Chapter Eleven
Royce
The music changes.
The guitarist shifts into a slow, familiar melody, the notes carrying across the arena and out over the ranch. Conversation fades immediately.
I straighten, and Axle and Cabe do the same. Chord stands at Bryce’s shoulder, his hands clasped loosely in front of him.
For a moment, nothing happens.
Then Matty appears at the end of the gravel path.
She’s wearing a green dress, the soft fabric falling into a full skirt that moves with every step. Cowboy boots peek out beneath the hem. She smiles as she steps onto the carpeted aisle and walks toward us, and I catch myself grinning.
Shelby follows.
Then Harleigh.
Then Elise, Charli’s friend.
All four look beautiful, their dresses almost glowing in the warm evening light. The color fits the setting perfectly—the ranch, the fading sun, the wooden fences and open fields stretching behind us.
But Bryce barely notices them.
His eyes keep drifting toward the end of the path, searching for her.
The guitarist lets the final notes of the bridesmaids’ song fade. Then he starts playing a different song. One everyone recognizes.
The crowd turns toward the back of the arena, and one by one, everyone rises to their feet.
Charli is on the back of her horse, seated sidesaddle.
Albert walks in front of the horse, one hand wrapped around the lead, guiding them toward us.
And damn.
She is beautiful.
She’s wearing the most incredible lace wedding dress. The fitted bodice gives way to a long, flowing skirt, intricate lace covering nearly every inch. The sleeves drape off her shoulders and fall dramatically toward the ground, moving with the breeze.
Her long brown hair is in soft waves, framing her face, beneath the cowboy hat with an attached veil trailing behind her as the horse slowly makes its way down the path.
It’s Aunt Miriam’s veil and the one piece of her mother she can carry with her into this new chapter of her life.
I glance at Bryce.
He’s completely still. His eyes are locked on Charli, and I watch his face change as she gets closer.
He’s tearing up.
“Geezus,” Axle whispers beside me.
The whole arena is silent, except for the guitarist and the soft sound of the horse’s hooves against the ground.
Bryce wipes quickly beneath one eye.
I snort. “Don’t let her see you crying,” I whisper.
He doesn’t even look at me. “Shut up.”
I laugh quietly. “Just saying, she’ll never let you live that shit down.”
His eyes never leave her.
When they reach the front, Albert stops the horse, reaches up, and takes hold of the reins, murmuring something to Charli that I can’t hear.
Then he helps her down. Her dress spills around her boots as she lands, the long train falling behind her, veil drifting over her shoulder, and she clutches a large bouquet of wildflowers.
Albert straightens her for a second, making sure she’s steady, then offers her his arm. Charli takes it, and together, they head toward Bryce, who’s desperately trying to hold himself together but is failing miserably.
His eyes are wet, his lips pressed into a tight line, and when Charli looks up at him from the end of the aisle, he finally gives up trying to hide it.
A tear slips down his cheek.
Charli smiles even wider.
Albert walks her the rest of the way, and I swear Bryce is looking at her like she’s the answer to every prayer he never knew he had. Like this moment is everything. Like she’s everything.
When they reach us, Albert stops in front of Bryce, and for a second, father and groom lock eyes, and something unspoken passes between them. Then Albert places Charli’s hand in Bryce’s.
The second their fingers touch, Bryce closes his hand around hers.
Charli looks up at him. “You look handsome, cowboy,” she whispers.
“So do you.”
She glances down at herself, then back up at him.
“I mean, you look beautiful.”
She laughs softly.
Albert kisses his daughter’s cheek before stepping aside.
The preacher smiles and steps forward.
I glance around at the people standing beneath the Wyoming sky—the family, friends, and colleagues. And I realize there couldn’t be a more perfect way for these two to begin their marriage.
Not in some fancy ballroom.
Here.
On the ranch.
With her daddy walking her down a gravel path on horseback. Wearing her mother’s veil. And Bryce standing at the end of it all, crying like a damn fool.
The preacher clears his throat. “Shall we begin?”
I glance out over the crowd as everyone begins to sit back down, and that’s when I see her.
She’s standing several rows back, among the guests, and the sight of her takes my breath away.
She’s wearing a long, flowing sage-green dress that moves gently around her legs, with the pleated fabric cascading in layers almost to the ground. The fitted bodice gathers softly at her waist. The delicate necklaces resting against her chest catch small flashes of light.
Her dark hair is long and glossy, spilling over her shoulders in loose, effortless waves.
And then she looks up.
Green eyes.
They spot mine among the crowd, and my heart gives a hard kick to my ribs.
She holds my gaze for a beat, and then the smallest smile touches her lips.
Not a stranger’s smile, but a familiar, secret one.
My chest tightens.
Then, just as quickly, she hides it. Her expression smooths over, and she looks away quickly:
I stare at her.
My mind races backward to memories I haven’t thought about in forever.
Those eyes.
That smile.
Rina?
I don’t even know if I said it aloud.
But the preacher’s voice cuts through the moment.
“Who gives this bride to be married to this man?”
I blink.
My attention snaps back to the ceremony, and I turn toward the preacher, forcing my focus back to where it belongs.
But my heart is still pounding.
Because I know that face. I know those eyes.
And if the woman standing somewhere behind me really is Marina Kincade … I have absolutely no idea what she’s doing here.
But I plan to find out.