I’d already missed the main course, but I did my duty, held up my glass, and said the nicest things I could think to say about my kid brother and my new sister. Jess was going to be a killer sister—fun to watch football with, and she could soup up my truck for me. People laughed when I said that, but I was serious.
Then I filled a plate of leftover brisket, pocketed my goodies and headed outside. I had the after-party to prep. I found Lizzy still in the barn, just sweeping up the last pile of dirt. I set the plate down and looked around. “I didn’t say you had to detail the place. Just pick up the darts. This looks great.”
She set the broom aside. “Did you really say water canon?”
I chuckled. “Yep, I sure did. We have a big water truck out back. See, Cody and Marshall thought it would be funny to paint a bunch of pink hearts and stuff all over Dusty’s truck before they leave for their honeymoon, but Dusty will die of embarrassment to have smooching signs all over his rig. I figure we’ll give them a sendoff to talk about for years to come, and wash some of that stuff off the truck into the bargain.”
Lizzy came close, sly and smooth as a little cat. “And I can hold the water hose? Is it strong, like a fire truck?”
“Not quite, but that’s a good thing. A fire hose would take Evan and Marshall and me just to hold it. But it’s bigger than a garden hose. Trust me, you’ll love it. Hey, you hungry?” I offered her the plate of brisket. “I didn’t grab a fork, but we’re in a barn. Pretty sure bare fingers are legal.”
She giggled and dove in. The kid could put it away, and she liked the same pieces I did—the crusty edge pieces with all the flavorful bark to savor. We cleaned the plate slick, and I tossed it in the trash.
“Okay, one last thing. We’re missing out on the cake, so I brought some dessert.” I dug into my pocket and produced a handful of silver-wrapped deliciousness.
Lizzy’s whole face lit up. “Those are my favorites! My aunt won’t let me have them.”
“Well, your aunt don’t need to know. You got pockets in that dress? No? Here, gobble quick, then we’ll run out back and drive the truck around before everyone comes outside.”
Lizzy unwrapped about five chocolate kisses and shoved them all in her mouth at once. There were so many she couldn’t close her mouth to chew them, and we both laughed at how she jawed her chocolate like a cow. Her teeth were bathed in brown syrup, and her lips were covered with sticky goo. Oh, her aunt would know she’d had candy, all right, but who cared? We were at a wedding, and it was chocolate.
She was still smacking her lips, trying to sweep all the chocolate off her gums, and her face was glowing with happiness. “Dis is da bes’ wedding ever!”
“And it’s going to get better. Need some more?” I gave her another handful, then grabbed my hat off the bench beside me. “Let’s go make this a wedding no one will ever forget.”
Audrey
I always cry at weddings. I don’t even have to know the couple. It’s just the idea of two people plunging into the unknown forever, and swearing to do it side-by-side and hand-in-hand. I don’t know; it just gets me every time. Usually, by the time the groom takes the bride’s hand and looks utterly breath-taken, I’m dabbing tears. And when the bride lifts her sure, but trembling voice to pledge her heart to the man she adores, I’m a blubbering mess. I’ve learned not to wear mascara to these things.
But today, I was in worse shape than usual. I’d gotten to be pretty good friends with Jess. We’d spent many hours together over the past few months, mostly volunteering at White Pines. I had met a lot of great people there, but she was the only person I’d made much time for after hours. It wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy other people. I used to be a social butterfly, with such a full engagement calendar that I’d hired a virtual assistant just to keep it all sorted.
These days, I had my hands full taking care of my sister Kat, who was in the final stages of kidney failure, and her precocious, energetic daughter Lizzy. Social life? That was a thing of the past. I was surviving, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to keep everyone’s spirits up, and praying against the inevitable.
Jess was the one person I’d gotten comfortable enough with to let her in behind closed doors on those days when I just needed someone to talk to who didn’t try to solve the unsolvable. She just listened. She smiled. She held my hand, brought over some books to read, and she picked up Lizzy from school a few times when I’d been swamped at work. And now, she was moving to Walker Ranch.
What was it about these Walker cowboys? All my friends were dropping like flies for them! First, Morgan—although, I guess Cody was adopted, but that still counts in my book. Then Kelli, who’d snapped up maybe the most handsome of the bunch. From what I could see, she and Marshall spent as much time “bickering” as they did kissing, and they seemed to thrive on it.
Even Meryl Justice, the retired bank manager who’d approved my loan to buy the dental practice, was engaged to the patriarch of the Walker family. Blake was a good guy. They all were, everyone said. But what was the deal? I honestly didn’t understand the obsession with cowboys.
Especiallythatone. I rolled my eyes and counted to three when Luke Walker, the wild one of the family, yelled out for Dusty to kiss Jess again in front of everybody. The man was a yokel.
I was embarrassed for Jess, but she didn’t seem to mind kissing her new husband again. Everyone else erupted in applause and laughter. Itwascute, the way Dusty draped his blushing bride over his arm and shielded their faces with his hat.
I had to admit that Jess had done pretty well for herself. Dusty was one of the sweetest men alive, but that didn’t mean I had any intentions of following in her footsteps. The only cowboy to make me swoon was Cowboy Bill, who owned Beaufort’s steak house. He made a pretty delicious chili, and, wonder of wonders, it was now one of my favorite comfort foods to pick up in a carry-out box after a long day.
But other cowboys? Nope. I had a type already, and my type didn’t include a dusty hat and worn-out boots.
Everyone was wandering toward the backyard of the house, where a dozen picnic tables had been set out under shade tents in case it started raining again. Blake promised everyone a plate of smoked brisket, baked beans, cheesy potatoes and corn bread, and nobody minded a little rain with that kind of inducement. Hardly standard wedding fare where I’m from, but itwasamazing. If anyone knew how to smoke a brisket, it was the Walkers.
I waited in line for my turn to fill my plate and glanced around. My niece was nowhere to be seen. I stood nervously on my toes and swept the wedding party with a worried glance. Lizzy had a bad habit of getting into trouble.
She wasn’t a bad kid. She was book-smart and sharp as a whip at the same time—a dangerous mixture combined with the boredom that was her life. A kid with a terminally ill mother did a lot of waiting around.
I’d been taking care of Lizzy for over a year now, and I’d watched with dismay the slow unraveling of her behavior. She got in trouble at school for making too much noise and not turning in her homework, even when I’d checked it the night before. She got dropped from the girls’ volleyball team for showing up late to practices, even though she was at school by the proper time.
And she had trouble making friends because nobody quite knew how to take her. The more she was left to her own devices, the worse things got. And I hadn’t seen her since the last vows were spoken.
“Hey, Morgan,” I asked, sidling over to her at a table, “have you seen Lizzy? She promised not to run off this time.”