Chapter 9 #2
Reagan sank down and smiled tentatively. “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” she repeated. Forcing herself to let go of the last remnants of conversation with Cade, she refocused on the woman she’d so quickly come to admire for her generosity of spirit as well as her brutal efficiency. “What brings you to the dragon’s lair?”
A quicksilver smile. “You’re not exactly a dragon.”
“Not exactly, but only because you never met my mother. I certainly have the appropriate genetics.”
Eli’s fiancée laughed. “That bad?”
“She was, yes, though she’d probably take it as a compliment.” Emma curled her legs up tailor-style and scooted to rest against the headboard. “What’s up?”
“I actually came down to talk to you about a possible favor.” Reagan fidgeted in her chair. “I hate asking for favors.”
Emma grinned. “Hit me.”
“You coordinate special events.”
“I’ve even tried to make a career of it, yes,” Emma said, grinning wider.
Reagan buried her face in her hands. “I’m an idiot. Of course you have.”
Emma’s laughter was softer than Reagan’s had been. “What’s going on, Reagan? I’m sure I can help somehow.”
“Do you ever coordinate weddings?” Reagan blurted.
Emma’s brows shot up. “Weddings?” Caught off guard, she struggled to pull her thoughts together. “I’ve done them in the past. I worked for a florist in college and did my internship with a national bridal chain’s marketing department. Why?”
“I have to find a wedding coordinator. Have to, Emma. I’m getting married in four and a half months, and with the ranch opening, I haven’t checked off a single thing on my To Do list.” Reagan’s shoulders slumped. “It doesn’t help that I completely suck at this stuff.”
“Hey,” Emma said, moving to the end of the bed and gently bumping her knee against Reagan’s. “You’ve done an amazing job here. There’s nothing wrong with asking for a little help.”
Bleak eyes met her own. “It’s more than ‘a little help,’ Emma.
I don’t have a dress. I don’t even know what kind of dress would best suit my figure.
I don’t have colors because I have no freaking clue how to determine the difference between what one bridal consultant called ‘chestnut’ and another called ‘henna’ and yet another called ‘titian.’” She shoved her hands through her long hair.
“Titian, for heaven’s sake! I had to Google it.
If any one of them had spoken English and just said ‘rust-colored,’ I’d have been fine! ”
Quivering with suppressed laughter, Emma simply shook her head. “I’d be more than happy to help.”
“It’s not exactly ‘help’ I’m after.” Reagan pulled her trademark ponytail down and shook out her hair.
Massaging her scalp, she sighed heavily.
“What would you charge to take over the whole thing? I want someone to give Eli and me a time and place to show up. I want to carry a gorgeous bouquet of seasonally appropriate flowers. I want to take my vows in front of people who received beautiful invitations that I had nothing to do with. I want to eat delicious cake someone else designed and then purchased. I want to dance to music from a live band that plays music I like. And then I want to go on a honeymoon where I can sleep and eat good food and relax, preferably where the weather’s better than it will be here that time of year.
Is that too much to ask?” She laughed, the sound slightly crazed. “I probably can’t afford you, can I?”
Emma considered her. “I have an idea. What if we use your wedding to create a brochure for the ranch, something that promotes destination weddings?”
Reagan flopped back in the chair. “I’d have to have someone coordinate it, then.”
“Exactly, and then you could write it off as a business expense.” Emma grinned as she saw the light go on in the other woman’s eyes.
“We can make it all work within your budget. And my mind is already whirring. I have a few thoughts on how to showcase the venue without compromising your day.” Emma grabbed a notebook, flipped to a blank sheet of paper and began jotting down possibilities, from the type of dress that would showcase the tall woman’s willowy form, to possible colors, to trendy cake flavors, to the number of guests the couple planned to invite.
Reagan hopped up and pulled Emma into a huge hug. “Promise me you’ll do it, that you’ll handle the whole event. I don’t want anyone else. I’m sure Eli will agree.”
Something in Emma bloomed. She hadn’t felt so necessary in ages, so important to one person’s happiness. “I promise. I’ll handle it all myself.”
“And you’ll be here, right? You won’t handle it remotely, but you’ll be here, prepared to talk me out of knocking Eli out and dragging him off for a Vegas quickie?”
A sharp burst of laughter escaped Emma at the idea of just such a thing, both participants clad in their wedding finery, the bride shoving the groom in her mobile veterinary clinic truck and leaving stunned guests in a cloud of dust. “I promise you I’ll be here, Reagan.
I’ll even pinkie-swear, but I draw the line at blood oaths. ”
Reagan chuckled, then grabbed Emma by the shoulders. “Can I ask you something?”
“Another favor?” she teased.
“No.” The woman’s gaze bored into hers. “I know you and Cade have been together.”
The blood rushed from Emma’s cheeks so fast she got light-headed. “I’m sincerely sorry, but what happened is between us. I can’t discuss it and would ask that you don’t, either. It won’t—”
“Do you care about him?” Reagan asked, abruptly interrupting Emma’s rushed explanation. “I want the truth, Emma. That’s all that matters to me. Not what happened or whether it will happen again. I swear to you. I only want to know if he matters to you.”
“He does,” Emma choked out around the fifteen-car pileup of emotion in her throat. “More than I want to either admit or deal with. Why?”
The other woman closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I’m getting married. It’s not so crazy to want my first real girlfriend ever to be happy, too, is it?”
Ignoring the gentle pang of envy that rang through her heart, Emma chose to focus on the fact that this amazing woman considered her a friend.
“No. I suppose it’s not.”
CADE LAY ON his bed and listened to the murmur of feminine voices next door. He’d left the bathroom door cracked, but all he could catch was a word now and again—dragon, marriage, dude ranch, brochure, budget, Eli, death, hate, help.
Was Reagan explaining how Cade had almost ruined the ranch? That Eli, with his wealth and generosity, was the only one that had been able to save the ranch from being shuttered after an outbreak of shipping fever?