Page 17 of Fall Surprises
Chapter Five
Sam
Thursday morning brought crystalline skies and temperatures hovering just above freezing—October in Montana delivered. I'd been awake since five, running through my master checklist, triple-checking vendor arrival times and confirming delivery schedules.
By seven, I was in the garden with the florists, directing the placement of arrangements that transformed the gazebo into something from a fairy tale. Burgundy dahlias mixed with rust-colored roses, accented with those vibrant maple branches I'd collected from the orchard. Corn stalks tied with orange ribbon framed the aisle, and white pumpkins lined the path leading to the ceremony space.
"A little more to the left," I instructed, gesturing to the arch arrangement. "We want it centered in the camera frame from the house."
The lead florist nodded patiently. "You've got a good eye for this."
"Morning."
Gus's voice behind me sent heat spreading through my chest. I turned to find him approaching with two mugs of coffee and a plate balanced in one hand, steam rising in the cold air. He'd remembered how I took mine—cream, no sugar.
"You're a lifesaver," I said, accepting the mug gratefully.
"Figured you'd need it." Fine lines appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. "Thought you might want breakfast out here instead of inside."
He held out the plate—a mini quiche along with a side of fresh fruit, artfully arranged.
"You didn't have to do this."
"I know." He shrugged. "But the kitchen's about to get crazy with the catering crew arriving, and I thought you'd appreciate the quiet before the chaos starts."
The quiche was still warm, flaky crust giving way to a creamy filling with herbs and cheese. I closed my eyes, savoring it.
"Good?" he asked.
"Amazing, as always." I opened my eyes to find him watching me with an expression that caught my breath. "Thank you for thinking of me."
"Someone's got to keep you fed." He watched me take another bite. "Your vendors start arriving at nine, right?"
"Nine-thirty. Then the rental company at ten with the extra chairs and tables." I consulted my tablet, though I had the schedule memorized. "Linens at eleven, lighting crew at noon."
"And the wedding party at two."
My shoulders tensed just thinking about it. "This is going to be exhausting."
"We'll get through it."
I believed him.
The morning flew by in organized frenzy. Vendors arrived on schedule, each one requiring direction. I was everywhere at once—approving table arrangements in the dining room, checking the ceremony setup, confirming the bar inventory, reviewing the timeline with the DJ.
Through it all, I caught glimpses of Gus working parallel to me. Consulting with his kitchen assistants, tasting something and adjusting seasoning, his hands moving with that easyconfidence I'd come to recognize. Whenever our paths crossed, there was a moment—a shared look, his mouth quirking, his fingers brushing mine as he handed me water I hadn't realized I needed.
By one-thirty, everything was in place. The inn looked like something from a magazine spread—elegant autumn sophistication with just enough Halloween whimsy to be charming rather than tacky. Jack-o'-lanterns lined the porch steps, their carved faces friendly rather than frightening. Fairy lights had been strung through the trees, ready to twinkle once darkness fell. The dining room tables were set with burgundy linens and centerpieces of miniature pumpkins surrounded by votives.
I stood in the garden, doing one final walkthrough, when Rory appeared at my elbow.
"It's beautiful, Sam. Truly."
"You think so?" I twisted my hands together, seeing a thousand small imperfections no one else would notice.
"I know so." She squeezed my shoulder. "Now take a breath. You've done everything you can. Time to let the show begin."
At exactly two o'clock, as scheduled, I heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway. Multiple vehicles arriving at once.
