Free Always the Baker, Finally the Bride by Sandra D. Bricker Page A

toward the door.
    “Wait, Sophie. Are you here alone?”
    “I came with Avery. And she’s . . . she’s . . .”
    Jackson watched her closely for a moment, noticing the spark of confusion that flashed in her bluish eyes as they darted about the restaurant.
    “Oh, dear. I’m afraid I’ve . . . I don’t know . . .”
    “I was just headed into the kitchen to say hello to Emma,” he said, standing up and offering his arm. “Would you like to come along?”
    “Well . . .”
    “I know she’d love to see you. Come for a walk with me.”
    Sophie grabbed hold of his arm tightly, and he covered her trembling hand with his as they strolled out of the restaurant.
    “Kathy, if Emma’s mother comes in looking for this beautiful young lady,” he told the hostess at the door, “would you direct her to the kitchen? I’m just borrowing Miss Sophie for a few minutes.”
    “Certainly, Mr. Drake.”
    Sophie sighed, leaning into Jackson as they headed for Emma’s kitchen. She’d become so much stronger and more confident over the last year, and her periods of lucidity were much more frequent now that the family had built such a familiar and established environment for her. But every now and then, he saw that fearful glimmer of someone momentarily lost, and it broke Jackson’s heart every time.
    “Aunt Soph!” Emma cried as they pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen. “Your ears must have been twitching. I was just thinking about you!”
    “Were you, dear?”
    Emma shot Jackson a grateful glance as she wrapped her arms around her aunt’s shoulders. “I need to tell you all about the wedding plans. Are you up for a little chat?”
    “Of course I am, Emma Rae. Of course I am.”
    Avery scurried through the kitchen door and halted next to Jackson as Emma and Sophie wandered away toward the office. Her hand to her heart, Avery sighed, and Jackson squeezed her shoulder.
    “Thank the Lord,” she whispered. “Some days, Jackson, keeping an eye on my sister is like herding kittens. I don’t know how those people at the center keep up with her!”
    “They’re trained professionals,” he teased, and Avery chuckled.
    “How are the wedding plans coming along?” she asked, threading her arm through his as they left the kitchen.
    “You’re asking the wrong guy. As I understand it, I’m just supposed to show up in a tuxedo at the appointed time.”
    “That sounds like Sherilyn.”
    Jackson laughed. “A direct quote. And now that she’s had the baby and she has Kat here filling in, it’s double duty with the organizational directives. There’s nothing going to slip through the cracks, believe me.”
    “Oh, I’ve known Sherilyn for many years,” Avery said with a nod. “I believe you.”
    As they reached the restaurant, Avery tapped Jackson’s arm before releasing it. “I have an early luncheon here at Morelli’s.”
    “With Gavin?”
    “Oh, don’t be silly, dear boy. The day your future father-in-law schedules an early anything is the day Biloxi freezes over.”
    A pop of laughter burst out of Jackson, and he shook his head.
    “No, I’m meeting your sister for an early lunch.”
    A twinge of curiosity pinched him. “Which one?”
    “Georgiann,” she replied with a smile. “Would you like to join us?”
    “I wish I could, but I’m due back upstairs for a conference call.”
    “A pity,” she remarked before pecking his cheek. “You have a lovely phone call, then. We’ll just chirp about you behind your back.”
    “Little
bruthah
, I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”
    “Hi, George.” He greeted her with an embrace as they passed.
    “Wait, you can’t join us?” she asked him. “We’re having—”
    “Sorry, I can’t. Conference call. You two enjoy yourselves.”
    Georgiann tossed her hands with dramatic flair, and Jackson grinned at her as he crossed the lobby.
    “I swanee,” she grumbled as he went. “That boy!”

    Georgia 400 was