Meet Me At The Chapel

Casey stared at Brock’s profile. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Why? Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Heck, no, I don’t think it’s a bad idea. I think it’s a pretty genius idea,” she said with a smile. “Can I let you know?”

“Sure. Offer stands.”

Casey’s smile was short-lived.

“Oh! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” She put her hands on top of her head in disbelief.

The rental truck was knocked on its side.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah looked up from her iPad.

Brock pulled onto the berm on the opposite side of the road from the rental truck.

“Damn.”

“Swear jar!” Hannah yelled.

“Hannah,” Casey said in a stunned, monotone voice. “Would you hold Hercules for me?”

“Stay in the truck and wait for us, okay, baby girl?” Brock pulled his hat off the dash and pushed it onto his head.

Together, they crossed the road. In silence, they both walked around the perimeter of the truck. The back was still locked, but the truck was facing the wrong direction.

“The only thing I can figure is that a twister caught it and spun it ninety degrees. Then for kicks, knocked it on its side.”

Casey stood, shaking her head back and forth, and back and forth. She couldn’t find words. Everything her sister owned, everything her sister cherished, was in that truck. There was a collection of Royal Doulton statues worth thousands, as well as a collection of Lladró figurines, also worth thousands. Taylor had been collecting them since she was a teenager.

“I want to cry,” Casey said quietly. “I really do.”

Brock looked down at her, she saw him in her periphery, and then he took his cell phone out of his pocket and made a phone call. She heard him make arrangements with a friend who had a tow truck made to haul big rigs to come and set the Beast upright and tow it to Helena.

“Thank goodness I took the insurance.” Casey couldn’t stop staring at the rental truck. She’d never seen one from this angle before. It was a bit like looking at a surrealist painting, trying to figure out why people were walking on the ceiling.

“Right?” Brock crossed his arms in front of his body. “My friend Billy will be able to get this right-side up sometime around noon.”

“Thank you.”

They stood together, both looking at the truck without anything else to say about it.

“Are you done looking at it?” the ranch foreman asked her.

Casey sighed. “Yeah. I guess. The damage is done.”

“That’s right.”

The rest of the way into Helena, Casey felt sick to her stomach. Taylor was going to be heartbroken and it was her fault. She was the one who’d had the idea of saving her sister some cash by renting a truck and driving it herself. Taylor had said, repeatedly, that she thought it was best if professional movers brought her things to Montana. But, as she always did, she persisted until she wore Taylor down. And now, all of her belongings were trapped in a toppled rental truck on the side of a desolate Montana highway. Brilliant.

“This is it.” Brock stopped at the end of the driveway of a little Craftsman bungalow.

With a heavy sigh, Casey nodded her head. “Yep.”

“Can I go in and see Penny?” Hannah asked excitedly.

Casey met Brock’s eye before she said, “Not this time, Hannah. Penny has an ear infection.”

“Next time,” Brock added. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear something from Billy.”

“Text me if I don’t answer.”

“Consider it done.”

She stood with the truck door open and mustered a small smile for him. “Thank you for everything, Brock. Seriously. Above and beyond the call of duty.”

He tipped his hat to her, and she interpreted that gesture as a you’re welcome and a thank you, too. She got out of the truck and said goodbye to Hannah and her father.

Her sister was opening the door at the same time Brock was pulling away.

“Casey!” Taylor was holding her baby daughter in her arms.

They embraced tightly, as they always did. They were more than sisters—they were, and always had been, best friends.

“Oh, Tay—she’s even prettier in person.” Casey touched Penelope’s creamy, chubby cheek. “Hi, Penny, you sweet, sweet thing. Your aunt Casey is going to spoil you absolutely rotten! Yes, I am!”

“She’s so fussy right now because she doesn’t feel well.” Taylor kissed her daughter’s warm forehead.

“Poor Penny.” Casey looked at her little niece compassionately.

“I’m so happy to see you, Casey.” Taylor hugged her again. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”

Together they walked up the driveway to the front door of the bungalow. “I’ve missed you. I hate that we don’t live in the same town anymore.”

“Me, too.” Taylor shut the front door behind them. “Let me see if she’ll lie down for her nap. It’ll give us a chance to catch up. She hasn’t slept well for a couple of days, so cross your fingers.”

Casey held up her crossed fingers for her sister to see.

Taylor didn’t reappear for a while. When her sister returned to the living room, she was talking in a quieter voice.

“Okay—she’s down. For how long is debatable! Is it too early for wine?”

“No. Bring it on, sis.” She could use a large glass or two.

Taylor had been diagnosed with the inability to lactate after the birth of her daughter, and the only upside her sister could find was the fact that she had been cleared to drink wine.

Casey sat down at the breakfast bar while her sister got the wineglasses.