Unexpected Bride by LISA CHILDS Read Free Book Online Page A

about as happy to see Abby as Clayton had been. Cautiously she eased the door open farther, looking toward the other end of the hall and the groom's room. As she watched, someone stepped out—Clayton McClintock in a black tux with a pleated shirt, the white fabric crisp and complementary to his tanned skin and brown hair and eyes. A sigh slipped from between her lips. Damn.
    When he turned toward her, she shut the door and shakily leaned back against the frame. She didn't belong here. Not in this church, and most definitely not in Cloverville. Every one of the town's busybodies would be able to nod her head in confirmation of the old claims that she was, indeed, her mother's daughter. Sure, Abby's parents had been married...two months after her birth. And then, in those pre-paternity test days, her father had often claimed she wasn't really his child. Abby suspected that even her mother hadn't known for sure.
    No, Abby wasn't her mother's daughter. Her bad driving hadn't been the result of drinking, as the townspeople might have thought, but of her ADD. And furthermore, Abby knew who Lara's father was—she only wished he'd been someone else, someone who'd have wanted both her and their baby.
    "You okay, Mommy?" Lara asked, sitting perfectly still while Brenna wove flowers into her hair.
    Abby couldn't sit that quietly even now. If not for the fact that Lara looked so much like her, she might well have thought they'd switched her baby with someone else's at the hospital. The child deserved more than Abby could give her—a stable home, a loving family. All she had was Abby.
    But she worked hard to give her daughter everything she needed, and to be the kind of mother her daughter deserved. She blinked to clear her eyes as she gazed at Lara. "Oh, baby, you're just so beautiful."
    "You're beautiful, too, Mommy."
    Brenna whistled. "You really are. What a gorgeous bridesmaid's dress. Someone with fabulous taste picked out these dresses."
    Abby glanced down at the strapless red satin gown. "Oh, I don't know. I think they're kind of tacky."
    Brenna tossed a red carnation at her.
    "Hey!" Abby protested, dodging the delicate blossom. "You're setting a bad example."
    "You'd know about that," a male voice, deep with amusement, said from beyond the door. Clayton teasing her again?
    Her heart thudded against her ribs.
    "Who's that?" Lara asked in a shy whisper. "Is it Rory?" Last night, at the Kellys', she'd fallen a little in love with the teenager who'd quite sweetly played with her more than Josh's rambunctious twins had been willing to. Rory, with his curly mop of hair and huge brown eyes, was hard to resist. Abby, herself, had fallen for him years ago, when he was a grinning, toothless baby. She'd helped his sisters babysit him. He had only been a couple of years older than Lara was now when Abby had left Cloverville, but it seemed to her he'd grown up so fast.
    "No, it's not Rory," Abby told her.
    "Clayton," Colleen said, even though she was actually too far from the door to have heard his voice. She'd simply read Abby's face instead. She sat at the vanity, touching up her makeup. Molly sat beside her sister, staring blindly into the mirror.
    "You okay, Mol?" Abby asked, just as she had earlier, but this time with more than a twinge of guilt. Maybe she'd been too vocal last night, on the subject of Molly marrying a virtual stranger. One who came with two kids. If Molly had any doubts, she and the groom wouldn't be the only ones hurt—the kids would be, too. And they didn't deserve that. They deserved someone who would love them completely.
    Going by the few dates she'd had since Lara was born, Abby knew that it wasn't easy finding someone who could love your child as you did. Heck, she'd never been able to find anyone who could even love her. Abby. Except for her friends and Mrs. Mick.
    The door rattled behind her. and Clayton spoke. "Everybody decent? Let me in."
    Abby braced her body against it. "Molly?"
    "I'm fine."
    "You're not