Chapter 33
Kelly
The morning of my wedding begins exactly the way my life usually does.
In chaos.
Not gentle, romantic chaos either—the kind you see in movies where everything magically comes together in the end.
Nope. This is real-life chaos.
My hair refuses to cooperate. The curls the stylist insisted would look “effortless and vintage” have somehow turned into something between a frizz cloud and a thunderstorm.
The flowers delivered to the cabin are the wrong shade of white—apparently there are about twelve different varieties of white roses and somehow I ordered the wrong one.
The caterers call to say they’re stuck behind a logging truck halfway up the mountain road.
And worst of all—I cannot find one of my shoes.
“My shoe!” I gasp, hopping awkwardly across the bedroom floor of the little cabin where I’ve been getting ready. “Oh my God, I just had it!”
Trying to bend over in this dress is impossible.
The gown is ivory silk cut in a soft 1920s silhouette that skims over my curves and falls straight down to the floor in rippling layers.
Tiny pearl buttons trail down the back, and delicate lace panels frame the neckline and sleeves.
The sleeves themselves are sheer and floaty, brushing my wrists like whispers.
It’s simple.
Elegant.
Perfect for a spring morning wedding on a mountain.
And somehow it makes me feel both beautiful and completely terrified.
Right now, it mostly makes me feel stuck.
“I swear I’m losing my mind,” I mutter, lifting the hem just enough to peer under the bed.
Nothing.
“Don’t worry, Mom! I got it!”
Evan bursts into the room like a small tornado.
He’s dressed in linen pants and a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders hanging loosely from his shoulders. His hair is neatly combed for once, and his sneakers have even been wiped clean.
For a moment, I just stare at him.
My baby.
Who suddenly looks so grown up.
He drops to his knees, reaches under the bed, and triumphantly pulls out my missing shoe.
“Here!”
He holds it up like a prize.
“You look nice, Mom!”
Before I can respond, he darts out again, already chasing whatever adventure awaits outside.
I laugh softly, pressing my hand to my chest.
“I’m so glad he’s happy,” I murmur.
“Hey, Kels?” Thatcher’s voice drifts in from the doorway.
I turn.
My brother is leaning against the frame with his arms folded across his chest, one shoulder propped casually against the wood like he’s just wandered in by accident.
But the look on his face gives him away.
His brows lift slowly as his eyes sweep over me from head to toe. For a second he doesn’t say anything at all.
Just stares.
“Yeah?” I ask nervously, smoothing my palms down the sides of the dress.
He exhales a low whistle, and something that looks suspiciously like pride fills his gaze.
“Whoa, sis.”
A grin spreads across his face, bright, sincere, and just a little emotional.
“You look amazing,” he says, shaking his head like he’s still processing it. “Ready to get hitched?”
I glance down at the gown again, fingers brushing the soft ivory silk as it drapes over my hips and falls in shimmering folds to the floor.
I never would have picked something like this for myself.
The vintage cut, the delicate lace, the way the fabric hugs my curves before flowing loose around my legs—it’s elegant in a way that feels almost unreal.
But when J.T. surprised me last week by taking me dress shopping in town, he refused to let me talk myself out of trying things.
“You’re trying everything,” he’d said, planting those big hands on his hips while the poor boutique owner watched with wide eyes.
It had been unconventional.
A little bullheaded.
Very J.T.
But I didn’t mind one bit.
In fact, I loved it.
He sat in the little velvet chair in the corner while I stepped out in dress after dress, his big frame looking hilariously out of place among the mirrors and delicate racks of silk and lace.
And when I stepped out wearing this one—the room went completely silent.
J.T.’s jaw literally dropped.
He just stared at me like I’d knocked the breath out of him.
Then he stood up, crossed the room in three long strides, and turned slowly toward the woman at the counter.
“We’ll take that one,” he said simply.
No hesitation or discussion.
Just certainty.
The memory makes my lips curve softly now.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, lifting my gaze back to Thatcher. “I think I am.”
He steps into the room and closes the door behind him.
“You nervous?” he asks.
I let out a shaky laugh.
“Terrified.”
“That sounds about right.”
Outside the cabin window, I can hear the soft hum of voices drifting across the property. Chairs being arranged. Laughter. The distant sound of the swans calling from the pond.
Seventy-five people.
That’s what J.T. and I agreed on.
No huge production.
No giant bridal party.
Just family and the people who actually matter.
Evan and Maddox are already sitting together near the front.
The thought makes my chest feel warm.
Maddox insisted Evan sit beside him.
“Kid’s family now,” he said with a shrug.
My parents—Thea and Marcus McCrae—are right beside them.
J.T.’s parents are gone, but he told me once they would have liked me. I carry that thought with me today like a quiet blessing.
Thatcher watches me for a moment.
“Are you sure about this guy?” he asks.
I snort softly.
“You sound like Pop.”
“Pop threatened to drown him in the pond if he hurt you.”
“That sounds accurate.”
Thatcher’s expression softens.
“But seriously.”
His voice drops.
“You okay?”
And suddenly the nerves rush back.
Because the truth is this whole thing started for reasons that weren’t exactly romantic.
Security.
Protection.
A way to keep Mike and his mess far away from me and Evan.
In the beginning, marrying J.T. felt like building a fortress.
But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about safety. And it started being about him.
Truth is, I wasn’t expecting any of this.
Not the dress.
Not the wedding.
And definitely not him.
When Mike did what he did—when he emptied our accounts, disappeared with a girl apparently young enough to still be sneaking into bars with a fake ID, and left me standing in the wreckage—I honestly thought my life had collapsed in on itself.
I remember sitting in the kitchen of my old house after it all came out. Evan asleep in the next room. The house too quiet. The future stretching out in front of me like one long, empty road.
I didn’t think anyone cared.
Didn’t think anyone would step in.
Then J.T. showed up. Not with speeches or pity. Just him—solid and immovable like the mountain itself.
At first, it was protection. A kind of fierce, practical safety that wrapped around me and Evan before I even realized I needed it.
But somewhere along the way, it became something else.
Something deeper.
What surprises me the most is how steady he makes me feel. The way his hand settles at the small of my back like it belongs there. The way he watches Evan—not politely, not carefully—but like the boy already belongs to him. Like protecting him is the most natural thing in the world.
And the way he looks at me?
God.
It’s like I’m something rare. Something precious. Something his.
I don’t feel like a burden with him. Not like a woman who got dumped for something better.
If you’d asked me five years ago if I’d ever end up marrying J.T. Lawrence, I would’ve laughed myself silly.
That big, intimidating mountain man?
The millionaire developer with shoulders like a lumberjack and a reputation that made half the town nervous?
Interested in a curvy little sawmill girl like me?
No way. Not in a million years.
And I would’ve been wrong.
Thank God.
I take a slow breath, smoothing my hands over the silk of my dress as the realization settles deep in my chest.
“I didn’t expect this,” I admit quietly.
Thatcher tilts his head.
“What?”
My voice softens.
“Falling in love.”
For a moment he just studies me.
Then my brother smiles.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “That’ll do it.”
He pulls me into a tight hug.
“You deserve this, Kels.”
My throat tightens.
“Thanks.”
A knock comes at the door.
“It’s time!”
The walk to the pond feels dreamlike.
The mountain air is warm and fragrant with pine and wildflowers. The late afternoon sunlight spills across the clearing, turning everything golden.
J.T.’s backyard slopes gently down toward the pond where the ceremony has been set up.
Simple wooden chairs form rows along the grassy shore. Soft white ribbons flutter from the ends of each row, tied with sprigs of mountain laurel and tiny wildflowers gathered from the property.
Lanterns hang from low tree branches, their glass catching the sunlight.
The pond itself is still and glassy, reflecting the surrounding pines and the blue ridge of the mountains beyond.
And gliding quietly across the water—the swans.
They move slowly together, their white feathers glowing against the deep green reflection of the trees.
People turn as I approach.
Friends from the mill.
Couple of men from J.T.’s company.
Neighbors from town.
Friendly faces that have been part of my life for years.
But I barely see them.
Because at the end of the aisle—he’s standing there.
J.T.—my soon to be husband.
He’s tall and solid in a gray linen suit that barely contains the breadth of his shoulders. His eyes are a deep emerald green that matches the mountains behind him.
His hair and beard are neatly trimmed, the silver threaded through it glints in the sunlight. His big hands are clasped loosely in front of him.
But it’s like he knows I’m coming because his gaze locks onto mine the moment I step into view.
Then everything else fades away.
The mountains.
The guests.
The swans gliding silently behind him.
All of it disappears.
There’s just him.
Looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth seeing.
The chaos of the morning melts away.
The doubts.
The nerves.
Even the complicated reasons that started all of this.
Because standing here now, I know the truth.
Yes, I might have started this marriage because I needed safety.
Because I needed security for me and Evan.
But there was never going to be anyone else.
Not after J.T. offered me an indecent proposal that one fateful night.
Not after the way he looks at me now.
Not after the way he loves me and my son.
Because J.T. Lawrence isn’t just the man waiting at the end of this aisle.
He’s the man I love.