Page 8 of Save the Dance

The woman took going above and beyond to such a high level, Tara almost regretted turning her down, but she’d grabbed a bite in the dining car earlier. As for something to drink, she had a bottle of water in her purse. Her suitcase rolling along behind her, she waved goodbye to Georgia and stepped smartly toward the door. Outside, a light breeze brought another breath of salt-laden air. Low-growing plants with fragrant pink and white blossoms filled nearby flower beds. Their perfume scented the air while she lingered by her bags.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, a yellow cab pulled to the curb. Tara barely had a chance to gather her things before a gangly young man doffed his cap her way. “I’m Chuck. You the lady who called for a ride?” Given the decided lack of other passengers standing about, he didn’t wait for a reply but hefted her suitcase. In seconds, he’d lowered it gently into the trunk of the idling taxi and held the door open for her. “Where are we headed?” he asked as Tara slid onto the back seat.

“The Captain’s Cottage.” She braced herself for another round of questions, but Chuck merely shrugged and climbed in behind the wheel.

“Welcome to Heart’s Landing, America’s Top Wedding Destination. Are there any stops you’d like to make along the way?”

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you took your time. I want to take it all in.” Tara glanced out the window and frowned. How she was supposed to criticize tree-lined streets, buildings etched with hearts and flowers, and quaint houses that nearly bent beneath gingerbread trim, she didn’t know.

“This is your first trip to Heart’s Landing, then?” Pulling away from the train station, Chuck turned east onto Champagne Avenue. He gestured toward a two-story building where cedar siding had aged to a burnished silver. “That’s the Union Street Bed-and-Breakfast. You can’t go wrong staying there. Marybeth and Matt take real good care of their guests.”

Tara noted the pristine white picket fence and the bright blossoms that spilled from window boxes. She’d be hard-pressed to say anything negative about the exterior of the inviting building. If the interior was as well-maintained, she’d consider staying there on her next trip to Heart’s Landing. If there was another trip, she corrected. Once Weddings Today published her article, she doubted anyone in town would welcome her with open arms.

“Since this is your first visit here, I’ll give you the nickel tour. On the house.” Chuck leaned forward and shut off the meter. At the next intersection, he pointed to a statue in a pocket park. “That’s Captain Thaddeus Heart. He founded Heart’s Landing in the 1800s. There’s a plaque at the base of the statue that tells all about him. You should check it out if you have the time.” Pointing out other places of interest, he wove up and down city streets. Festive signs in front of buildings offered everything imaginable in the way of wedding supplies and services. At the end of the street, he turned onto Officiant Circle.

“Captain Thaddeus sailed the trade routes between here and Europe for a dozen years or more. Each summer, he’d return home in time for his wife’s birthday. The place where his ship put in is north of here, called Heart’s Cove.” He pointed to a bike path that followed the rocky coastline. “Makes a nice, scenic ride, if you’re inclined.”

Tara crossed her fingers and hoped there’d be time for a trip to the beach while she was in town. The only time she’d taken the train from Penn Station to Long Island, one glimpse of people sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the sand had been enough to send her back to the station without even dipping her toes into the water. Here, though, only a few umbrellas dotted the wide, empty beach, and birds, rather than people, darted among the waves.

A little farther down the road, Chuck headed north on Bridal Carriage Way. “This is the center of Heart’s Landing. Anywhere else, it’d probably be called Main Street. But we stick to a wedding theme.”

“I can see that.”

“As they say, when you got it, flaunt it. And we got weddings.”

Appreciating the humor, Tara smiled broadly into the rearview mirror while the driver rolled past restaurants and stores. Hand in hand, couples roamed the tree-shaded sidewalks, ducking in and out of shops with whimsical names like Something Old, Something New, I Do Cakes, and Forget Me Knot Flowers. Everywhere Tara looked, fresh paint glowed from the trim on red brick buildings. Bright awnings beckoned shoppers to linger at display windows. Asters, tiny pink roses, and milkweed dripped from window boxes. Steeplebush and day lilies sprang from strategically placed pots, brightening the streets with dashes of color. The town was every bit as picturesque as her research had indicated. In fact, it was better than she’d expected, and her lips tightened. Regina had been right. It’d be tough to find anything wrong with Heart’s Landing.

Despite a green light, Chuck idled at Procession. Tara caught the faint sound of jangling metal, which grew louder as a pair of high-stepping horses pulled into view. From his seat on the white carriage behind them, a driver in black livery doffed his hat. A bride decked out in her wedding finery smiled out from plush, red-velvet cushions. Chuck returned the gesture with a friendly wave.

“The driver’s Tom Denton. He’s a good friend. They’re headed to the church at the end of the block,” he explained. “From there, he’ll take the lucky couple to their reception, which might very well be at the Captain’s Cottage. We’ll head there now so we don’t end up photo bombing any of the wedding photos.”

With that, Chuck turned onto Procession. At the end of the long street sat the fabled Captain’s Cottage. Tara sucked in a breath. Impressive in pictures, the mansion looked absolutely gorgeous with the late-afternoon sun glinting off the pristine masonry. She struggled to take in the details, but there was so much to see, she didn’t know where to look first. Blooming azaleas in bright reds, pinks, and whites peppered the lawn and perfumed the air with a spicy scent. Clusters of weeping willows dripped gracefully over a stream. Neatly trimmed hedges followed the curving driveway to a porte cochere deep enough to accommodate several arriving vehicles.

Chuck braked to a stop at the foot of wide steps that led to massive double-doors. “This is the end of the ride. Your fare will pop up on the card reader. Cash or credit is fine. There are business cards in the seat pocket. Take a couple. I’d be happy to take you anywhere you need to go while you’re here.”

With a swipe of her credit card, she balanced the ridiculously small bill with a generous tip. By time she retrieved the receipt, Chuck had toted her luggage up the steps and left her bags inside the front door. He returned to offer a hand while she exited the vehicle. She smiled at him. “Thank you for a wonderful tour.” She tapped her purse. “I have your card. You’ll probably hear from me again soon.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.” And with that, he was off, heading for the main road and presumably his next fare.

Tara peered up at the three-story house that had once been home to a seafaring captain, his wife, and their twelve children. With its large, airy veranda and wings that spread out in different directions, the Cottage was certainly large enough to accommodate such a big family. Which was ironic, considering that an influenza outbreak in the 1890s had nearly wiped out the entire Heart clan. However, according to her research, a direct line of Thaddeus’s descendants had called the Captain’s Cottage their home for generations. Fifty years ago, things had changed when the captain’s great-grandson had capitalized on the town’s growing reputation and had turned the estate into one of the most popular wedding venues on the East Coast.

Her flats made soft, scuffing noises on the steps. Wishing she’d taken the time to change out of her travel clothes and into something a little more refined and appropriate for visiting such a lovely place, she stepped through the front door into the roomy foyer of a house that had known tender care for more than a century. She sniffed, inhaling a light, citrusy scent mixed with linseed oil. A larger-than-life portrait of Captain Thaddeus looked down on her from the wall across from the entrance. Though she’d seen the image in books, she took a moment to study the painting. From his feathered hat to his pointed shoes, he cut an impressive figure, but his face captured her attention. A pair of intelligent-looking eyes stared out from beneath thick brows. High cheekbones and skin lined by the sun and the wind surrounded a Grecian nose and finely drawn lips. Below, a square chin led to a jaw as well defined and straight-edged as the rest of him. The artist had posed the captain at the helm of his ship and had managed to capture him so much at ease that she could practically feel the salt spray or hear the wind whistling in the rigging and the cries of seabirds on the hunt for food.

The artwork was beyond intriguing. She could have stood there all day admiring it, but the rest of the house beckoned. Wide corridors stretched to the left and right. With an imaginary flip of a coin, she headed left. She hoped to ask directions to Jason Heart’s office, but no one lingered at the coffee pots that stood on an elaborate sideboard in the dining room. A little farther down the hall, two sets of wide double-doors opened into a spacious ballroom. Massive chandeliers dripped crystals like icicles over what must have been an acre of hardwood floors. She felt a ping of disappointment that preparations for a wedding weren’t underway, but the tall tables scattered throughout the room reminded her more of cocktail parties and casual gatherings. Leaving the ballroom, she moved forward, the soles of her shoes sounding loud in the empty corridor.

Where was everyone? Sure, no one was expecting her—she had, after all, followed Regina’s orders and arrived a full day early. But the entire Captain’s Cottage couldn’t be sitting empty on a Thursday afternoon. Could it?

She poked her head into several other vacant rooms before a sharp right turn took her to a corridor with doors opening onto offices. A tasteful sign mounted by the first one on the left announced that it belonged to Alicia Thorn, Event Coordinator. Pens neatly arranged in a holder, a single tablet of paper, and a computer monitor sat on the well-organized desk. On the wall, today’s date had been X’d out on a calendar that tracked weddings and appointments. Beginning to wonder if she’d need to call Chuck and have him drive her to a hotel after all, Tara moved on.

From somewhere nearby came the sound of someone humming. Drawn to the tune she recognized as a piece she’d sung with her church choir recently, she picked up her pace. Three offices down, she peered through an open doorway. Dressed in a simple T-shirt, her hair a mass of dark red curls around an elfin face, a woman about her own age stared at a computer with rapt attention.

Tara knocked on the doorframe.

The humming stopped abruptly. The woman leaned out from behind the oversized monitor. “Hey! I didn’t see you there. Are you looking for Alicia?”

Assuming she meant the event coordinator, Tara shook her head. “No. Actually, I was hoping you could tell me how to get to Jason Heart’s office.”

“Is he expecting you?” The woman frowned. “I didn’t think he had any appointments on his calendar this afternoon.”

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