Chapter 112
Later that evening at my place, Mama’s screaming.
Riley’s laughing.
Free’s concerned we’re behind schedule.
And Ginny’s desperately trying to get me into my dress.
When my phone rings, I gesture them all to quiet down.
“It’s the mayor!” I say.
“Oh, the mayor,” Mama says in hushed tones. “How very formal.”
He says he insists on sending a limo for my wedding party. “To make it look more presentable. Then, hopefully, everyone will forget Logan’s other woman.”
“I don’t think they’ll forget,” I say to Mama when I hang up. “They called her the Darcy heroine all summer.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Mama says. “Daddy said he’s going to make everything right.”
Ginny nods. “Macey, you look so beautiful.”
“Remember how much Logan loved you in that dress.” Mama smiles at the floor-length green bridesmaid dress I’ve converted into a wedding gown. “He nearly gave himself away that day.”
“It was another chapter in your love story,” Ginny gushes.
“And you getting married will ease the pain of the legend of Darcy coming to a close.” Mama’s voice is tinged with sadness. “Our favorite ghost, Macey. It just doesn’t seem fair that she’ll never get out, does it?” She perks up. “At least you’re not cursed.”
I’m too happy to be irritated.
“Thanks, Mama.”
I finger the strand of pearls around my neck, the ones from Logan’s mama.
“Aren’t those lovely?” Mama nods at the pearls. “They fit you, Mace.”
I swallow. “I do love them.”
They mean so much to me already, because they mean so much to the Wild family. Logan told me how his mother showed him the necklace when he introduced her to Gigi, and he said he’d been waiting to give them to me ever since.
As soon as Daddy shows up at my duplex, Mama insists on a toast. When we all protest, she starts screaming, “With sweet tea, of course, with sweet tea!”
“To our beautiful daughter Macey as she embarks on a new chapter of her life.” Mama wipes a tear from her eye. “I know you and Logan will make each other very happy.”
It’s a perfect mother-daughter moment until she adds—
“Macey, stop playing with your hair. I’ve told you once, and I’ve told you a hundred times, it’s just not pretty, and a beautiful girl like yourself. I bet you Logan doesn’t love you for your split ends.”
Then she reaches into her bag. “I’ve brought a surprise! Instead of waiting until the chapel, we agreed you could put this on now.”
She pulls out the Ms. Bennet bonnet.
“George has been entrusted to make sure Logan wears the Mr. Darcy cowboy hat, so don’t you worry.”
Mama reaches over and helps me tie on the bonnet.
And I feel…weird having it on my head. Like it doesn’t quite fit right. I tug it this way and that way, and this way and that way, until finally Mama shouts at me to keep my hands at my sides before I tear the bonnet by mistake.
So I leave it be. But it’s itchy and hot underneath, and my hair wants out.
We pile into the limousine and make our way down Main Street. When we pull up to The Cowherd, I smile at the five horses tied up to the fencepost.
“Logan said he and Blake and his brothers would show up to the ceremony on horseback,” I say.
Daddy and I are the last ones out of the limo, and I stop him before we walk inside the bar.
“Daddy, are you going to be all right? There’s a lot of alcohol in there, and I know you’re emotional right now…”
“You’re my baby girl all grown up,” he says to me as he gives me a kiss. “And maybe I finally am, too.”
I give him a hug. “I’m proud of you.”
Dozens of flashbulbs nearly blind me as Daddy and I start down the aisle. I try not to blink because I know that won’t make for a pretty picture, but I can hardly make out Logan at the altar.
“I assumed this would be small,” I whisper to my father as we’re waylaid by a reporter begging for a still shot of us halfway through the walk. “It’s so last-minute. However did they fill the chapel?”
“Everyone in the damn room seems to have a camera,” Daddy whispers back as he poses with an awkward smile for the cameraman. “And there are a lot of local reporters. I think the mayor outdid himself.”
We finally get the go-ahead to start moving again, and Daddy picks up the pace considerably. “Let’s get you there, darlin’.”
I glance to the right of the chapel, back into the darkest corner of the room, where two bright eyes get my attention.
I slow down and smile. Mr. Bingley somehow found a way to be present.
His first wedding when he wasn’t locked up in the liquor room.
I blow him a kiss, and he opens his mouth in a silent meow.
Daddy hustles me forward again. “Come on now.”
Skip waves as I pass him and gives me the thumbs-up. “We’re rooting for you, Macey. Free that ghost!”
I try to tell him to shut up, but Daddy pulls me along so fast that I’m standing face to face with Logan before I know it.
He looks so handsome. His green tie highlights the hint of emerald in his eyes, and it matches my dress exactly. I love the way his hair is styled, and I have to stop myself from knocking the Mr. Darcy cowboy hat off his head to get a better look.
Logan inhales as he catches my wrist with his hand and leans in. “You look so gorgeous. Despite that God-awful bonnet.”
I break into a laugh.
He leans even closer to whisper, “Every time I see you in this dress, I want to rip it off you.”
“Remember to meet me at the bar afterward,” I say in his ear. “I have a feeling the crowd will be crazy.”
“Don’t worry. I’m never losing you again.”
I try to focus on the moment, but Lord, this bonnet is so freaking itchy. I resist the urge to scratch at my head like an animal and smile up at the reverend.
“We’re here to celebrate this man”—Reverend Sands gestures to Logan—“And this woman,” he says as he nods at me. He gives a wry smile. “We were supposed to be witnessing a different union today, between this same man”—again he turns to Logan—“but not this woman…”
Logan glares at him. “Got it. The whole town’s got it. Let’s move it forward to what’s actually happening.”
The reverend bows, but before he can continue, my father stands up.
“That’s enough,” he says. “I was going to wait until after my daughter had her moment, but it looks like some things have a timeline of their own.”
He walks to the altar and asks Reverend Sands to step aside. And then, in a strong voice and with his head held high, my father tells the truth. The whole truth. About himself and his mistakes, and the way he hurt his wife and his children and even the women he hooked up with in the past.
He tells the town what Logan did for the woman he loved and how my father wishes that someday he could hope to be half the man his about-to-be son-in-law already is.
“Holy. Cowherd Whiskey,” Blake says loudly from behind Logan. “That’s a good dang reason for your crazy summer, Wild.” He slaps Logan on the back.
Mr. Wild is crying by the time Daddy finishes his confession. The entire chapel stands and applauds when Mama rises from her pew, puts her arm around Daddy, and leads him back to the front row.
I catch Skip’s eye, and he winks at me.
I smile back at him.
Now that the whole Gigi situation is out of the way, the reverend turns serious. I pull at my bonnet one last time, swearing to myself I can handle the itchiness for the next thirty minutes.
Logan’s gaze goes to my hand on the strings of the bonnet. And Reverend Sands has just started the service when Logan interrupts him.
“Sorry, but I need a minute with my fiancée.”
The gasps through the chapel are deafening.
“Is he going to back out?” Mrs. Rattles screeches. “Again?”
“Is he having cold feet?” someone else shouts.
Logan puts his arm firmly around me and turns us until our backs are to the crowd.
“Here’s the thing, baby,” he says in a low voice. “I’m not Darcy, and you’re not Elizabeth.”
“But you’re my real-life Mr. Darcy.” I squeeze his arm. “This is better than the romantic stories I read about my whole life.”
He takes my hand and kisses it. “And you outdo any fantasy I’ve ever had, hands down. But our love story is no fairy tale. It’s flawed, and the road’s been bumpy, and it’s not for the faint of heart. It’s real. Like us.”
Holy Jane Austen.
He’s freaking right.
For the first time since I put on my dress today, I completely relax.
I look up until my gaze meets his. “So even if you are my Mr. Darcy symbolically, you’re not Mr. Darcy. And I’m not Ms. Bennet. You’re my Logan Wild, and I’m your Macey Henwood.”
“Exactly. So can we ditch the hat and bonnet?” he asks me. “I’ll wear it if you really want me to. But you look like you’re about to rip yours off your head, and I don’t think we need them. I think they’re holding us back.”
I’m already untying the irritating knot of the strap under my chin. In less than five seconds, the bonnet’s in my hand, and I turn and toss it into the crowd.
People scream, my mother loudest of all, when the bonnet drops right into her lap.
“Macey, no! You finally met your Mr. Darcy,” she shouts. “Don’t throw it all away! You need the bonnet and hat on your heads, or else you and Logan can’t be the soul mates!”
Logan’s cowboy hat sails through the air right after. It lands at Skip’s feet.
Skip laughs. “I think these two might be the only ones who know what they’re doing. They’re writing their own love story, not following somebody else’s. Wasn’t that the real point behind Jane Austen’s novels?”
Mama glares at him as the whole room says in unison, “Skip, shut up.”
I wink at Skip as Logan and I turn back to Reverend Sands.
“We’re all set,” Logan says to him. “Please continue.”
Reverend Sands hustles along quite nicely, and before I know it, Logan and I are exchanging our rings.
I smile up at Logan as I slide the bull ring onto his finger and am surprised at the wetness on his cheeks.
“It looks good,” I say to him softly.
“Perfect,” he says.
Reverend Sands pronounces us husband and wife, and he cheers along with everyone else when Logan picks me up off the ground and kisses me silly.
Mama cries, and Mrs. Rattles complains loudly about her terrible luck in losing her daughter’s July fourth wedding date to a man who stole her day and then switched brides.
We face the crowd as Reverend Sands says, “Best wishes to the newlyweds!”
A loud meow follows, and Mr. Bingley comes out of his hiding place and brushes past my legs. I pick him up in one hand and keep my other hand tight in Logan’s.
But before we can take even one step down the aisle, Logan’s father calls out, “Bull!! He broke free! Holy cripes—we’ve got to get him!”
He jumps out of his seat and runs down the aisle ahead of us.
“Somebody help him!” Daddy yells. “That’s his bull on the loose!”