Excerpt of Snow White Bride by Carol Grace

It was Sabrina White's wedding day.

And the groom was a no-show.

The church was full of friends and relatives who must be getting impatient by now. But not as impatient as Sabrina, who paced back and forth in the church vestibule while her bridesmaids chattered nervously and her stepmother looked out the window. The scent of the stephanotis in her bouquet was suddenly cloying. The white silk dress that had fit perfectly an hour ago was now too tight, too long and cut too low. She tugged at the neckline and checked her diamond-encrusted watch for the umpteenth time. Adam was impossibly, inexcusably late. Again.

Last night, he'd arrived at the rehearsal dinner an hour and a half late. He'd had an excuse prepared. He always did.

"Couldn't help it, babe," he'd said, kissing her on the cheek. "I'm in the middle of something big. Really important."

She didn't doubt it. He was always in the middle of something bigger and more important than her. A business deal. He'd missed her birthday and skipped Christmas due to business. He even answered cell phone calls in the middle of a kiss. But when he looked deep into her eyes and swore he'd change, she wanted to believe him. He'd said things would be different once they were married. Once he got this deal sewn up. If only she'd hang on until he made partner. Kids? Sure, after they were financially secure. Time alone together? Once they left for their honeymoon.

If they left for their honeymoon. If he made it to the wedding. If she forgave him one more time. She sighed and glanced at her watch again. It was two-thirty. The ceremony was supposed to have started at two. The organist had played her entire repertoire at least three times.

There was another wedding scheduled at four at the popular church atop San Francisco's Nob Hill. Sabrina could just imagine the next bride arriving as they were leaving, rice thrown at her by mistake, their guests mingling. She tried to stay calm, but the scene she conjured in her mind caused an hysterical giggle to bubble up and escape her lips.

Her stepmother gave her a startled look and adjusted her veil. "Don't worry. He's on his way," Genevieve said calmly.

Sabrina pressed her lips together to keep from blurting something she'd regret. Something like, "How do you know?" Or, "He's always on his way." Or, "I can't take it anymore. I'll give him ten more minutes and then..." And then what? Then she'd walk out? And go where? And do what? She couldn't do that. What would people say?

"Your father's the same way," Genevieve said.

"Always late. You don't know what they go through, the pressures, the high stakes, the money involved. You have to understand that's what it takes to succeed in this world — dedication, long hours, hard work and an occasional missed appointment."

She would hardly equate her wedding to an appointment! But Genevieve was wrong. Sabrina understood why her father had never been around when she was growing up. Never home for dinner, gone early in the morning. Golfing with clients on the weekends. Even when he had been home, he was on the phone for hours. It was dedication, all right. Dedication to the firm and not to his family. Sabrina still believed her mother's frail health wasn't helped any by her father's lifestyle. When she'd died when Sabrina was twelve, her father re-married within the year.

Sabrina scanned her stepmother's perfect features, made more perfect by recent Botox injections. They had a cordial relationship. Genevieve had never tried to be a mother to Sabrina, thinking of herself as more of a big sister. A slightly bossy big sister, in Sabrina's opinion.

Of course, Genevieve didn't mind her father's schedule. She expected it. She expected the money and the social status. She expected a McMansion and an expensive car or two and a vacation house at Lake Tahoe. She'd traded companionship for security. What else had she traded? Sabrina met Genevieve's serene gaze and realized she'd never know.

If Sabrina married Adam, she could expect the same. She'd be secure. She wouldn't have to worry about money. But Adam's behavior wouldn't end at their honeymoon. Or with his closing this deal or being made partner. Because she knew in her heart he wouldn't change. Was that the kind of life she wanted?

Was Adam the kind of husband she wanted? Suddenly her life stretched ahead of her like a long, empty highway and she felt a chill permeate her body. She knew the answers to her questions. She knew what she had to do. It was now or never.

A calm born of desperation overtook her. She said to her stepmother, "I'm going to the bathroom." She was going farther than the bathroom. She had no idea where, but somewhere far away from this farce of a wedding.

In the hall, she bumped into her best friend and maid of honor in her pale pink dress and matching shoes.

"Meg," she said, "I have to leave. Can you help me?"

"Leave?You can't leave now." Meg put her hands on Sabrina's shoulders. "You're getting married in —" she glanced at her watch and frowned

" — soon."

"No, I'm not. I can't marry Adam. Not today, not ever. Can I borrow your car?"

"Of course, but where are you going?"

"I don't know. Somewhere far away."

Meg raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sabrina took a deep breath. "I'm sure."

"But how will you — explain it to the guests, to Adam?"

"I don't know how." Sabrina shivered. Her mouth was dry, her knees were weak. She'd never been so scared in her life, or so sure of anything.

"But I'll think of something. Maybe the truth."

"I know you're upset, but —"

"I'm more than upset. If I don't leave now, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

Meg's eyes widened. Then she pressed her car keys into Sabrina's hand.

Sabrina felt her eyes fill with grateful tears. "You're the best friend anyone could have. I owe you for this. I'll make it up to you somehow. Remember that. Anything you want. Anything at all."

"Don't worry about it. Just call and let me know you're okay."

Sabrina nodded. All she had to do was walk down the hall and out the side door into the parking lot, get into Meg's black BMW and go.

Go where?

It didn't matter.

Would her family worry? Of course, but they'd understand. They had to. She just needed some time to figure things out. One thing she knew, she was not going to marry anyone until she found a man who put home and family before a fancy house or an expensive sports car. Someone who wanted lots of kids and was willing to help bring them up. Did such a man exist? If he didn't, she'd spend the rest of her life taking care of other people's kids in the classroom.

It was almost too easy, she thought as she got into the car and pulled out into the street. No one saw her. The parking lot was full of cars, but no people. All the guests were inside and seated. And the groom? He was on his way. And she was on her way. Wouldn't it be funny if they passed each other on the street going in opposite directions and didn't realize it?

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, watching the traffic, but she didn't see Adam's midnight blue Porsche. She heaved a sigh of relief. If she ran into him, he might try to change her mind. Try to sweet-talk her into going through with it, though she knew deep down she shouldn't and wouldn't.

Adam wouldn't believe she was walking out on him. He expected her to be waiting for him, no matter the time. He'd never understand her running out of patience. But she'd warned him. She'd told him how she felt about his being late or not showing up for things that were important to her.Apparently it had never sunk in how much it bothered her.

She headed instinctively for the Golden Gate Bridge and then drove northeast toward the Sierra Nevadas, where she'd spent winter holidays as a child and summers at camp learning to kayak and make beaded lanyards. Those were the days, simpler times when mistakes didn't have such dire consequences.

She just needed a few days to herself, in a place where she'd once been happy. She thought of the clear, crisp mountain air, the sound of the wind in the trees, the stars at night so close you could almost touch them.

Her idea was to stop at a lodge high in the mountains. She'd check in under an assumed name, in case her father or stepmother or Adam came looking for her.