A Wedding on Ladybug Farm Read Free

“Fortunately,” she said, “it doesn’t have to be.  God bless him.”
    “I don ’t know how he does it,” Bridget said, “taking care of his place and our place too.  Not to mention running the winery.”
    Lindsay watched with undisguised affection as Dominic entered the chicken coop and scattered feed amongst the eager, clucking chickens that swarmed around his feet.  “He is amazing,” she agreed.  “We were lucky to find him.”
    Cici grinned and lifted her glass to Lindsay.  “Weren’t we, though?”
    “I meant to run the winery,” Lindsay said, but a grin tugged at her lips too as she sipped her wine.  “We were lucky to find him to run the winery.”  And she turned her gaze back toward her fiancé, her face softening as she watched him perform the simple evening chore.
    Dominic was a wiry, work-weathered man with a deep tan, longish, slightly thinning hair that was salted with platinum, and a quick, warm smile that always went straight to his eyes.  His father had created the original winery back when Ladybug Farm had been known as Blackwell Farms, and its wine had been known around the world.  Dominic learned the business at his father’s knee, and had virtually grown up on Ladybug Farm.  After raising a family and spending twenty years teaching agriculture at Clemson University, he returned to the place of his youth as the county extension agent.  When Cici, Bridget, and Lindsay had sought his advice about reopening the winery, it was a match made in heaven, and Dominic had come full circle back to Ladybug Farm.
    “Has he decided what he’s going to do with his place after you’re married?” Bridget asked.
    Lindsay shook her head.  “We’ve hardly had time to talk about it.  There are so many decisions to make …”
    “Not the least of which is a wedding date,” Bridget pointed out.  Lindsay had changed the date four times already, and she had only been engaged since summer.
    “It’s going to be too cold for an outdoor wedding before long,” Cici added.
    Lindsay made a brief rueful expression and lifted one shoulder.  “Now that I can’t use roses, what difference does it make?”
    “I thought Dominic was set on having the ceremony in the vineyard.”
    Lindsay sighed. “Roses are my signature flower.  I was going to have sprays of them at each row of seats, and winding through the grape arbor, and all along the reception table.  And in the bouquet, of course.”
    “It’s a little late in the year for roses anyway,” Bridget said sympathetically.
    “Unless you’re planning to wait until summer,” Cici said.
    Lindsay brightened slightly.  “That’s a thought.  The gardens are gorgeous in May.”
    Cici and Bridget exchanged a look.  It was Cici who spoke.  “You know, Lindsay—and don’t take this the wrong way—but I was just wondering … are you sure about getting married?”
    Lindsay looked both surprised and insulted.  “What do you mean?  Of course I am!  It was my idea, remember?  Why would you say that?  Of course I am!”
    “It’s just,” Bridget put in quickly, “you keep changing the date …”
    “That’s not all my fault,” Lindsay protested.  “Dominic had to go to that conference in California in August and we all agreed he couldn’t afford to miss it …”
    Cici and Bridget quickly murmured consent.
    “And I couldn’t get the dress altered in time for the next date, and the minister wasn’t available on the next one, and my sister couldn’t make it on the next one.  And don’t forget Paul and Derrick’s grand opening pretty much took up all of last month, and since Paul is my wedding planner I could hardly do it without him, could I?  Besides, most weddings take over a year to plan.  We’ve barely been engaged three months!”
    “Well,” Cici pointed out a little less than tactfully, “most people aren’t as old as you are when they start planning.”
    Lindsay gave her a sharp look.
    “What I meant was,”