What a Bride Wants by Kelly Hunter Page A

he’d be here. I don’t want him to think that I don’t trust him to keep his word.”
    Ella ’s father just looked at her.
    “ You know he’s not in Marietta anymore?”
    “ Ray said.” Her father took his cap off and wiped at his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. “Still. I presume he owns a phone?”
    Ella nodded.
    “Text him. Ask him what time he’ll be here.”
    “ Oh, that’s clever.”
    “ Yeah,” her father drawled dryly. “I’m Einstein.”
    “ Could be I’m feeling just a little insecure.” Ella held up her forefinger and thumb about an inch apart and watched her father smile. “But I will. I’ll text him. I’m not sure I ever gave him a time we had to be there.”
    The doors opened at 7 pm. Before that, there were drinks in the bar. Dancing commenced at eight. At some point during the evening someone would launch Marrietta’s Great Wedding Giveaway competition. As far as Ella was concerned, as long as they turned up before pumpkin hour she could still say she’d been to the ball.
    Although turning up a few hours before midnight would be better. “I’ll call.”
    “ That’s my girl.”
    But when she called, Sawyer ’s phone was either turned off or out of range.
    Ella picked her way through a late lunch and then decided she needed to make bean soup with ham hocks. She took a shower once it was simmering gently, but there was no sense putting on her ball gown yet. She had soup to stir and biscuits to make first.
    Her father came in just at six, took one look at her and the soup and the kitchen counter covered in biscuits, and wisely headed for the emergency kitchen whisky instead. “Did you get hold of him?”
    “ Not yet. But he’ll be here. He will. And then I’ll get dressed.” Ella pulled a fresh batch of biscuits from the oven and dumped them on the cooling rack on the counter. “Biscuit?”
    Her father took a biscuit and wisely opted not to say another word.
    S awyer turned up just at dusk, wearing a suit tailor made for those magnificent shoulders and bearing an armful of mixed colored roses. He stood on the front porch, with the mountains in the background and Ella thought she’d never seen anything more magnificent.
    “ These are for you,” he said and held them out to her. “There would have been chocolates too, only Sage sold them because I didn’t get there before closing time. And I don’t know if you still want to go to that Valentine’s ball with me or not, but we could.” He took in her jeans and plaid shirt. “If you wanted to.”
    She took the flowers from him. “I’ve been waiting for your call.”
    “ I did call.”
    “ On Wednesday .”
    “ Yeah, but I said I’d be back for the ball.”
    “ It never occurred to you to phone again today and confirm it?”
    “ It did occur to me. There should be a message on your mobile. Or four.”
    “ Oh.” Still. “Mardie thinks I should skewer you for leaving without notice.”
    “ Mardie’s mean.”
    “ My father hid all the shotguns.”
    “ Smart man.”
    “ It’s a good thing I don’t have an impulsive streak.”
    “ Yeah. Hey, Ella.” All of a sudden he looked uncertain. “Got a couple of things to mention. Updates, of a sort. The kind could impact on whether you want to go to the ball at all. With me.”
    Ella reached out and dragged him in and shut the door. “What do you mean?”
    “ Is your father in? Because maybe he needs to hear this too.”
    “ My father’s in his study.” And that was where she headed.
    Her father took one look at them both and headed for the whisky.
    “ Where’s mine?” Ella said as she set the flowers on the sideboard.
    Silently her father poured two more.
    “ Here’s the deal.” The playful note in Sawyer’s voice had disappeared and about three ton of steel had taken its place. “My older brother is going down for rape, corporate embezzlement, assault, and half a dozen other assorted felonies. This isn’t a surprise because he’s done it all