The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers

Liam knew the answer to his next question before he even asked it. “Why doesn’t she pay the bills out of the foundation’s funds? Doesn’t she get donations?”

“Oh, she does. Some. But that’s where you come in, Liam. I don’t know the true answer except to say when bills come due, there is often no money.” Martin shook his head. “She’s a wonderful girl, don’t get me wrong, but she doesn’t have a head for numbers and accounting.”

And Liam had no desire to get himself in the middle of what was obviously a Foster problem. “Excuse me for saying so, Dr. Foster, but this seems like a family matter to me. Have you tried talking to your daughter?”

Martin sighed. “You don’t know how difficult that is for me. You see, Jude lost her husband over five years ago. He was killed in the Middle East fighting for his country. Since then, she’s been kind of like a lost soul, always running from one needy cause to another. Besides her son—and she’s a good mother—all those good works have become her life. It’s not easy for me to get in the middle of all that suffering and try to change things.”

“That’s tough, I’ll agree,” Liam said. “But I still don’t see what I can do. What makes you think she’ll listen to my financial advice if she doesn’t listen to yours?”

“I’m trying to tell you...I haven’t given her any!”

“Maybe if you sat her down...”

“I don’t have the heart, Liam. She’s my baby. I love her. Oh, I’ve made a few suggestions, tried to guide her, but things don’t seem to improve, and I don’t want to drive a wedge between Jude and me. That wouldn’t help either one of us. I believe there’s a lot of hurt inside her, and I’m her father, the one who’s supposed to help her, encourage her.”

“With due respect, sir, I’m not sure I can help her. I don’t even know your daughter.”

“That’s true right now, but I’m hoping you’ll introduce yourself into her life and you, as an outside party, can show her how to manage her money better, or at least cut back on the spending. After all, son, you’re the expert, and even Jude can’t argue with an expert.”

“Well...”

Not letting Liam finish, Martin said, “Your father can’t brag enough about you. You can be a voice of reason for Jude. You don’t have the problem of emotion to deal with. Once you’ve gained Jude’s trust, I believe she’d listen to you.”

“I don’t know how true that is, Dr. Foster. My clients come to me willingly. I don’t seek them out to try and get them to listen to reason as you’re suggesting. And anyway, I have a full-time job with a financial planning firm in Cleveland. I can’t take time away from my regular clients to counsel your daughter, especially when you’ve hinted that she’s not the type to be counseled.”

“You don’t have to give up your clients, Liam. Just come out here on weekends and maybe once or twice during the week. Show an interest in what she’s doing, get her to trust you and—”

“While I secretly examine her books?” Liam said. “That’s dishonest, Dr. Foster. If not downright impossible.”

“Not if you show interest in what she’s doing. Don’t you first try to gain the trust of anyone you educate about money? Isn’t that the first step?”

“Well, yes...”

“Then this is no different. Besides, once you two meet, once the groundwork is set, I intend to tell her why I’ve brought you in. But it wouldn’t do for me to divulge that until she trusts you. Jude is a trusting girl. She just doesn’t like to be pushed around. I think she’ll like you right off.”

Liam didn’t have any reason to believe that.

“Think of me as another client, Liam,” Martin said. “I’ll pay you whatever your hourly rate is.” Dr. Foster held up his index finger. “Just don’t bully her, son. She may be trusting, but once her mind is stuck on something, she won’t let anyone tell her what to do.”

Slightly offended, Liam said, “I don’t think I bully anyone.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t. You seem like a nice young fellow. Now, just go on out there and have your dinner and then ask Jude to dance. She’s a pretty girl, and aside from scoot-booting around a Western bar once in a while, I don’t think she’s danced with anyone since Paul left for the service.” Dr Foster chuckled. “You may decide this is the most pleasant job you’ve ever had.”

Even though Liam believed Dr. Foster truly loved his daughter but just felt inadequate to help her, he doubted that this assignment would be easy. During this conversation Liam had conjured up one very clear image of an afternoon twenty years ago at a doctors’ picnic. He remembered a curly-haired pigtailed girl shoving him onto the ground when he was poking a snake with a stick. He hadn’t been hurting the snake, and besides, it was a snake... But the pigtailed girl obviously decided the snake needed a champion.

That was the only contact Liam had ever had with Jude Foster, Jude Something-Else now, and he’d ended up covered in mud, and hating girls for the next six months.

“Now, go on before your dinner gets cold,” Dr. Foster said. “It cost me twenty-four ninety-five a plate, and for that price, you should eat it while it’s hot. And remember my involvement with you is a private matter between you and me, for now. Jude doesn’t need to know yet.”

Uncertain about this plan, Liam returned to his table, sat next to his father and ate his tepid prime rib.

“So you talked with Martin?” Dr. Manning asked.

“He wants to hire me for a short while,” Liam said. “But I guess you already know that.”

“I hope you agreed,” Dr. Manning said. “There’s not a better man than Martin Foster, but he’s a pushover when it comes to his daughters. And Jude, the middle one, is tougher to handle than the other two. According to Martin, if left alone, without some solid, timely advice, she’ll run that foundation of hers into the ground and Martin along with it.”

“But I don’t feel right about this whole thing. Dr. Foster wants me to keep our relationship a secret until I’ve gotten closer to Jude, until she trusts me.”

“Sounds to me like a good way to approach this,” Lawrence said. “Why alienate the girl right at the start?”

Liam frowned. “What do you know about her?”

His father smiled in a guarded way that made Liam uncomfortable. “Martin doesn’t criticize his daughters for the most part, but I know he’s not used to opening up to Jude. That’s where you come in. And since Martin is likely to pay you well for this assignment, I wouldn’t want to prejudice you with idle gossip about the girl.”

“So without telling me some of that gossip you’ve heard, you’re warning me that if I work with Jude, I might be better off to use a whip and a chair rather than a mechanical pencil and spreadsheet.”

“You should talk to her tonight, see what you think for yourself. Women have always liked you, son. You’re clean, cultured, honorable...”

“Staid? Boring?” An image of his ex-wife came to mind, and he realized she might add other adjectives that could describe an Eagle Scout.

“No! I didn’t mean that at all. Could be Jude will take to you like a mama bear to honey.”

The analogy was not a comfortable one. Didn’t bears eat honey? And besides, Lawrence’s facial expression suggested that he truly might have no faith in his son being able to get along with Jude.

“You’d be doing this as a personal favor to me, Liam,” his father said. “Martin and I go all the way back to medical school. I don’t suppose I have a better friend than he is, and he needs help with this situation. It’s gotten out of control.”

“I guess I believe that,” Liam said.

“Besides, you want to go to that economic conference in Stockholm this spring, don’t you?” Lawrence added. “If you straighten Jude out, Martin will be so grateful, you’ll be able to afford a first-class plane ticket.”

Dr. Manning patted his son’s back. “At the end of the night, if you want them, I’ll give you my impressions about Jude. There probably are a few things you should know. Combined with what you learn yourself, you can decide what you want to do. But if it makes any difference, I’m counting on you, son. Friendships mean a lot to me.”

Nothing like putting on the pressure, Liam thought. He owed his father for sticking by him during his divorce. Lawrence had called his son every day to ask how he was, and Liam didn’t know how he would have gotten through those difficult days without his dad’s concern. And Liam figured he could straighten out this foundation in a matter of a few visits. He was that good. Besides all that, Dr. Foster had promised he’d tell his daughter about their alliance soon.

The wedding cake had barely been cut when Liam stood in line to get his piece. He chose a small slice and turned to go back to his table. And ran into Jude.

No time like the present to get to know Martin’s middle daughter.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping out of his way.

Liam stopped her by placing his hand on her elbow. She turned toward him and he stared into the softest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. She didn’t look like an obstinate, my-way-or-the-highway girl. “My fault,” he said, giving her his brightest smile. “My name is Liam Manning. I don’t really know many people here. Would you like to share our cake together?”

“I really can’t,” she said. “I have to give a toast soon.”

He tried again. “We’re actually not strangers. We met at a picnic years ago.”

“I remember. You were tormenting a defenseless snake.”

Was she kidding? “Tormenting?” he said. “I was doing no such thing. Besides, it was just a snake.”

“Yeah, and if a snake bit you, one of his buddies would say, ‘Don’t worry about it, pal. It was just a human.’”

Oh yeah, she wasn’t kidding.

“Anyway, snake torture is enough to make me wonder about you now. Like for instance, what did you and my father talk about in the hallway?”

So she’d seen them leave the party. He tried to speak, to come up with a convincing stall, but his jaw seemed to tighten up. He put down the dainty china plate that held his cake and reached for Jude’s hand. “Let’s dance.”

CHAPTER TWO

JUDE PULLED HER hand back. “I’d rather not.” She glanced down at her elegant so-not-her dress. “I’m part of the bridal party. I have duties.”

“But you do dance?” he asked. “And I’m sure the bride won’t mind if you have a little fun.”

Truthfully, except for a modest skill at line dancing, she wasn’t much of a dancer. Her mother had paid for the same ballroom lessons for all three of her daughters. The glides and swishes and dips had looked great when executed by Alexis and Carrie. When Jude tried to do them, she looked like a horse who’d thrown a shoe.

“Everybody dances,” she said. “But it’s not my proudest achievement.”

Refusing to take the hint, he suddenly had her hand tucked into his, and they were walking toward the dance floor. “Forgive me, but I feel the need to convince you that I’m not the snake torturer that you believe I am.”

“And dancing will do that?”

“Among other things, I hope.” He continued on a path to the dance floor. “These are all your friends and family, right?”

“Yes.” She made a quick summary of the guests in the room. How many could she actually call friends? “Most of them.” She frowned. “Some, anyway.”

“Then no one will be critical of your dancing.”

She stared into glimmering brown eyes that seemed lit from within by tiny gold sparklers. What man had eyes that perfect? She shouldn’t trust this guy. “Don’t count on it,” she said.

They stopped on the fringe of the dance floor. Jude couldn’t think of a way to escape.

“Everyone’s having fun,” he said. “And you just pointed out that you’re an important member of the wedding party. Joining in and adding to the general spirit of the occasion is part of your job, isn’t it?”

She couldn’t argue. Alex had told her, “It’s just one day, Jude. I’m counting on you. You can at least pretend to have fun.” If spinning around the dance floor one time would endear her to Alex, she could do it. Besides, pretending to have fun was what she did. She was good at it. Liam held up one hand to hold hers and slipped his arm around her back. And then, when he should have been gliding or whatever, he just remained still, staring into her eyes.

“What?” she said.

“Weren’t you taller?” he asked. “When I watched you walk down the aisle a while ago, I could have sworn you were tall. Now I wouldn’t peg you at more than five and a half feet.”

“I was tall then.”

“What?”

She raised the hem of her gauzy, satiny concoction of shiny pink, showing her bare legs almost to her knees. Laced securely to each foot was a simple but expensive running shoe. She almost laughed out loud when she saw his shocked expression.

“If you want me to put the stilts back on, you’ll have to walk me over to my table where they’re hidden under the drape. But then I won’t dance, so it’s a catch-22.”

He fidgeted with the layers of dress in her hands, trying to smooth the fabric so it covered her legs again. Was he embarrassed to be seen with a woman who’d abandoned her high heels? Too bad. Jude had never enjoyed the fashion sense of her two sisters, even though they’d tried. The shoes for the wedding had cost her fifty bucks, and they would end up gathering dust in the back of her closet.

“No, no. It’s fine. The shoes are fine,” he said, returning his arms to dance position. “We’ll dance a few minutes and then adjourn to the tennis courts outside where we can play a couple of sets.”

She almost smiled. After about thirty seconds of keeping time to the five-piece orchestra, Jude had decided that maybe she was a dancer after all. Or maybe Liam Manning was so accomplished at leading that she didn’t feel like the wallflower with two left feet. His arm pressed with authority on her back, and her hand felt light as a feather in his. His feet seemed to move with precision, stepping around and between her own so that her toes were protected while she managed to follow his unspoken directions.

At one point, he grinned down at her. “See? You’re dancing like a pro,” he said.

She chuckled. “Let’s not get carried away with the flattery, Liam.”

What is this guy’s game? she wondered. He seemed to be a mixture of propriety and charm, and Jude still didn’t trust him. She had a hard time trusting anyone who didn’t smell a little musty and have straw stuck to his boots. Although Liam Manning could possibly change her mind about all that.

She didn’t ask to sit down after the promised spin around the dance floor. Instead he slowed the pace to an easy-breathing, conversational level. “You never told me,” she began. “What’s going on between you and my father?”

“We’re back to that, are we? I hope my explanation won’t make you angry.”

“I suppose we’ll have to see about that.”

Liam cleared his throat. “Your father just asked me if I remembered you from an outing twenty years ago. I told him I didn’t, but then you reminded me of the snake incident. He mentioned how pretty you are and said I should ask you to dance.”

She grimaced. “Oh, Dad.”

“It’s okay,” Liam said. “You are pretty, and I would have asked anyway.”

Some women might have ruffled feathers after hearing such an admission. Obviously Martin Foster didn’t believe Jude could snag her own dance partner, so he decided to fix her up. But Jude wasn’t terribly upset. Making certain his daughter enjoyed a dance or two was the kind of goal Martin Foster would try to achieve on a day like this. Jude hardly ever lost patience with her father. Everything he did was from love.

She nodded, accepting that she was the daughter least likely to have dance partners lined up. “I see. And are you sorry you got stuck with the job?”

He smiled again, showing a row of perfect white teeth. If she ever found herself with Liam in good lighting, she was going to study that face until she found a flaw. There had to be one.

“Not at all. Despite your reluctance to dance with me, I think we’ve done quite well.”

So did Jude. He stopped dancing and walked with her out the door to the country club portico. “I could use some fresh air,” he said. “It’s unseasonably warm for November, but in that dress, you might be too cold.”

“No. I’m okay.”

“Good. Let’s find a place where we can sit and get acquainted.”

“This is as good a place as any.” She hopped up on the concrete railing surrounding the patio, pulled her skirt to her knees and dangled her sneakered feet as if she were anticipating plunging them into a cool stream.

“Aren’t you worried about your dress?”

“I am worried—about the next person who’ll have to wear it once I drop it off at Goodwill.”

He jumped up beside her. “I take it you’re not a, what do they call it these days? A fashionista?”

“I suppose I’m not. I buy most of my clothes at Winnie’s Western Wear, and I get my son’s school uniforms at Target. Everything else I buy online. I don’t have time to traipse through malls.”

She clutched her hands in her lap and lifted her face to catch the breeze coming through the fall maples and oak trees. There was no place more beautiful than northern Ohio in autumn. When a strand of hair whipped across her face, she tucked it behind her ear. The elaborate French something-or-other the hairstylist had perfected for her this morning was probably hanging on by a few last-gasp pins.

She and Liam sat on the railing without speaking for a moment. They both looked into the country club where wedding guests were still dancing and lining up for cake. Wesley, who was probably as uncomfortable in a tux as she was in her pink fluffy dress, was dancing with his aunt Carrie. His head only came to her chest, but they were keeping perfect time to the music. The photographer was busy snapping everyone in the throes of Alexis’s marital bliss.

“The kid in the tux who was ring bearer,” Liam said. “That’s the son you mentioned?”

“It is.”

“Cute kid.”

This guy seemed to say all the right things. Jude sighed with unexpected contentment. She felt more like herself outside, away from the festivities. And she was happy for Alexis. She deserved this wedding and this fairy-tale beginning of a new life. She and Daniel, the state’s newest young senator, were perfect for each other, and despite many problems, they’d found their way back together to share a life and a daughter.

Amazing, Jude thought. Two of the three Foster daughters had been widowed at a young age. Alexis had lost her beloved Teddy almost a year ago, and Jude had lost her Paul. Well, life had turned around for her Allie-belle today, and sitting next to this dark blond, good-looking guy, Jude had the first warm flickering of hope for a happy ending for herself one day. But the feeling was just a flicker, nothing upon which to base a future. Paul was gone. He was never coming back. Part of her would never forgive him for that. Part of her knew she would never experience the same love again.

“So, what do you do?” The voice that came from beside her and interrupted her thoughts was low and just slightly scratchy as if this dressed-up man put hot sauce on everything he ate, just like she did. No way. He had to be a hollandaise kind of guy. She didn’t answer right away because explaining what she did was difficult for some people to understand, so he added, “I mean, you don’t like walking malls...”

“I said I don’t have time for shopping,” she repeated. “But you’re right. I don’t like it, either.” She turned her head to be able to read his reaction when she said, “Actually I run a small farm. In addition, I’m the CEO of a charitable foundation.”

“No kidding?” Liam said. “That’s interesting. Is it a national or a local foundation?”

“Local. Really local. We benefit mostly people from this area. I started the foundation five years ago and named it after my late husband, Paul O’Leary. He was killed in Afghanistan.”

His eyes widened as he drew in a quick breath. “The foundation is named after your late husband?”

“That’s right.”

“So you’re continuing work that Paul started when he was alive?”

“Not exactly. I...that is, we support many causes, but I always take into consideration whether I believe Paul would approve.”

“So your day is basically spent in an office while you decide which projects are worthy of foundation support.”

She laughed. “Do I look like a person who would be glued to a desk?” He couldn’t be more wrong. Jude’s day started at 6:00 a.m. By eight o’clock, it was time to rush Wesley to school, she’d fed one hungry boy and dozens of animals, checked fences, gathered eggs and milked a very large but thankfully docile cow. And that was if something didn’t happen to interrupt her.

“You’ve oversimplified what I do,” she said. “I try to be careful with the money that comes in. I analyze each proposal for its merit. And I have to answer to a board of directors, as well. So if you’re thinking that I’m a wealthy embezzler...”

“No, of course I don’t think that. But you did say you were the chief administrator, so the buck must stop...or leave the foundation’s checking account at your desk.”

Jude did make all the decisions about spending so she answered honestly, “I suppose that’s true.”

“Who is on your board of directors?” Liam asked. “Anyone I might know?”

“You know my father. Maybe you know my sister Carrie. My son, Wesley, is on the board, as well. I realize he’s just a child, but his insights are often spot-on. He has definite opinions about children’s issues. And I hope he’ll want to carry on after I’m gone.”

“And your father and Carrie aren’t active in helping with decisions?”

“Not so much. My sister works for the US Forest Service, and she’s sent all over the country. My father is a doctor, as you know. Neither one of them is a hands-on adviser.”

“I’m something of an economist, and I know a bit about how foundations work,” Liam said. “I might be interested in donating to one of your funds. It would be a needed tax break for me.”

“We’d be happy to have your money.”

“I’m cautious with it,” he added, “so I’d have to know more about the charities you contribute to.” He paused a moment before adding, “Maybe I can come out one day this week and take a look at the charities you fund.”

Suddenly suspicious, Jude wondered if Liam had an angle. Was he an IRS investigator? They weren’t usually so underhanded about their searches. And anyway, she had nothing to hide. Her father’s accountant had made certain she’d filed all the proper papers with the government. Maybe he was just interested in what she did, although that didn’t seem logical. The only people who paid attention to the Paul O’Leary Foundation were the ones who stood to benefit from it, or the handful of small philanthropists she counted on to keep going. Maybe Liam was hitting on her? No, impossible.

But if this educated, subtly charming “economist” wanted to see the foundation at work, why should she stop him? His money was as needed as anyone else’s. “I suppose that would be okay.”

She smiled to herself, thinking how Carrie would interpret this exchange. She would choose to believe that her hermit of a sister was finally encouraging a man. Nothing could be further from the truth. Other than the persistent clerk at the feed store and one of the construction workers over at Aurora Spindell’s bed-and-breakfast, no fella had shown an interest in Jude for a long time. Or, as Carrie suggested, she didn’t notice if one did. Jude didn’t date, and she’d all but forgotten the rules and wiles of flirting.

“When should I come?” Liam asked.

She bounced down from the railing. “You’re welcome to come anytime, as long as I know so I can be certain to be there. But if you come in the day, you’d best ditch the suit for a pair of jeans and some boots. And it won’t hurt if you can swing a hammer and walk fast to keep up with me.”

“I never knew running a foundation required such physical work.”

“Did you forget? I happen to run a farm, too. Nothing happens with the foundation until all the animals are fed.”