Page 16 of The Runaway Bride's Vow

She moved swiftly through her morning routine. Of course, it helped that she’d been awake before her alarm. She told herself that being ahead of her normal schedule was due to her anxiousness to jump into her work now that she was in charge, and it had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to see Logan again.

She’d even skipped her morning stop at Lacy’s coffee shop and instead opted to make coffee at the office. She had hopes of getting through the work at the office before lunch and being able to get to the chapel even earlier; however, that didn’t happen.

Even though they were temporarily not taking on any new clients, they still had a full calendar of upcoming weddings. There were various problems to be dealt with. Sometimes it was just a matter of listening to the bride’s concerns and assuring her that everything would work out. Other times it took some considerable effort to resolve the problem, such as the wrong wedding dress being delivered or the bridesmaids dresses being ordered in the wrong color.

It was after lunch by the time she made it to the chapel. She was pleased when she pulled into the parking lot to find a team of men on the roof, ripping off the shingles. A large dumpster sat next to the chapel, and the shingles were tossed inside.

Mabel Grace made her way toward Brooke. “They’ve been working since early this morning. What a racket.”

Brooke shielded her eyes as she stared up at the roof. “But they’re making good progress.”

“Yes, they are. I can’t wait to see the place when it’s all done.”

“Me too. It should look fantastic.”

They talked for a couple of minutes, before they each went their own way. Brooke headed up the steps and into the chapel. As soon as she got inside, she came to a stop. Where was Logan? Perhaps he’d been outside and she’d missed him.

This would give her a chance to assess the interior progress. She made her way down the aisle as so many brides had done. And suddenly Logan appeared from behind the stand in the front of the chapel. Her heart leaped into her throat.

She tripped. She reached out, catching herself on the end of the bench.

He rushed toward her. “Are you okay?”

Heat flamed in her cheeks. “Yes. I’m fine. You just startled me.”

His eyes shone worry as he glanced down at the floor, as though searching for whatever it was that she’d tripped on. When he didn’t spot anything, his face scrunched up in a frown.

“I think I tripped over my own two feet,” she explained.

She followed him to the front of the chapel and found Kaylie curled up on an old comforter with her toys around her. She looked so calm and serene, nothing like the energetic little girl she’d met the day before.

Brooke lowered her voice. “I wanted to talk to you about the project.”

“Don’t worry. Everything will be back on track by the end of the weekend.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. I wanted to know if there was something small I could do. I would like to do something special for Clara and Andrew.”

His forehead scrunched up. Then he arched a brow. “Do you know anything about carpentry?”

She wanted to shock him and tell him that she knew all about it, but the truth was the only thing she knew was how to mend fences or barn stalls. This fine woodwork was far from anything she’d ever worked on. But her lack of experience wasn’t going to get her to back down from her idea.

She planted her hands on her hips and tilted her chin upward until their gazes met. “No. I don’t. But there has to be something I can do to contribute.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s it. You’re just going to dismiss my request without even giving it any thought.”

He turned and stepped up behind the stand, where he’d been working when she’d first entered the chapel. If he thought he was going to blow her off, he had another think coming. She followed him.

She glanced at his current project and got an idea. “Maybe I could help with sanding.”

He turned to her. “And how do you sand?”

She frowned at him. How clueless did he think she was? “With sandpaper, of course.”

“No. What I mean is what motion do you use?”

Was this a trick question? She paused, trying to recall if her father ever told her anything about sanding. She couldn’t remember any instructions or sage words of advice.

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