Deep Night (7 page)

She nodded stiffly, obviously anxious for him to leave her alone.

Without saying another word, Chris left the room and pulled the door closed behind him. He was confused and concerned. The little girl had triggered something in Sara that he suspected went much deeper than her worries about the child. She was clearly relating to this situation on a more personal level.

Chris thought back to their childhood. He had known her mother and her father. They had divorced when she was a teenager, but that wasn't unusual. Most of his friends came from broken homes. Sara had showed no sign of duress or abuse that he could remember. But then, he had been an oblivious teen boy, focused on his own life. Had something been going on all that time? Had he been such a bad friend that he hadn't noticed? And worse, was Sara a victim of abuse?

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,”
he mumbled, timed with each slap of his bare feet against the old wood floor. She needed his friendship, and he had acted like a horny teenager on a first date. Not cool.

In an unusual show of extravagance, Rusty and Julie had rented a beautiful house that was perched on top of a hill in Genesee, an area just outside of Denver. It was an easy drive up I-70 at the base of the Rocky Mountains, close enough that guests could get there in less than an hour from almost anywhere in the city. It was also large enough that the entire wedding party could spend the night after the party if they overindulged or just wanted to wake up to a view of the snow-capped peaks.

In spite of its easy accessibility, the ride up to the house was mostly silent. Chris had volunteered to drive, so he was behind the wheel of his ten-year-old midnight-blue Ford Focus. It was not the car of his dreams, but it was the car he had been able to afford his senior year of high school. Sara sat quietly, pressed up against the passenger-side door, staring out at the scenery as if it were the most amazing sight on earth. Actually, it was pretty impressive, but her mind was a million miles away.

He had tried to start a conversation, but after a couple of brief responses, it had trailed off to nothing. Finally giving up, he increased the volume on the radio and pretended it was his favorite song. He wished he were brave enough to come right out and ask what was bothering her, but his area of expertise was bloody wounds and not tortured souls.

Sara didn't seem any more inclined to broach the subject than he was. He slid a surreptitious glance at her. Wearing a pair of silky turquoise palazzo pants with a white tank top and flowered jacket that matched the pants, she looked cool and elegant, but the loose style completely hid her figure. No wonder he had never suspected the feminine curves she disguised so well. At least it was a pleasant change from seeing her in their standard medic uniform or baggy shorts and T-shirts.

“It's a beautiful day for a wedding, isn't it?” Chris's mother, Pat, was taking a suitcase out of the back of her Lincoln MKX as they parked behind her in the circular driveway. “Can you get those gifts and take them inside?”

Chris gave her a big hug. “Happy Mother's Day, Mom.” He handed her a card that had a gift certificate for a spa day. He knew that was kind of a cop-out, but his mom had everything, and she would enjoy a day of pampering. Sara, too, gave her a hug and a card; then they gathered up the pile of wrapped wedding presents stacked on the backseat and followed his mother into the house. It was bustling with activity as the caterers set up the after-ceremony dinner and the decorators put the finishing touches on the flagstone-patio seating area outside.

“Hey, it's about time you showed up. You're two beers behind,” Sam told Chris as soon as they dropped the presents off on a side table.

“I'm going to check on Julie,” Sara told them, and headed down the hallway toward the master bedroom wing.

Chris admitted feeling relieved. Until he figured out how to deal with this situation with Sara, he was glad to spend some good ol' drinking time with his brothers.

“Where's Rusty?” he asked.

“He's getting dressed,” Sam answered.

“I'm sure he needs our help,” Chris said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. “He's probably sweating bullets.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, let's go give him a hard time.”

They grabbed three cold beers out of the refrigerator and headed to the opposite side of the house where the rest of the bedrooms were located. Rusty, fully dressed except for his bow tie, which hung loose around his neck, paced around the large room like a tiger at the zoo.

“Where the hell have you guys been? I'm going crazy in here!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw them.

Chris handed Rusty a beer, and they all three screwed off the tops simultaneously. “To happy endings,” Chris said as they clicked the long necks of their beer bottles together and drank deeply.

“I've been exiled to this room so I won't be able to accidentally see Julie before the ceremony. Why can't we just get the damn thing over with?”

“Julie said you were the one who insisted on all this.” Sam plopped down on one of the overstuffed armchairs. “So, this is kind of your fault.”

Rusty stopped in front of the window and stared out over the scenic expanse of mountains and valleys that were behind the house. “I did this for her. She deserves something big and wonderful.”

“Hey, she's got you,” Chris chuckled.

“I'll bet she would have settled for a quickie ceremony at City Hall,” Sam added.

“I don't want her to have to
settle.
” Rusty looked at them over his shoulder. “She's had too many bad things happen to her. Her ex-husband almost beat her to death. She even lost a baby because of that asshole. I want her to know that this marriage is going to be a lot different.”

“Good job, then,” Chris told him, and held out his bottle in a supportive toast. He joined Rusty at the window. “Looks like the guests are starting to arrive.”

They watched as people trickled out of the house and seated themselves on one of the white folding chairs that had been set out in rows in front of a flower-covered arch. They didn't have any other family in the area, but friends from the police, fire and EMS departments were turning out in full force. Their work was so stressful that they never turned down an excuse for a party, especially one with such a breathtaking setting…and free booze.

“It's showtime!” their father, Jack, announced as he swung the bedroom door open.

Rusty's hands shook as he tried to twist the ends of the bow tie into a proper knot. Chris smiled, but he didn't comment. In all his twenty-seven years he had never seen his older brother so nervous. The man ran into burning buildings and carried out unconscious people on his shoulders for a living. Nothing flustered him. Of the three brothers, he was the biggest and the strongest…but right now, he was a hot mess.

“Here, let me tie that for you.” Jack pushed his son's hands away and deftly flipped the loose ends into a perfect bow tie. “There, all set.” He forced Rusty to meet his gaze. “We Wilsons take marriage seriously. Are you sure you're ready for this?”

Rusty took a deep breath and relaxed. A wide, genuine smile spread across his handsome face. “Without a doubt, Julie's the one.”

Jack's hand rested on Rusty's shoulder for just a few seconds longer, and he nodded. “Then let's get out there and do it.” He led the way out a back door. A cellist sat off to the side playing a classical song Chris recognized but couldn't name. The conversation dropped to a murmur as Jack went to his seat next to Pat, and the three brothers lined up on one side of the arch next to the minister.

It was easy to see the resemblance. They were all about the same height, each one or two inches over six feet. Their father's dark hair was sprinkled liberally with gray, but it had once been almost the same rich, dark brown as Rusty's and Sam's. Only Chris's was a couple of shades lighter, like their mother's. He also had her blue-gray eyes, while the other two boys' and their father's were a deeper blue.

Rusty shifted nervously from foot to foot as the music slid seamlessly into
“The Wedding March
.” The audience turned and all eyes focused on an adorable little girl Chris recognized as the fire captain's four-year-old daughter, who was carrying a little basket and sprinkling rose petals on the flagstone path. When she reached the front, attention turned to the first bridesmaid as she walked down the aisle, a little more briskly than usual. Chris's gaze moved up the slender bare legs, over the slim hips and tiny waist, lingering briefly on the firm breasts, then up to the face…

Holy shit,
it was Sara! And she was beautiful.

He couldn't remember seeing her in a dress before. Ever. Pants, jeans, even shorts, but never anything pink. And certainly nothing like this sexy, strapless dress that showed off everything. Her short blond hair was fluffed into tousled curls and she was even wearing some makeup. Just a little mascara that made her eyes seem even bigger and rose-pink lipstick on her full lips. The spots of blush high on her cheekbones were totally natural, as she was obviously very uncomfortable under everyone's appraising eyes.

Chris realized his mouth was hanging open, and he snapped it shut. How had he never noticed what was right under his nose? Had he been that self-centered in high school? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember seeing her at any school dances or homecomings. Now that he thought about it, she probably hadn't been there, and he hadn't even noticed that either.
God,
he was a horrible friend.

Kate McKinney, the maid of honor, approached, and Sam let out a low wolf whistle. He and Kate had met last summer, when he had rescued her from being killed by a psycho stalker. Although they weren't engaged yet, they were definitely heading that way. It was obvious by the way they looked at each other and were always holding hands and stealing kisses that they were very much in love.

But nothing compared to the sparkle in Rusty's eyes when Julie appeared in the doorway. He immediately stopped shaking and grinned with obvious pride as he watched her glide down the aisle. Her strapless wedding gown was a blush pink with a long, soft skirt that flowed behind her in a slight train. The empire waist completely disguised her baby bump. She had pink and red flowers woven into her long, dark hair instead of a veil, and she carried a bouquet of peonies, poppies and roses.

Her gaze locked on Rusty's, and for the rest of the ceremony as the minister spoke, it was clear she and Rusty were the only people on the planet.

Chris was truly happy that his brothers had both found such great loves. But just as he had looked longingly at their Matchbox cars or their video games or even their real vehicles, he now wondered what it felt like to love and be loved like that.

He'd never even had a serious girlfriend. Not that he lacked for dates, but they were recreational, not emotional. And usually he was fine with that. But today, surrounded by people who were crazy in love, he felt like an outsider in his own family…and in the whole world. He let his gaze shift slightly, and he caught Sara looking at him. For a second, they froze, then both quickly looked away. It could have been a bonding moment. Instead, it made him feel more isolated than ever.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The minister's voice broke into Chris's thoughts. Rusty leaned over and Julie met his lips halfway in a kiss that lasted well past appropriate. Several guys from the audience hooted and yelled, “Get a room,” and the newlyweds finally broke apart. The couple turned to face the audience as the minister announced, “May I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Russell Wilson.” The cellist burst into an enthusiastic version of Billy Joel's “
Just the Way You Are”
as they walked back down the aisle toward the house, stopping often to say hi along the way.

Sam took Kate's arm and followed. Chris and Sara stared at each other, then linked arms and joined the procession. “I didn't know you were going to be a bridesmaid,” he said to her.

“Neither did I,” she admitted with a wry smile. “Julie's other bridesmaid got called out at the last minute on an emergency, and”—she waved her hands down the dress—“as luck would have it, it was my size.”

“You look amazing,” Chris told her.

She squinted at him, trying to decide whether he was sincere or joking around. “I don't wear dresses.”

“I know. Julie must have been quite persuasive.”

“She was,” Sara admitted. “She started crying.”

“Softie.” He flashed a crooked smile at her.

She shrugged. “Yeah, so shoot me.”

He could think of about a half dozen things he'd like to do to her, but shooting wasn't one of them. They reached the back door and were separated by the photographer, who was trying to set up group photos.

Dinner was a lively affair. Mixing firefighters with cops and a couple of paramedics almost guaranteed that the conversation would become loud and mostly inappropriate.

“How do you make a firefighter come?” one of Rusty's buddies shouted.

Someone else yelled, “Call 9-1-1.”

Everyone groaned, but laughed.

Sam called out, “How many firemen does it take to change a lightbulb?”

Another cop from across the room shouted out the punch line: “Four. Three to cut a hole in the roof and one to change the bulb.”

“What do cops and firefighters have in common?” one of the firemen called out. He didn't even wait for a response before answering, “They all want to be firemen.”

An equal amount of laughter and boos started a barrage of bad, bawdy cops-versus-firemen jokes until Jack stood and clinked his knife against his glass.

“It seems like only yesterday that my wife and I were the bride and groom,” he said to the quiet room. “Then along came Rusty and our lives changed forever. He started walking when he was ten months old and hasn't stopped moving since. He was the first to explore a cave or to climb a tree or to jump off the roof…which could have been worse if he hadn't landed in his mother's flower bed. But I never thought he'd be the first down the aisle. That is until I met Julie, and I saw that her heart was as big as his.” He raised his glass of champagne. “To borrow from an old Irish blessing,
May the best day of your past be the worst day of your future.
”

Everyone clinked their glasses together. Sam rose for the next toast, followed by Chris and a half dozen others. By the time the last toasts had been given and the cake had been cut, the caterers had set up tables and chairs outside, positioned around a portable dance floor. A disc jockey had stationed his booth under the arch, and as he started the song “
Making Memories of Us”
by Keith Urban, Rusty pulled Julie into his arms for the official first dance.

Who knew Rusty, a big, brawny firefighter, could hold a woman in his arms with such tenderness? They didn't do any fancy steps, but they were in perfect unison as they moved around the floor. The song segued into Eric Clapton's “
Wonderful Tonight,”
and everyone grabbed a partner and joined the newlyweds on the dance floor.