The Bowen Bride Read online

  Though, if she’d remembered the date and ignored it on purpose...

  He stared at his house and cut the truck’s engine. He and Stewart built the house with their own two hands. They’d spent nearly eighteen months on it, first in the planning stages, then building the white clapboard house on weekends and during their off hours. In the years that followed, Jared planted trees, adding several to those already standing on the property, including strong black oaks to grant the home some much-needed shade. He’d even built a treehouse in the rear, in one of the older trees, so Mandy would have a place to call her own.

  He’d spent the past seventeen years on the sidelines of the dating scene, always wary of letting himself get too close to anyone in particular. At first, because he’d been burned so badly by Corey. But as time wore away the edges of his pain, and he started going on not only first, but on second and third dates, he still found himself holding back.

  After bringing one woman home for dinner, he finally realized why: he’d always wanted Mandy to feel that this was her home. It wasn’t as if there were dozens of single women in Bowen pounding down his door in an effort to become his wife, given the reputation he’d established back in high school. Even so, he never, ever wanted Mandy to think she played second fiddle to a girlfriend who might or might not become her stepmother. Seeing another woman, no matter how caring or wonderful, standing in his kitchen, opening his cupboards searching for a glass, just felt wrong, as if he’d betrayed his own daughter, though she’d only been six or seven years old the night he’d cooked his first—and last—dinner at home for a date. The next time he brought a woman home and made her dinner, he had a feeling it’d be because he wanted to marry her.

  If anyone could understand both the importance and the difficulty of delaying marriage for a more appropriate time, he could. Why couldn’t Mandy grasp that?

  He spun toward the back seat to reach for his duffel bag, resolving not to think about Mandy any more tonight. Maybe after he fed the dog he would flip to a late-season Kansas City Royals game and toss a bag of popcorn into the microwave. Declare a moratorium on serious thought for the night, maybe even invite Jim from the lumberyard to come over and have a beer or two and talk about the baseball teams that remained in the playoffs. Something completely relaxing to celebrate his birthday.

  A knock at the window caused him to jump. “Dad?”

  “Geez, Mandy.”

  “You expecting someone else?” She made a show of looking down the driveway for another car as she yanked open his door. “It’s about time you got here. I called Uncle Stewart and he said you were fixing a baseboard somewhere. He thought you’d be home by five-thirty, and it’s quarter of seven.”

  “The baseboard was at Mrs. Jorgensen’s house, but I had another errand on the way.” He slung the duffel over his shoulder, then walked to the front door with Mandy at his side. “Besides, I thought you were going to be out tonight.”

  “On your birthday? Seriously?” She feigned horror. “Give me a little credit. Maybe I was just getting a surprise ready for you.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” He shot her a look that made it clear he knew she didn’t remember his birthday until late in the day, but Mandy’s face split into the grin of a teenager who knew she’d done the right thing simply by being there.

  “Just come in the house, Dad. You’ll see. Or smell.’’

  “You made a cake, didn’t you?” A peace offering. His heart swelled as he looked at his daughter’s sweet face.

  “It’s in the oven. Should be done pretty soon. And I made you dinner. Spaghetti with lots of veggies.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” He threw an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug before opening the screen door. The aroma of fresh tomato sauce lingered in the air, mixing with the unmistakable scent of a baking cake. As much fun as he’d had with Katie, now he wished he hadn’t had that sandwich.

  Mandy, about two feet behind him, suddenly stopped short. “Hey. You already ate, didn’t you?”

  He dropped his duffel and looked around for Scout, their old German shepherd. Probably fast asleep at the foot of his bed, since Mandy would’ve walked and fed him as soon as she arrived home. “What makes you say that?”

  “You didn’t run for the kitchen.” She held up a hand and ticked off reasons with her fingers. “You didn’t tell me you were hungry, and all you said was that I didn’t have to do it. You’ve eaten. And I bet it was something meaty and disgusting.”

  Couldn’t get one past her. “It wasn’t disgusting and I wouldn’t have eaten, but I thought you weren’t going to be—”

  “Yeah, yeah. My fault. Just don’t mind me while I scarf it all myself.” She walked to the stove and prepared a plate. “So where did you eat? Mrs. Jorgensen have you stay for dinner?”

  “No, just in town.”

  “On your errand?”

  “Yep. Hey, you fed Scout, right?”

  “’Course I did. He’s conked out on the back porch in a food coma. A squirrel went through the yard and he barely looked up.”

  She set her plate on the countertop with a clatter. After pulling up a barstool and popping the top on a soda, she stared across the open space toward where he stood in the family room, trying to find the right channel for the Royals game. “So what was the errand?”

  When he finally found the game, there was a tarp pulled across the baseball field. Rain delay in Kansas City. “Nothing important.”

  “Really? Are all your errands not important? ’Cause I happen to know you were in The Bowen Bride today. And that you offered to pay for my wedding dress.” He turned to look at her, and a slow smile spread across her face, reaching her eyes and making her cheeks glow pink. “Thanks, Dad. I knew you’d understand.”

  Jared clicked off the TV, dropped the remote onto the sofa, then strode to the other side of the peninsula counter so he could face his daughter. “Mandy, this is going to come out sounding cold, but I have to ask. Did you come home and make dinner for me because it’s my birthday, or because of the dress?”

  She wound spaghetti around her fork, but didn’t put it in her mouth. Slowly she set down the fork and crossed her arms. “Both, I suppose. I mean, I would have done it for your birthday alone. And if I didn’t, Aunt Vickie and Uncle Stewart would have—”

  “Just so this is crystal clear to you, Amanda, I do not endorse a marriage to Kevin. Or to anyone, for that matter. Not right now. But I didn’t want you running off to elope, either. If you’re going to do something….”

  He reined in his urge to use the word stupid, and instead just shook his head, walked around the counter, then angled one of the barstools so he could sit beside her. “Ah, hell, Mandy. I’m just trying to do the right thing, and I don’t know what the right thing is beyond telling you not to go through with it. You’re practically an adult now, and I want to treat you as such, especially since my parents didn’t treat me that way when I decided I wanted to raise you.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  “Good. I want you to have a traditional wedding, with the perfect man standing beside you in front of that altar, because I know that’s what you want. But you’re not ready, and I need you to realize that for yourself and wait.”

  Mandy nodded but said nothing. Jared was just about to get up and walk back to the television to see if he could pick up another playoff game—and give Mandy some time to think—when she finally spoke. “Did your errand tonight happen to be at The Bowen Bride, too? Did you have dinner with Katie Schmidt so you could grill her about me? Or did you go somewhere else—like to city hall to check and see if Kevin and I applied for a marriage license?”

  Jared let out an exasperated breath. “Of course I didn’t go to city hall. But if you must know, I did have dinner at the dress shop with Katie. She saw my truck at the Kleins’ and stopped to introduce herself. She wanted me to look at her counter, since it needs to be replaced. Since I thought you were going to be out tonight, I decided to grab a sub from M
ontfort’s with her.”

  Mandy’s face went red. “You’re not having her spy on me or anything?”

  “No.” A lump of guilt rose in Jared’s chest and he forced himself to ignore it. “But I’m designing new counters for her, so I will be around her shop.”

  Silent, Mandy picked up her fork again, absorbing what that would mean for her. He clicked on the game—the Royals were on the field now, though rain still threatened—and pushed off the barstool to scoop some spaghetti onto a plate despite already having eaten. Though he sat beside her, Mandy hardly looked at him. Instead, she stared at the television, not even cheering when one of the Royals knocked a ball out of the park. At a break between innings, he set their dishes in the sink and ran hot water while she wordlessly frosted the cake.

  Some party, he thought.

  When he put the last of the dishes in the rack to dry, she set down her spatula and looked at him. “Did you have a date with Katie, Dad? An actual date?”

  “Honey, I just met the woman today. We ate sub sandwiches and talked about whether she preferred oak or maple for her cabinets. No candles, no romantic dinners, so don’t even think it.”

  “Oh.” She handed him the spatula so he could lick off the frosting, just as he had for her when she was little. She watched him carefully as she spoke. “But I do think it’d be really good for you. To date, I mean.”

  Chapter 4

  Jared stopped working on the spatula and stared at Mandy. “You want me to go out on a date? With Katie Schmidt, the dressmaker?”

  “Well, with somebody, though I think Katie’d be an awesome choice. I assume you know what to do. Or at least you did once, since I’m here.”

  He reared back in horror. “Hey, now—”

  “So, what do you think about her, Dad?” Jared couldn’t help but wonder at the sudden sparkle in Mandy’s eyes. “She’s cute, isn’t she? And there’s something about her that’s, like, magical. I could totally be a matchmaker for you. Totally. She’d go out with you. You’re nice and have good manners and all. If you weren’t my dad and old as dirt, I’d even categorize you as hot.”

  He rolled his eyes as he dropped the spatula into the dishwater. “Mandy, she’s not magical, no matter what they wrote in the Gazette article, and I don’t need you playing Cupid for me. You have enough going on as it is. If I want to date, I’ll date.”

  But even as he said it, he knew he wasn’t being honest about Katie not being magical, nor by acting as if he were indifferent. Something intangible and inexplicable about Katie—something beyond her warm smile or her ability to understand his situation—called out to him, made him want to spend time with her and learn more about her.

  “You liked her, huh?” Mandy’s voice was low and serious, as if she’d just read his thoughts.

  “Is this sudden interest in my love life meant to distract me from yours?”

  “If it works, I won’t be disappointed. The thing is, no matter what’s going on with me, you really should get out there, Dad. I’m an adult now, or almost—you said it yourself. You don’t have to worry about bringing some woman home and having her tell me what to do, because I’m old enough now to tell her to take a hike.”

  “I never—”

  She waved off his argument. “And you’re not that old.” She reeled off the names of several Hollywood celebrities, then said, “Look at them. They’re dating, no problem. You should be out there dating and hooking up with women, too.”

  “Please don’t compare my life to theirs, and never, ever use the phrase ‘hooking up with women’ in regard to my relationships.”

  “Oh, come on, Dad. I’m just saying—”

  “I know what you’re saying. Don’t.” He grabbed a knife from the drawer and pointed it. “Pass me that cake. Let’s skip the candles and just eat.”

  She laughed and slid the pan across the countertop, then opened one of the cupboards to hand him a plate. “Well, if you know what I’m saying, promise me you’ll think about it.”

  “Mmm. Great looking cake, you should have some.” He grinned as he dumped a giant slice onto his plate, making it clear that Mandy should drop the subject.

  But as he strode to the couch, plate and fork in hand, he couldn’t help but think.

  What would Katie say if he did ask her out?

  After the cabinets went in, Katie figured she’d need to put aside funds to have the air conditioning overhauled earlier than she’d originally planned. Winter might be coming in a few short months, but she’d been overheated all afternoon.

  Well, at least since Jared arrived.

  After using the back of her arm to swipe a few beads of perspiration from her forehead, she rose from the sewing machine to wash her hands. Didn’t want to risk sweating all over Amy Cranders’s gown. Tomorrow it would be done, and after Amy came in for her final fitting, it’d be time to stitch Oma’s thread into the hem.

  She turned off the warm water, shook her hands before grabbing the towel, then let her gaze drift across the workroom to the large pegboard where she stored her oversized spools. Oma’s thread rested at one end, on the highest peg.

  How many gowns had their hems stitched with that thread? There had to be a way to find out, though she suspected Oma hadn’t been much for keeping records. Even if she had, those records probably weren’t in the shop. Everything had been cleared out after Oma’s death so her father could rent the place to Mitch Harding.

  She glanced through the drawn-back curtain toward the front room and the reason for the added heat in the shop. Jared crouched near the floor, his back to her, and cocked his head to look down at the yellow measuring tape he’d extended across the front of her old counter. He spun on the toes of his work boots, scribbled something on the wire-bound notebook on the floor beside him, then slid the tape along the other side of the counter.

  Katie was just about to resume her spot at the sewing machine when he caught her staring.

  “Hey, Katie. If you’ve got a minute, I have a couple ideas I’d like to show you.’’

  “Um, sure.” She wiped her palms on her jeans, then strode out to the front.

  He set his notebook on the counter, flipping to a page farther back. “I came up with three different ideas. One would have the cabinets in the same footprint they occupy now, two would be slightly larger. The larger ones would give you an extra shelf on the end, which could hold up to twelve design books, assuming you stick with the same size you currently use. I think it’s worth taking up the extra floor space. You have plenty of room.”

  “Wow.” She looked down at his detailed drawings. He’d listened closely to every word she’d said the previous night, because he’d managed to incorporate every amenity she could want into the design. Not to mention that he’d taken the extra time to measure her design books to be certain they’d fit the space.

  ‘‘Would any of these work for you?”

  “Are you kidding? I’d be ecstatic to have any of them.” She turned the page to look at one of his other designs. When he pointed out an option for additional shelves, she shook her head. “I don’t know that I’d ever have that many books. A customer wouldn’t want to go through that many, even if I offered that many choices. But I love the look of this, particularly the way you’ve drawn the edges. Graceful but functional.”

  “I could put doors on this lower shelf.” He spun the sketch so she could better see what he meant. “Built that way, you could put design books there if you wanted, or use it to store office supplies. There are three drawers here, and plenty of structural support so you could put whatever you wanted on the countertop. It’ll be a real workhorse.”

  Their fingers bumped when they both went to flip to the previous page, and Katie fought the urge not to yank her hand back. “It’s all fabulous. When did you draw these?”

  “Just now. I had to double-check the measurements.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to get control of herself. She’d dated plenty of guys in Boston, and none of them affected
her quite the way Jared did. Had she been sequestered away from men for so long that she couldn’t be casual around them anymore? Well, other than Fred Winston or the occasional groom-to-be who got dragged along to the shop to help pick a gown, in spite of tradition. They didn’t count.

  But maybe that was just it. Jared wasn’t like any of the guys she’d dated in Boston. He was a typical Nebraska man, and you didn’t find many of those in Boston. Maybe she’d been stupid to have such a knee-jerk reaction to local guys because they were who her family expected her to date.

  “Is something off, Katie? I’m happy to adjust—”

  “No, no.” She shook her head. “I really like them. But will these fit in my budget?”

  He grinned. “Definitely, including the countertops, though Stewart would order those from another subcontractor, a company we use out of Blair. I thought you could do Formica again, since it’s reasonably priced and much better looking these days than what you currently have. Maybe with a beveled edge to match the wood on the cabinets. On the other hand, if you’d prefer granite or a solid surface like a quartz, I could search for a remnant at close to the same price. Any of those materials could stand up to the demands of the shop.”

  “If you could find a solid surface that looks good in the shop, I’d be thrilled. Otherwise, I’m fine with a newer Formica.”

  “I’ll make some calls this afternoon. It may take a while to hear back, but I’ll let you know when I do and will get you photos. Depending on who has what, you may be able to see the materials in person.”

  As he spoke, he scribbled out pricing, and Katie nodded her approval. He’d thought of absolutely everything. There’d be no surprises when he finished the job. She cast a quick look at him. “All this is okay with your brother?”

  Jared nodded, but his dark eyes flickered, and Katie knew she’d said the wrong thing, making it sound as if she assumed Stewart had to approve anything Jared did. While he probably did, she shouldn’t have reminded Jared of that fact.