Runaway Bridesmaid Read Online Free PDF Page A

girlfriend or nothin’. I just thought most grown-ups had somebody, ’less they were widows like Mama.”
    He slowly shook his head. “Nope. Not me, honey,” he said, then stiffened, wondering if that endearment, too, would provoke a reaction. Apparently not. The child continued the conversation without missing a beat.
    â€œYou know,” she said in a low voice, “Sarah’s all alone, too.”
    His heart lurched like a fish out of water. “She is, huh?”
    â€œUh-huh. Well, sometimes she goes to the movies with Dr. Stillman from the clinic, but they’re just friends.”
    â€œOh? And how do you know that?”
    Katey shrugged, scowling at her sister and her fiancé. “Because they don’t look at each other like that— ”
    â€œKatharine Suzanne!” rang out from the kitchen. “What about this corn?”
    Then, just like Sarah would’ve done, Katharine Suzanne shoved the disgruntled cat off her lap and took off out the front door, her waist-length hair flapping against her narrow back.
    A mixing bowl in a choke-hold between one arm and her bosom, her other hand clamped around a wooden spoon, Vivian Whitehouse pushed through the swinging door and glanced around the room. Not seeing her quarry, her questioning eyes lit on Dean. He cleared his throat and nodded toward the front door, still ajar.
    A sound that was half sigh, half chuckle, rumbled from Vivian’s throat. “Figures.” Then she added, “Sarah’s not here, either?”
    â€œUh…no, ma’am.” Why did he suddenly feel so self-conscious? Wiping the palms of his hands on his thighs, Dean said, “Last I saw her, she was headed toward the kennels.”
    A pair of shrewd gray eyes bore into his. “You talked to her?”
    â€œFor a moment.”
    Vivian nodded, then banged back the swinging door again, jabbed the spoon into the center of the bowl and clunked both down on a counter just inside the door. Wiping her hands on the front of her untucked shirt, she passed Dean on her way toward the front door. “I’ll be back,” she said, then thrust a no-nonsense index finger in his direction. “Then you and I are gonna talk. So don’t you dare move your backside out of this room, you hear me?”
    As the front door closed behind Sarah’s mother, Dean became aware of affianced couple’s attention riveted to his face. He gave a nervous laugh in their direction, then raised his hands guiltily, staring at the space where the imposing specimen of motherhood had just been standing.
    â€œWouldn’t dream of it, ma’am,” he murmured.
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    The dogs had smelled Sarah before she got within fifty feet. Rich, baritone barking and excited puppy yips mingled with another roll of thunder as she approached. Five minutes, she promised herself. Just five minutes.
    â€œHey, y’all!” Sarah scooted into the kennel, upwards of two dozen noses nudging her calves and knees as she tried to greet them all at once. A laugh bubbled out of her tight throat as one puppy immediately latched onto her sneaker lace and gave it what-for, complete with a fierce growl designed to bring the shoe into immediate submission.
    Pointing at the lowering sky, she warned, “Y’all better get inside, now. It’s fixin’ to rain any minute.” In confirmation, a bolt of lightning split the clouds, accompanied by a crack of thunder that made her jump and several of the puppies scurry toward the open door of the converted barn.
    Sarah shooed the rest of the gang inside, shutting the half-door behind them, then swung open the chain link gate to one of the overlarge pens, staring into assorted sets of tiny golden brown eyes.
    â€œI know you don’t want to, but you gotta. Come on, now.”
    Like children forced to come in when they still wanted to play, the dogs reluctantly obeyed, some of them gazing back outside with what