Sharon Swan - Her Necessary Husband

If he noticed the lack of any mention of his own family, Ross made no comment, and the conversation ended seconds later.

Before Jenna could resume her seat at the table, however, the front doorbell rang. She smoothed a hand down the front of the oversize teal sweatshirt she wore with matching cotton pants and went to answer, walking with characteristic purpose. She didn’t amble often, certainly not when there was work to be done, and she still had those invitations to finish.

Opening the door, she found someone standing there who looked much the same at eighty as she had back when Jenna had been a member of her first-grade class. Hester Goodbody’s silver hair might be even more wispy now, but nothing had dimmed the good-natured intelligence gleaming in a pair of memorable blue eyes framed by gold-rimmed glasses.

“Hello, Jenna,” the older woman said with a soft smile.

Jenna had to smile herself as she took a step back. “It’s great to see you, Miss Hester. Please come in.”

As she shut the door behind them, Jenna noticed for the first time that her visitor had a long cloth garment bag draped over one slender arm clad in a skillfully crocheted sweater.

“I won’t be staying long,” Miss Hester said. “I know you must have many things still to do for the wedding.”

Jenna led the way into a small living room that didn’t seem to get much use in the O’Brien household. “Please sit down.”

Accepting the invitation, Hester Goodbody sat on the beige brocade sofa and placed the garment bag beside her. “You’ve grown into a fine-looking young woman,” she said as Jenna sank into a nearby chair.

Fine-looking—not beautiful. Jenna didn’t miss the distinction. Trust Miss Hester to come down on the side of simple truth.

“I hope I look half as wonderful as you do years from now,” she replied with total honesty.

The veteran teacher studied her for a second. “You will. You have excellent bone structure, and nothing withstands the test of time as well as good bones.” She paused. “I assume that good behavior has also won out with you.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, well up to speed on the reason for that comment. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve learned to be a lady, although I imagine you doubted you’d ever see the day.”

“You certainly could be a scamp, but a likeable one with so much zest for life.” The small features of the older woman’s face settled into more serious lines as she continued. “Which is why I’m delighted that you’re marrying Ross. I’ll think you’ll be good for him.”

Good for him? Although far from certain on that point, Jenna was positive of one thing. “I intend to be the best wife I can,” she said with determination.

“I’m glad to hear it.” A thoughtful frown creased Miss Hester’s finely lined brow. “Ross seldom misbehaved in school, you know. It might be that he felt he had the Hayward name to uphold, and if that was the case, I suspect it was more of a burden than most people realized.”

“I suppose you could be right,” Jenna conceded after a moment’s consideration. Not many would easily note a downside to being a member of a well-respected family, but the sharp-eyed teacher who probably saw more than most just might have a point.

“Anyway,” Miss Hester said, “I, for one, am pleased with the coming marriage, although from what I understand you’re having a little trouble deciding what to wear for the occasion.”

Jenna didn’t ask how that understanding had come about. News traveled fast in small cities. She remembered that well from her earlier days in Harmony. Given Hester Goodbody’s long-standing residency, this woman probably had more friends—and thereby sources of information—than anyone in town.

“I’ve narrowed it down to two choices,” Jenna told her. “I plan to take another look tomorrow and make up my mind.”

Miss Hester sat forward. “I have a third alternative.” She patted the garment bag with one thin hand. “I’m hoping you’ll give it some consideration.”

And that was how Jenna found herself viewing a wedding gown made of delicate ivory lace moments later. Long-sleeved and high-necked, it was snugly fitted through the bodice, with a narrow skirt that fell straight from the waist. A floor-length satin slip in the same ivory shade peaked through the lacy fabric and provided a subtle hint of sheen.

“It was my sister’s,” Miss Hester explained. “She was taller than I am—about your height, in fact. And it’s close to the same size as those dresses you tried on.”

Jenna arched a brow, unable to resist the urge to tease. “Which you just happened to hear about?”

“No, which I made it my business to hear about,” Miss Hester cheerfully confessed. “My sister wore this dress when she married Ross’s grandfather, but both her daughter and her son’s bride, Ross’s mother, chose not to wear it for their own weddings. So she added it to some other belongings she left me when she passed away.”

And what about another bride?

Jenna’s silent question was answered in the next breath. “Ross’s late wife also preferred to go with a newer style,” Miss Hester said, “which may have been a prudent decision on her part. This gown would have had to be altered extensively, given that Cynthia was taller than average and very slim. And I must say that she was a vision in pure white during the summer ceremony held on the outdoor terrace of the Founders Club. With your creamier skin tones, however, I believe ivory would better suit you,” she told Jenna, and demonstrated the truth of that by holding a lacy sleeve up to her former pupil’s hand.

“Yes, the color probably would be better for me.” Jenna couldn’t deny what seemed so evident as the delicate fabric brushed across her fingers. But how could she explain that the chance to wear what could be considered a Hayward family heirloom was something she’d never expected to be offered? And maybe never would have been offered, she thought, if Miss Hester knew the circumstances behind the upcoming marriage.

“I wasn’t,” Jenna said as diplomatically as possible, “planning on wearing a traditional wedding gown.”

“Nevertheless, it is lovely, isn’t it?” the other woman wasted no time in asking.

“Yes.” Jenna could hardly contend otherwise. The gown was indeed lovely, and somehow the fact that it was from another era only added to its gracious beauty.

Miss Hester straightened to her full height, which wasn’t very high. “I would consider it both a favor and an honor if you would wear it.”

Looking into sea-shaded eyes that plainly reflected the truth of that solemn statement, Jenna felt herself wavering. She did love the gown. And so would her mother, who hadn’t been able to afford more than a simple dress when she’d been married. Plus there was the fact that it probably wouldn’t have to be altered. She could make sure no damage was done and give it back as she’d received it.

“All right,” she said at last. “I’ll borrow it—just for that day.”

“No, you’ll pass it along as I did,” her companion countered in a no-nonsense tone, suddenly sounding exactly like the teacher Jenna had once known. “And I’ll get my reward from the sight of a young man’s face as he watches you walk down the aisle. All I ask,” she added, “is that you keep it a secret until then.”

Jenna knew when she was licked. “All right, Miss Hester, whatever you say.”

A sudden sparkle lit in Hester Goodbody’s gaze, making her look far younger than her years. “Spoken,” she declared with quiet satisfaction, “like a star member of my first-grade class.”

THE WEDDING COTTAGE had been the site of countless Harmony nuptials over the years. Nestled in the center of a large corner lot on a peaceful street, the two-story frame house painted a mossy green was snugly surrounded by a well-tended garden. There, a wealth of fall flowers dominated the picture, and tall, leafy trees poised on the brink of their annual autumn transformation chimed in to produce a bright scene despite the layer of thin clouds hiding the late-afternoon sun.

Accompanied by his best man, Ross took in the sights around him as he made his way from an adjacent parking lot down a winding sidewalk leading to a side door reserved for the lesser members of the wedding party, which at the moment included the groom. He knew full well that until the ceremony started, the bride was the one who counted—and with that thought in mind, he had to wonder how Jenna was making out. He hadn’t spoken to her since the evening before when he and his daughters had met her family over a quiet dinner hosted by the Lorenzos. Adam, who’d arrived in town a day earlier than the rest of the Lassiters, had joined them.

“Nervous, cuz?” Adam asked as they settled themselves in a small side room. Both men wore dark suits, white shirts, subtly striped ties, and had a tiny red rosebud stuck in the buttonhole of their jackets.

“I was more on edge last night,” Ross admitted, “but I think I passed the test.”

“With flying colors, in my opinion,” Adam remarked. “Your about-to-be in-laws are a nice bunch, and they were obviously thrilled with the girls.”

But were his girls thrilled with them? Ross couldn’t honestly say one way or the other. At least Katie had been more talkative than in recent weeks, and he supposed he’d take that as a good sign.

“The maid of honor is quite a looker, too,” Adam continued. “Too bad she’s too young for me.”

“Glad you recognize that,” Ross said. “Joe Lorenzo might not look kindly on any serious flirting with his youngest child, and as big as he is, a smart man probably wouldn’t test it.”

“Hmm. At least I got to meet the mystery woman. And I have to say you’ve got good taste. There’s definitely something about her that stirs the juices. I mean,” Adam added hastily at Ross’s lifted brow, “my juices might get stirred if she wasn’t well on her way to being your wife.”

Deciding to be satisfied with that concession, Ross looked in a mirror placed on a narrow wall sporting printed wallpaper in masculine shades of brown. He straightened a tie that didn’t need straightening and wondered how many grooms had stood where he was standing. The last time he himself had been a groom cooling his heels in another room, his father had been his best man. Now, it was hard to even imagine that.

Just then, Judge Reynolds, a longtime friend of the Hayward clan, poked his graying head into the room. “Time to take your places, gentlemen,” he said in his usual courteous fashion. “The bride and her party have arrived.”

Adam grinned, displaying a handsome set of teeth. “Showtime, cuz.”

It wasn’t long before both men stood beside the judge at one end of a large room decorated in a garden theme as though it were an extension of its outdoor surroundings. Directly in front of them, a straight walkway displaying a length of floral-print carpeting led to an arched doorway, with long rows of wicker chairs painted a leafy green lining both sides of the aisle.

The room itself was filled with familiar faces, and the most familiar of all to Ross belonged to his daughters, who sat next to Adam’s parents in the first row. He smiled at them, and Katie, dressed in cheery yellow, managed a tiny one in return. Caroline, who was partial to quieter shades of blue and wore it today, nodded her head, but didn’t smile. In contrast, Hester Goodbody, looking well pleased with the day’s events, met his fleeting glance with a wide curve of her thin lips from her seat behind the children.

Music began to swell from a small organ near the rear of the room, and then a shapely brunette barely over twenty appeared in the doorway wearing a floor-length dress of dusky-rose silk. A matching hair ribbon held back Sophie Lorenzo’s cap of short curls. An appealing grin broke through as she approached the men who awaited her, prompting Adam to lean over to his cousin and mutter, “Are you sure she’s too young for me?”