by Lori Wilde
“It’s not an engagement ring,” he said. “Not yet. I want us to date. I want to have the full experience. Intimate dinners. Sunset cruises. Horseback rides. Plane rides. I want more intimate questions. And more four-minute eye gazing.”
“Yes,” she said. “Oh yes.”
“Open it.”
She undid the wrapping, opened the box, laughed with joy at the duck charm bracelet nestled there. “Oh, oh!”
“Now you’ll always have your ducks in row,” he said.
“I love it.” She flung her arms around him. “And I love you.”
“I love you, Meg. With every breath in my body. And when the time is right for us both, I’ll ask you to be my bride. But for now, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“What’s that?” she asked as he attached the charm bracelet to her wrist.
“You know,” he said, “I’ve always wanted to have sex in a hayloft.”
“Follow me.” She giggled. “You’ve come to the right place.”
And as they walked away together in the dark, headed for a secluded hayloft hand in hand, it happened.
A holy presence came over the night—sweetly, softly. They felt it filling their bodies. Their minds bathed in mellow bright light. Their hearts, their full, full hearts, permeated with peace. A deep, abiding peace moving through them like warm ocean water, flowing through their spines, their brains, under their skin. Everywhere. Peace generated from joy.
And the sexual fires smoldered, joining them. One. No separation. There in the hayloft, when they came together, all their old fears and doubts and distrust fell away and they stood in the light of pure love—new beings, free beings—totally transformed.
Getting Saddled
Cat Johnson
Chapter One
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
In response to the preacher’s directive, the groom dipped the bride into a dramatic kiss worthy of any classic Hollywood romance film.
As the wedding guests cheered and whistled, Erin surreptitiously wiped the moisture from her eyes.
Next to Erin, her assistant Jessica shook her head, sending her blond hair bouncing. “How do you still get choked up at every ceremony? We’re doing two, sometimes three weddings a weekend and it’s only May. June will be even busier. I would think you’d be immune to all this sappy stuff by now.”
Even after years in this business every ceremony still touched her heart. Erin gathered her composure and turned to her already jaded assistant to set the girl straight. “Of course not. Each wedding is special. The day I don’t get choked up will be the day I know I should consider hanging up my wedding planner hat.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “You’re such a romantic. That’s why I don’t understand why you aren’t married at your age.”
At your age?
The words reverberated like thunder in Erin’s head, making her want to tear out her own locks.
How old did Jessica think she was anyway? She was sure the younger woman hadn’t meant the words to be an insult, but she still couldn’t help feeling she’d just been called old.
Jeez. They were barely fifteen years apart in age. Erin would turn forty in December and that was still over half a year away. She had plenty of time to find the perfect man and settle down. Later. When she could slow down at work and not risk the competition taking over the Austin wedding planning market.
One day Erin would have a steady man in her life. A house with a yard. Kids even. Until then, she was perfectly happy sharing her apartment with Maurice. Yes, Maurice was a cat who wanted nothing to do with her if she wasn’t filling his food bowl, but he was still a companion. She wasn’t completely alone.
“I’m not dating because I’m concentrating on my job.” And with that, Erin was putting an end to the absurd conversation.
The starry-eyed bride and groom were slowly working their way down the long aisle of the church. They looked so young, so eager, so ready to begin their life together. The maid of honor and best man followed, arm in arm, and then two more pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen fell in behind.
The wedding party would be followed by the one hundred and fifty guests who were already getting on their feet and waiting for their turn to exit. Erin’s short break to watch the vows was over.
It was time to get back to work. She had a wedding to run. The bride and groom might be the stars of this production, but it was Erin, acting in the dual roles of stage manager and director, who would make sure it went off without a hitch.
“Let’s get these doors open and these people on their way.” Like a quarterback dismissing the team huddle, Erin clapped her hands together and spun toward the doors nearby.
Jessica secured one side of the double doors as Erin handled the other while she reviewed the plan. “I need you to organize the receiving line. The wedding party should line up on the lawn where we discussed so the guests have room to go all the way down the stairs and start a queue on level ground rather than waiting on the steps. But make sure the bride and groom are facing away from the sun. We don’t want them squinting for the photographs because of the glare.”
Jessica let out a laugh. “Okay, will do.”
Frowning, Erin glanced at her assistant. “What’s so funny?”
“It just never ceases to amaze me how you can go from teary-eyed romantic to a tyrannical general in seconds.” With a smirk and without waiting for a response, Jessica headed outside.
Tyrant. Humph. Sentiment was one thing; work was work.
After a brief moment of wonder as to how today’s twenty-somethings seemed to have no problem speaking their minds to their bosses, Erin followed Jessica outside while pulling her cell phone from her jacket pocket.
She placed a call to the banquet manager at the catering hall and confirmed things were running on schedule and the first guests would likely arrive for cocktails within the half hour. She also needed to make sure there was someone waiting outside the venue to help push the bride’s grandmother in her wheelchair up the ramp.
That done, she disconnected the call and glanced at the line forming on the lawn. Jessica might have more opinions than Erin would like, but the girl followed directions to the letter. That was all that really mattered.
So many details went into the successful planning of a wedding and Erin loved every minute of it.
Speaking of details . . . she was worried about the swan ice sculpture. That bird and its skinny neck was just too delicate for Erin’s comfort, yet it seemed as if every bride who wanted an ice sculpture at the cocktail hour chose a swan.
Before she had a chance to put the cell away and move on to one of those many details she needed to attend to, the phone vibrated in her hand.
The number on the display was unfamiliar, but that was nothing new. Except for her mother and sister, the only calls she got were business-related. “Hello, this is Erin.”
“Hi. Um, is this the wedding planner?” The girl on the phone sounded painfully young. That alone wouldn’t preclude Erin from taking the time to speak with her. Brides seemed to get younger and younger every year. Of course, that could be because Erin was getting older.
“That’s right. I’m Erin Saddler, owner of Happy Is the Bride Event Planning. How can I help you?”
“Oh good. Jan from the vegan bakery in Austin gave me your number. She said she’s worked with you in the past.”
“Yes. Many times. I just love Jan. She’s such a sweetheart, and those cakes they make there are to die for. Are you a bride?”
To save time, Erin began the walk toward her car. Jessica was handling things here at the church, so Erin was free to drive over to the catering hall to see for herself that everything was in order. Erin caught her assistant’s gaze and motioned toward the parking lot.
As Jessica acknowledged Erin with a nod, the girl on the phone continued, “Yes. My fiancé and I just got engaged. I’m sorry, I’m so excited I’m forgetting myself—I’
m Ellie.”
“Ellie, congratulations. No need to apologize. It’s an exciting time for you. That’s perfectly understandable and the reason I’m in business actually. To take the extra work off the already busy bride and groom’s shoulders so they can relax and enjoy the time.” Erin slid into her car and switched the cell to speakerphone.
“That sounds pretty amazing . . . and impossible.” Ellie’s tinkling laugh had Erin picturing a young sprite living in the forest. “There seems like so much to do. And we have a unique challenge I hope won’t be a problem.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t work around if you choose to go with our company.”
How bad could it be? Erin had orchestrated events for everyone from rock stars to dogs—literally. Some heiress had had a wedding for her and her neighbor’s dog. Erin was fairly confident she could handle most anything at this point.
“Well, for one thing my fiancé—Brady—his family owns a cattle ranch.”
This was Texas. Even in the city of Austin, running into cattle ranchers from the surrounding areas was common.
“All right . . .” Erin waited for the problem.
“I’m a vegan, so I’m a little concerned about keeping both sides happy with the food at the reception.”
“Ah, okay. I don’t see a problem with that.” The venue schematic was already forming in Erin’s head. She pictured two buffet tables. One vegan-friendly. The other beef-centric, perhaps with a barbecue theme. And Erin knew the vegan bakery could fill any of their dessert needs.
“That’s good to hear. But there’s one other thing that might be an issue . . . the wedding’s June eighteenth.”
Again, Erin didn’t see an issue, but brides tended to worry. “Not a problem. That gives us a year—”
“I meant this June.”
Erin quickly did the math in her head. “That’s only—” “Less than a month away. I know it’s soon.” The bride-to-be completed Erin’s sentence, confirming the bad news.
Ellie had sounded so sad, almost miserable with her fear that she wouldn’t have the wedding she wanted on the date she’d chosen, that Erin hated to disappoint her. Even so, three weeks was tight. “Um, I don’t know—”
The bride rushed to add, “We already have the place for the reception and there’s a chapel there for the ceremony. Will that make it easier?”
That last bit of information saved Erin from having heart palpitations. She blew out a breath of relief. “Yes. That’ll definitely help.”
“So . . . do you think you can do it? Will you take the job?” A bit of hope crept into Ellie’s voice.
Erin couldn’t let her down. She lived to make brides’ dreams come true and that wasn’t going to change just because there were a few obstacles in the way.
Drawing in a bracing breath, Erin said with more conviction than she felt, “Yes. Definitely.”
“Really?” In a complete one-eighty, the bride’s tone changed to elated. Almost bubbly.
“Yes. We’ll get it done.” Somehow. Erin didn’t quite know exactly how just yet, but she’d figure it out. Come hell or high water.
She hadn’t built her reputation as one of the premier event planners in Austin by shying away from a challenge. And this certainly would be that—challenging.
Wait until Jessica heard she’d accepted a wedding that had to be put together in three weeks. Erin’s assistant was never going to let her hear the end of it.
Chapter Two
It was hot as hell. But then again, that shouldn’t be a surprise. This was Texas after all, but today was hotter than usual for a day in late May.
Tanner should be able to handle the heat. He’d been working a ranch most of his adult life. He didn’t let that stop him from bitching about it now.
“Damn, it’s hot as blazes out here today.” Letting out a huff, Tanner ran his handkerchief across his forehead.
The thin cotton was so damp with sweat and smeared with the dust he’d been working in, the red paisley pattern was barely visible any longer.
Knowing it would only get worse before he was done for the day, Tanner shoved it dirty into the rear pocket of his jeans.
“Eh, the heat won’t last. Supposed to cool off a bit next week.” Randy, the young ranch hand working with him, didn’t look particularly disturbed by the heat kicking Tanner’s ass.
That made Tanner feel old, which only annoyed him more.
Was he just getting old? He considered the possibility.
Nah.
He quickly dismissed the thought. At forty-one he was still in his prime. But that didn’t mean he had to like sweating under the noonday sun. Oh he’d do it, but he sure as hell didn’t have to enjoy it.
Taking the tool in hand again, Tanner went back to work. The steady sound of the post-hole digger—the chomp of the metal blade hitting the dirt and the swoosh as Tanner pulled it out again—became hypnotic. Combined with the warmth of the sun and the touch of the wind, it lulled him into a relaxed rhythm.
After today’s work he’d sleep good tonight.
City folk wouldn’t need yoga or meditation or pills to sleep at night—and more pills to get through the day—if they’d just pick up a tool and work up a good sweat every day.
Planting his tool in the ground, Randy leaned on the long wooden handles and let out a long, low whistle. “Holy cow . . . Who is that?”
Frowning at Randy, Tanner wondered what had the kid ignoring his work this time.
Today’s youth had a crap work ethic.
With that thought, Tanner realized he really was starting to act old. That was something his papaw would have said. In fact, Papaw might have actually said it, word for word.
He supposed he shouldn’t be quite so cranky, but damn, was it hot. And it would be nice if the ranch hand helping him would actually, you know, help.
Tanner planted his own post-hole digger into the dirt and leaned on it as he tried to see what had Randy so distracted. He spotted the car parked in front of the Cutwrights’ house.
Actually, it was less car and more mommy minivan, but either way it was nothing for Randy to be so excited about. People came and went all day around here, especially since Brady had gotten engaged. And as far as vehicles went, this one was pretty plain. Straightforward. White. Square. Probably useless in the mud.
Then a woman stepped from around the nose of the van and into Tanner’s view and he had to give Randy a pass for staring.
She opened the passenger door and bent at the waist as she fiddled with something inside.
Holy cow was right. A few other exclamations, not quite as tame, flew into Tanner’s mind.
“Don’t know who that is.” But Tanner would sure like to get to know her.
Mommy van or not, she certainly didn’t look like any mother he’d ever seen. Though he wouldn’t mind if she called him daddy.
Even at this distance he could see the glint of red as the sun hit her glossy chestnut hair while it bounced around her shoulders.
And that body . . . phew!
In spite of the length of the skirt that came all the way down to her knees, he could tell she had legs that went on for days and hips he’d really enjoy getting his hands on.
Nope, he didn’t know who she was or why she was here, but he’d have to make it his business to find out.
It was a rare occurrence that a female—and one that shapely to boot—showed up unexpectedly at the ranch. Brady Cutwright’s wife-to-be, Ellie, was here a lot. And Brady’s friend Meg Stoddard, who owned the adjacent ranch, visited all the time. But this woman . . . he was sure she’d never crossed his path before.
Maybe she was lost. If that was the case, it was up to him to investigate and help her out; she might need some direction. In fact, his being ranch boss meant it was Tanner’s duty to be on top of what happened around here.
He pulled off his work gloves and shoved them into the belt on his jeans. “I’m gonna go check it out. See if she needs any help. You keep digging. I’ll be
right back.”
“Hey, why do I have to stay and keep working and you get to go?”
Tanner glanced back and saw the kid’s deep frown. “’Cause I’m your boss, that’s why.”
Before Tanner took even a step toward the house, Randy scowled deep. The kid’s reaction made Tanner grin, but it sure as hell didn’t make him change his mind.
Someone had to get those holes dug. Lucky for Tanner, he had somebody to delegate to. Besides, from what he could see at this distance, the lady in question wasn’t Randy’s type. The kid liked them young and dumb, in painted-on jeans and showing enough cleavage to be illegal.
The twenty-two-year-old cowboy wouldn’t know what to do with a real woman, and as far as Tanner could determine, that was what the mysterious lady was. A real woman who’d need a real man, and he was just the guy for the job.
The closer he got as he headed toward the house, the more details he could make out. Their mysterious visitor’s tight skirt looked like it belonged on a naughty librarian or a sexy secretary . . . and maybe Tanner had watched too many dirty movies during his misspent youth.
Sometimes his current lack of a steady lady in his life made itself very apparent. Today’s little fantasy about the Cutwright family’s unexpected feminine company was proof of that.
Tanner sidelined his fantasies and got his head back to the business of being the ranch manager greeting a guest . . . before his hard-on greeted her for him.
Given she was still bent over, he would have to address her posterior, which was no problem for him. “Excuse me, ma’am. Can I help you?”
She bolted upright and turned, arms loaded. It had been a long while since Tanner had been in school, but what she held looked like a couple of years’ worth of schoolwork barely contained in a few large white binders. His fantasy immediately shifted from naughty librarian to hot for teacher.
“Hi.” She frowned. “Um, any chance you’re Brady?”
Tanner let out a snort. He respected his boss, the whole Cutwright family, but no way any one of them would be covered in sweat and dirt from digging holes the way he was now. “No, ma’am. I’m Tanner Black. Ranch manager. Brady’s my boss.”