I held up the dress. ‘Your family have been more than welcoming. I need to talk to Gabe, though. He doesn’t want anyone knowing who I am.’ I hesitated. ‘And whoever ripped the sleeve might make it difficult. It’s not their only attempt to scare me off.’
Richard made a dismissive grunt. ‘Once that girl knows Pip’s made his choice, she’ll soon move on. Too much pride to compete with a done deal.’
I sat back, slightly gobsmacked at where a conversation with Richard had ended up. ‘I could postpone my flight home for a while, at least.’
Um, what? Was I really thinking about ditching everything I’d ever known for an island I’d never even seen a week ago?
Who was I kidding? Deep down, beneath the sensible, reliable Emmaline Brown, I’d been thinking about this since Pip Hawkins first came to my rescue, almost two years ago.
‘I’ll let you get changed.’ Richard pulled himself up using his cane and started limping to the door.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For the dress, and the advice.’
He looked down at his rumpled trouser leg. ‘Reckon I owe you one. Seeing as it was my damn leg wrecked your mother’s marriage.’
29
Ten minutes later, dress on, hair brushed and Blessing’s make-up lesson put into practice, having brought a few basics with me, I took a shaky breath and gingerly slipped out of the bathroom through the empty kitchen and outside.
I held out little hope that Pip would have identified the cake-wrecker. After my conversation with Richard, Celine was the only name on the list of people out to get me. There was no way she’d have owned up to ruining Iris’s wedding cake. But I did have faith in him steering any suspicion away from me.
‘Emmie!’
My heart sank as Iris called from the entrance to the barn. It was approaching five-thirty, and the air was warm and bright, with only the faintest hint of the evening crispness to come. Bolstered by her grin, I walked over, only to be yanked into a huge hug as soon as I reached arm’s length.
‘I’ve not had a chance to talk to you all day. You look lovely, by the way,’ she said, pressing her face against my cheek.
‘Well, you look stunning.’
‘I know! It’s probably not the done thing to admit it, but I scrubbed up okay, didn’t I?’ She laughed, finally letting mego. Her dress was what Blessing would call ‘boho’, a simple mermaid style but with flared sleeves and lots of soft lace. Her long hair was completely loose, and when she stepped away from me, I spotted white trainers.
‘Anyway, thank you for all your hard graft. The food was perfect. Everyone wants to know how we can persuade you to stay and open up a kiosk here.’ Her eyes danced as she nodded to the far side of the barn doors. ‘I did suggest that my brother might be the one to talk to about that.’
‘Oh?’ I was past being coy. If nothing happened with Pip this evening then it would make my decision about whether I got on a flight tomorrow that much harder. I didn’t have to base my decision on how he felt, but if he wasn’t interested in being more than friends then staying here would be torture. I’d risk becoming another Celine. Speaking of which, now the initial shock of the dress and the cake had worn off, I felt a spark of righteous Brown anger. Hating me was one thing, but taking it out on her friend’s cake and Aster’s dress was despicable. As soon as the wedding was over, I would tell Pip everything. He’d know best how to handle it.
‘Come off it, it’s clear as day he’s sweet on you. I can’t believe he’s not made a move yet.’ Iris put her hand on my arm. ‘Unless he has, and you turned him down.’ She gasped. ‘Oh, please tell me you didn’t. He’s a really decent guy. Soppy as anything too.’
As much as I’d been getting used to the islanders’ custom of spreading their thoughts out like a buffet, I had no idea how to answer that. To make things worse, Pip wandered through the barn entrance.
‘Hey.’ Seeing his smile felt like sinking into a warm bath. ‘You look… I mean… Wow.’
He shook his head, gripping his neck as his cheeks flushed.
Oh, boy. This man actually might like me.
‘Thank you.’
We stood there grinning dopily. If my brain had been able to process a coherent thought, it would have been imagining my life as a farmer’s wife – baking at the huge table, picking pears in the orchard, showing my children a newborn calf…
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, kiss her already!’ Iris cried. ‘She’s flying home tomorrow.’
Pip jerked back, his expression transforming into one of embarrassed shock.
‘Er…’ He glanced at his sister, then back at me. ‘I mean… is that? Do you…?’
‘Um, probably not here…’ I waved vaguely at the guests, at least half of whom were now gawking at us, thanks to Iris.
‘Yeah. Of course.’ Pip ducked his head, spotting the onlookers. ‘We could go for a walk or something?’
