As the afternoon progressed into evening, Kellen took to the center, glass in hand, signaling for quiet. “I want to thank each of you for being here, for supporting us, and for being an integral part of our journey. To my beautiful wife, Reva, you are my everything. Here’s to a lifetime of love, laughter, and happiness.” Cheers and clinks of glasses filled the room.
The moment everyone had been anticipating arrived as Reva prepared to throw the wedding bouquet. A crowd of hopefuls gathered, giggling and jostling gently. With a graceful arc, the bouquet sailed through the air, landing in the surprised arms of Lila.
Gasps and applause broke out as Lila stood, bouquet in hand, her cheeks flushed with surprise and a hint of embarrassment. Pastor Pete’s voice rang out, warm and booming, “Looks like you’re next, Lila!”
She responded by quickly handing the bouquet to Capri. “Not me,” she corrected. “I hate to disappoint, but marriage is not in my future. I don’t have the time,” she teased.
As the crowd’s chuckles faded into the background, a romantic melody began to play over the speakers, soft and slow, filling the space with an intimate aura. All eyes turned towards the dance floor where Kellen and Reva stood, their hands finding each other’s in a practiced motion. There was a collective intake of breath from those gathered as the newlyweds stepped into the spotlight, the world around them fading away. It was their moment, the bride and groom dance, a symbol of their first steps together in this new journey. The onlookers watched, some with teary eyes, as the couple moved in perfect harmony, their love palpable in the air.
When their dance ended, the Eagles—not the famous rock band, but an ensemble made up of townspeople, including Clancy Rivers and Brewster Findley—were joined on stage by Kellen. With an affectionate wink at his bride, he took his place behind his waiting cello and picked up his bow, positioning it with confidence.
Nick Thatcher approached and offered his hand to Charlie Grace. His wavy dark hair, chiseled jawline, and piercing blue eyes were impossibly charming. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “May I have this dance, Miss Rivers.”
Charlie Grace barely contained her delight. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Aunt Mo picked up little Lucan, who was so tired he could barely keep his head up. “I think I’ll take this little one on home with me if that’s all right?”
Reva gave her shoulder a grateful squeeze, then kissed the top of her son’s head as it rested against Mo’s shoulder.
The night continued with dance, laughter, and an abundance of hugs. Amidst the revelry, Lila and her best friends—Charlie Grace, Reva, and Capri—found a serene spot momentarily isolated from the rest of the guests. There, under the soft glow of string lights, they formed a close circle, hands clasped tightly together, embodying a unity that words could scarcely convey.
Charlie Grace’s voice was soft but filled with emotion. “Reva, this goes without saying, but we’re so ecstatically happy for you and Kellen.”
Lila, her eyes gleaming with tears, added, “Reva, your love story inspires us, reminding us of the beauty God has waiting for each one of us.” She grinned as she wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “And by beauty, I mean I’d be happy with a raise in my paycheck.”
Capri, always the spirited one, squeezed Reva’s hand. “Does Kellen understand that he’s getting a package deal? I mean, we’re still going to meet on Friday nights, right? We’ve built a fortress of memories over cocktails.” She held up her champagne glass. “Here’s to many more!”
Reva, moved by their words, found her voice. “I couldn’t have dreamed of this day without you all by my side. My wedding day is as much a celebration of our enduring friendship as it is about my new beginning with Kellen. You are my heart, my soul sisters.”
They embraced tightly, a silent promise hanging in the air—a pledge of unwavering support, laughter, and love, no matter the paths they would tread.
Suddenly, a loud voice rang out. “Is there a doctor here? We have a medical emergency!”
They all turned to see a crowd forming across the room.
As they rushed across the room to see, Lila found Doc Tillman on the ground. Her hand flew to her chest. “Oh no!”
“I think he’s having a heart attack,” shouted Fleet Southcott. He pushed the crowd back. “Give him room and call 911.”
3
The nearest hospital was in Jackson, a half-hour drive from Thunder Mountain.
Lila paced the cramped waiting room, her hands wringing a tissue until it frayed at the edges. The low murmur of townsfolk filled the air, all huddled in clumps of party dresses and Sunday bests, faces etched with worry. The sterile gray walls, lined with framed pictures of local landscapes, seemed to close in as the clock ticked unbearably slow.
Tillman Strode was a long-time resident of their community and was much loved.
“Never seen Doc look that pale before, not in all my years,” old Mr. Argyle muttered from his corner seat, his voice a gravelly whisper that carried weight in the small space.
Beside him, Carol, the secretary down at the bank, nodded, her eyes rimmed red. “He’s done so much for us all. Who’s gonna look after our animals if something happens to him?” Her question seemed to hang in the air, adding to the thick tension.
Lila moved closer to the group, trying to draw comfort from their proximity. She hugged Betty Dunning’s shoulder, who said, “He was just dancing one minute, and then...” She let her words fade.
Lila understood how she felt. The vivid image of Doc Tillman lying collapsed on the floor was sharply etched in her mind as well.
“He’s a tough one,” Reva reminded, clutching Kellen’s hand tightly. The newlyweds looked ashen; their wedding joy overshadowed by the evening’s turn. “Remember when Doc had the flu, and he set Ernie’s black Lab’s broken leg right there on his kitchen table? He’ll pull through.”
“Yeah, nothing seems to keep him down,” added Capri, trying to muster a smile.
