Free The Holiday Bride by Ginny Baird Page A

upstanding. Broadly built across the shoulders, too. She
caught William watching her careful perusal of his chest and coughed.
    “Where did you say we lived again?” she asked, taking a sip
of water Emma had placed on the coffee table for her earlier. All this talking
had left her parched. Maybe, here at last, she’d come to her oasis. She looked
the officer in the eye and he shared a winning smile.
    “In the prettiest little house, with a white picket fence.”
    “Oh,” she said, charmed. “That sounds lovely.”
    William stroked his chin and glanced at the guy. “White
picket fences are a pain, you know,” he told Lucy.
    Grant leaned forward in his wing chair. “It’s true. Have to
paint them every year.”
    “No worries about the little lady lifting a finger,” the
officer said. “She can leave all the manly work to me.”
    William shifted uncomfortably as Grant watched his son. Emma
surveyed them both before jumping in. “So what about ID?”
    The officer turned toward her, confused. “My military
credentials? I already showed those.”
    Grant nodded approvingly at his wife. “Not those. We’re
talking something more personal.”
    “Personal?” the man asked.
    “You bet,” William said.
    “Something to prove you’re the real McCoy.”
    “Proof! Yeah, we want proof!” Carmella butted in.
    Justin sat nearby watching the show with interest, but
didn’t say a word. Lucy glanced at him and then at the others.
    “Proof’s not a bad idea,” she said, guessing what the
Kinkaids had in mind. She studied her engagement ring a moment and looked the
officer in the eye.
    “Well now, I was out at sea,” he faltered, “I’m not sure how
much you think I—”
    “You would certainly know your nickname?”
    “Nickname?”
    “Sure, you know,” Lucy said brightly. “Something I might
have called you. Something…” She flushed a little inspite of herself. “…intimate
between the two of us. A pet name?”
    He stared at her, dumbfounded, then searched all of their
faces. “Fido?”

 
    William closed the door a few seconds later as Emma spoke.
“And to think, it looked like we were getting close there for a minute.”
    “Harrumph,” Grant said, shaking his head. “All a bunch of
nut jobs.”
    “I’m afraid you’re right, Dad,” William agreed.
    Lucy sighed, exhausted. At this rate, they’d never find her
true home.
    William regarded her sympathetically. “How about we take a
break? You look as if you’re done for the day, and you still should rest after
that whack on the head.”
    “That would be terrific,” she said, feeling her tension
ease. Who knew it could be so hard trying to find the man you were in love
with? “But what do we tell the others outside?”
    “Don’t worry,” William said, “I’ll take care of it.”
    William stepped out on the porch as Emma and William took
Carmella into the kitchen for a snack. Justin lingered behind, eyeing Lucy.
    “You’ve really got them lined up around the block,” he said.
    “Thanks to your Web page,” she said, attempting to be
pleasant.
    “Naw. I’d said it’s thanks to whatever it is Dad’s been
staring at.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I think you know what I mean. He’s been looking at you all
goo-goo-eyed ever since you got here.”
    “Your dad’s just trying to help.”
    “Yeah, and so are you. Help yourself to this family,” he
said with a bitter edge.
    “Justin, that’s not really fair. Nobody wants to know who I
am any more than I do, believe me.”
    “Meanwhile, you’ve got it awfully cushy not knowing, don’t
ya? Cushy enough to worm your way into my dad’s heart.”
    Lucy’s face warmed. “I... You don’t know that’s true.
Besides, my stay here is only temporary. Very soon I’ll have my old life back
and be out of your way. But Justin, in the meantime...” She studied him
sincerely. “I’d sure like it if you and I could make some sort of peace.”
    “You mean like, if I’m not nice to you,