The Sleeping Beauty Bride Read online

  Noelia was glad that Sasha had seemed to take their little talk the previous day to heart. Not only did she arrive early, wearing more sensible shoes, but she handled a particularly sensitive customer with tact and a surprising amount of kindness.

  “You did very well with that young woman—the one wanting to get married in a hurry,” Noelia said when they finally had a chance to take a quick break.

  Sasha nibbled a carrot stick. “Well, she seemed pretty young to be pregnant, and yet she just glowed when she spoke about her future husband. I wanted her to be as beautiful as she possibly could be on her wedding day, so that she’ll always have those memories.”

  Noelia’s eyes filled with tears. “Goodness, I’d never have put you down for being sentimental,” she commented. “But you were so patient and reassuring with her, even when she told you her budget.”

  “Yeah, dealing with such a low budget was probably almost as hard as finding a beautiful gown that would fit over the baby bump she’ll have in a few weeks’ time. But we did find one in a high-waisted Georgian style that would cover her tummy without shouting ‘preggers!’”

  “All I can say is that it was very thoughtful of you, the way you treated her. Now, may I ask you a question?”

  Sasha raised her eyebrows as she reached for a celery stick. “Fire away.”

  Noelia smiled. “Couldn’t you just once munch on one of these chocolate cookies? Just so that I don’t feel like such as pig as I devour them . . . All that rabbit food you consume just creates a very guilty feeling in those of us with less willpower.”

  “Really? I’d never thought about that. Sure, I like the odd sweet snack, but would you believe I prefer raw veggies? Ever since I was a little kid—you can ask Aunt Mary if you don’t believe me.”

  The silver bells above the door jangled as two women came in, and moments later, a young couple. It was the start of an afternoon stampede which left Noelia and Sasha exhausted.

  “That was a good sales day, though,” Noelia said as they prepared to close the store. “I’m sure Kelly will be delighted. Especially when she sees the number of inquiries about wedding planning.”

  “I’m sure she will—think there’s a bonus in it for us?”

  “Yeah, really. Dream on, my dear.”

  Once the store was tidy and the stock replenished, Noelia told Sasha she could leave.

  “Great—I have a hot date tonight.” The younger woman grinned as she grabbed her coat and flew out the door.

  Noelia frowned. A hot date? What did that mean, these days? Without warning an image of the man she’d bumped into at the hospital sprang to her mind. “It’s just not like me, to be thinking of dates and guys,” she muttered to herself.

  She paused to run a brush through her graying blond hair, wondering if she should stop the gray in its tracks with a dye job or continue to let maturity take its course. She kind of liked the streaked effect now and one day hoped she would have the same soft white head of hair that her mother and grandmother had had. She frowned at herself in the mirror, a little shocked at seeing herself for the first time as a middle-aged woman growing old in the world. Was she surrendering to aging too easily? Maybe she should make an appointment at the Cuts to Dye for Salon and get Lucy to cover the gray streaks.

  And was that a double chin developing? She tilted her head from side to side, trying to get a good view in the bathroom mirror. Maybe she needed a diet . . . but the memory of Sasha’s raw carrots and celery made her wince.

  What was happening to her? Up until recently she had been quite content with her life. She loved her little house with its gardens. Living alone gave her lots of time for the things she enjoyed, especially the new, lucrative work she had found as Marina Grove’s anonymous author of romantic stories. And working at Wedding Bliss with Kelly was fun. Now she was thinking she should pinch, diet, dye, and starve herself in order to attract a man?

  Oh, no. All her life she had practiced WYSIWYG—What You See Is What You Get—and her friends, family, and late husband had been happy enough with that. Her heart gave that familiar little twist as she thought of Andre, the only man she had ever loved, dead now more than fifteen years.

  She just had time for a quick bite of dinner before her next three-hour shift as a volunteer at the hospital. Maybe he’ll be there again, with his fat book on Welsh history.

  • • •

  Nate put down the phone and rubbed his tired eyes. His office hours had ended for the afternoon, his last client a woman with anxiety issues following a nasty divorce. After listening to her tale of her ex-husband’s philandering and financial irresponsibility, right down to the minute details of their stormy breakup, he’d wondered why people even bothered with marriage.

  Which had brought his thoughts around to his precious daughter. Lydia, who now lay in a hospital bed, lost in an unreachable coma state, because of love. The boy she’d wanted to marry, Daniel Hellman, wasn’t anywhere near good enough for her. Lydia had had a bright future—college and then a career in one of the high-paying, highly respected, professions—while Daniel wanted nothing more than to be grease monkey, punching a time card and making other people rich. He’d never rise to the social circles Nate imagined for his only child.

  The police said there was evidence that there had been a passenger in Lydia’s car the night she careened off the icy road, a person who had left his daughter alone and unconscious on one of the coldest nights of the year. In his bones he was certain that Daniel was the one who’d left Lydia without calling for help. One day, he promised himself, he would have proof, but in the meantime, he had to make plans for Lydia’s future—including keeping her so-called fiancé well away from her.

  If Lydia, like some coma patients appeared to, had even the slightest awareness of her surroundings, surely Daniel’s presence in her room would distress her and endanger any recovery she might make. To that end, he’d ordered hospital security to ensure that the boy never got anywhere near her room. They’d reported back to him several times that he’d been turned away and reacted angrily.

  After his last therapy client had left, Nate had made phone calls to several doctors specializing in various forms of coma treatment. Each had looked at Lydia’s medical records, which he’d sent previously, and each came to the same conclusion.

  “They all say there’s no reason why you can’t wake up, Lydia, so what is happening?” he wondered aloud.

  His last call was to a friend of his older sister’s, Mary Atwell. He knew the woman had recently married her long-lost love and thought she might be able to advise him on a good place to sell or donate a wedding dress.

  His daughter’s beautiful wedding dress, which Lydia would never wear.

  • • •

  Tuesday morning arrived, and a bleary-eyed Noelia was counting the days until Kelly and her new husband, Brett, returned from their month-long honeymoon. Or at least until her friend, Ellie Mae, returned and took over her volunteer role at the hospital. Life was just too busy. She’d been up late editing her latest book—number five in a historical romance series. It was funny, really, how she’d gotten into writing. Nothing had been further from her mind when she’d stopped into a bookstore on her way home from one of the two minimum wage jobs she’d taken to keep herself and her two sons afloat after Andre’s death in a fishing-boat accident. Noelia had been grateful to sit in a comfy armchair, rest her weary feet, and let the quiet soothe her nerves.

  A romance author had been doing a book signing at the store, and she and Noelia had started to chat. The writer gave her lots of advice, and an unexpected dream had been born.

  She’d stayed up late writing a very sexy scene last night—and then when she had fallen asleep, there’d been dreams . . .

  Oh, my, what dreams!

  Noelia rubbed her burning cheeks. Even though she’d written a number of historic and contemporary romances with very sexy scenes, this was the first time she’d dreamed of herself in one of those steamy sequences, and the
man was so familiar . . .

  Memories washed over her, and she sat stunned for a few moments as she realized who her dream companion had been. That gorgeous guy she’d run into—literally—at the hospital, right outside Sleeping Beauty’s room.

  No doubt about it, dreams of the stranger she’d bumped into were a whole lot better than the dreams that had been disturbing her sleep over the last week or so. Or should she say, dream, because it was always the same. Several nights now she had been disturbed by a dream that always woke her up—a vision of a woman who was shouting at her, but she could never hear the words the woman said, and she certainly didn’t recognize her. She sighed again as she pulled on her jacket and grabbed her purse.

  Oh my goodness, look at the time! Noelia prided herself on never, ever being late, yet her dawdling and daydreaming this morning were going to ruin her record. There wasn’t even time to make her usual packed lunch, so she grabbed a carton of strawberry yogurt from the refrigerator and dashed out to her car. I have simply got to get myself out of this funk and stop acting like some hormone-crazed teenager, she warned herself over the short ride into town, and repeated the mantra as she parked her trusty Ford Escape just a few spaces down from Wedding Bliss.

  Why on earth was she losing sleep and dreaming of a man she’d likely never see again?

  Preoccupied with her thoughts, she struggled with the lock on the store’s glass-paneled door, turning her key several times before finally getting the door unlocked.

  “I’m just out of sorts from too little sleep and missing my usual coffee quotient,” she told herself as she pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold.

  The store was empty. No sign of Sasha, who was supposed to arrive early that morning to open up and get the boxes of new stock open and ready for shelving. Honestly, she wasn’t sure whether to be irritated that the young woman hadn’t arrived on time or relieved that she hadn’t been there unsupervised to terrorize some more innocent customers. Although she had to admit that her assistant had behaved very well yesterday.

  She flipped the store sign to open, did a check of the store and window displays, then uttered a quick prayer that she’d have time for a caffeine fix and a quiet respite to plan the day before the first customers wandered in.

  She would be glad when Kelly was back to take over running Wedding Bliss again. She yawned hugely as she worked the settings for the beautiful new coffeemaker Mary Atwell had provided. Brett’s aunt had been so grateful to Kelly and Noelia for helping her find a lover lost nearly half a century ago that she had offered to buy them any thank-you gift they wanted. She was surprised at the modest request from Noelia for a new coffeemaker.

  Noelia shivered a little as she thought of the disturbing presence of the restless spirit who’d been instrumental in finding Troy Matthews, the man who’d left Mary Atwell at the altar so many years before, all due to family meddling. Now finally and happily married, the older woman glowed with love. She just wished that Mary would stop her relentless mission to push every single person she knew into taking a walk down the aisle—whether they wanted to or not.

  Really, she was so happy that Mary and Troy Matthews had found such joy together after family interference had torn them apart so long ago. She just wished Mary didn’t think all her single friends were also longing to get hitched. Oh my goodness! As if she’d conjured the woman, the silver bells at the door jangled, and Mary herself walked in, calling, “Anyone here?”

  “In here, making coffee on that swanky new machine.” Noelia’s voice contained a smile that was reflected on Mary’s face as she made her way into the tiny back room office/kitchen.

  “Well, dear, I can honestly say that my gratitude to you and Kelly goes far beyond the price of a modern coffeemaker. But if it pleases you so much, then I’m delighted, too.”

  “I’ll let you enjoy a nice cup of what is probably the best coffee you’ve ever tasted,” Noelia bragged. “Take a seat on one of the chairs near the cash desk, and I’ll bring it out to you.”

  When Noelia returned with a painted wood tea tray containing two coffee mugs, creamer, and a sugar bowl as well as a plate of her favorite chocolate whole-wheat cookies, she found Mary looking around the store with a calculating eye.

  “The store is very pretty, I must say,” Mary commented as she selected a cookie. “You and Kelly have a very good eye for display and for the variety and quality of wedding goods you stock.”

  Noelia sipped her coffee, eyeing the older woman with some trepidation. “Thank you—but it sounds like there ought to be a ‘but . . . ’ after that.”

  Mary finished her cookie, patted her mouth with a napkin, and began to pour cream into her coffee from the pretty antique floral china creamer. Taking a sip and apparently satisfied with the taste, she went on. “Well, you know, I’ve been thinking that the place could use a little something to perk it up. Oh, nothing dramatic,” she qualified, seeing the look on Noelia’s face. “Just more adventurous paint on the walls, some fancier display cases, maybe add more mother-of-the-bride options.”

  Noelia cringed inwardly. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate having to cope with Mary’s capricious spoiled brat of a niece, Sasha, now another Atwell relative wanted to interfere with her life. Her frown deepened as she imagined Kelly’s outraged reaction to Mary’s suggestions about changing the store that was her pride and joy.

  “I thought I’d talk to you first, dear. I was thinking if you and I were to approach Kelly directly—oh, I know that girl is pretty stubborn, but I think she’ll be as excited as we are once she knows what we have in mind.”

  Lose the “we,” lady—no way are you involving me in this. Noelia hid her face in her coffee cup while she controlled her expression. When she was able, she said, “I really think it would be best if you approached Kelly yourself, Mary. I know Kelly admires your taste.” Oh, will I ever get to heaven for the white lies I tell? “I’m afraid I don’t know a great deal about interior decorating, and besides, I’m snowed under with work.”

  “I think you are very modest. Your little house is a credit to you, so calm and peaceful. And the way you decorated your garden with those tiny twinkling lights for my wedding reception! The guests are still talking about it. I can honestly say that you have a definite talent.” Mary paused for a moment as she reached for another cookie, then asked a question that broadsided Noelia.

  “So, are you seeing anyone?”

  Noelia thought a most unladylike curse. No matter how prepared she thought she was for Mary’s “rush to the altar” attacks, somehow the other woman always managed to blindside her. “No, Mary. You know, I’m not actually looking for a romantic attachment.” She hoped her voice and words were convincing, but one look at Mary’s beautifully made-up face told her she hadn’t succeeded.

  “I know that when one is getting up in years,” Mary went on blithely, apparently not noticing the scowl on Noelia’s face, “it gets harder and harder to find a good and interesting companion.”

  “I was thinking of getting a cat, like Kelly’s Sullivan,” Noelia interjected, but Mary ignored her.

  “What about that handsome man, Jake Twomey, that you were dancing with so much at my wedding? You seemed to have fun with him.”

  “That was after five glasses of wine on an empty stomach and several nights without sleep trying to get everything perfect for you and Troy.”

  “But you seemed so . . . compatible with him!”

  Gesù, Maria, e Giuseppe, I hope not. He had two left feet, bad breath, and talked about the stock market all the time . . . I’m lonely, not desperate, she thought.

  “Well, I think we need to find you a nice beau—someone you could travel with like your friend Ellie Mae and her husband, or just go out and about with . . . ”

  Please don’t. Noelia shuddered.

  Fortunately, she was spared from answering, because at that moment the silver bells danced again to announce the arrival of a customer—a tall, handsome, fifty-something m
an wearing an expensive suit and a sober expression. He was the same man she’d accidentally bumped into at the hospital yesterday! The man she’d had such a hot dream about . . .

  Mary turned to Noelia and winked broadly. She leaned toward Noelia and whispered, “The scenery sure is nice around here. You know, all work and no play can make a person pretty dull. Not that I’m saying that you’re dull, Noelia, but really, you should try dating. Take it from me, I’ve experienced spinsterhood and late marriage, and marriage wins hands down, no matter how late in life it comes!”

  With that, Mary stood, smoothing down her beige slacks and white mohair sweater. She turned to the man with a bright smile as she shrugged into her jacket and gathered her purse. “Nathaniel, my dear! It’s been such a long time. I was so sorry to hear about your daughter. Such a terrible thing. How is she?”

  “Thank you for asking, Mary. There’s not been any change, but we’re hoping.” Nathaniel’s voice was deep and laced with sadness.

  “I keep her and you in my prayers, you know. We must have you over to dinner one day soon, and hopefully by then there will be good news. Perhaps you’ll come, too, Noelia, dear. Nathaniel, this is my friend Noelia, and I am sure she’ll help you with whatever you need.” With a gentle touch on the man’s expensively tailored arm, Mary sailed out of the store leaving a shocked Noelia to reach furtively for the comfort of another chocolate cookie. Dating indeed! How dare that woman!

  • • •

  Nate was thrown off balance as he recognized the woman chatting with Mary Atwell as the same person he’d literally bumped into at the hospital. Remembering his reaction then, it took him a few moments to regroup. A little flutter of his pulse and he knew he would have remembered her no matter when they had last met.

  “Hello, er, Noelia. Mary was the one who recommended your store,” he managed to say. Hell of a coincidence, bumping into the pretty blonde in the hospital, almost outside his daughter’s room, and then to find her and Mary deep in conversation in the very store that Mary had recommended to him. Suspicion tightened his mouth.