Chapter 18
Catherine
“Mason?” I whispered even though no one was around to overhear. We stood inside the house, behind the doors that led to the patio and the rose garden. Nerves skittered across my skin, nipping into me like fire ants.
“Ma’am?” he said as he stood sentry at the doors, waiting for the signal from Hallie for us to walk down the aisle.
I fidgeted with the opera gloves. “Can you…talk to me?”
He lifted a thick brow.
“I just need a distraction.”
Mason’s smile was kind. “And here I always thought you had nerves of steel. Takes a brave one to do all the pageant stuff.”
“God, I wish I was onstage right now,” I muttered.
Mason left his post at the doors and rummaged around a potted tree in the corner. A woven basket hid the actual pot but left enough space between the two to hide—
I laughed and raised an eyebrow as Mason straightened and produced a mini liquor bottle. “How did you know that was in there?”
Mason cracked the top. “Walt hated events as much as Hayes does. He hid moonshine in most of the rooms. I don’t think he’ll mind if you borrow some. But this is all you get. One shot to calm the nerves.”
I took the mini bottle and grimaced as I downed a measly sip that tasted like hellfire, leaving half for him. “I don’t drink alone.”
Mason chuckled and downed the rest in one swallow, not even wincing. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”
“Please,” I begged as Mason hid the bottle back in the pot.
“Something you learn in bulldogging is that you just have to jump. Might hurt a little when you fall. You might get banged up. But you don’t win if you stay on the horse.”
That took me by surprise. “You were a steer wrestler?”
“Long time ago.” He chuckled. “It’s a young man’s game.”
“You’re still a young man,” I said, elbowing him as we stood side by side at the doors as the string quartet began to play.
“I don’t need the adrenaline anymore,” Mason said. “I just need the roses and the mountains.” He cracked a smile. “And the occasional ornery calf that escapes Grey’s herd on the west side.”
The music swelled, and Hallie gave us a nod from her post at the back row of seats. That was my cue to head down the aisle.
Mason donned his nicest cowboy hat and offered his arm. “Take it nice and slow. No running down the aisle.” He paused. “Unless you’re running away. Then just let me know and I’ll give you my keys.”
I took a deep breath and stepped into the early-afternoon sun. “No going back now.” I paused as Mason closed the doors behind me. I expected him to immediately join me but looked over my shoulder when he didn’t.
Mason was kneeling behind me, pulling out the hem of my dress’s train and the edge of my veil so that they lay neatly while I walked. He straightened and offered me his arm again.
“Thank you,” I whispered as tears welled in my eyes. Mason was beyond kind, which was exactly why I had asked him to walk me down the aisle in a pinch. But the ache for it to have been my father still lingered. I slipped my arm through his and took the first step.
Mason patted my hand as we made the slow walk to the floral arch. “I won’t let you fall.”
The moment we rounded the corner, the small crowd seated in neat rows of chairs in the grass rose to their feet. Hayes stood just inside one of the paths that snaked through the rose garden.
We had seen each other dressed in our wedding attire already. He had held me while I cried and waited patiently while I fixed my makeup and cleaned up the spot on his suit. We had posed for photos together at the behest of the photographer.
But nothing—nothing—had prepared me to see Hayes waiting for me at the end of the aisle with glassy eyes that matched mine.
“You alright?” Mason asked under his breath.
The tension leached from my shoulders as Hayes’s solemn expression broke into a smile.
“I’m good,” I said as I quickened my pace.
“You’re walking awful fast. Can’t wait to get up there?” he teased.
I nudged him with my elbow, and he chuckled.
I met Hayes’s eyes and my smile grew. Butterflies danced inside me as we neared the floral arch.
Lewis and his date sat smack-dab in the middle of the front row. He let out a blustering huff of annoyance as Mason kissed my cheek and took my bouquet from me so I could hold Hayes’s hands.
“Thank you,” I said to Mason before he took his seat.
The officiant launched into his spiel about why we were gathered here today, but Hayes paid him no mind. “I know I said it earlier, but you look breathtaking.” The spectators were far enough away that he couldn’t be heard.
“We’re doing this?”
His steeled expression lightened into a gentle smile. “Yeah. We’re doing this.”
“Mason gave me a shot of Walt’s moonshine,” I admitted.
Hayes laughed, earning a glare from the minister.
“Apparently, there’s more hidden around the house,” I whispered.
“Pretty much in every drawer in his study. I’m always finding little bottles while I work.
” Hayes squeezed my hands. “Prohibition ended in the thirties, but running stills in the Appalachians became a point of pride for bootleggers, so a lot of them stayed. When Granddad bought the land in the eighties, he made deals with the runners up in the mountains. Promised that he wouldn’t bother them as long as they brought him some hooch once a year. ”
I loved Walt Wilder. “You’re serious?”
Hayes nodded. “Go down to the wine cellar sometime. He never drank what they brought him, but he’d label it and put it on the shelf. He liked preserving history that way. Even kept a ledger in his desk with information on each batch.”
The minister cleared his throat, catching our attention. “Catherine Grace Foster, do you come here of your own free will?”
I took a breath and looked at Hayes. “I do.”
“And Hayes Thomas Wilder, do you come here of your own free will?”
The answer should have been no. Hayes was being strong-armed into this. But he looked me in the eye and nodded. “I do.”
The minister looked out among the crowd. “Before we proceed with the vows, is there anyone present who sees any reason that these two should not be wed?”
“I object!” Lewis shouted, jumping out of his seat.
Hayes huffed in annoyance, but his hold on my hands remained as gentle as ever.
Lewis started to stomp toward the minister, but Mason and Levi were faster, each taking one of Lewis’s arms and dragging him to the back of the crowd.
To my surprise, Warren Grey had made an appearance, standing behind the last row of chairs.
He seemed to take great delight in relieving Mason and Levi of the man, and marched him into the house, holding a fistful of the neck of Lewis’s tailcoat suit as Mason and Levi returned to their seats.
“Sorry about that,” Levi said with a grin and a flourish of his hand. “Proceed.”
I bit back a laugh.
“Well,” the minister said as he dabbed his forehead. “Shall we continue?”
“Maybe we should skip to the vows,” I said.
The minister flipped a few pages ahead in his book. “Catherine, do you take Hayes as your lawfully wedded husband? To live together in holy matrimony. To love, protect, and to cherish him. For richer or poorer. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. As long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
“Hayes, do you take Catherine as your lawfully wedded wife? To live together in holy matrimony. To love, protect, and to cherish her. For richer or poorer. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. As long as you both shall live?”
Hayes didn’t hesitate. “I do.”
Those two syllables stopped my heart, and the world began to spin.
Hayes’s tender gaze was too much to bear.
I glanced toward the house for a moment to regain my composure, and spotted Lewis—who was now an alarming shade of purple—animatedly shouting at Warren Grey, who paid him no mind.
From the front row, his date couldn’t be bothered to look up from her phone and was unfazed that Lewis had been dragged out of the ceremony.
“Catherine, if you would take Hayes’s ring, put it on his left hand, and repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed.”
I regained my composure as I pulled Hayes’s wedding band from my pocket. This is just a show. The butterflies aren’t because of real feelings. It’s stage fright. It has to be.
I took a breath and slid the ring onto his finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
“Hayes, if you’ll do the same to Catherine and repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed.”
Hayes calmly produced a ring from his pocket and took my left hand, slowly sliding it on. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
It wasn’t the words that took my breath away. It was the ring.
Hayes had insisted on picking them up from the jeweler himself, and I had never thought to ask to see mine before today.
The ring wasn’t the simple gold band that matched his. It was the showstopping design wrapped in diamonds that I had insisted was too much.
“Hayes,” I whispered as I looked up at him.
He read my mind. “It was the right ring. I wasn’t going to let you settle.”
“By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Virginia, I pronounce you man and wife. Mr. Wilder, you may kiss your bride.”
There was no hesitation. Hayes moved in before I could blink, before I could take a breath. He didn’t put his hands on my waist or dip me backward in a dramatic kiss. He cupped my cheeks and met me in a kiss that was just for us.
It was sweet, like the dogwoods that lined the lane, stretching their branches to meet each other.
It was soft like the breeze that flowed down from the mountains.
It was shrouded in secret, keeping it sacred like the first kiss we had shared by the pond.
It was warm, like the sunlight that brought each rosebud to bloom.
The crowd stood, breaking into applause as Hayes smiled against my lips.
“That was some kiss,” I whispered.
Hayes’s dark eyes swirled with an odd mix of elation and eagerness. “I wanted a good memory in this garden.”
Four headstones peeked above the roses, privy to the admission.
“I wanted it with you,” he added.
Mason eased out of his seat and handed me my bouquet as Hayes offered his arm.
We turned and faced the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Esteemed guests and friends. I present to you, for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Wilder.”
The string quartet broke into a romantic rendition of an old country tune as Hayes and I headed down the aisle. He came to an abrupt stop halfway through the uppity onlookers and tipped me backward without warning.
I squealed in delight as he dipped me and went in for a kiss. The guests went wild.
It didn’t last nearly as long as I wanted it to. Hayes eased me up, pecked my lips one last time, and escorted me into the house.
Hallie, Mason, and Levi had slipped out and met us in the study as the crowd was dismissed for cocktail hour.
“That was some show,” Hallie said discreetly, just in case Lewis was lurking nearby.
But it didn’t feel like a show. It felt like…It felt like it should have. Natural. A little nerve-racking. But nerves weren’t always a bad thing. Nerves meant doing something unfamiliar.
I imagined this would be exactly how it felt when I did fall in love.
Exhilarating, but safe.
“Mr. Wilder. I was told you wanted to see me.”
The five of us turned at the sound of a man’s voice.
I didn’t recognize him, but from the looks of it, Hayes did.
“Mr. Allen,” Hayes said with a grin as he quickly offered a handshake. “Thanks for coming today.”
“Of course,” the man said. “Your grandfather wasn’t just a client. He was a dear friend.”
“I’d like for you to meet my wife, Catherine,” Hayes said.
I loved a four-letter word as much as the next girl, but the one I hadn’t expected to love was w-i-f-e.
I was Hayes’s wife.
I knew it was coming, but hearing it slip from his lips was shocking all the same. It sounded so natural; not a hesitation or stutter to be found.
“Pleasure to meet you,” I said as I shook the man’s hand. “How were you involved with Walt?”
“Likewise. I was his attorney for ages. The last time we were in this office was for a much sadder occasion. I’m glad to see it hasn’t stopped the joy from coming back. Congratulations.”
An attorney in the study. It sounded like a game of Clue, but it all made sense now. Mr. Allen was the executor of Walt Wilder’s will.
“If you don’t mind, I thought it would be fitting for you to be the witness on our marriage license,” Hayes said rather jovially as he pulled the document from the desk drawer.
Mr. Allen looked pleased. “I’d be honored.” He produced his own pen and scrawled his signature on the witness line.
Hayes shook his hand again. “Thank you.”
“Mr. Allen, if you’d like to join the rest of the guests in the garden for cocktail hour, there are some appetizers being served before dinner,” Hallie said, quickly dismissing the man. She followed him out, along with Mason and Levi, leaving the two of us alone.
“Why did that seem a little calculated?” I asked when we were completely alone.
Hayes smirked. “Lewis can hem and haw all he wants, but no one can argue I’m actually married and meet the criteria to inherit the estate when the signature of the will’s executor is on the witness line.”
A sly smile curled on my own lips. “You’re devious.”
“I learned from the best,” he said as he peered out the large window that overlooked the rose garden.
Guests milled about, but I could sense where Hayes’s gaze landed. Walt’s headstone. It wasn’t lost on me that Mildred’s headstone was visible from where Walt would often sit at the desk. He never wanted to be far from her.
I ached for that kind of love.