedding to coordinate in less than sixty days, and I’d also managed to pick up a few new events as well. The Sugarplum Fairy birthday party I’d done for Charlie Bell had worked wonders in getting my name out there. I managed to meet with a few interested clients—even while still in my sling—to go over proposals for parties, and a small wedding in September.
The first official day back in the cottage had been easier than I’d thought. After I’d taken Willow to preschool myself, I returned to find some of the staff from the main house had brought all our things back for us. Kindly, one of the cleaning ladies stayed for an hour and even helped me unpack and settle in.
After she left, I puttered around the cottage and felt content to be at home. The little house felt warm and welcoming again. I took my time and got re-dressed to meet a client at the Black Cat Coffee House. After that, I had an afternoon appointment at the bridal salon to oversee Autumn’s wedding gown fitting.
The roads were clear as I drove through town, and now that I was able to drive, I needed to take Julian up on his offer of teaching me how to maneuver in the snow. I could privately admit to being a bit paranoid about the winter weather these days. I’d had weather alerts set up to send me push notifications on my cell phone. I didn’t ever want to be caught unaware or unprepared for snow again.
I walked into the coffee shop carrying my monogrammed tote bag and headed for the counter. It was lovely to be welcomed by name, and it made me feel like a local. I picked up my coffee and selected my favorite table in the back. From there, I could watch all the comings and goings on Main Street, and still keep an eye out for my bride and groom. I popped open my laptop and got to work answering emails from potential clients and my vendors. Business was picking up. If things kept moving as they were I might need to look into renting office space.
When the chair pulled out across from me I lifted my eyes and was surprised to see Wyatt Hastings, as opposed to my September bride and groom.
“Magnolia,” he said, sitting in the
