Prologue
Twenty-five-year-old Rowan Brand was flying high.
In a very short amount of time, hers would be the biggest wedding Laramie, Wyoming, had ever seen.
She would be marrying Dutton Grange, the love of her life and the soon-to-be father of her at least three children.
Rowan had imagined the day she would get married.
She kept a wedding binder overflowing with dress ideas, cake ideas and DIY hacks.
All she needed was a perfect husband—Dutton Grange—and she had always known she was destined to be Dutton’s wife.
Today she was picking out the dress she would be wearing during their rehearsal and dinner tonight.
The wedding was three weeks away, but they had moved up the rehearsal to allow Dutton’s baby brother, Decon, to share in some of the festivities before he headed off to the Navy’s Recruit Training and Command at Great Lakes, Illinois.
She didn’t mind moving it up. She loved her soon-to-be brother-in-law.
The only thing that did bother her was what to wear for the evening.
It wasn’t like her to procrastinate, especially when it came to the wedding.
But for whatever unfathomable reason, she had saved this dress to the last minute.
And because she was always faithful with wedding updates on her socials—posting on her How True Love Found Me YouTube channel and getting follower input on just about anything wedding related—it felt odd to have her socials dark during this dress fitting.
Her followers had begun to feel like a part of her extended family.
She examined her reflection in the mirror; in her younger years, she had been on the chunky side, and her fair skin, face full of freckles and thick, copper red hair had made her the butt of many jokes and a target for bullies.
But while her friend Mercy Adams would comfort her and tell her how pretty she was, her other dear friend Cassady “Cassius Clay” Abbott would punch them in the nose or put her boot on the bully’s hind parts and push them face-first to the ground.
Once everyone knew that Cassady was her protector, they left her alone.
Rowan always felt blessed that a simple alphabetic seating arrangement in kindergarten had turned the three of them into the best of friends.
And now that she was grown, her hair had turned a lovely auburn with copper highlights, still thick and wavy.
She wore it long to the small of her back.
Her freckles had softened, and now, in her opinion, they gave her a youthful look.
She was five-seven in her bare feet and still had some curves.
But she had done the internal work to embrace herself and her body.
Yet, the scars of the bullying were still with her, no matter how hard she tried to rid herself of them.
“What do you think?” Rowan asked Cassady and Mercy.
“You look just like Ariel from Little Mermaid.” Mercy welled up, the emotional one of the bunch. She snapped off a few shots to show her.
“Without the shell pasties and the inability to walk on land as a possible barrier to the longevity of the marriage,” Cassady said, the official sarcastic one of the trio.
She was lounging on her back on her purple crushed-velvet settee, eyes mainly on her phone.
“But on the other hand, Dutton may be a freak in bed. You don’t know.
Don’t take it off your roster entirely. You on the bed, with pasties and a tail? White-hot honeymoon.”
“Why do you always have to be so terrible?” Mercy frowned at Cassady. “Don’t listen to her, Rowan. You look beautiful.”
Cassady shrugged. “You say I’m terrible, I say I am being an excellent friend giving an honest response.”
Rowan examined the photos and then at her image again in the full-length mirror. Perhaps this was too shiny and cupcake-ish for her rehearsal dinner.
“Would you unzip me?” she asked Mercy. “I’m definitely not going for a Disney princess look. But,” she added, “I’d wear just about anything to get Dutton in the mood to make a baby on our honeymoon.”
Cassady scoffed. “Is he really going to do the deed? He’s been keeping you on ice for over a year.”
“It will be our wedding night,” Rowan reminded her doubting friend.
Rowan slipped the next dress on, and Mercy zipped it up. It was a sedate navy wrap that had dainty pearl details down the back. It was demure with a 1950s housewife vibe. The Granges, like just about everyone else in Wyoming, were God-fearing and conservative. They would love this dress.
“I like this one,” Mercy said as she quickly plaited Rowan’s hair into a French braid before she took photos at all angles for her to see.
It wasn’t her style. The blue was too dark, the cut of the fabric boxy and stuffy, and the pearls were too old-fashioned.
After looking at the photos, she couldn’t seem to bring herself to like it, but she wanted to please her soon-to-be in-laws.
So what if she wore a dress that would meet their approval for just one night?
“What do you think, Cass?” Rowan turned her back to the mirror.
Cassady looked up from her phone. “If you like it, then that’s good enough for me.”
“Why are you holding back?” Rowan asked, feeling a smidge irritated. “Tell the truth.”
Mercy wore a worried expression on her lovely round face. She was a worrier and when their trio wasn’t in perfect harmony, she became anxious. “Honesty isn’t always the best policy,” she interjected, clasping her hands together.
Cassady sat up and put her phone down. “That dress doesn’t suit you. We all know that, and I’m tired of pretending that this wedding is a good idea.”
“Why do you have to be so mean, Cassady?” Mercy asked with a shake of the head.
“Why don’t you like Dutton?” Rowan asked, hands on her waist.
“He’s a pathetic weak little boy for a start.” Cassady stood up. “Dutton got his poor fragile heart broken and then decided to reset his virginity! So, he decided to follow his parents’ teaching and save himself for marriage.”
“That doesn’t make him weak.” Rowan frowned. “It’s not easy to save yourself for marriage.”
“Admirable.” Mercy nodded.
“Give me a break,” Cassady snapped back. “He’s not a virgin! He doesn’t just get to reset it. He could say I’m waiting this time for marriage, but he doesn’t get to parade around acting like he’s as pure as the driven snow.”
Mercy moved to stand next to Rowan for support.
“I wish you would try to like him,” Rowan said. Cassady was her bestie for life, and Dutton would be her one true love until the end of her life. Eventually they would have to accept each other. Wouldn’t they?
Cassady’s expression softened. “I love you. And because I love you, I will try.”
“And don’t hit him again,” Mercy interjected.
“Hey!” Cassady said with a sheepish half smile and a twinkle in her dark brown eyes. “That was middle school. And he deserved it.”
Later that day, dressed in her navy dress, with her grandmother’s matching pearl earrings and choker, she had finished the look with a pair of navy kitten heels to make sure she wasn’t taller than Dutton.
He was rather short and stocky, and she loved that about him.
And although she loved her high heels, they were easy to give up so her future husband could feel more confident standing beside her.
“Oh, Rowan.” Her mother, Marla, embraced her when she arrived at the church for the rehearsal.
“You look so beautiful. I can’t believe that my baby is finally getting married.
Praise the Lord, I can see those grandbaby blessings that are coming into my life.
We both know your brother isn’t going to be any help in that department. ”
“Oh, Mama. I hope so,” she said, ignoring the comment about her older brother by two years, Denver. Today was about her.
Not too soon after, the guests were flowing into the church: her cousins, her friends from school, and all of Dutton’s large, extended family. And, of course, Denver bringing up the rear, his hair still wet from a shower, his shirt barely buttoned.
“Did you invite the entire town?” Cassady had arrived, wearing men’s pleated black pants, a bold patterned button-down shirt and sneakers with the same print as the shirt.
“Nearly,” Rowan said. “I just couldn’t say no to anyone.”
It wasn’t common to invite all the wedding guests to the rehearsal dinner, but she had an uncommon love with Dutton, not to mention the fact that this would make incredible content for her channel.
She had hired a talented videographer whose online videos were amazing and went viral every single time.
She flew him in for the rehearsal, and she had a round-trip ticket for him to shoot the wedding.
“Here,” Cassady said. “Let me demonstrate how to say it. No-wah!”
Rowan decided to redirect the conversation. “Are you set for Montana?”
“Roger that.”
Rowan had discovered that she had distant triplet Brand cousins, Charlotte, Rayna and Danica, who owned Hideaway Ranch in Big Sky, Montana.
The destination ranch offered newly built log cabins, majestic views and goat yoga.
It seemed the perfect spot to let go of the wedding stress and head into marriage feeling invigorated.
So, she decided to have a bachelorette trip with Mercy, Cassady and their longtime friend Nash Landry.
They were leaving tomorrow and would spend two weeks of relaxation at Hideaway Ranch before heading home.
Then the one-week countdown to the wedding would begin.
Cassady disappeared into the crowd after she and Rowan hugged.
Circulating the crowd, Rowan greeted everyone to make them feel welcome and say thank you for coming to celebrate her love with Dutton.
At last, the guests found their seats and her bridesmaids and groomsmen were gathered in the church foyer.
“Okay.” Rowan’s heart was beating too fast, and she felt cold and clammy as the rehearsal was about to begin. “It’s go time.”
Her mom, on Denver’s arm, and Dutton’s parents were escorted first to their seats at the front of the church. Then her ten bridesmaids, including Mercy and Cassady, were escorted by Dutton’s groomsmen and Nash, and then her father, misty-eyed, led her down the aisle to Dutton.
He was handsome in his own way. Looking rather dashing in a navy blue suit, Dutton looked at her with a nervous smile and a quivering lip. He was dabbing sweat off his forehead.
“I’m counting on you,” her father told Dutton quietly.
“Yes, sir.” Dutton shook his hand, a noticeably high-pitched waver in his voice. “I’ll try to do my best.”
Her father kept hold of Dutton’s hand, his serious gaze holding Dutton’s eyes like a Spock mind-meld. “I expect you to do your best, not try. Do.”
Dutton nodded his head and when her father let go of his hand, he rubbed it. Her dad did have an impressive grip.
Her father kissed Rowan on the cheek and then took his seat by her mother.
“It’s okay.” Rowan took Dutton’s hands in hers. His palms were sweaty, and it was making the tiniest of alarm bells ring in her mind. “I’m nervous, too. That’s why we do this. Get the kinks out before our big day.”
Her fiancé tugged his hand free and dabbed more sweat off his forehead. Now she was feeling uneasy. The priest began the rehearsal while Dutton pulled on his necktie.
“Is it hot in here?” Dutton asked, making the priest pause.
Embarrassed, Rowan apologized to the priest. Then quietly to Dutton, she asked, “What is going on?”
“I need to talk to you,” Dutton whispered, sweat running down his cheeks.
“Now?”
“Right now.”
She made their excuses to their guests and then followed Dutton through a door to the room reserved for the groom’s party.
Dutton closed the door behind her, and then he ripped off his tie, took a nearby towel and rubbed the sweat off his face.
“What. Is. Going. On?” she asked sternly. “We have nearly a hundred people out there. We both have family in from out of town for this.”
Dutton looked her straight in the eye, and it did occur to her that he hadn’t done that so much lately. She had thought it was because of the big business deal he was working on in Washington state with his father.
“Rowan. I’m sorry.”
Her hands went to her hips. “Don’t you dare.”
“I can’t marry you.”
“No.”
“I’m…” he started. “I have been…”
Confusion, anger, disbelief and shock were all hitting her smack in the face. “What have you done?”
“I’ve been seeing someone.”
Her eyebrows lowered, and she knew she looked confused because she was. “Like a doctor? Are you sick?”
“I’m going to be a father.”
She couldn’t get one word out of her mouth.
“Do you get what I’m trying to tell you, Row?”
She slit her eyes at him. “Explain it to me like I’m stupid, Dutton.”
“I met someone in Seattle.”
“You met someone,” she repeated as a compulsion.
“I’ve fallen in love.”
“You’ve fallen in love.”
“And she’s pregnant.”
Rowan’s eyes widened, and she felt sick and dizzy. In a voice that was not her own, she yelled at him, “You got her pregnant? What about not having sex before marriage?”
Mercy and Cassady rushed into the room, and Rowan, without thinking, pointed at Dutton and yelled, “Hit him!”