Page 63 of Desperate Justice
“Stick to it. Sam and I will be out front. Keith and Debbie will hang out with your sister, just in case.” Though he didn’t want to display open affection to her, Rafe couldn’t resist cupping her chin in a tender caress. Damn, he worried about this woman.
“Stay alert, Ally. I’m counting on you.”
* * *
Allison couldn’t wait to get to the cabin and finally relax. Nerves taut like coiled wire, she led the way on her bike down the gravel path into the woods off a side road.
Secluded from the road, built next to a winding creek with a clearing in the back with a fire pit, the log cabin was nestled against a thicket of trees. Built on ten acres, mostly forest, it was secluded and private and had provided them many happy hours exploring the grounds and playing when they were growing up.
Diana roared past the run-down barn that had been patched up over the years, set back a distance from the cabin. Allison stopped her bike and climbed off to check the barn. Locked still. She peered through the grimy window, glad the sedan her parents bought a few years ago remained inside. Though the area was patrolled by police and they had a good security system at the barn and cabin, she’d always worried someone might break into the fragile structure and steal the car.
She climbed back on her bike and headed for the cabin.
Sunshine dappled the tall pines, oaks and maples. She parked her bike next to the oak tree bearing the initials of every married couple in their family who had spent happy times in these woods, from their parents, right up to the great-grandparents who built it years ago. Cousins, uncles, aunts—the oak stood as a living family tree of life.
Ally traced her parents’ initials. Soon the tree would boast another signature—Diana and Paul.
Long time before mine is on there. She sighed and glanced at the deck on the second story.
A long white box sat on the deck. Could only be one thing...
Squealing, her sister jumped off her bike, barely parking it, and dashed up the steps. Allison followed, jingling the front door keys.
They went inside with the box. The housekeeper, as promised, had not only cleaned, but switched on the air conditioning so the cabin smelled like lemons and clean air.
Not waiting, Diana placed the box on the dining table and opened it.
Her satin strapless gown lay inside. Atop it was the delicate lace veil that had belonged to their mother.
As Diana removed the veil, cooing over it, Allison’s breath hitched involuntarily.
Their mom had promised it to Allison whenever “you decide to settle down.”
It was their exclusive agreement, perhaps one of the few special considerations their mom had granted to Allison. But seeing that Diana was the first to marry, their mother asked Allison if Diana could wear it after Diana begged for the veil.
Though the lace was the original their mother had worn, Diana had embellished it with a sprig of silk orange blossoms and shortened it. Oh, she’d asked Allison first if she minded the alterations.
Still...
What was I supposed to say? Everyone knows I’ll never get married at this point. Hell, I’m not even dating anyone.
Still, it did hurt a little, seeing Diana try on the lacy veil in front of the mirror hanging over the fireplace. Removing her cell phone from her jeans pocket, she took a selfie and then did a short video clip.
“Look, everyone! Isn’t this a lovely antique veil? I’m wearing it for the wedding! It was my mom’s. I adore old lace,” Diana said, tilting her head for the video.
Feeling like an antique herself, Allison hung back, not wanting to get in the way. When Di finished the video, she smiled.
“You look divine.” Allison pushed down the hurt and the snake of jealousy threatening to strike.
“Ally, you need to go into town and get a nice dress. You’re still standing up for me, and I thought we could have the wedding here, at the cabin. Or maybe you can find us a place in town for a wedding and a reception, something that would accommodate about fifteen people.”
Allison blinked. “I thought you were eloping?”
“We are, but there’s us, Mom and Dad and your biker friends, and, oh, my friends may be flying up after to join us, and there’s a couple of friends Paul has at his furniture warehouse in North Carolina. Better make it accommodations for twenty, and a hall with catering for twenty-five, just in case.”
The little ceremony was suddenly turning into a production. Allison drew in a breath.
“How far is this furniture warehouse?”
