Dream Eyes

Forty-eight

The day of the wedding had been made-to-order for an outdoor ceremony. Legacy Island was bathed in the warm glow of a summer light that was unique to the San Juans. But it seemed to Gwen that the Coppersmith family compound at Copper Beach was illuminated with a little extra energy.

The sun flashed on the surface of the sea. The air was so crystalline that the small, neighboring islands appeared to be within touching distance. And as if hired by the wedding planner to make the picture-postcard scene perfect, a pod of majestic orcas cavorted offshore. They danced in and out of the water as though their sleek, black-and-white, multi-ton bodies were weightless.

“You look beautiful,” Gwen whispered to Abby.

They were in a small alcove of the old mansion that Abby and Sam now called home. Gwen was making final adjustments to the elegant folds of Abby’s satin and lace gown. Through the open French doors they could see that the rows of linen-draped folding chairs on the groom’s side of the aisle were filled.

In addition to the Coppersmith family and friends, all of the local residents of the island had been invited to the ceremony and the reception. Judging by the throng, Gwen was sure that everyone on Legacy had accepted the invitation.

But the bride’s side was not empty. True, Girard, the wedding planner, had discreetly packed that side by ensuring that many of the locals were seated there. But Abby’s stepbrother and her half sisters had shown up. Her father and stepmother had sent regrets, but given that they were currently locked in the midst of a nasty divorce, that had not come as a surprise to anyone, least of all Abby.

Gwen knew that Abby had been genuinely touched when a handful of her reclusive rare book clients arrived. Grady Hastings, a young man who had been involved in the case that had brought Abby and Sam together, was also present.

“Why am I nervous?” Abby asked. “I shouldn’t be nervous.”

“Brides are always nervous,” Gwen said.

“How would you know that? You’ve never been a bride. Wait until it’s your turn. We’ll see who’s nervous.”

Nick appeared at the entrance to the alcove where Abby and Gwen waited. He always looked good, Gwen thought. But he was especially dashing and sophisticated in his new, elegantly cut tux.

He smiled at Abby and Gwen. In a rare show of emotion, moisture glinted in his eyes.

“I have the most beautiful sisters in the world,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically husky.

“And we have the most handsome brother on the planet,” Gwen said.

“I’m happy for you, Abby,” Nick said. “You’re getting a real family.”

“I’ve already got a real family—you and Gwen are as real as it gets,” Abby said. “I couldn’t ask for a better family. I’m just adding on a husband and a few new relatives today.”

“Things will be different now, though,” Nick said.

“No, they won’t.” Abby stepped forward and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Nothing will ever change what the three of us have.”

“We will always be family,” Gwen said. She kissed Nick’s other cheek and stood back.

“Okay, then.” Nick looked satisfied. He blinked away the sheen of tears and offered his arm to Abby. “Let’s do this. I think Sam is getting nervous.”

“Nothing makes Sam nervous,” Abby said.

“Trust me, the possibility that you might run off and leave him standing at the altar is more than enough to scare the living daylights out of him,” Nick said. “Speaking personally, I sort of enjoy that look of incipient panic in his eyes.”

Gwen smiled. “But it’s not going to last long because Abby is not going to leave him at the altar.”

“No.” Abby wrapped one white-gloved hand around Nick’s arm. “Never.”

The musical cue sounded.

“Here we go,” Gwen said. She gave Abby one last sisterly kiss, careful not to spoil the bride’s makeup, and picked up the basket of flowers.

Sam was waiting at the altar but he was not alone. His best man, Judson, was there, as well.

Judson never took his eyes off her as she walked slowly and serenely down the aisle to take up her place as maid of honor. She smiled at him from beneath the brim of her flower-and-bow-trimmed hat. The heat of love burned in his eyes.

SOMETIME LATER, GWEN stood just inside one of the large, white tents that had been set up for the reception and watched the bridal couple finish the first waltz.

“Got to hand it to Girard.” Nick swirled champagne in his glass. “He pulled the whole thing off without a hitch.”

“If you ask me, that man should be commanding troops,” Judson said. “The military missed out when Girard decided to go into the wedding planner business.”

“He did command troops for a while,” Nick said. “Girard was in the Marines for ten years.”

Judson smiled appreciatively. “I believe it. Not everyone can get away with telling a bunch of Coppersmiths and the entire population of Legacy Island what to do and how to do it. Between you and me, is Girard his real name?”

“Can’t tell you that,” Nick said. He sipped his champagne and lowered the glass. “I was sworn to secrecy on the subject. Now, if you want to discuss his tats—”

“No,” Judson said. “I don’t.”

“Pity,” Nick said. “Real works of art.”

“I think it’s time to change the focus of this conversation,” Gwen said firmly. “Tats and names aside, Girard produced an absolutely gorgeous wedding. Of course, it helps that Abby and Sam are so perfect for each other. Look at the way they’re gazing into each other’s eyes. You can feel the good energy from here.”

The waltz came to a slow, elegant stop. The crowd cheered when Sam kissed Abby. Then, abruptly, the musicians changed tempo, the signal that everyone was invited to dance.

Nick put down his wineglass with grave deliberation. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ask Girard to dance. He’ll probably give me some static because he’s very conscious of his responsibilities and position as the planner.”

“Tell him I said that at a Coppersmith wedding, everyone dances,” Judson said, “including the wedding planner.”

Nick flashed a brilliant smile. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

He glided away through the crowd.

Judson took Gwen’s hand.

“Dance with me, Dream Eyes?” he asked.

“Certainly.” She let him lead her out onto the crowded floor. “I’ll even promise not to crash your dreams while we dance.”

He pulled her into his arms. “You’re welcome in my dreams anytime.” He tightened his arms around her. “I love you, Dream Eyes.”

“I love you, Judson.”

The Phoenix stone on Judson’s hand burned with the heat of summer light and the fire of love.