Chapter 12
Delaney
The dress is white.
Not ivory, not cream, not “champagne” or whatever word bridal shops use to charge extra. Just white. Simple. A-line skirt that hits below my knees, fitted bodice, thin straps. The kind of dress a woman wears when she’s getting married in a backyard under an oak tree instead of a cathedral.
The kind of dress a woman wears when she’s getting married for real.
I stare at it laid out on my bed—our bed after today—and my hands won’t stop shaking.
I never planned to get married. Marriage was a risk. A vulnerability. Another person who could leave, who could die, who could look at me one day and decide I wasn’t worth staying for.
But Daniel won’t leave. He shows up. Every day. In every small way.
The tea he stocks without being asked. The pens he noticed I prefer. The way he pauses outside my door at night like he’s checking I’m still there, still real, still his.
Today I get to show up for him.
A knock makes me jump. “Lanie? Can I come in?”
Kitty. My sister. My reason for everything—ten years of sacrifice and survival and white-knuckled determination.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Come in.”
She slips through the door, and we just look at each other. She’s wearing a soft blue dress that makes her eyes glow, her blonde hair pinned up with little flowers from Ruth’s garden. The mother-in-law she never got to meet.
“You’re not dressed yet,” she says.
“I’m working up to it.”
She crosses the room and picks up the dress, holding it against me. “It’s perfect. You’re going to look beautiful.”
“I’m going to look terrified.”
“Same thing on a wedding day.” She grins, then her expression softens. “Sit down. Let me do your hair.”
I sink onto the edge of the bed, and Kitty moves behind me, her fingers gentle as she works through the tangles.
The role reversal hits me like a punch to the chest. How many times did I do this for her?
Braiding her hair for school, pinning it up for her first dance, styling it for her own wedding just weeks ago.
Now she’s doing it for me.
“You’re going to be a Sutton,” she says. “Like me.”
“God help us both.”
She laughs, but there’s a thickness to it. “Remember when I used to dream about my wedding? You always said you’d be there.”
“I’m here.”
“No.” Her hands still in my hair. “You’re the one getting married. I’m here for you.”
My baby sister, the one I raised, the one I protected, standing behind me on my wedding day. Supporting me instead of the other way around.
“Laney.” Her voice turns serious. “You deserve this. You deserve to be happy. To be first.”
My eyes burn. “Don’t make me cry. I didn’t bring waterproof mascara.”
“I did.” She resumes working on my hair. “Because I know you.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m dressed. Hair pinned up with a few loose pieces framing my face. Minimal makeup because I’ll cry it off anyway. The dress fits like it was made for me.
Kitty stands back, surveying her work. “Perfect.”
“You sure about this?” I ask, and we both know I’m not talking about the dress.
She knows about the plan. Helped arrange it. Miss Maggie’s in on it too—they’ve been sneaking around for days, covering for my early morning absences, making excuses when I came back smelling like horse and covered in arena dust.
Daniel thinks I’m walking from the house. Down the porch steps, across the yard, to the oak tree where he’ll be waiting.
He doesn’t know I’ve been practicing with Captain Winky at dawn. Three days. Two falls. One very patient horse who seems to understand that this matters.
“He’s going to lose his mind,” Kitty says.
“That’s the plan.”
“No, I mean—” She takes my hands. “Laney, when he sees you on that horse... he’s going to lose his mind. In the best way.”
I think about Daniel’s face when he talks about Captain Winky. The way he trusts that horse with his broken parts. The way Captain Winky trusts him back.
“He gave me his horse,” I say. “His space. His trust. I want to meet him on that ground.”
Kitty’s eyes go bright. “God, you two are perfect for each other. Both showing love through completely insane gestures.”
“It’s not insane. It’s just riding a horse.”
“You were terrified of horses a month ago.”
“I’m still terrified.” I squeeze her hands. “But I’m more terrified of not being brave enough to deserve him.”
She pulls me into a hug, careful not to mess up my hair. “You deserve everything,” she whispers. “Everything good. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I hold her tight, then pull back. “Now, help me sneak to the barn without anyone seeing.”
The barn is cool and dim. Captain Winky waits in his stall like he knows exactly what today is.
Maybe he does. Horses are smarter than people give them credit for.
“Hey, boy.” I approach the way Daniel taught me. Let him see me. Let him smell me. Let him decide I’m safe.
His one good eye tracks my movement. His ears flick forward.
“Big day,” I tell him. “You ready?”
He huffs, which I choose to interpret as agreement.
Miss Maggie appears from the tack room, Captain Winky’s saddle over her arm. “There’s my girl. You look beautiful.”
“I look like I’m about to throw up.”
“Wedding day nerves. Perfectly normal.” She winks. “Let’s get this handsome boy ready.”
Together, we saddle Captain Winky. My hands are steadier than I expected. Three days of practice, of falling and getting back on, of learning to trust this animal who has every reason not to trust anyone—have made me braver than I knew I could be.
“Daniel’s out there,” Miss Maggie says as she adjusts the girth. “Looking like he’s about to crawl out of his skin. That boy doesn’t do well with waiting.”
“He’s going to have to wait a little longer.”
She grins. “That’s my girl.”
I lead Captain Winky to the barn door and peek out. The ceremony space spreads before me—the big oak tree draped with simple white fabric, chairs arranged in two sections, flowers everywhere. Ruth’s garden, Kitty told me. Everything from Ruth’s garden.
Both Sutton families are present. Jacob on one side, ramrod straight, his expression unreadable.
Ben on the other, softer somehow, his eyes crinkling when Tom whispers something to him.
Angus sits with Luna, a protective arm around her shoulder.
Henry’s gaze is fixed on his wife, Shay, and their newborn son, Max.
And at the altar—if you can call a spot under an oak tree an altar—Daniel.
My breath catches.
He’s wearing dark pants, white shirt, no tie because this is still a ranch wedding and he’s still Daniel Sutton. His hair is neat for once, his jaw freshly shaved. He looks uncomfortable and beautiful and like every cowboy fantasy I never let myself have.
Ethan stands beside him as best man, saying something that makes Daniel’s jaw tighten. Gabriel hovers nearby, looking young and uncertain.
Everyone is facing the house. Waiting for me to walk down the porch steps.
In less than half an hour, he’ll be my husband.
But right now, I’m going to ride his horse toward him like I’ve been doing it my whole life.
Please, God, don’t let me fall off.
“Ready?” Miss Maggie asks.
I swing up into the saddle. My thighs protest—still bruised from the falls—but I ignore them. Captain Winky shifts beneath me, settling into my weight.
“Ready.”
The music changes. Some acoustic version of a song I don’t recognize, played through speakers Kitty set up this morning.
Everyone turns toward the house.
I nudge Captain Winky forward.
We round the corner of the barn, and no one sees us at first. They’re all looking in the wrong direction, waiting for a bride who isn’t coming from where they expect.
Then someone gasps. Then another.
Daniel turns.
I watch his composure shatter in real time. Confusion first—why is someone on a horse? Recognition second—that’s Captain Winky. And then, as his brain catches up to what his eyes are seeing—
His legendary control cracks. Not a hairline fracture. A complete, devastating break.
His eyes go bright. His jaw works. His hands clench into fists at his sides, then release, like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
He takes two steps toward me before he catches himself. Ethan grabs his arm, says something I can’t hear, but Daniel doesn’t seem to notice. He’s staring at me like I’ve performed a miracle.
Maybe I have.
I keep Captain Winky at a steady walk. My posture isn’t perfect—I know that.
My hands are too tight on the reins, my heels not quite down enough.
But I’m doing it. I’m riding. The woman who was terrified of horses a month ago is riding toward her wedding on the back of a one-eyed gelding who trusts almost no one.
I’ve seen Daniel controlled, furious, passionate, protective. I’ve seen him commanding and gentle and wrecked with desire.
I’ve never seen him undone.
I did that. Me and this horse. We undid Daniel Sutton.
Best decision I ever made.
I halt Captain Winky a few feet from the altar. The whole gathering holds its breath.
Then Daniel is there, his hands reaching up to help me dismount. I swing my leg over and slide down. He catches me like he’s been catching me all along. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You learned to ride.” His voice cracks on the words.
“Seemed important.”
“You—” He stops. Swallows. His eyes are wet, and Daniel Sutton does not cry. “You’re incredible.”
“I know.” I grin up at him. “You going to marry me or what?”
He laughs—wet-eyed and breathless, his hands still on my waist like he can’t bear to let go.
“If you two are done making everyone cry,” Miss Maggie calls from her spot under the oak tree, “we’ve got a wedding to get through.”