Molly Bull - Brides And Blessings

“How long have you been there?” Suzann asked.

He grinned, first at Suzann and then at Holly. “Not long. And it’s time to go, Sue. It’s a long drive, and our plane leaves in less than two hours.”

Holly didn’t move a muscle.

“He means you, Holly,” Suzann said. “You’re the only Sue in this room now.”

“I know he meant me. It’s just that—” Holly’s voice cracked with emotion “—after all these years, I’ve finally found my sister. I’m not ready to give her up yet”

“I’m not ready to give you up, either.”

Holly and Mike left a few minutes later. Suzann stood at the window until the rented limo disappeared behind a hill.

She gathered her things and locked the cabin. Then she settled behind the wheel of Holly’s compact car and flipped on the heater. At the fork in the gravel road, she turned onto a narrow, two-lane highway, speculating about what lay ahead.

She already missed Holly, and there was so much to do and so much to remember. Recalling everything Holly had told her about Oak Valley and her new life there might prove more difficult than memorizing a scene from a movie script.

Now what was the name of that good-looking assistant pastor who also served as the youth director at Holly’s church? Oh, yes, Josh Gallagher. Suzann smiled to herself. After hearing Holly rave about the man for two weeks, her curiosity level had reached an all-time high.

The highway snaked around rocky hills and over numerous low-water crossings. Holly had prepared her for huge trees, clear running water, and a hint of fall colors brightening the landscape. Yet the sheer beauty of a late-October morning in the Texas hills astounded her. If she didn’t know better, she would swear she was driving through the autumn countryside in Vermont or Connecticut.

Suzann had grown up in L.A. Holly had spent her growing-up years on a Texas ranch. Though their lives couldn’t have been more different, some similarities were astounding.

As children, both twins hated math, loved art and music, and were poor spellers. Both sucked their thumbs until they were four years old, got the chicken pox the Christmas they were six, had big orange tabby cats as pets and liked to keep things neat and tidy.

If that were not enough, Suzann and Holly put on identical blue sweat pants and matching tops on their second morning at the cabin without knowing what the other twin planned to wear that day. Suzann still couldn’t understand it all. However, Holly had suggested she read a book on twins who were separated at birth. Suzann resolved to buy a copy.

A white water tower in the distance told Suzann she would soon arrive in Oak Valley. Holly had said the town all but shuts down by noon on Saturdays. Suzann glanced at the hand-drawn map Holly had given her. A native Californian should be able to find Holly’s apartment with no problem at all.

The apartment on the second floor of a mom-andpop apartment house looked even smaller than Suzann expected. Still, a rush of excitement filled her as she opened the door for the first time.

Inside the doorway, her eyes widened, taking in the deep blue and off-white color scheme, and the quaint, antique furniture. Just what I would have chosen, she thought. And lace curtains. Perfect. She put down her suitcases. It seemed identical twins—even when separated at birth—were more alike than she had dreamed possible.

A document in a wooden frame hung over the bookcase. Suzann crossed the room for a closer look. Holly’s college diploma stared at her from behind clear glass.

Her twin sister had said she was a university graduate. Now Suzann also knew that Holly graduated from Baylor with a degree in English and library science. Very impressive.

Suzann always dreamed of going to college. But how could she? As the main breadwinner in her tiny family, it was a wonder she managed to graduate from high school.

Oh, she’d taken courses in drama at an exclusive school in New York City, but that didn’t count. Her studio paid for the courses, and she was pressured to take them.

Pressured should have been her middle name. Growing up, adults manipulated her constantly. Was it surprising that now, as an adult, Suzann had a problem making decisions?

Suddenly tired, she sat down and leaned back, gripping the maple arms of an aged rocker. The wood felt good under her hands, strong, like solid families. She’d never experienced that kind of closeness. She’d merely simulated that emotion when the movie script called for it.

Oh, her mother had loved her, all right, and was always just and kind. Yet for whatever reason, her adoptive mother, Nancy Condry, was distant—seldom kissing or hugging Suzann. As an adult, she still struggled to fully understand.

Her adoptive father died in a car accident less than two years after Suzann was born, and her mother had needed a means of support for herself and her baby daughter. It couldn’t have been easy, rearing a child alone.

Nancy Condry stumbled into the world of baby modeling and child acting by accident. One of the few choices for a poorly educated, single mom living in California twenty years ago.

Suzann’s birth parents were an even bigger mystery, and Holly hadn’t been much help. However, Suzann would soon know the truth. Private detective Roger Bairn had promised to locate her birth parents and reveal all the secrets of her past.

She eyed a photo album on the lamp table beside her chair. Her sister had thought of everything. Suzann ran her hand across the smooth, leather cover, then opened to page one.

Her mirror image in pigtails, and wearing a blue-and-white gingham dress, grinned back at her. Holly was probably about ten years old and stood between her two younger brothers. Their parents smiled proudly behind them.

Now there was a real family. Suzann imagined two little girls in the picture instead of one. The fantasy warmed her.

A mental list of all the chores she’d proposed to do that morning interrupted her musings. I should unpack, she thought. Reluctantly, she closed the album, promising herself that she would return to it later that day.

She would be wearing Holly’s clothes. The only items she needed to put away were her personal belongings.

Then she planned to trek the six-and-a-half blocks to Oak Valley Bible Church. Walking instead of driving would give her the opportunity to see Oak Valley, firsthand. The exercise wouldn’t hurt, either. She recalled that Holly had said nobody but the janitor would be at the church on Saturday morning. She could explore the building without being disturbed.

The name Josh Gallagher flashed through her brain again. If her interest in men was as similar to Holly’s as her taste in home furnishings, she would find him appealing.

Rule number one. Josh Gallagher is strictly off-limits. If this crazy idea of Holly’s was going to work, she must constantly remind herself of that important guideline.

Suzann coughed and sneezed her way to the hallway leading to the church library. She would take a quick look inside, then turn around and go back to the apartment.

Just outside the door, another coughing spell paralyzed her temporarily. Her throat still hurt. She coughed again. This was not the time to come down with a cold.

She took a sip of water from the fountain nearby, then another. As she reached out to open the door, she thought she heard someone coming.

Suzann froze. She’d found empty buildings unnerving since she was a child. She pulled her hand back from the door-knob and slipped her key ring back in her purse.

The janitor—yes, that’s who it is, she thought. Now, what did Holly call him? Oh, yes, Turner. Albert Turner.

Whirling around, her mouth formed the letter M for Mister Turner. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a white, western-style shirt, jeans and brown cowboy boots came around the corner. Could this cowboy be the church janitor?