“But it could have gone the other way too, right? You could have married someone you didn’t get along with at all, someone totally wrong for you.” Beau just couldn’t believe that anyone who tried would end up that happy if they met and married the same day.
“Not really. I mean, Dr. Lachele—the woman who runs the company—is a professional. She has a perfect success rate, and the evaluation she does on her clients is intense. I spent an entire day with her, and so did Taryn. There’s always a possibility that it wouldn’t work out, I guess, but so far, she’s been successful.” Drew sounded confident in the woman who had matched him and Taryn, and that confidence bled into Beau’s thoughts.
Maybe this could work. The thought scared Beau a little. He was expecting to find out that Drew and Taryn were a fluke, and that alone would talk him out of the crazy thoughts he’d been having since he’d spoken to Lily. Now he was actually seriously considering signing up for Matchrimony. The thought hadn’t left the back of his mind, haunting him like Shayla’s memory, but he’d written it off as just a weird idea that would pass. This conversation was evidence that it obviously hadn’t.
“It does sound crazy, but I’m not going to lie—dating and the rodeo don’t really mix. As insane as it sounds, I actually think it might be a good idea for me. I’ve been in a rut, man. I haven’t been able to stay on a bull since I was home. Something needs to change, and this is the only thing that makes sense to me.” Beau couldn’t believe he was admitting all this to his friend, but who else would he talk to? Anyone else would think he’d lost his mind. He didn’t even want to think about what Josh would say.
“Honestly, man, there aren’t a lot of things in my life that I would recommend other people do, but signing up for Matchrimony is something I know would help anyone who could put their trust in Dr. Lachele. I don’t know how she does it, but I’m so glad I took a chance on her.”
“Well, that’s a glowing recommendation if I’ve ever heard one. I think I’m sold, Drew. I can’t keep living this lonely life. As much as I never thought I’d say this, I want a wife.” Beau’s heart clenched as the familiar clip of Shayla played in his mind. Her blonde hair flowing in the wind, hand hanging out the window, smile lighting up his world.
Beau may have let the only girl he’d ever loved walk out of his life, but he was starting to realize that didn’t mean he had to suffer forever. If anyone could help him find love again, it sounded like this Dr. Lachele lady could. He trusted Drew, and Drew trusted her, and that had to be good enough for right now. All he knew was that he had to do something. He couldn’t keep pushing everyone away. Plus, he needed another eight-second ride.
“That’s what I’m talking about, man. I know exactly what you mean about being lonely, and I know you won’t regret this.” Drew was obviously pumped for him. The excitement in his voice was easy to read.
“So, how do I get ahold of this Dr. Lachele?” Beau asked.
“I’ll text you her contact info. Do me a favor though, Beau. Don’t wait to call her. Don’t procrastinate this. You deserve to be happy, and whether you believe that or not, it’s true. I know Dr. Lachele will help you find the right girl for you. Call her today if you can.” Drew’s tone sounded a lot like Josh’s the night he’d called Beau out about being hung up on Shayla. This time, Beau had a solution, so he didn’t become as frustrated as he had when Josh had talked to him few weeks ago.
Beau looked out the big picture window in his living room. From there, he could see most of his ranch down in the valley below. He’d moved to northern Nevada after he’d joined the PBR almost six years ago, and he wondered what it would be like to have a family there. He’d never had anyone else around to keep him company besides Josh and the other hands who worked for him. He didn’t realize until just then how much he craved the presence of a woman. “I’ll call her. Trust me, there’s nothing holding me back now. I’m ready for this.” Or at least he’d keep telling himself that until he was at the altar with the woman he’d call his wife. If there was one thing Beau was good at, it was talking himself into doing crazy things. No one in their right mind would get on a bull, yet he did it almost every single day. He knew he could do this too.
Their call ended, and seconds later, his phone buzzed with a text from Drew. A new contact appeared in their message thread: Dr. Lachele Simpson. Beau clicked on the name and pressed on her number. There was no going back now.
Five
Tears rolled down Scarlett’s cheeks, and no matter how many times she told herself she was doing the right thing, they wouldn’t stop. She knew telling her parents wouldn’t go over well, but she never expected them to make personal attacks.
“When are you going to grow up, Scarlett?” Her mother hadn’t yelled or screamed, or even seemed surprised. She’d just asked her blankly, like she was talking to a lost cause. It hurt.
“You can’t just float through life and act on every single whim you have, Scarlett. This is nuts. Why would you ever think marrying a complete stranger would be a good idea?” Her father seemed a little more surprised than her mom, but he didn’t try to hide his contempt for her decision. It was clear how disgusted he was by the thought. His poor reactions to the television roles she had accepted seemed like he was impressed compared to his reaction to this news.
Every time Scarlett had tried to explain herself, her mother had interrupted and said, “Oh, let me guess. It just feels right,” accompanied by the most dramatic eye roll Scarlett had ever seen. She was surprised that her mom’s eyes had even been able to roll back around to the front of her head.
After an hour of being lectured and insulted without even being able to get one word in, Scarlett had left her parents’ house in tears. The opinion her parents held of her was now crystal clear. She had known they weren’t happy with her choices, but she hadn’t fully realized the depth of their disappointment in her until that night, and it had been harder to accept than she’d anticipated. Why was it so hard not to care what her parents thought about her?
The hardest part was, she knew exactly what her parents wanted her to be—and she could do it. She had the talent and the beauty. She could easily have put on that costume, tried out for the roles they’d wanted, put on a pretty smile, and walked the red carpet, but she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she just let herself become what they wanted her to be.
She saw the masks they wore even in front of each other, and she didn’t ever want to be like them. So why did it rip her heart out when they were disappointed in her? She told herself before she went over that she wouldn’t care what they thought, but there she was. Maybe no matter how horrible my parents treat me, part of me will always want their approval. She couldn’t say that all she’d ever wanted was to make them proud, but it still hurt like crazy to see them so extremely disappointed in her.
It was starting to get dark, and the glare of headlights from passing cars hurt her sensitive, burning eyes. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and saw how red and puffy her whole face was from all the crying she’d done, and it made her want to start all over again. She looked so sad. She was only five minutes from her house, but she couldn’t get there fast enough. All she wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep. Then she wouldn’t have to think about the interaction she’d just had with her parents anymore. Hopefully by tomorrow, she would be able to put it out of her mind completely.
When Scarlett was at the edge of her driveway, she pushed the button on her garage door opener and watched as each section disappeared as it opened. Her eyes felt almost as heavy as her heart. After she parked in the garage, she grabbed her purse and heard her phone vibrating. She decided to sit in her car to take the call. It better not be one of my parents, she thought as she opened her bag and dug through it, trying to locate her phone. She swore her purse ate things—she could never find anything in it.
Finally, her fingers felt the smooth surface of her phone screen. She pulled it out and answered the call.
&
nbsp; “Hello?” Her voice sounded as dry and pinched as her throat felt.
“Scarlett! I’m so happy you picked up. It’s kind of late here, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if I didn’t tell you. I’ve found a match for you! I’m absolutely ecstatic!”
Lachele’s voice was about three times as loud as Scarlett was comfortable with at the moment. After how raw the conversation with her parents had left her, everything seemed to be amplified, and not in a good way. Her head immediately started to ache.
“Really. Wow. That’s great,” Scarlett said as she pressed her finger into her temple, trying to alleviate some of the tightness.
“Scarlett? Are you okay?” The concern in Dr. Lachele’s voice came through thick, and fresh tears welled in Scarlett’s eyes. She hadn’t meant to sound so devastated, but she didn’t have anything left in her emotional reservoir to fake a better reaction.
“Y-yes,” she choked out. She’d been waiting for months, and after how fast she’d thought this was going to happen, she was elated to know she’d have a groom to go with her dress. Unfortunately, as happy as she was about her upcoming nuptials, she was equally sad about how awful her parents were. And not just tonight. In general they were simply awful to her. It was hard to admit that to herself, because she so badly wanted to make them happy, but it was true.
“You’re not a very good liar. Of course, I knew that—one of your best traits is your honesty. So, why don’t you employ that now and tell me what’s going on?” Only the purple-haired matchmaker could sound playful and stern at the same time.
“It’s nothing new—just my parents. We’ve never had a great relationship, and tonight I told them that I am getting married. To a stranger. I’m sure you can imagine how well that went over. They freaked out so much, I didn’t even get a chance to tell them I would be moving away. I don’t really think they’ll care, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” Scarlett wiped the tears that had fallen from her cheeks and sat up straighter. She wasn’t going to let what her parents thought—or didn’t think—of her keep her from the happiness she deserved.
“Honey, I’ll tell you right now—they do care. Sometimes love is blind—but not in the way most people think. Your parents have invested so much of themselves in you, and instead of stepping back and loving you no matter what, they have put many of their own hopes and dreams on you and they stopped seeing your needs. It isn’t fair, but it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. They just have a…funny way of showing it.” Scarlett found herself nodding as Dr. Lachele spoke.
That makes so much sense, she thought. “So, what do you suggest I do, then? I don’t think I can bear another conversation with them about my ‘choices.’”
“I don’t blame you. You’re an adult. You have your own resources. You’ll be all right. My best advice would be just to sell your house as planned. I’ll have the moving company come and pick up your things like we discussed and ship them to your new address so they’ll be there when you arrive. When your parents decide they need to talk to you or wonder where you’ve gone, don’t ignore them—you don’t want them to worry. Send a simple text and tell them where you’ve moved, who you married, and so on. Eventually, they’ll soften and be more open to having a relationship with you, but don’t strain yourself to try to fit into their mold to win their acceptance. They have no reason to be disappointed in you.”
Dr. Lachele’s advice soothed Scarlett’s blistered soul. After so many years of feeling incredibly inadequate, she finally let herself believe that it wasn’t her fault. That she wasn’t flawed in some horrible way that would force her parents to be this critical of her.
“You’re right. They have no say in this. Thank you, Dr. Lachele. You have no idea how much pain you have just saved me from.” The weight of being a dream daughter lifted. She hadn’t realized how heavy their impossible standard was until it was gone. She’d been dragging around her failure to measure up, and she was more than happy to let it go now.
“I’m glad I caught you when I did. Otherwise, who knows what mess would have ensued. Anyway, back to what I was calling about, dear. Your match! I’ve checked with him, and his schedule is a lot fuller than most of my clients. I know I said you could be married soon when we first spoke, but it looks like it’s going to be early November before your man can make it to the altar. Is that okay with you?” Lachele sounded apologetic.
“That’s fine! Honestly, I’ve already waited all summer. What’s another couple of months? That will give me plenty of time to sell my house, donate all the things I don’t need, and prepare. If you have a date in mind, does that mean you have a venue?” Scarlett was hopeful that Dr. Lachele would tell her now where they would be getting married, even though it was months away.
“Very funny, Scarlett. I’m not about to give you any information to fuel your curious soul. You’ll find out a week before the wedding—which is scheduled for November fifth—where it will be.”
Scarlett sighed dramatically. “All right, fine. At least I have a definite date to look forward to. Thanks for everything tonight. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know. You’ve given me the key to freedom that I’ve always wanted. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Sweetie, you didn’t need me, or this marriage, to get your freedom. All you needed was a kick in the butt and a push in the right direction. You’ve found your bravery. You did this. I’m just here to help,” Lachele said.
Scarlett was glad the doctor wasn’t there to see the tears that had returned to her eyes. This time, they were full of pride. She had done this. It had been a long process, weeding out the people and things in her life that weren’t serving her or making her feel fulfilled, but she’d finally waded through the sea of costumes and makeup to an island where she could just be herself. Being authentic had freed her to think about leaving, and Matchrimony had only been the first ticket out.
“Yeah. Well, thanks for the help, then,” Scarlett said, hoping Dr. Lachele would understand how truly grateful she was.
“It’s my pleasure,” Dr. Lachele responded. “Goodnight, Scarlett. I look forward to seeing you again in November.”
* * *
Beau Lawrence had a love/hate relationship with the city of Las Vegas. He’d won big here—a few times—but not in the way most people did when they talked about winning in Vegas. As a professional bull rider, he’d ridden in both the National Finals Rodeo and the Professional Bull Riders’ World Finals in this city. He’d never earned the title of champion, but he’d seen enough success to keep chasing it.
Stoney’s—one of Beau’s favorite country bars in Vegas—was closed to the public, but he was friends with the manager, so he’d arranged to meet Dr. Lachele here before the wedding. His heartbeat picked up a bit as he thought about standing at the altar, waiting for his bride. Since he’d decided to sign up for Matchrimony a few weeks ago, he’d had several dreams about what she’d look like. He tried to ignore the twinge of pain in his chest as he remembered the most recent one. Shayla had been walking slowly down the aisle to him, and he’d felt the happiest he could remember until she stopped midway and turned around, walking away just as slowly as she had come.
What surprised him the most about the dream was that he didn’t try to chase her—he’d just let her walk away. Kind of like he had when she’d left two years ago. He’d told himself that if he could re-live it, he wouldn’t let her go like that again, but after his dream, he was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t really Shayla he was holding on to. Maybe she wasn’t what he was chasing. He’d allowed himself to believe it was her, but the more he thought about it, he realized that what he missed the most was the passion he’d had for bull riding and for life. And what he missed the most wasn’t the blonde-haired girl—it was the feeling of being loved.
He wasn’t a complete idiot—he knew she’d loved him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t loved her enough to leave bull riding to make her stay. He was grateful he was about to have a second chance. He just pr
ayed this woman wouldn’t see fit to ask him to give up the only thing he’d ever loved even more than life itself.
Every time he got on a bull, he was risking it all. He’d been mauled, stepped on, kicked, gored, and had every injury you could think of, but at the end of the day, even if he was hurting, all he wanted was to do it again. He hoped to God that whoever this woman was, she was capable of understanding that kind of passion, and that she wouldn’t be selfish enough to ask him to walk away from it.
Beau checked the clock behind the bar and wondered where Dr. Lachele was, then thought about all that had happened to put him in this city. He’d not only qualified for the PBR World Finals, but he’d managed to set up a wedding with a girl he still didn’t know yet. It was almost unbelievable.
His stomach fluttered and tingles shot through his arms as he thought about getting on a bull tomorrow as a married man. It would be his first ride that wasn’t just about him. His future would be undeniably tied to another after today, and the prospect was both exciting and terrifying.
The clicking sound of Dr. Lachele’s heels walking across the dance floor pulled him away from his thoughts, but only slightly. Even as she greeted him with a hug and spoke animatedly—she used her hands a lot—he couldn’t seem to focus on her. Part of him still drifted in the future—getting married that afternoon, riding the next day, going home to the ranch the following week, and the rest of his life with a woman he was dying to meet.
“So, you’ll need to be at the altar in chapel number three by two fifty-five this afternoon, and not a minute later!”
Beau nodded along as Dr, Lachele explained all the things he need to do for the upcoming ceremony. He’d known all week that the wedding would take place at A Little White Chapel on the Strip, so the minor details were what he was here to find out. And to get his tux, which Dr. Lachele had insisted on picking out. He’d refused to wear the shoes she’d brought along, though.
Nuptials in Nevada: An At the Altar Story Page 5