Chasing a Brighter Blue, page 3
“I thought Mother wanted us to do a fitting.”
“She’s too distraught. She went back to her suite.”
Shelby shook her head. “She normally thrives off drama. What’s the deal?”
“She seems really stressed. Maybe the two-week celebration was a bit much,” Stephanie mused as she linked arms with her.
“You think?”
Stephanie nodded. “Again, it was not my idea. I wanted a Christmas wedding, that’s all. I didn’t want all this,” she said with a wave of her hand toward the nearly thirty-foot-tall tree that took up most of the lobby.
“I warned you it would be too much,” Josh said as he walked beside them.
“You know how Mother is. Everything has to be a production,” Stephanie said. “Oh, there he is. He’s so cute.”
Shelby followed her gaze, landing on a very handsome man who was smiling as he headed their way. He had just enough stubble of a beard to be fashionable, and he surprised her by pulling her into a hug.
He laughed as she pulled away. “You are Shelby, right?”
“I am.”
“And you are as beautiful as Josh said you were. I’ve got to be the luckiest man here,” he said, still smiling. “Doug Bryant. Pleased to meet you.”
Shelby returned his smile, albeit with not quite as much enthusiasm as he exhibited. “Nice to meet you too,” she said politely.
“Doug is a professor,” Stephanie explained. “University of Nebraska.”
“Really?”
“My alma mater so it’s extra special to be able to teach there,” Doug said.
Shelby looked at Josh. “You grew up together?”
“Yes. More like brothers than cousins. Same age, same grade in school,” he said.
“My family’s farm is right down the road from theirs,” Doug said.
“So you’re close with Reagan too?” she asked.
“Reagan? I didn’t expect her here,” he said to Josh. “I’m surprised she took time out from her career to make your wedding.”
“No, she wouldn’t miss it,” Josh said. “She’s a bridesmaid.”
Doug laughed out loud. “No way. Ray Ray? A bridesmaid? This I gotta see.”
Ray Ray? Childhood nickname, no doubt, Shelby thought. But from his tone, she assumed there was no love lost between Doug and Reagan. She wondered what the story was with them.
“Speaking of that,” Stephanie said. “Don’t you need to go find her?”
Oh, yeah. She was supposed to talk her into wearing a dress, wasn’t she? Well, at least it would give her an excuse to escape the over eager best man.
“Yes, I do need to find her.” She held her hand out to Doug. “It was nice to meet you.”
He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his mouth and kissed the back. She didn’t know why, but the stubble of is beard irritated her and she barely resisted wiping her hand where his lips had touched.
“I understand there’s a sleigh ride tonight out in the park,” he said. “As best man and maid of honor, it will be a privilege for me to share it with you.” He smiled into her eyes. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Shelby.”
Oh, God. Surely they’d told him she was gay. She forced a smile. “I’m looking forward to the sleigh ride too. Perhaps I’ll see you there.”
“Of course you’ll see me. I’ll save you a seat.”
She took Stephanie’s arm and pulled her to the side. “Excuse us one moment,” she said quickly to the guys. As soon as they were far enough away, she glared at her. “Really?”
“What?” Stephanie shrugged. “He likes you.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“You always say there’s no need to forewarn people when I introduce you.”
“Yes. People. Not men who think they’re going to spend the next two weeks trying to get into my bed,” she said as quietly as possible.
“Oh, he’ll figure it out,” Stephanie said with a wave of her hand. “But he’s so nice. Please don’t be rude to him.”
“I won’t be rude to him,” she said.
“Good. Now go find Reagan. Sweet-talk her if you have to.”
“I will not sweet-talk her,” she murmured as she walked off.
Chapter Four
Reagan shivered and shoved her hands more firmly into the pockets of her jeans. The bright sunshine belied the temperature, even if it was melting the snow. Or maybe she’d spent too many months in the desert. Before that, she’d been in the jungles of Colombia. No wonder she was cold. Of course, leaving the hotel without a jacket hadn’t been very smart.
Bridesmaid.
“Hell, no,” she murmured.
She turned her attention to her surroundings, feeling disoriented for a moment. She had no clue where she was. The sidewalk she’d been on had taken her here. A golf course. A frozen golf course, but still a golf course. She looked more closely at the patches of snow that hid the brown grass and frowned. It was littered with droppings of some kind. Deer? Elk?
She squatted down, studying it. Too large for deer. Must be elk. And a hell of a lot of them.
“They winter in town.”
She turned her head, surprised to find Shelby watching her. She stood back up. “You following me?”
“You weren’t hard to find. Stevie pointed me in the general direction of where you’d headed.”
“Stevie?”
“The doorman,” Shelby said.
“Stephanie sent you?”
“Yes. I’m supposed to convince you to wear a matching dress with heels and be a part of the wedding party,” Shelby said. “Will it work?”
“Save your breath,” she said as she started walking again.
Shelby fell into step beside her. “If I could, I would opt out too. Thirty is too old to be a bridesmaid.”
“Try thirty-two,” she said.
“Oh, and I met your cousin, Doug.”
Reagan glanced at her. “Dougie is here? Let me guess, he turned on the charm for you?”
“At our introduction, he hugged me,” Shelby said. “Then he kissed my hand.”
Reagan laughed. “Oh, that’s Dougie. He thinks he’s a ladies’ man.” She turned to look at her. “Did they not warn him ahead of time?”
“No, they did not.”
“Oh, this is going to be fun. He doesn’t take rejection well.”
“I got the feeling that there’s some animosity between you two.”
Reagan nodded. “Goes back to high school,” she said. “He caught me kissing Becky McFarlane—his girlfriend.”
“Oh, bad. Was she gay?”
Reagan shook her head. “No. Just fooling around. She put a stop to it when I got inside her panties,” Reagan said with a laugh. She hadn’t thought of that in a long time.
“I hate it when straight girls play games.”
“You have a story?”
Shelby nodded. “College. I thought I was in love. Turns out she was doing it on a dare.”
“Were you sleeping together?”
“Yes. I should have known she had never been with a woman before but I was…young and stupid,” she said bluntly.
They walked on in silence for a moment, going up a hill. Reagan grabbed Shelby’s arm, stopping her. “Look at that.”
Shelby smiled. “Yes. They’re all over town.”
The elk herd numbered maybe thirty or so. Most were lying down in the sun. Others were nibbling at the shrubs that lined the course. Out of habit, she reached to her side where her camera would be. Of course, there was no camera. She was afraid there would never be a camera again. Maybe that was a good sign, that she’d at least reached for it. It was the first time in the last month she’d even had an inkling to hold one in her hand again.
“What is it?”
Reagan shook her head. “Nothing.”
Shelby continued to stare at her. “I’m a good listener,” she offered.
“Do you think I need to talk?”
Shelby continued to stare at her. “Do you?” She finally looked away. “Look, I don’t pretend to know you or know what you’re thinking, but when I first saw you in the bar yesterday, I thought you looked so…so terribly sad.”
Reagan knew she wasn’t good at hiding it, knew her mother was worried about her. Hell, she was worried too. But she’d thought she was putting on a good enough façade to cover it up. To think that this stranger could see that in her frightened her. Maybe it was time to talk about it.
But not now. She was cold. They were in the middle of a frozen golf course surrounded by elk. And was Shelby Sutton really the best choice to bare her soul to? She was surprised when Shelby reached out a hand and squeezed her arm.
“Are you okay, Reagan?”
Reagan slowly shook her head. “No. I feel kinda…well, depressed seems way too dramatic. I’m just feeling kinda…blue, I guess.” She squared her shoulders. “But I have a handle on it,” she said, knowing she was lying.
“Well, if you ever want to talk…” Shelby offered again, then turned and left without another word.
Reagan blew out her breath, then shoved her hands inside her pockets. Instead of following Shelby back toward the hotel, she kept on walking up the hill. Images of that fateful day tried to worm their way into her mind, but she shut them out, like she’d been doing for the last month.
She’d always taken pride on being able to separate herself from the images her camera captured. She’d seen death many times over. She had been in Iraq and Afghanistan. She’d been to Syria and Bangui in Central Africa. She’d seen the drug wars in Colombia and Mexico. She’d captured pain on people’s faces. She’d captured the cruelty of torture and the anguish and distress of the tormented. She’d captured disease and famine. She’d captured it all, yet she’d remained detached. It’s what made her successful where others might have failed, and her images had appeared in countless magazines and newspapers.
Yet here she was, unable to pick up a camera. Unable to shoot even the most benign of images, such as beautiful Estes Park at Christmastime.
Because she’d captured one too many images. And it was that last shot that she could not get out of her mind, that last shot that kept coming to her over and over again.
Oh, she could say she’d shut it out. She could say she pushed the image away. But in her dreams, at night when she had no defense, the image came…over and over again.
She looked to the sky, then took off in a run, up the hill and behind the golf course. She didn’t stop until she came to a street where she nearly got run over by a car, the loud honking of its horn stopping her in her tracks. She put her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. After a few minutes, she straightened up again, still taking deep breaths. She thought she was in pretty good shape. Apparently she wasn’t adjusted to the altitude yet.
“Yeah, let’s use that excuse,” she murmured as she started walking again. She followed the street and ended up in the downtown area. In the light of day, it was still as pretty as it had been last night. Every shop was decorated on both sides of the road as far as she could see. She walked aimlessly, looking through windows at the various items offered for sale, most targeted to the mass of tourists that invaded the town.
Scattered between the shops were a few cafés and restaurants and she came upon the burger place they’d been to last night. She walked past it, then crossed the street to the other side and headed back toward the hotel. The walk had helped warm her and clear her head. She felt almost normal by the time Stevie held the door open for her. She nodded at him and headed for the bar.
The bartender from yesterday was there—Zach. He obviously remembered her.
“Scotch?”
She shook her head. “A little early for that. How about a beer?”
“Got Coors on draft,” he offered.
“That’ll do.” She pulled a bowl of peanuts closer to her. She’d skipped breakfast. The olives in her Bloody Mary didn’t count. Her stomach told her she’d also missed lunch.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I put it on the house tab.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So for the whole time I’m here for the wedding, my bar tab is being picked up by the Suttons?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s what Shelby said.”
She smiled at him. “Now that’s almost worth being in the wedding party for.”
Almost.
Chapter Five
“Mother, please,” Shelby said as she grabbed the bridge of her nose. “You can’t force her.”
“Well, can you imagine what everyone will say?”
Shelby looked over at Stephanie, who was lying on the sofa in their parents’ suite, one arm thrown across her face dramatically. “So ask Holly to be in the wedding instead.”
Stephanie rolled her head toward her. “Who?”
“Our cousin. Holly. We saw her yesterday,” she reminded her.
“Holly Durkin? Are you serious?” her mother asked. “How would that look?”
Shelby threw up her hands. “I don’t care. I’m through discussing it. Reagan in a tux or get someone else. That seems to be your choice.” She stood up and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Stephanie asked. “I need you here.”
“I can’t take all this drama,” she said. “This was supposed to be a two-week celebration, not two weeks of hell.”
“Shelby Lynn Sutton,” her mother said loudly. “This is your sister’s wedding.”
“I know, Mother. It’s all we’ve talked about for the last year. And it’s your thing and it’s her thing. It’s not my thing. So, I’m going to the bar. See you at dinner.”
She slammed the door on her mother’s protest and hurried to the elevator. Couldn’t have a Saturday wedding like normal people, no. Had to have two damn weeks of it. Who did that?
She wasn’t surprised to find Reagan in the bar. She wondered if she had a drinking problem. She smiled to herself as she sat down beside her. Of course, what did that say about her? It was two in the afternoon and she was craving a gin and tonic.
“You look stressed,” Reagan said.
“If you only knew,” she murmured. Zach came over immediately, eyebrows raised. She shook her head. Too early for gin. “I’ll have a beer too.”
“I hope it’s not still because of me and the bridesmaid thing,” Reagan said.
“Afraid so. The world is apparently going to come to an end.” She turned to her. “I suggested they replace you with our cousin, Holly. That didn’t go over too well.”
“Why not?”
“We’re not exactly close. My mother came from a normal, middle-class family. And she married into a very wealthy family. And, sadly, she enjoys reminding her sisters of that any chance she gets. For example, having a two-week wedding celebration and inviting them all to stay here for free during that time.”
“I see. And they all took her up on the offer?”
“Most are only coming next week, but I did see Holly yesterday.” She took a drink of her beer. “Maybe I could set her up with Doug.”
Reagan laughed. “No. I think it’ll be much more fun watching him try to get into your bed.”
“It is definitely turning into hell week,” she said.
“The two-week thing…that was your mother’s idea?”
“Yes. Stephanie simply wanted a Christmas wedding. It morphed into all this.” She took another drink of the cold beer. “I wanted a July wedding,” she added.
Reagan nodded. “And all the events that are planned? My invitation had something listed almost every day, I think.”
“My mother is…crazy,” she said with a smile. “And organized. Well, with the help of her staff.”
“And your father?”
“He was smart enough to fly back to Denver. He’s not coming back until the weekend,” she said. His excuse was a problem at the Aspen hotel needed his attention. She knew very well that the manager there could handle any “problem” that came up. And if he couldn’t, he would have called her and not her father.
“So you work for your father?”
“Yes.”
“What do you do?”
“My degree is in marketing,” she said. “I’m not certain what my father’s vision was as far as Stephanie and me going to work for him. I don’t think he thought we would actually do anything.”
“Look pretty and collect a nice paycheck?”
She laughed, not offended in the least. That was probably exactly what her father intended. “It took almost a year for me to earn his trust,” she said. “And it wasn’t until I threatened to quit and go get a real job that he started letting me get involved more.”
“And now?”
“Now, after eight years, I head up the marketing department, but I’m involved in a lot more than just marketing.” She smiled. “The department has all of four employees, counting me.”
“Is Stephanie one of them?”
Her smile faded a little. She loved her sister to death, but Stephanie was content to “look pretty and collect a nice paycheck” as Reagan had said.
“Yes, she is.”
Reagan laughed. “I take it she doesn’t have your drive?”
Shelby looked at her sharply.
“You’re very easy to read,” Reagan said. “And Josh mentioned once that Stephanie wanted to be an interior designer, so I imagine the marketing department isn’t her thing.”
She nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I keep telling Dad that we need to upgrade some of the suites in Aspen and let Stephanie design them. So far, he’s put it off.” She finished her beer and pushed it away. “She hasn’t quite earned his trust yet.” Perhaps not something she should share with Reagan, Josh’s sister, but it was the truth. And no, Stephanie did not have her drive. That comment she kept to herself.
Without being intrusive, Zach motioned to her empty glass. She shook her head. One beer was enough for her. Reagan, too, declined his offer.
“Earlier, when you asked if I wanted to talk,” Reagan said, surprising her with the change of subject. “Was that simply out of concern, or something more?”
