Meet Me At The Chapel

“Red or white?” Taylor asked her from the open refrigerator.

“Either—as long as it’s not too dry.”

Taylor held up a bottle for her to see. “How about this?”

Casey gave her the “okay” sign; generous portions of wine were poured and the two of them moved to the cozy family room next to the kitchen. Taylor immediately coaxed Hercules onto her lap, and the micro-poodle didn’t hesitate to abandon her owner for a novel lap.

“Traitor,” Casey said to her canine companion.

“Here’s to a great summer.” Taylor touched her glass to hers.

“To a great summer.” She took several large gulps of the wine. Taylor hadn’t even asked her about the rental truck.

Her sister curled her legs to the side, leaned into the couch cushion and smiled happily at her. “I am so happy to see you.”

“You may not feel that way in a minute.”

Taylor’s eyebrows dropped and her pretty blue eyes registered confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Casey downed the rest of her wine. One of her most intense childhood memories was the time that she decapitated Taylor’s favorite Barbie doll and then flushed the head just to see if it would indeed flush. It had. And Taylor had gone absolutely crazy-town ballistic on her and then stopped speaking to her for a month. Granted, they were kids when that happened. But then again, this was much worse than decapitating Barbie. Much worse.

Chapter Four (#ulink_dc1178ea-99b5-5443-a75f-52b24b7213f9)

Her sister’s reaction to the news that her belongings were trapped in a tipped-over truck on the side of the road was not at all what she had anticipated. Taylor wasn’t angry. Taylor wasn’t looking to blame her. Instead, her sister was simply grateful that Casey and Hercules were okay. Taylor had always had a flair for the dramatic, and this change in her was unexpected, but it was a change for the better. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a mother now; or perhaps it was because she had already lost one of the most valuable gifts she had ever been given—Penelope’s twin brother, Michael, had died soon after he was born. Casey hadn’t experienced it, but she didn’t have to experience something to understand that losing a child, an infant, could change a person forever.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us? Clint and I both want you to stay,” Taylor asked her as they walked together along the brick walkway that led to the driveway.

She’d been in Montana for a week already, and so much had happened: the Beast had been towed into town, her travel trunk and Taylor’s boxes had been recovered and Clint had arrived home with his arm in a sling and loaded up on pain medication. According to the doctors in Texas, Clint’s healing time would be roughly a month or two, but he wouldn’t be fit to get back on a bull. He was grounded for the entire summer, at least.

Casey, who was holding her niece in her arms, was too busy nuzzling Penny’s sweet-smelling neck to pay full attention to her sister. “Mmm, you have that new baby smell, Penny.” She hugged her niece, not wanting to let her go. Casey smiled at her sister. “Babies! They always smell so good. I wish I could bottle this smell and take it with me.”

“Casey! Please, stop ignoring me. You came all the way to Montana to be with Penny and me, and I feel like deep down inside you think that we don’t want you here because Clint is home. And that’s not the case at all.”

Casey smooched her niece all over her face one last time before she said, “Trade.”

Taylor frowned at her as they traded babies—her sister handed over Hercules and she handed over Penny.

“I don’t think you’re kicking me out, Tay. I know you want me to stay. I know Clint is sincere when he says that he’ll be happy to have me staying on his couch for three months, but I’m telling you, it’s gonna wear real thin by the end of four weeks. Trust me. He’s an active guy and now he’s stuck with his arm in a sling when he should be out earning points. Your husband is going to want to sit on his couch and watch TV, in his tighty-whities, whenever the mood strikes.”

Her sister didn’t respond for a second or two, because Taylor knew she was right.

“I’ll come and visit all the time. I’ll be here on a moment’s notice if you need me. Nothing’s changed.”

For the last week, her sister had been debating her choice to stay in Brock’s loft apartment with her. Taylor had her own agenda: she either wanted her to stay with her or stay with their aunt Barb and uncle Hank at Bent Tree Ranch. Basically, anywhere besides Brock’s ranch.

Taylor’s eyes had a watery sheen and Casey knew that her sister was upset to see her go. “Look—I know you don’t like the idea that I took Brock up on his offer, but it really is for the best. His place is closer to Helena than Bent Tree. And I love the idea of being able to ride anytime I want. Brock says he has a palomino mare who’s getting barn sour. I’m actually going to be doing him a favor by riding her this summer.”

Her sister wiped under her left eye with her pinky. “I know how much you want to ride again.”

This was Taylor’s way of giving in to the inevitable.

“Come here and give me another hug.” Casey hugged her sister again, and then kissed baby Penelope’s chubby hand.

“I want one,” she told her sister of her niece.

“It’s the best hard work I’ve ever done,” said Taylor.

Casey opened the door to the light blue vintage VW Bug sitting in the driveway. She paused before getting in the driver’s seat.

“And Taylor...I’m perfectly ready to like your husband very much.”

Taylor beamed at her with pleasure. “He’s a good one, right?”

Casey nodded as she got into the blue Bug and then put Hercules in his new, less fancy dog carrier for safe traveling. She put the key in the ignition, cranked the engine, then rolled down the window.

“Thanks for loaning me your car, Tay.”

After her divorce, Taylor had sold her BMW, left her executive job at the bank, put her stuff in storage and then drove this very Bug from Chicago to Montana. It was on that trip, a trip where she had ridden a portion of the Continental Divide Trail on horseback, that she met her husband, Clint.

“Now you won’t be stuck,” Taylor said to her. “That car brought me a lot of luck. Maybe it will be lucky for you, too.”

Casey backed out of the driveway with a sense of anticipation and excitement that was making her stomach feel a bit queasy. It felt as if she were heading off to her own adventure, much like her sister had last year. She waved her hand, tooted the horn and shouted one last “I love you” to her sister and niece before Casey set her course for Brock McAllister’s ranch. She had the distinct feeling that this summer was going to be one of the best summers of her life. And she couldn’t wait for it to start!

* * *

Casey slowed her speed in order to take the bumps in the dirt and gravel drive to Brock’s ranch. The heavy rain from the storm had deepened the potholes, which made it difficult to navigate in the VW bug. Brock, she noticed, had already gone a long way toward clearing the debris; stacks of large branches dotted the side of the road every hundred feet or so. As the house came into view, Casey had the strangest feeling in her gut. She felt like she belonged there. Whatever lingering doubt she had in her mind about her choice to stay in Brock’s barn loft studio apartment vanished. She was in the right place, at the right time, and doing exactly what she was meant to do.

Brock was on the roof repairing shingles when he heard the distinctive sound of an old school VW coming up the drive.

Casey.

He stood upright, wiped the sweat off his neck with the bandana from his back pocket and then stared at the end of the driveway, waiting to catch the first glimpse of Casey as she arrived. He had seen her once over the last week, briefly, when he had picked up her trunk from her sister’s house and brought it back to the ranch. He didn’t understand it, really, but he had actually missed her. He had missed her. And, perhaps even more important, Hannah had missed her, too.

He waved his hand in the air so she would see him. At the same time Casey was waving her hand out the driver’s window, Brock heard the slam of the screen door and the pounding of his daughter’s feet on the wood planks of the porch. Hannah had been hyped up all day in anticipation of Casey’s arrival. Right behind Hannah was Lady, barking and wagging her tail.

Normally, he didn’t like to have a job interrupted once he started, but now seemed like a good time to take a break. He climbed down the ladder and followed his daughter and dog to where Casey had parked her car.

“Don’t strangle her, Hannah.” Brock laughed at how tightly Hannah was hugging Casey around the neck.

Brock watched as Casey made a fuss over his daughter, and then squatted down to hug Lady. A flush of excitement and happiness had turned her pale skin a pretty shade of light pink. In the sunlight, the reddish freckles on her face and the red of her thick hair pulled back into a ponytail were so striking. And then there were her eyes. So wide and so green—he always had to remind himself not to stare.

“You’ve really put a dent in it!” Casey said about the progress he had made with the cleanup.

“I’ve been hammering away at it. Little by little.” Brock was glad that it was his turn to greet Casey.

She smiled at him with that open, friendly smile of hers. It had been an awfully long time since a woman had smiled at him like that—no reservation, no pretense or judgment, just open and friendly. That smile was a magnet for him and he realized that now—by the simple fact that he was standing down here instead of still working up on the roof.

“Do you want to start getting settled in?”