Chapter Thirty
Miles was sure the wedding would come off without a hitch. As if anything would dare go wrong with Nic’s redoubtable mother in charge.
Miles knew they’d chosen the venue, the new barn at Thorpe’s Therapy Horses, mostly because of what the beautiful thing they’d built together meant to them, but also because it gave them more control over access.
New episodes of Stonewall may have been off the airwaves and streaming outlets for six months now, but the old ones were in constant rotation and still high on the most watched lists, making sure the world Jackson had left behind hadn’t forgotten him.
But they’d managed, with the help of this amazing town, to keep it pretty much under wraps. Kaitlyn Rafferty was the official photographer, Lily Highwater would do a write-up afterward, but other than that the press—at least, the Hollywood press—had been kept oblivious.
And they hoped to keep it that way for a while, with a honeymoon consisting of spending the rest of the weekend at—ironically for Miles—the Hickory Creek Inn. The only other concession was having Jeremy stay for a week with Nic’s folks in the main house.
“What’s up, bro?”
Jackson’s voice stopped his pacing of the nonprofit’s office. Miles pulled himself together, ordering himself not to think about Riley’s pending arrival, before he turned to look at his friend.
He let out an exaggerated whistle. “Well look at you, cowboy.”
Jackson only grinned, clearly much too happy to take offense. But the outfit fit the description, with the tailored dark navy-blue coat, western-style white shirt, an elegant, turquoise studded bolo tie, and a pair of spit-and-polish black cowboy boots.
And the hat. The hat that matched the coat, the one given to him by the town of Last Stand, to announce his acceptance into the community.
The hat it was his job to hold as the wearer pledged his life to the woman who’d earned both his heart and the heart of his son.
Miles told himself he had to focus on that, concentrate only on the part he had to play, just as Jackson always had when he was on set as Austin Holt. This was what he was here to do, not obsess about Riley—when she would arrive, would she talk to him, could he get through to her if she did?
He sat there now in the front row, that prized hat in his hands, Jeremy and Maverick sitting beside him now after completing their own much more important task of ring bearing, watching the ceremony as these two declared a love Miles knew Jackson had never expected to find.
He felt that tightness in his chest again.
Because he’d felt the same way just yesterday, that he’d found something he’d never dared hope to find.
He fought it down, because Jackson was his friend and he should be happy for him. He was happy for him. Just because he’d somehow made a mess of his own life—without even knowing how or why—didn’t change that.
The ceremony went flawlessly. Nic’s mother and matron of honor might be in a wheelchair, but she was an undeniable powerhouse, and she’d organized this to perfection.
Tucker, as best man, wheeled her down the aisle so she could have her hands free for the bouquet she held.
And just watching Jackson’s sister Tris and her man Logan, as bridesmaid and groomsman, hinted it wouldn’t be long before they were on the same path.
And the way Tucker snuck a look and a smile at his Emily told him they wouldn’t be far behind.
But what warmed his heart almost as much as the bride and groom was the ring bearer and his fluffy, golden buddy.
Jeremy and Maverick walked down the aisle in perfect sync, Jeremy holding the pillow with Nic’s ring with exquisite care, and Maverick carrying the small box with Jackson’s with equal delicacy.
The pair made everyone smile, and for a moment at least Miles was able to put his own turmoil out of his mind.
The ceremony ended with the introduction of the newlyweds to the attendees as one, thoroughly bonded entity. He handed that hat back to Jackson with the best grin he could manage, and that grin became more solid when Nic planted a kiss on his cheek before they headed back down the aisle.
It was only then that Miles spotted the woman in the sleek, trim blue dress as she got up from the second row on the opposite side of the aisle. Riley, looking more gorgeous than ever as the silky fabric flowed over her.
He quashed the urge to mow down everyone in between them to get to her.
Instead he kept his promise and saw Jeremy and his golden companion safely out of the crowd and into the back area of the new barn, which at the moment was wide open and decorated to the hilt with the blue and white that was the color scheme of the wedding.
And when he finally had a moment to search the crowd, Riley was gone.
*
“You just got married. You don’t want to deal with this.”
“Maybe that’s why I want to deal with this,” Jackson said, pulling out one of the stools at the kitchen counter of his and Nic’s house to sit on.
They’d just come back to the house to change clothes, then he and Nic would head out for their wedding night at the inn.
“You’ve been so damned happy this last couple of weeks, more than I’ve ever seen you. ”
“Yeah. Yeah, I was.” Just saying it in the past tense hurt.
The door from the bedroom opened and Nic came in. She walked straight over to where he was leaning against the counter. “Miles, what’s wrong? Jeremy said you’re really upset.”
He sighed. He really was in bad shape if even a kid noticed. “Don’t you have stuff to do? You know, female wedding night stuff?”
Not that I understand one bit about women, it seems.
And if he’d hoped to embarrass her out of pushing the issue, he’d apparently failed.
Even as he thought it he realized he understood Nic, at least. And understood that when she never moved, just stared him down, waiting, that he wasn’t going to get out of this.
And so, reluctantly, he told them what had happened up at the overlook.
When he’d finished, Jackson looked puzzled. Which was actually kind of reassuring, telling him he didn’t quite get it either. “She turned down the offer? Knowing you it was hefty.”
“I…we never got to specifics on the money part. I need an idea of backing before we get into that, but I told her I was sure it’d be enough to help with the ranch, and—”
“Wait,” Nic said. “You thought she needs financial help?”
His brow furrowed. “From what you’ve said now and then, I thought all the family ranchers in the area were having a hard time.”
“Most of the independent ranchers in the country are having a hard time,” Nic said, a bit sourly. “But Riley…” Her voice trailed off and a look of realization came over her face. “You don’t know.”
Miles was getting very tired of feeling as if he were living in the dark lately. “Apparently I don’t know anything. To borrow a phrase, why don’t you explain it to me like I’m five?”
Nic reached up and began to fiddle with her hair at the back of her head.
He’d noticed during the ceremony how beautiful it looked with silken strands of blue and white ribbons somehow woven in with her hair to match the color theme of the wedding.
Miles blinked, frowned, and looked at Jackson, who looked as blank as he felt.
“Don’t ask me,” his friend muttered.
In just a few moments her hair tumbled freely down her back and she tossed something that clattered slightly on the counter in front of him.
He looked down at something familiar, but utterly unexpected.
Christi’s favorite hair device. No wonder that pattern in her hair had seemed familiar.
What on earth did this thing have to do with… anything?
“You’ve seen one before, I gather?” Nic asked.
He stared down at the plastic and wire contraption. “Yeah. My ex used one all the time, and I see them all over the place in L.A.”
And the flight attendant, he remembered suddenly. She’d been using one too. And Tucker’s Emily, when they’d met her on patrol with Lobo. I’d have been late for my shift if it wasn’t for you…
“That’s why you said you didn’t need to get your hair done for the ceremony,” he realized belatedly.
“Yes. So you know how ingenious the thing is.”
“Christi used to say it made every woman an expensive hairdresser.” He shrugged. “She was good with it,” he admitted. “It made her hair look like she’d spent all day sitting in a salon chair.”
“Exactly. When in fact—” Nic picked it up, grabbed her now loose hair, and in an astonishingly short time, without even a mirror, had it interwoven into an intricate design all over again “—it takes this long. Or you can turn it sideways at your nape and get a totally different look. You can weave it all in, or leave some loose. A few weaves like this, or go all out, maybe add in some sparkle, until it looks like some kind of tapestry.”
“Like you did today, I get it,” he said, trying to be patient. “But what does that have to do with—”
He stopped as Nic, pulling out the weaving device as easily as she’d put it in, held it out practically under his nose.
“Notice anything?”
He remembered what Jackson had told him about this woman who had righted his and Jeremy’s lives, and realized there was no point in trying to get her to just say it. She had a point to make, and make it she would. So he looked.