How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

John blew out a breath. “What do we need to do for the bruise?”


He took charge, just as he had when they’d first responded to Verna’s call. When Hope had seen her aunt sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, laundry scattered everywhere, John had been the one to spring into action. After a quick assessment, he’d made the decision to call Verna’s local physician instead of taking her to the emergency room in Boise.

Hope had no doubt they’d still be sitting in some overcrowded ER waiting for Verna to be seen. Dr. Webster’s son Eli had arrived minutes after the call, black bag in hand. They’d gone to high school with him. Currently in the process of finishing his residency, he told them he planned to return to Harmony next summer to join his father’s practice.

“Apply ice to the front and back of the shoulder for ten minutes. Remove it for thirty minutes, then put it back on for ten,” Eli told them. “That will help with the swelling in the first twenty-four hours. Keep the injured shoulder elevated above the heart, including when she’s sleeping.”

“What about pain?” Hope asked.

“Pain? What pain?” Eli’s lips twitched, making him look like the mischievous young boy he’d once been. “She looks pretty doggone happy to me.”

Hope felt her cheeks warm. “After we’d gotten her comfortable and John pulled out his phone to call you, she asked for her purse and a glass of water. I thought she was taking a couple of Advil. Before I could stop her, she’d swallowed one of those narcotic tablets her dentist had given her after her oral surgery last week.”

“I believe that level of pain management is a bit excessive.” Eli grinned. “Tylenol or Advil every four hours should be more than adequate for the injury she sustained.”

John extended his hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“My dad will be sorry he missed tending to Verna. She’s a favorite.”

“Where is he?” Hope asked.

Eli had mentioned earlier that his father was out of town and he was covering for him.

“He and my mother are on a cruise. I’m filling in until they return on Saturday.” Eli’s gaze shifted between her and John. “Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any concerns.”

Hope threw her arms around him in a heartfelt hug. “Thank you.”

“It was good to see you again.” Eli’s gaze encompassed the two of them. “Once things settle down, let’s set a time to meet up at the Thirsty Buffalo. It’ll give us an opportunity to catch up.”

“I’d like that,” John said.

Hope let a simple smile be her answer.

Minutes later, she and John stood in the open doorway, shoulder-to-shoulder, silently watching the taillights of Eli’s Prius disappear from view. Before John even shut the door, tension rushed in like a tsunami, adding a stifling weight to the air. Hope could only hope John would set aside their personal issues for now so they could focus on Verna.

She got her wish. Without speaking, John followed her up the stairs. Verna looked old, frail, and as white as the sheets of her canopied bed. Still, her eyes flashed open when they entered the room.

The rueful smile that touched her aunt’s lips was like a balm to Hope’s frightened spirit. She quickly moved to the bedside and clasped Verna’s hand. “You gave us quite a scare.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I was trying to get all the laundry put away before I got ready for the Chamber of Commerce ceremony at seven.” Verna’s forehead puckered into a frown. “What time is it anyway?”

Hope glanced at the old-fashioned bedside clock. “Six thirty.”

“One of you has to attend the meeting.” Verna’s voice held an edge of panic. “Harmony Creek is getting the Horizon award. Someone has to be there to accept.”

“Don’t worry about that now.” John reached over and calmly repositioned the ice bag.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Hope said softly.

Verna’s desperate gaze swung to John and she struggled to sit up. Despite the narcotic’s influence, she was becoming agitated.

“I’ll go.” John answered the question in her eyes, stroking her arm in a soothing gesture. “If it means that much to you, I’m happy to attend.”

“Thank you. You’re a good boy.” Verna collapsed back into the pillow. Though her pale blue eyes remained half open, they slowly lost focus and turned cloudy.

“Rest.” John brushed back a strand of hair from her face, then kissed her wrinkled cheek. “I’ll be back soon with the award in hand.”

“My Tommy,” Verna murmured. “He was so like you.”

It was high praise indeed. Verna rarely spoke of the fiancé who’d gone off to war and had never come back.

“I loved him so much.” Her aunt’s fingers tightened around Hope’s hand as her voice broke. “We didn’t get a second chance. Vietnam didn’t give second chances.”

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