“Oh, well, I’m glad,” she said. “I love working at Deerfield.”
“And we love having her there,” Bobbie Jo said.
“If we could get everyone to come into the tent,” an older gentleman said into a mic, drawing everyone’s attention. “The wedding is going to begin in ten minutes.”
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Tarr said, and he guided Briar with a hand on the small of her back.
She went with him easily, flowing with the rest of the wedding guests, and marveling that she had no problem believing Tucker and Bobbie Jo when they said they loved having her work for them at the farm.
She didn’t doubt her abilities as a veterinary technician, and in fact, she knew where her limits were and operated insidethem. But somehow, she didn’t believe it when Tarr told her she was an amazing person.
How can I know I’m a good vet tech and not a good person?she wondered as she took her seat beside the man who had first forced her to this farm for a Thanksgiving meal.
He lifted his arm around her and leaned his head down. “I would love to know what you’re thinking right now,” he whispered in her ear.
“I don’t even know how to sum it up,” she whispered back. “Why does life have to be so confusing?”
Tarr pressed his lips to her temple, the gesture warm and full of compassion. “I don’t know, sweetheart. But I do know that if there’s anyone who can figure it out, it’s you.”
Irritation fired inside her—an emotion she used to aim at Tarr but now reflected back on herself—becauseshewas the one telling herself she wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t good enough, and could never be loved for who she was. She knew those thoughts had roots from her childhood, but they had grown deep, and Briar simply didn’t know how to pluck them out and discard them.
Yet.
thirty-five
Mission Redbay adjusted his collar and told himself it was only a tie. A strip of fabric. A knot he’d redone three times while his cabin sat in afternoon quiet and the clock on the stove advanced toward four o’clock.
He pulled in a steadying breath, because he’d been waiting for this day for months now. Even though he and Kristie had moved the wedding forward, his impatience to have her living here with him had reached a peak weeks ago.
The front door opened, and his granddad walked in. “I told everyone to take their seats,” he said.
And then he’d walked over from the barn, so Mission only had a few minutes to get back over there. He smoothed his hands down the front of his Granddad’s jacket. “All right.”
“Boy,” Granddad said, his eyes bright and his own cowboy hat perched on his head just-so. He didn’t say more, and he didn’t have to. Mission grabbed onto him and hugged him, breathed in the cedar-and-shaving-cream scent that had always belonged to Granddad, and immediately steadied on his feet.
“Good?” he asked.
“Good,” Mission said. “I’m ready.”
He led the way out onto the front porch and automatically looked right toward the Rocky Mountains. He loved the way they waited like witnesses and the Lord’s peace sat like a soft hand on the back of his neck. He breathed, then smiled, because the Hammond Family Farm had always settled him.
Early spring sunlight lay across the front lawn and the still dormant fields, and a faint wind pushed toward him. He kept pace with Granddad, the energy buzz increasing with every step closer to the white tents.
He counted each crunch of gravel under his boots, not to measure the distance, but to keep his nerves from consuming him.
He was ready.You are, he told himself sternly. It’s a few minutes that’s important, and everything else is for show.
No, everything else was for Kristie. She’d made the difficult decision to invite her family, and they’d declined to attend. Mission’s heart beat faster for a moment, then slowed again, which made him feel whiplashed emotionally.
He rounded the back of the stable, the big tents appearing in front of him. Rows of white chairs split by an aisle that extended underneath the canvas, and strings of bulbs glowed against the afternoon sunshine.
They reminded him of bottled stars, and Mission smiled at the imagery in his mind. They weren’t planning to keep their guests outside past dark, as the earlier date had already been tempting Mother Nature to actually snow on their nuptials.
Mission took his place at the altar and hugged his granddad one more time before he bustled off to join Kristie in the barn. Since her father had not come, she’d asked Granddad to walk her down the aisle, and Mission once again tugged at the blasted tie around his throat.
Friends filled almost every seat—Hunter and Molly and their kids, his cowboys and cowgirls from the farm, all of them inclean boots and pressed shirts, Pony Power counselors tucked together like a flock, Poppy and Travis Thatcher with their kids, Tuck and Tarr in jackets that didn’t know what to do with their shoulders, Bobbie Jo and Gerty laughing with Opal, who sat in front of them.
The Whettsteins took up a row, and Mission’s heart squeezed mightily when he caught Deacon beaming at him from the front row, his parents tucked tightly in next to him. Mission nodded to them, his emotions spiraling up and then plummeting toward the earth the way a roller coaster did.
