“Oh, you have no idea.” She flipped her hair with a dramatic flourish. “Everyone keeps telling me I’m glowing. Like, no, Zara, that’s just highlighter and a whole lot of stress.”
I laughed. It’s rusty, but real.
Sheryn eyed my hair. “Katy did that?”
“She couldn’t help herself.”
“You might be the most glamorous ex-prisoner I’ve ever met. Outshining me, even.” She gave her hair a shake. Her curls were a little wild, but I knew better. Once Sheryn got done up, shetransformed.
She pulled out of the lot. “So, you haven’t changed your mind about being my bridesmaid, right?”
I kept my eyes on the prison growing smaller in the distance, until that wordbridesmaidlanded. I turned to her, full-body and baffled. “Wait,what?When did we?—?”
She groaned. “Are you kidding me? Maya! The calls? TheI-will-hunt-you-down-and-drag-you-to-a-dress-fittingmessages?”
Oh. Right. The prison phone calls I dodged when I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing about a life I wasn’t part of anymore.
Sheryn rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re in. No backsies.”
I propped my elbow on the door, my fingers at my temple. “Alright, fine. But if you put me in something ugly, Iwillriot.”
Sheryn burst out laughing. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re gonna look hot as hell.”
We drove west, heading for a town called Buffaloberry Hill. The miles unspooled ahead, the road carving through open country, the fields giving way to rolling pastures.
“This is almost the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness,” I said, taking it all in.
“Yup. And you’re gonna love this town,” Sheryn declared, practically glowing as we passed the sign.
Welcome to Buffaloberry Hill. Where every heart has a home.
“I’ve got a feeling it’s already better than Billings,” I quipped.
“Wow, the enthusiasm is overwhelming,” she snarked, throwing an elbow my way.
My eyes swept the land beyond. It’s rancher country. I could tell right away. A place where life moved with the seasons, where fences ran longer than city blocks, and the smell of turned earth lived in the bones of the town. Weatheredbarns dotted the pastures. Tractors rolled down dirt roads. No rush, just the rhythm of land and labor.
There was something about this place—an easy kind of warmth that made room for everyone. But I kept that to myself. No point getting attached. I wasn’t staying.
“There!” Sheryn pointed ahead. “That’s where the wedding is!”
She didn’t just say it. Shesangit.
I followed her gaze as we approached a rustic wooden arch with a sign swaying idly in the breeze.
The Lazy Moose.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured as she slowed, my eyes sweeping over the entrance and the almost never-ending stretch of land beyond.
“The ceremony and dinner will be way back inside,” Sheryn explained. “The backdrop is the Rockies. I could never hope for a more perfect venue.”
“I can’t wait,” I said, though nervous energy thrummed beneath my words. I hadn’t seen civilization, let alone a wedding, in four years.
Sheryn shot me a look, sensing it maybe. “It’ll be amazing.”
I let myself believe her.
We kept driving.
