Page 51 of Courageous Demands

“Let’s keep this between ourselves for a bit, start making plans, and then unveil our surprise… with a veil.”

“I love it,” she chuckled happily.

“I love you,” he breathed, kissing her again.

12

* * *

ALEC

Several months later…

Alec looked up, tugging his baseball cap low on his head, as he darted into the seamstress’s house. Mrs. Mulligan worked out of the converted garage at her home – and Willow’s choice to make their bridesmaids dresses, fit her dress, and make any alterations. Since there was no one in town who owned a wedding shop, they had opted to order her gown online. He and his groomsmen were going to wear their formal uniforms, but he also wanted to surprise her.

He was carrying a tote bag with the ‘goods’ to enact his plan – and hoped it didn’t backfire. Keeping surprises from Willow wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he also knew that if she was in on it… then people might have the opposite reaction.

Nope. He wanted to support her, make this memorable, and surprise her – all at the same time. Peering around the corner, he saw Mrs. Mulligan hanging up a formal bag on a hook, looking over her shoulder.

“Hey, Mrs. Mulligan,” he began in greeting. “Is Willow gone?”

“She left twenty minutes ago,” the old woman said, smiling. “She has no clue that you were coming over.”

“Thank you – and I really appreciate the help.”

“Of course. Your parents were always so sweet to me after my husband died – and then when your papa passed away, well… life is short, and you draw enjoyment where you can. For me, it’s my stitching. I love creating something beautiful and making memories.”

“That’s the goal,” he joked, smiling openly. “It’s not gonna be pretty, but it will be memorable.”

“You are a rascal, young man… you know that?”

“I hear that a lot,” he teased and began withdrawing the packages from his tote bag. “Here’s what I have, and I labeled each one…”

“My, my, my…” she began, clucking her tongue – and then smiled at him. “Definitely your father’s son, because Brian would have done the same thing.”

“Thank you – and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

“Just save me a seat on the aisle so I can see everything.”

“You got it,” Alec grinned.

Now, it was time to put the second part of his plan into action.

* * *

Alec smiled at Willow as he walked toward her in the distance. She was surprisingly calm despite their wedding being a week away. Oh yes, there were a few last things to put in order, but most everything was done by now, and if it weren’t… it soon would be.

His mother was on cloud nine, preparing enough dough to feed an army. There were boxes and boxes of candy being delivered to the church, along with haybales, bolts of black and orange raffia, massive stalks of corn and sheaves of dried grasses tied together to make pillars flanking the steps to the church. In fact, tonight, they were scheduled to pick up almost two hundred baby pumpkins as well as another one hundred large pumpkins from a local farmer to help decorate the church.

The last few months had been full of planning, sneaking around, dropping hints here and there amidst a carefully canned ‘slip’ that they gave to several others to help spread the word.

‘Trunk-or-Treat is going to be very sweet this year at the church harvest festival… you can’t miss it.’

Alec chuckled as he remembered the way his mother’s face lit up with awareness – and she nearly throttled him.

“Why didn’t you tell me, you sneaky boy!” his mother had yelped excitedly, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and shaking him – only to hug him happily… and she did the same to Willow. “You two cannot be keeping secrets like this!”

“We’ve got a surprise – and if we tell you, then it’s not a surprise,” Willow had laughed, hugging his mother happily as she showed off her engagement ring. Alec had bought her a lovely yellow topaz ring surrounded by more orange stones. The wedding band he’d selected for her was an infinity ring of diamonds – and his own had been a simple one with three diamonds to represent everything they’d been through.

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