Right now, Georgia’s head was spinning, too. Ceremony? Honeymoon suite? Trigger?
“Mom,” she said, attempting to maintain a rational tone in the hope that it would calm the panic rising inside her. “Are you telling me that you married this guy?”
“Honey, when love comes knockin’ on the door, you don’t just open up, you grab hold with both hands and drag it inside.”
Georgia banged her forehead softly against the wall.
“So yes,” Charlotte finally answered her question. “I am now, officially, Mrs. Trigger Branston.”
“His name is really Trigger?”
“Oh, his real name’s Henry,” she told her daughter. “But they call him Trigger ‘cause he’s so quick on the draw.”
“Quick on the draw?” she echoed, fingers crossed that this whole conversation was some kind of bizarre waking dream induced by her own mental and physical exhaustion.
“With his gun,” Charlotte clarified. “He’s a bona fide member of the Cowboy Fast Draw Association and World Fast Draw Association and he’s won all kinds of contests.”
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