EPILOGUE
ATLAS
COW CRASHING CHAOS
“Would you like to dance?” Matthew asks, holding out his hand for me. He’s in fitted black dress pants, and a pale blue button-up shirt, open at the collar, and it is about as casual as he was willing to go for a wedding.
“I’d love to,” I reply, taking his hand and letting him lead me onto the dance floor.
Dean and the doc are in the middle, both in cream linen suits, perfect for their country wedding vibe.
Connor went all out for the event, despite Dean’s insistence that he’d be happy to marry Preston at the courthouse in Bellerelle.
We all voted at dinner and of course won, so he caved, and he and Preston got to planning everything they could ever have dreamed of having.
A large white tent has been pitched in what’s normally Brutus’s shared pen.
We set up a temporary fence to section off part of Rambo’s pen so that Brutus and his pen buddy, Pip, could stay together and we’d have room for the festivities.
In front of the tent, hay bales sit lined up as seating in front of an arch covered in wildflowers, where they took their vows earlier.
String lights hang from temporary posts, lighting the way from the drive to the tent and inside, where long wooden tables set with more wildflowers and twinkle lights host more than one hundred of their closest friends and family.
Which basically means most of the town is here.
Connor brought in a catering team to handle the food, but Sally-May made their cake and the variety of tiny pies that they served for dessert.
At the side of the room, a band from the high school is set up, playing mostly classics with a few of the newer tracks mixed in, and everyone is laughing and smiling and having an amazing time.
“So, when will your parents get here?” I ask, and Matthew smiles widely. He’s missed them so much since he moved out here, his mom most of all, and though they talk all the time on the phone, I can tell he’s excited for them to visit.
“Thursday. They’re catching the train from the city to Lexington, and then Mom has somehow managed to organize a ride from there.”
“What? Like they’re jumping in some stranger’s truck or something?
” I ask, more than a little concerned. Matthew has told me about his mom’s free spirit ways.
They’d take long walks when he was a kid, which would find them on whole-day adventures seeing new places and meeting new people, often because she had to ask for directions back to where they lived.
“Apparently, Mom posted on her socials that she was coming to Beaker Brothers Ranch for a summer vacation, and some guy she knew from years ago messaged her. He lives in Lexington and had already booked his stay at the ranch too.”
“So, they’re just happy to drive your mom and dad too? That’s kind of a suspicious coincidence, don’t you think?” I ask, and he laughs.
“That’s what I thought, but I checked the booking; he made it a full six months ago.
It’s for him and his wife for their anniversary, and they told Mom they’d love the company and the chance to catch up.
The wife used to write for some wine magazine, so Dad is super keen to talk to her too. You know how he loves his wines.”
“Wow, okay, that’s cool, I guess.”
I’m shoved from behind and stumble forwards as Poppy’s voice calls out above the music.
“Stop that cow!” I turn to see Miss Moo barreling through the guests toward the back of the tent.
She’s wearing a large white bow around her neck with wildflowers tucked into the knot, because Poppy insisted that having a flower cow was way better than having a second flower girl.
She and Miss Moo walked down the aisle together, and then Poppy sat with her off to the side while her father said his vows.
No one could ever claim that anything out here on Beaker Brothers is boring.
Before I can do anything, Nial and Denver are there, looping a sash from the back of one of the chairs through the bow around Miss Moo’s neck and dragging her toward the opening at the side of the tent.
Nial is pulling hard from the front as Denver shoves from the back, and I pull out my phone and quickly snap a few pics in the photo app they had us all put on our phones to capture the day.
“You really think that’s a photo Dean and Preston will want from today?” Matthew asks with a giggle.
“I’m sure of it,” I say, nodding to where Preston and Dean have stopped dancing behind him to also try to get photos of their party crasher on their way out.
I put my phone away, and Matthew pulls me close.
“Would you ever do this?” he asks as we start to waltz, his hand firmly at my back, leading the way.
“The marriage or the wedding?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“Both, I guess.”
“I guess so. I mean, I never really understood love. I used to look at these guys in wonder, trying to understand how they could stand to be so close to another person.”
“And now?”
“Now I can’t imagine a day without you.”
“Is that a proposal?” he asks with a chuckle that tells me he’s kidding, but I’m not joking when I reply.
“It’s a promise.”
He pushes up on his toes and kisses me softly.
“I love you,” he says, and then spins me under his arm like they do in old movies.
When I turn back, I grab him and pull him close, kissing him again.
“I love you too.”