Free The Holiday Bride by Ginny Baird

his face in the
paper. “I think he went outside, dear.”
    “Out in that ?”
William asked peering through the back door window. Just as he’d predicted, the
backyard was also flooded with interested suitors. But the figure he’d spotted
and thought was his son was around front. “What on earth is he doing?”
    “I’m not sure,” Emma said, absentmindedly flipping a
flapjack.
    “He said he was selling lemonade!” Carmella proclaimed
between mouthfuls.
    “Lemonade?” William queried. “But it’s December!”
    From behind his splayed paper, Grant just shrugged.
    William pressed his hand atop the sports page, lowering it
to face his father. “Dad? Do you know something about this?”
    Grant coughed lightly. “I don’t see what’s so wrong with a
little ingenuity.”
    William twisted his lips in thought, deciding something
didn’t add up. And wherever the math had gone faulty, his dad was sure to be
involved. He generally was. “I think you should come with me,” he told his
father.
    “But it’s snowing out there!”
    “Don’t be such a big baby,” Emma scolded from the stove.
“Pull on your parka!”

 
    William cut his way through the crowd, Grant reluctantly
trailing along. “Excuse us! Coming through!” William called as two reporters
and several men sprang at him. “I said,
no comment, ” he told the
persistent news angler.
    When they got to the gate, William could scarcely believe
his eyes. There sat Justin, all decked out in his leather jacket and shades,
holding court at a folding table he must have dragged out of the garage. A
poster stuck to the fence behind him boldly stated, “Pay to Play: 10 Bucks!”
There was a coffee can at his elbow stuffed with cash, and William watched as a
beleaguered groom inched up to the table and dug a hand in his pocket.
    “Got change?” he asked, holding out a twenty.
    Justin lowered his shades and solemnly shook his head.
    “Didn’t think so,” the man grumbled shoving his bill in the
can.
    “Hey! Wait!” William called, snatching the cash out of the
can and handing it back to him. “There’s no charge here.”
    He turned his gaze on Justin, who slunk down in his chair and
cast a panicked look at Grant over the rim of his glasses.
    “You, young man,” William said with a shake of his finger,
“are in deep .”
    “Really, son,” Grant added. “What were you thinking?”
    “But Grandpa!” Justin gasped. “Charging an admission fee was
your idea!”
    William huffed and turned toward his father. “Both of you,
in the house, please . Now. ”

 
 
    ****

 

 

 
 
 
    Chapter Seven

 
    A few hours later, Lucy yawned on the sofa. They’d been at
it all day, only breaking briefly for lunch, which Emma was kind enough to make.
One by one, William had escorted each man in the house and asked for his
credentials. After he’d supplied reasonable identification, the guy was asked
to remove his hat, helmet—or whatever—and take a seat. All of the
Kinkaids partook in the questioning, even little Carmella seated beside Lucy.
William was on her other side, protectively close.
    By now, Lucy had lost track of the assorted construction
workers, farmers, and sportsmen with implements in tow, which William had very
wisely insisted they leave on the porch. But it was the undertaker who gave her
pause, pasty pale in his approach, assuring her that their place was nice and
quiet, dark and cool, too. Chill bumps raced down her spine saying, for sure,
he wasn’t the one. Neither was the pilot asking her to come fly with me , the sheik in a turban, or the knight with a proclaimed penchant for the
chastity belt!
    Finally, here before her sat a reasonable looking person, a
mid-thirties naval officer who was really quite handsome, his blue eyes
complemented by his uniform.
    “I’ve spent six long months at sea,” he said sincerely,
“thinking of nothing but you.”
    Lucy sighed, almost daring to believe it. He seemed decent
enough, fine and