“God, bite your tongue,” she said quickly. “Have the guys set the tables back in their spots. With any luck, the wind’s gone for good. We should be able to have most of this put back together before morning.”
“On it,” he answered and stalked off, shouting orders at a few of the men.
After that, Ivy just worked. She kept her head down and her mind blank as she busily set about fixing what Mother Nature had wrecked. As Dan had pointed out, it could have been worse, she consoled herself. If that wind had been accompanied by a summer storm, the meadow would be a sea of mud and they’d have had to come up with an alternate wedding site fast. As it was, this could be fixed and the bride and groom would never know anything had gone wrong.
Running across the meadow to join Carol in reattaching the bows to the arch, Ivy caught movement out of the corner of her eye. When she took a better look, she recognized Tanner, striding up the lane connecting the farm to the meadow. He stopped dead, met her gaze for a heart-stopping moment, then moved off without a word to join the men gathering up the fallen tables and chairs.
She took a deep breath as she watched him pitch in and help. She wondered what he was doing there, but couldn’t afford the time to stop and ask him. A part of her wanted to believe that Tanner’s being there might mean more than just a neighborly act. After all, when had he ever been neighborly? But at the same time, she remembered the distant expression on his face as they’d stared at each other, and she realized that whatever his reasons for being there—nothing between them had changed.
“What is it?” Carol asked, handing Ivy a length of white satin ribbon.
Her gaze fixed on Tanner until he was lost in the crowd of men working under the moonlight. Then she turned to her friend and forced a smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Let’s get this done, Carol.”
Two hours later, Ivy was exhausted, but the crisis had been averted. Under the pale moon, the meadow lay lovely and perfect, as if it had never been disturbed. All was ready for the big event in the morning.
The dozen or so people who had worked so hard stood in a circle congratulating each other on a job well-done. They lifted cans of cold soda provided by Ivy in a toast to their efforts and laughed together over the night’s activities. Tanner was on the periphery of the group and his gaze was locked on her.
His expression still unreadable to her, she watched as he took a long drink of the soda and then laughed at something one of the men said to him. If things were different, she thought sadly, she would walk up to Tanner and give him a big kiss as a thank you for all of his work tonight.
Instead, she was forced to remain quiet and still, uncomfortable under his steady regard. When Dan spoke up, she was pathetically grateful for the interruption.
“Did you guys see King there, climbing that tree to get the umbrella down?”
“Hell yes,” someone else said with a hoot of laughter. “Don’t know how the damn thing got that high, but King scrambled up that old oak like a monkey.”
Tanner smiled at the men and said, “Couldn’t have been as funny as Tony falling off the bridge into the creek.”
“Too true,” Dan agreed.
Tony D’Amico grinned, despite his soaking wet clothes. “I thought I could lean far enough over the bridge to snag that damned thing. Turns out I couldn’t.”
“You were all great,” Ivy said, speaking to them all, though her gaze fixed on Tanner alone. “I really appreciate everything you did, so I’d like to propose a toast.”
Everyone lifted their cans of soda and waited. Tanner’s gaze burned into hers and Ivy felt a rush of something hot and wicked pouring through her. Still, her voice was even and steady as she said, “To Angel Christmas Tree Farm and Cabot Valley. May this wedding be the boon we all need. And may we all remember tonight and what we accomplished…together.”
“Together,” everyone repeated and took a sip.
Tanner waited until the rest of them had drunk their toast before he lifted the canned drink in his hand toward her. Together, he thought solemnly. Tonight, he’d been a part of something. He’d belonged in a way he never had before. He’d worked with a group of people he never would have met if it hadn’t been for Ivy and he’d helped them accomplish a task important to all of them.
It was an odd feeling for him.
And now it was over.
With his gaze locked on Ivy’s, Tanner took a slow sip of the too sweet soda, then deliberately turned away. He couldn’t look at her, awash in moonlight, without wanting to hold her, lose himself in her. But that time had passed. Now that the situation was resolved, there was no place for him here.
Still holding the can of soda, he walked down the dirt path that led to the front of the farm and the road to home.
The wedding was a huge success.
Not only for Angel Christmas Tree Farm, but for the town. The catering, flowers and decorations had all been wonderful. The guests who had driven out from San Francisco for the wedding had enjoyed themselves immensely and the bride and groom couldn’t have been happier.
Still reeling from the number of people who had asked for her business cards at the event, Ivy sighed. Business would soon be booming, she knew. As soon as the article about the wedding hit the city newspapers, she knew Cabot Valley would experience the kind of success they’d all been dreaming of.
So why wasn’t she happier?
She’d done it. Made a name for herself as an event destination. Salvaged disaster and created perfection. She’d seen to it that her hometown succeeded as well as she had and her plans for the future were brighter than ever before.
She should be blissful.
But then, how could she be really happy without the man she loved?
Without even the hope that they might one day straighten everything out? Yes, he’d come to her rescue and worked alongside her and her friends the night before the wedding, but since that night, she hadn’t seen him. Not even a peek. Oh, she didn’t expect to run into him in the early morning when she went to his house to take Hairy for a walk. After all, she went in the morning because she knew he’d be sleeping. But couldn’t he have come by the farm again? Couldn’t he have said something to her before he left that night?
“But then, what’s left to say?” she asked herself glumly as she walked into the Cabot Valley bank. Her steps echoed on the polished linoleum and she sighed a little as she noted at least five people in line for one open teller. No quick trip for her this time.