How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

That sounded like his dad, all right.

“Dad finished his residency at Midland, too, but he didn’t want to stay, let alone work in the trauma unit. Some doctors don’t like the stress of never knowing what’s coming through those doors, how you always have to be at the top of your game, but I thrived on the adrenaline rush.

“Last winter there was a three-car pileup on the interstate. We were told to prepare for multiple injuries, some of them life threatening.” The night had become permanently etched in Ethan’s mind. “I wanted to show off my stuff to Dr. Langley and prove that I could handle the situation, but first I had to examine a guy who came into the ER. He had a high fever and complained of fatigue.

“He said he’d gone through cancer treatments two years ago, and I could tell he was worried it had returned. But I blew it off. Told him he probably had the flu and handed him over to a nurse as fast as I could . . . and then I forgot about him.”

“There were other people who needed you.” Mac waded into the silence.

Ethan’s lips twisted. “We had enough help that night. I made a decision based on my best interests. Five or six hours went by before I even remembered to ask about my patient—and I couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. Bed Two. That’s what I called him. The nurse told me he’d been admitted for further testing, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should check on him.

“It was four in the morning but he wasn’t asleep. He was sitting up in bed and he looked at me . . . and I could tell he’d been having a rough night. But you know what he did?” The memory roughened Ethan’s voice. “He asked how I was doing. That was supposed to be my line. We ended up talking until the sun came up, and before I left, he asked if he could pray with me.

“For the first time in ten years, I actually took a day off to get my head on straight. I’d worked so hard to be like my dad—to honor his memory—but I forgot what it was that made him a great doctor. He always saw the whole person, not just a symptom or a disease.”

Without closing his eyes, Ethan could see the waves on Lake Michigan reshaping the shoreline while something was at work on the inside, reshaping his priorities. “I asked God what I was supposed to do, and a few days later I got a call from Dr. Heath. I knew what I wanted to do—but I had to decide who I wanted to be.”

Mac was silent for so long, Ethan started to wonder if he shouldn’t have been quite that honest. But when he dared a glance at her, she wasn’t looking at him.

Mac’s gaze remained fixed on the water, her slim shoulders set in a tense line. When she finally spoke, her voice barely broke above a whisper. “The patient in Bed Two. Did you ever see him again?”

Ethan smiled. “He’s marrying my sister on Saturday.”





“How are you doing on my front-page story, Mac?”


“Great.” Mac closed her laptop so Grant wouldn’t see that the only thing on the screen was the cursor, blinking out a measured SOS that couldn’t quite keep up with the erratic beating of her heart.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have material for the second installment of the Channing-Blake wedding story. Mac had been trailing Hollis around Red Leaf for the past two days, checking things off the list. She took photographs of her and Connor sampling cupcakes at the bakery. Listened to Hollis and Amanda Greer, the owner of The Shy Violet, reminisce while she chose the flowers for her bridal bouquet.

It was the story behind the story that was giving Mac a serious case of writer’s block.

The pieces had started to fall into place the moment Ethan had told her about Connor. The short engagement. The private ceremony with only family and a few close friends.

Hollis had said, “I told him that I was afraid of the future too.”

Not afraid of commitment—afraid of the future.

Had Connor been reluctant to marry Hollis because he was afraid his cancer would return?

“Mac!” Grant snapped his fingers. “I need the story by two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Okay.” Mac knew the deadline.

But something was changing. The teenage Ethan of the charming smile and confident swagger, the Ethan who’d broken countless hearts and at least one promise, wasn’t the one Mac saw when she looked at him. Now she saw a man with a charming smile who wanted to make sure his little sister’s wedding day was everything she dreamed it would be.

A man who had chosen to return to his hometown to practice medicine because he hadn’t liked the person he was becoming.

The man she was falling for all over again.

Mac’s cell phone buzzed, letting her know she had a new text message from Hollis. She was almost afraid to look at it.

7 tonight. Don’t be late. List almost complete.

Whatever was happening at Channing House that evening, Mac wouldn’t be able to include it in this week’s issue of the newspaper.

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