A Lowcountry Wedding

A Lowcountry Wedding by Mary Alice Monroe Page A

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Authors: Mary Alice Monroe
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stepping into the house.
    “Harper knows I swing from the hip, don’t you, Sis?”
    “I do.” Harper laughed, closing the door behind them. Carson was always honest, sometimes brutally so.
    Carson leaned forward to give her sister a hug, then pulled back and asked, “Where’s Mamaw?”
    “Oh, she’s here somewhere. Probably in her cottage. She’ll be up in a minute.”
    “The cottage?” Carson asked with surprise.
    “Yes.” Harper paused to kiss Blake and offer him a hug, then turned to Carson. “Mamaw moved into the cottage. I thought you knew that.”
    “No,” Carson said coldly. “Why would she move into the cottage? This is her house.”
    Harper’s smile fell, replaced by stunned surprise.
    Carson immediately realized her mistake and quickly amended, “I mean, it’s your house, of course. But it’s still her house, too. In a way. I mean . . .” She let her words slide away feeling sure her meaning was understood.
    Harper’s stare was defensive, as was the stiffness of her smile. “I would never ask Mamaw to move to the cottage,” she said with some heat. “In fact, I begged her not to. But she insisted. And you know Mamaw when she’s made up her mind.”
    Carson grinned wryly. “That Muir stubbornness.”
    Harper paused, assuaged a bit by the humor. “She said she wanted to have a smaller space of her own. Mamaw has free rein of the house, of course. She comes and goes as she pleases. She still likes to sit on the back porch, the same queen as always.” Harper’s tone grew thoughtful. “But more and more, I find her sitting on the porch of the cottage, rocking, reading a book. I think she finds comfort there, where Lucille lived.”
    “But isn’t it, I don’t know . . . weird? Sleeping in her room?”
    “At first, maybe. But not anymore.” Harper met Carson’s gaze squarely. “This is my home, after all.”
    There it was. The line in the sand. The house now belonged to Harper. She’d bought it free and clear. In doing so, she’d not only provided Mamaw the opportunity to remain at Sea Breeze rather than move into a retirement community alone, but the generous purchase offer had provided Mamaw a comfortable income to live on for as long as she lived. It was extraordinarily fortunate for all of them that the house could remain in the family.
    The tension was broken when Taylor entered the foyer, a huge black dog at his heels. Blake and Taylor greeted each other warmly, leaning forward to slap backs and mutter words of welcome. They were both tall, but the resemblance ended there. Taylor was broad shouldered and muscled and bore the upright stance of a man who’d spent years in the Marines. When Harper had first met Taylor, his hair had been shorn close to the scalp. Now the light brown hair was longer at the top and she’d been amused to see it had a slight wave.
    “Carson!” Taylor stepped forward to wrap her in his strong arms for a firm hug. “Good to see you again. Welcome home. Here to stay now, are you?”
    Carson flushed with pleasure at his hearty welcome. “I’m good. Glad to be home.”
    “You look good.”
    “I stopped at Blake’s place to freshen up.” She glanced at Blake, who met her gaze with a conspiratorial smile.
    “Well, be prepared,” Taylor said ominously. “Harper’s been revving up, just waiting for you to get here. And her grandmotherarrives next week. Whoooeee, Blake”—Taylor patted Blake’s shoulder—“there’s going to be a sea of estrogen bubbling over wedding details here. You and I have to make ourselves scarce and get out of their way. Let’s start with getting ourselves a beer.”
    As the men chuckled and walked off to the kitchen, Harper glanced at Carson and could see the anxiety in her face, the awkward looking around the room, unsure of where she should go.
    “Well, I guess I’d better get settled. Where do I sleep?” she asked Harper, in a nod to her authority over Sea Breeze.
    Harper visibly relaxed. Her smile

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