Standing under the late afternoon sun, in brand-new jeans and button-downs, with a view overlooking the ranch, I reach over and give my brother a love tap on the shoulder right before his bride starts down the aisle.
Everyone stands to stare at her, but I can’t take my eyes off the brunette in a floral dress. Lower cut, but so long it sweeps the earth, with flowers the same light shade of blue as my shirt. She picked the dress to match my button-down long before I officially asked her to be my wedding date. I know, because she made me send her a photo of the exact shade of “dusty blue” Cecily had the groomsmen buy.
Her eyes meet mine as she elegantly sweeps the fabric around her hips to sit, and a small smile spreads across her painted lips. When the pastor starts speaking, Blair flits away only for a moment before returning to me. That’s where we stay, trapped in a staring contest, throughout the vows.
I spend the entire time thinking about what our wedding might’ve been like when we were younger. Maybe it would’ve been a big event like this, filled with family and friends. Though I don’t imagine Blair would’ve wanted anything extravagant. It could’ve been just us, under the tree out beyond the top hayfields.
Hearing the words “kiss your bride” forces me out of thedaze and back to Blair, who reaches up to dab at the corner of her eye. Feeling the heat of my gaze, she tilts her head to squint at me through the sun’s glare. Only it looks like she’s winking at me, so I wink back.
Everyone cheers for Austin and Cecily, and my fingers press to my lips so I can toss my girl a kiss. The gesture I did before every single bronc ride when we were kids, and again at the rodeo a few weeks ago. Blair’s smile breaks free, and she catches it like an old pro.
While the wedding guests rode to the ceremony site on horse-drawn wagons, the groomsmen—Jackson, Red, and I—naturally showed up on horseback. Untying Vegas from the tree, I spot Blair watching me and beckon her over.
“Ride down with us.” I pat the saddle.
“We can’t both ride this horse—his poor back.”
“Lucky for you, I have a spare.” I point to Austin’s horse. “Aus is gone with his bride. Looks like we need another rider.”
The specks of gold burn up in her eyes, fiery and more full of life than I’ve seen in years. She licks her lips and takes a step toward Vegas, running her hands down his neck.
“You probably want to ride sidesaddle because of your dress, eh?”
Her nose scrunches. “And be uncomfortable while walking at a snail’s pace? I don’t think so. I’ll take the dress off, if I have to.”
When she showed up in town with her fancy clothes and perfectly placed makeup, I was under the impression she had drastically changed over the years. Knowing how wrong I was makes my heart float, and I rush to her side to boost her into the saddle before she hurts herself trying.
Wedged sandals in the stirrups, bare legs, and a long dress bunched around her waist, she’s a beauty. She pets Vegas every chance she gets, and he soaks up the extra attention from her. Side by side, we cross the grassy field and start downthe hill toward the barn, like we have hundreds of times before.
“Fuck, I missed this so much. It’s been too long, and it kills me.” She smooths a hand over her wild hair and closes her eyes for a second to revel in the sun on her face. “This is better than therapy.”
“You can come out here and grab a horse anytime you want.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” she says, stopping outside the stables.
“Serious, Blair. Take any of my horses. Maybe we can even get you one of your own.”
“I don’t have the time for my own horse…but I’ll gladly come riding sometime.”
Jumping down, I reach to help her dismount. Then we slowly walk the alley, until I point to the stall we need to put Vegas in.
A few seconds later, she comes out and nearly mows me over on her way to the tack room.
“Where ya going?” I grab her bicep to stop her. “Filly will commit murder if we show up at the reception with a speck of dirt on us. The ranch hands can clean up after us today.”
With a sigh, she runs a hand through her hair, letting it fall loosely around her shoulders.
“You’re beautiful, Bear.” My fingers find their own way to the top of her dress, and suddenly I’m slipping the fabric edge between my fingers like a plucky guitar string. “So fucking beautiful.”
She blinks up to stare at me just beyond the tips of her thick, dark lashes. A loose lock of hair falls between us, and I push it behind her ear. The wedding emcee’s voice floods the ranch, and Blair gives me one slow kiss before insisting we go partake in the wedding festivities.
We can say we’re taking it slow. Day by day, even. Tellsweet little lies about how we feel, if that’s easiest. But I fell in love with Blair once before, and I had that bliss for years. Now? I’m not falling. That sounds too accidental for what I’m doing. I’m jumping in headfirst, praying she loves my level of crazy and jumps with me.
Denver
(eighteen years old)
I stared down at my socked feet, pressing firmly into the hardwood to send the rocking chair backward. I couldn’t bring myself to look anywhere else. Not at Austin, who was sitting in a chair next to mine, slumped over with his head between his knees, white-knuckling his skull. Not at Jackson, who was staring into fucking space, not bothering to stop the tears falling down his cheeks. Not at Mom, who didn’t look anything like my mom anymore, but a sickly stranger in her bed.
