A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber Page 0,23

him long enough to make the leap. Chantelle was exactly the right person for my brother. I couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t recognize it when I did.

“I want both of you to be bridesmaids,” Chantelle said. “My sister will be the maid of honor.”

“Bill and Ted will serve as ushers,” Lucas added.

I recognized the names of two friends Lucas had while serving in the Army. Both had remained in the military and had stayed in touch with our brother.

“Charlie has agreed to be my best man.”

Charlie was our cousin, the son of our mother’s sister.

“That’s wonderful.” The two were close in age and had been good friends nearly their entire lives.

“We’ve thought about this a lot and we’ve decided we want to be married in Oceanside.”

“Here?” This came as a huge surprise.

“We’re being practical,” Lucas explained. “It isn’t like this is the most romantic spot in the world. It’s cheaper. Do you have any clue what a wedding costs in Seattle? I’m not talking about a fancy venue, either.”

Both Harper and I shook our heads. Wedding costs weren’t exactly on our radar.

“We want to put our money into a down payment on a house instead of blowing it on a huge wedding.”

My brother had always been practical.

“I’m sewing my own dress,” Chantelle said. “The design is simple and elegant. I can’t wait to show you the pattern. I’ll sew your bridesmaid dresses as well. We don’t want you to put a lot of money into an outfit you’re only likely to wear once.”

I knew Chantelle was an accomplished seamstress and worked with a fashion designer. I couldn’t imagine her buying off the rack when anything she created herself would be stunning. “I couldn’t hope for any better bridesmaid dress.” It went without saying that our dresses would be beautiful as well.

Giving their wedding some thought, I realized I could help, too. “I’ll bake the wedding cake,” I offered.

The line went quiet.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“How many wedding cakes have you baked?” Lucas asked suspiciously.

“None…yet. I’ll practice and I promise I won’t let you down.”

“Thank you,” Chantelle said, and sounded sincerely pleased.

I knew her family had money and could afford a lavish cake. Seeing how much time I spent in the kitchen, baking for Bean There, I felt I could do a worthy job of it, given the opportunity.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, Willa.” Chantelle was gracious, even if my brother wasn’t.

“Have you talked to Chantelle’s father yet?” I asked, knowing my brother well enough to expect him to want his future in-laws’ approval.

Immediately, Chantelle burst into giggles.

“Stop laughing, it wasn’t funny,” Lucas warned.

“What happened?” I was smiling now, too, and eager to hear the story.

Chantelle answered for Lucas. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved Lucas more than I did the night he spoke to my father,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion. “My darling love was a nervous wreck.”

“I was a little on edge,” Lucas reluctantly admitted.

“A little? I thought you were going to vomit.”

Lucas snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Close.”

“Maybe,” Lucas concurred.

Glancing over at Harper, I saw that she’d covered her mouth to hold back her laughter. I had trouble containing my own. I could well imagine how nerve-racking this conversation must have been for my brother.

“So, what happened?” Harper plied.

Again, it was Chantelle who answered. “We stopped by the house and Lucas said he wanted to speak to my dad privately. Then the two of them disappeared into my dad’s home office. When he closed the door, Lucas gave me a look like he was walking toward the electric chair.”

“Very funny,” Lucas muttered in the background. “You and I both know your father has never been fond of me.”

“You’re imagining things,” Chantelle muttered.

“No, I’m not,” Lucas argued. “They had someone other than a longshoreman in mind for their beautiful daughter.”

“You’re exaggerating, Lucas.”

“Don’t think so, babe.”

“Well, anyway, it was very sweet,” Chantelle said, her voice soft and full of love. “Here was a man who’d faced the Taliban, IEDs, and fought for his country, who was shaking in his boots facing my father.”

“A divorce attorney, I’d like to remind you.”

“Daddy takes other clients, too,” Chantelle said.

“It must have gone well,” I said, seeing that they were now officially engaged.

“It did,” Chantelle hurried to tell us. “Thirty minutes later they came out of the room and my father said he had a few questions for me.”

“Right,” Lucas muttered. “He wanted to be sure Chantelle was convinced I would make a good husband, as if he was