When Amy Jensen arrived at her sister’s apartment on Thursday night, less than forty-eight hours before Lisa was scheduled to say “I do,” she found the bride-to-be in tears.

“What’s wrong?”

Lisa gestured to her dining room table, covered with dozens of champagne glasses, mini bottles of bubbly and spools of white tulle. “She dropped everything off half an hour ago, apologizing for the fact that she didn’t have time to finish.” Lisa impatiently swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Finish? She didn’t even start.”

“She” being Susanna Victoria Dalton Jensen—their mother. Suffering from a self-diagnosed delicate disposition, she frequently took to her bed with migraines whenever she was faced with a task she deemed too onerous or demanding.

Amy set down the wine she’d brought and picked up one of the elegant crystal flutes. It had been hand-painted with the bride and groom’s initials surrounded by an intricate scroll pattern. “You did a fabulous job on these, Lisa.”

Her sister managed a smile, though it wobbled at the corners.”It just would have been nice if Mom had actually stepped up and acted like a mother instead of a drama queen for once in her life.”

Amy couldn’t disagree, so she went to the kitchen and returned with a corkscrew and a couple of wine glasses.

“Dad decided to throw a wrench into the plan, too,” Lisa told her. “He’s bringing Heather Cole as his date to the wedding.”

Amy worked the cork out of the bottle, poured the wine. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“She was in my class in seventh grade.” Lisa accepted a glass of wine and took a long sip. “Never a dull moment in our family, is there?”

“I just wanted my wedding to go smoothly, without any last-minute snags. Now there’s been two—and bad things always happen in threes, so I can’t help wondering what the third is going to be.”

“There won’t be any more snags,” Amy assured her. “You’re just experiencing some pre-wedding jitters.”

Her sister glanced at the cluttered table. “I wanted to kick back tonight with my sister, drink wine and paint our toenails.”

“We can drink wine while we finish the favors. As for your toenails, I booked the ‘blissful bride’ package for you—including massage, manicure and pedicure—for ten a.m. Saturday morning at Sanctuary Spa.”

“Really?”

Amy nodded. “You’ve been running yourself ragged over the past few months organizing the wedding of your dreams, and now that the big day is almost here, I want you to be able to relax and enjoy it.”

“You always do that, you know?”

“Do what?”

“Whenever I start to feel sorry for myself for the parents I was given, you do something that makes me realize how fortunate I am to have a sister like you.”

“Nothing Mom or Dad says or does can change the fact that Saturday is your day—the day you’re marrying the man you love,” Amy said, and hoped that Lisa didn’t pick up on the wistfulness in her tone.

“I really do love him, with my whole heart.”

The curve of her sister’s lips was as instinctive as it was genuine, giving Amy hope that true love did exist, despite her personal experience to the contrary. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“You’ve gone above and beyond in so many ways,” Lisa said. “And I never even considered that it might be uncomfortable for you to be my maid of honor less than a year after you gave Adam back his ring.”

In truth, Amy’s feelings about her sister’s nuptials were somewhat mixed, not because of her own broken engagement but because she’d always assumed that, as the older sister, she would be married first. Life hadn’t worked out that way, but she was sincerely happy for Lisa and Warren. And just a little bit envious.

“I never should have accepted Adam’s ring,” Amy admitted to her sister now.

“You didn’t love him?”

“I thought I did. Until he decided to take a job in California and I realized I didn’t want to go with him.”

“You were in the middle of your residency,” Lisa pointed out in Amy’s defense.

It was the same explanation that Amy had given to her fiancé, but he’d known the same truth that she admitted to her sister now. “I could have applied to finish my residency in California.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t love him enough.”

“I’d follow Warren to the ends of the earth,” Lisa confided. “And I’m sure he would do the same.”

Amy fluffed the bow she’d just tied and pretended that her own heart didn’t ache for the forever kind of love her sister had found. “That’s how it should be.”

“Have you ever loved anyone enough?” Lisa asked.

She pretended to consider the question, though the answer was as unequivocal as her feelings had been for the one man she’d loved. “Once. A long time ago.”

“Ben,” her sister realized.

Amy nodded. She’d loved Ben Seabrook with the innocence and intensity of first love. She had not only been willing to follow him to the ends of the earth, she’d offered to do so. He’d turned her down, insisting that they each had to follow their own path.

With the advantage of time and distance, she could accept that he’d been right. She wouldn’t be where she was right now if she’d followed the urging of her infatuated heart. It was an important lesson—and one she promised herself she wouldn’t forget.

Of course, her resolve had never been tested. Because in all the years that had passed since their final good-bye, she’d never seen Ben again.

But soon that would no longer be true—because on Saturday, her sister was marrying his brother. And Ben was the best man.

***

Ben Seabrook had lost count of the number of flights he’d taken from one obscure corner of the world to another. He’d flown economy and first class, he’d hitched rides on cargo planes and military choppers and medical transports. His experiences had been alternately thrilling and

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