Chapter 33
Gabe
Today’s our wedding day! Izzie kicks me out of our cabin before lunch so she can get ready. All she and Sofia can talk about is some special dress that arrived this morning—which I’m looking forward to seeing—and their makeup scheme for the ceremony. When I left the cabin, Sofia was trying to talk Izzie into doing a sunset coral monochrome look, while Izzie wants to do either a traditional bridal look or an old Hollywood style. I suppose I’ll learn the lingo now that I’m marrying a makeup guru. She’ll look gorgeous in whatever she chooses.
Mom and my sister Chloe arrive just after lunch. I feel like they cut it a little close, but I don’t pass those thoughts along.
“Son!” Mom squeals as she gets out of the rental car. Rushing over to me, Mom pulls me into one of her patented hugs. The kind that squeezes every breath from your body.
“I can’t believe my baby boy is getting married,” she says, blinking back tears.
Subtly wiping the corner of my eyes, I say, “I’m so happy you’re here! Wait until you meet Izzie, you’re going to love her!”
Chloe finally emerges from the vehicle, wrinkling her nose the minute her feet hit the ground. “Why on earth did you feel compelled to get married at a cattle ranch?” She throws an annoyed look towards the corral where horses are waiting to be saddled for the trail ride.
“Those are horses, and this is a dude ranch, not a cattle ranch,” I say.
She waves her hand. “Whatever! Is there anywhere I can get a Starbucks?”
My sister’s snooty attitude gets under my skin, but I’m not going to let anyone, least of all my entitled sister, ruin my day. Chloe has always been a city girl, through and through. She reminds me a lot of Izzie when I first met my fiancée at her dad’s house. But Izzie’s the one who loves this ranch and insisted that we get married here, so she’s definitely shed the city girl persona.
“There’s coffee in the mess hall over there,” I say, pointing towards the rustic building.
Chloe’s nose wrinkles even more. “Mom, we should have stopped at that Starbucks on the way.”
Mom comes over and gently puts her arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “After we check in, let’s go see what they have in the mess hall. You might be surprised.”
The pair tromps off to the reception office where Mindy will check them in. I chuckle. Wait until Chloe finds out they’re in the Desperado Cabin.
~*~
After making sure Mom and Chloe got settled in their cabin—yes, my sister made several snide comments about having to rough it—I go to the Berringers’ to get ready. I wanted Bruno to be my best man, but he’s on a Grayson Security assignment and couldn’t attend the wedding. With me getting married, they’re down a man, so I could hardly complain.
However, this left me with the dubious choice of best man between the General, Bernie, Jethro (who would be doing double duty since he’s performing the ceremony), and a grizzled cowboy named Arthur. Out of that group, Bernie seemed like the best choice. When I asked him, Bernice negotiated an exclusive scoop about Izzie’s and my wedding for the Celebrity Detection Network, complete with photos. They promised not to post the story until after Izzie and I head back to California so we don’t have to fight off the paparazzi here at the ranch.
“There’s the handsome groom!” Bernice quips when I arrive at their cabin.
“Your tux arrived about an hour ago,” Bernie adds as he peers around his wife.
Thank goodness for online tux rentals because the process was easy and efficient. “Let me try it on, just to make sure it fits.”
Bernice and Bernie exchange looks as they direct me to one of the bedrooms where my tux lies spread out on the bed.
The pants and shirt fit fine and are the correct length, but the trouble begins when I try on the jacket. It’s at least a size too small, maybe two sizes. I can barely stuff myself into it, and once I have it on, I can’t lift my arms or button the jacket. My heart sinks because there’s no way I can wear this. Striding out to the living room, wearing the jacket, I exclaim, “The suit jacket is too small!”
“Told you so,” Bernice says smugly.
“I should never wager against you,” Bernie grouses.
“Hand over the twenty,” Bernice says, extending her hand. He grumbles, then reluctantly gives her the money.
“You bet on my tux fitting?” I say, my voice rising in frustration.
The pair sports embarrassed expressions. “It was just a side bet,” Bernice mumbles.
“We weren’t sure it wouldn’t fit,” Bernie adds.
My brows slam together. “What am I going to do?!”
Izzie bought a fancy dress, and all I have are black pants and a white shirt.
Bernie steps forward. “You’re about Jethro’s size. Let’s see what he has in his wardrobe that you can borrow.”
Knowing there’s no other choice but to borrow from the cowboy, I shed the tux pants and shirt for my jeans and T-shirt, then rush over to Jethro’s cabin with the Berringers hot on my heels.
“How can I help ya?” Jethro asks as he squints through the door.
“Gabe has a little problem,” Bernice pipes up.
“His tux jacket doesn’t fit,” Bernie adds.
“He looks like a sausage trying to escape its casing,” Bernice says with a chortle.
Arching an eyebrow, Jethro says, “You just tried on your tux now?”
Feeling chastised, I huff, “The tux only arrived about an hour ago.”
“Someone was counting on it fitting,” Bernice says under her breath.
“Come on in, let’s see if anything I have fits,” Jethro says, opening the door wider.
My eyes nearly pop out of my head once we’re inside. The cabin’s interior is nothing like any of the guest cabins. Jethro’s cabin is luxurious. The open floor plan has soaring vaulted ceilings with exposed wooden beams, and a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace serves as the focal point of the living room. Polished hardwood floors are covered with pricy-looking rugs positioned underneath the leather sofa and loveseat.
“Holy moly! How’d you score these digs?” Bernice asks as she turns in a 360-degree circle while Bernie stands beside her with his mouth hanging open.
Jethro rocks back and forth on his feet, then clears his throat. “I own the place,” he says.
“The staff can build their own cabins?” Bernie asks.
Shaking his head, Jethro says, “No. What I meant was, I own the dude ranch.” He flinches as if he shouldn’t have disclosed that little tidbit. “Please keep that information to yourself.”
Wow! I really underestimated the guy. I thought he was merely a staff member, a hired hand so to speak. Both the Berringers’ heads have perked up. I bet they’re wondering whether the Celebrity Detection Network would be interested in stalking rich cowboy Jethro.
“Come on, this way to my closet.”
We traipse down a long hallway, past several small bedrooms, then walk into a massive bedroom with a well-outfitted attached walk-in closet. There’s storage compartments, racks and racks of hanging clothes including suits, at least fifty cubbies for shoes, and even a full-length mirror on the far wall.
Who is this guy?
“I own one tux,” Jethro comments as he rummages through the hangers. He pulls a hanger off the rack and hands it to me. “You might not like the western fit.”
The tux’s fabric feels luxurious under my fingertips, but right away I notice what he’s referring to as western fit. There’s fringe all along the bottom of the sleeves and across the front, and the jacket is tapered more than a traditional tux jacket.
“Ooh! That’s fancy! Try it on,” Bernice says, clapping her hands.
I jog into the master bath—an extravagant oasis with high-end finishes—and slip into the tux. It fits beautifully, as if it was tailored for my body. My mouth drops when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look a lot like a modern-day Porter Wagoner, except I’m wearing black and not some flashy color. Closer inspection even reveals rhinestones scattered across the front of the jacket, making it twinkle under the fluorescent lights.
When I stroll back into the master closet, Bernice whistles, then says, “Hot dang! All you need is a black cowboy hat and you’re set.”
“Where’s your guitar?” Bernie wisecracks while Jethro laughs.
“You think Izzie is going to like this?” I ask, unsure as to whether she’ll embrace the cowboy look or not, especially the rhinestones.
“She’s going to fall over when she sees you in that. Trust me,” Bernice replies with a wink.
Jethro claps me on the back. “I’ve got a black cowboy hat; you can get that on your way out.” He looks at his watch. “You better hurry cowboy, it’s only forty-two minutes until the ceremony.”
Looks like I’m going to be decked out like a country music star. I hope Izzie likes the look.
~*~
My palms sweat while Jethro and I wait at the front of the chapel. It’s rustic yet cozy, like everything else at this ranch—other than Jethro’s cabin. That’s a whole other level, like a celebrity’s mansion you might see in Aspen or Vail.
Our small contingency of guests is seated quickly. Mindy’s acting as wedding planner, hovering at the back of the church and holding a clipboard, and some of the ranch staff are filling in as ushers.
The General and Melanie take a seat in the second pew from the front, and they’re joined by Bernice. Izzie’s father is ushered in next, and he sits in the front pew on the right side of the church. He tosses me a grouchy look, but I wasn’t expecting anything else. A few of the ranch staff join him on that side of the church so it isn’t empty.
Grizzled ranch hand Arthur escorts Mom as Chloe follows behind them with a scowl on her face. Mom looks so pretty in a tea-length rose-colored dress, which is perfect for the occasion. On the other hand, Chloe chose a form-hugging red dress that shows off too much leg and too much cleavage. After Mom and she are seated in the front pew on the left side, I see Chloe’s eye widen when she notices Jethro. They notice each other at the same time, and there’s a long, drawn-out heated gaze when their eyes lock. Interesting.
The music starts, and Sofia accompanied by Bernie makes their way down the aisle. When they reach the altar, Sofia stands to the left and Bernie joins me on the right. Bernice waves at him and he waves back.
As the music swells into what everyone calls the Wedding March, Izzie appears at the back of the church. She takes my breath away in her white dress. It fits her like a glove, and it’s sexy and modest at the same time. She’s holding a bouquet of red roses, and there’s a crown of baby’s breath on her head. From where I’m standing, I’d guess that she decided on the traditional bridal look for her makeup, which is subtle and applied impeccably.
She floats down the aisle, and my heart rate increases with every step as she gets closer. It was a last-minute change for her to walk by herself after her father drilled her, just like he did me, as to why we were rushing into marriage. Izzie told him in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t any of his business and that he should keep his nose out of her life. I’m not sure that they’re speaking to each other, but at least he had the grace to attend the wedding.
Izzie hands her bouquet to Sofia, I hold out my hand and draw her next to me, then we turn and face the altar. Jethro bestows a warm smile on us, making me feel truly blessed. The woman at my side ticks all the boxes for me, and I can’t believe I thought she was a snooty diva when we first met. She gives me a shy smile, then leans over and whispers, “I love the look, cowboy.”
Squeezing her hand, I whisper back, “You are breathtaking in that dress.” Her cheeks turn pink at the comment.
The ceremony becomes a blur as Izzie and I follow Jethro’s instructions, including lighting a unity candle. The short order cook performs a lovely rendition of “Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop,” only she changes the words to “at a bookstore.” I grin down at my bride. How appropriate.
We opted for a short, traditional ceremony. However, Jethro feels compelled to “say a few words” as he puts it. Everyone chuckles when he tells the story about my runaway horse and how Izzie came to my rescue.
“I knew they were perfect for each other when he kissed the daylights out of her,” Jethro says.
That was our first kiss, so I remember it well. Izzie tips her head back and gazes up at me, that shy smile returning to her face, letting me know she remembers it too. Mentally I fist pump.
Slipping the ring on Izzie’s finger, I repeat Jethro’s words, “I give you this ring as a visible and constant symbol of my promise to be with you through all life’s experiences. With all that I am and all that I have, I honor you .”
Izzie blinks back tears, and her hand trembles as my baritone voice echoes around the church. Mom always said I should be an actor with how well my voice carries.
When it’s Izzie’s turn to place the ring on my finger, she repeats after Jethro. “I give you this ring as a visible and constant symbol of my promise to be with you through all life’s experiences. With all that I am and all that I have, I honor you .” She pauses and gives me a flirty look, then continues , “ Let it be a reminder that I am always by your side, even when you drive like James Bond .”
The crowd roars while I squeeze her playfully to my side. “I don’t plan on doing that ever again,” I whisper, and she rolls her eyes and laughs. Maybe I will find another occasion to drive like Mr. Bond?
Once the laughter dies down, Jethro says, “You may kiss the bride.”
In a flamboyant move, I bend Izzie back over my arm and kiss the daylights out of her, just like after the horse rescue. She wobbles when I set her back on her feet, but there’s a radiant smile lighting her beautiful face.
The audience claps when Jethro says, “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Martin.”
Izzie and I stand side-by-side, beaming at our guests and at each other. We clasp our hands and stride down the aisle, then wait for our guests at the back of the church.
Everyone is going to the mess hall in a few minutes for the Cowboy Buffet, but they don’t seem in any rush to exit the church as they talk and mingle up front.
“I think they forgot about us,” Izzie comments.
“Fine by me. I get a few minutes with my beautiful bride,” I say, tugging her to my side and planting another quick kiss on her lips.
“When did you come up with this?” Izzie asks, gesturing towards my cowboy tux.
“When the tux I ordered didn’t fit,” I say.
Her eyes go wide. “It didn’t fit?”
“Nope.”
“Whose tux is this?” she asks.
“It belongs to Jethro,” I say.
“Well, Mr. Martin, you took my breath away when I saw you wearing this cowboy tux.”
“Same. Izzie you look gorgeous. Did I mention that I love you?” I say.
She giggles. “You can show me tonight at the Kiddie Lodge.”
I groan. I’d forgotten about where we will be spending our wedding night, and I haven’t solved the bunk beds issue yet either.
“You can have my place,” Jethro says unexpectedly from behind us.
“Did you overhear all that?” I ask.
He laughs. “I did. No one should spend their wedding night in the Kiddie Lodge. You’ll be comfortable at my place.”
That’s an understatement. His place will be like spending the night at The Ritz.
“Thanks man, I appreciate it,” I say. “How can we pay you back?”
“Introduce me to your sister,” Jethro says, casually looking over the crowd for a glimpse of Chloe.
Izzie and I both laugh. The city girl and the cowboy? That’s going to be like roping a tumbleweed in a windstorm.