How to Make a Wedding

by Cindy Kirk

  “You’re beautiful.” He leaned across the kitchen bar and kissed her. “It may sound corny, Skye, but you’ve made me the happiest guy on earth.”

  The way Skye felt, she couldn’t believe the entire congregation couldn’t see the truth for themselves. It was a wonder everyone didn’t come over at the end of the service and start shaking Grant’s hand and congratulating them both.

  But if anyone guessed she and Grant were engaged, no one let on, and the couple made it to her parents’ home with their secret still intact. The next half an hour was pure agony while her mom and dad asked Grant questions and he answered them. But Skye could only hold back the announcement for so long.

  When a lull in the conversation occurred, she reached over and took hold of Grant’s hand. “Mom. Dad. Grant and I have something to tell you.” She tightened her grip. “We’re getting married.”

  “What?” her dad exclaimed.

  Her mom shushed him. “Let her talk, Rand.”

  “We know it seems fast,” Skye said. “We’ve only known each other a few weeks. But we’re sure, Dad. We love each other. And we aren’t rushing straight to the altar. We thought this fall would be a good time for the wedding.”

  Grant cleared his throat. “Sir, I love your daughter.” He looked at her father with a steady gaze. “I’m as sure of that as I’ve ever been sure of anything. I promise I’ll take care of her, be a good husband to her, cherish her always. You’ve got my word on it.” He put an arm around Skye’s shoulders and hugged her close.

  Her dad was quiet for a long while, then said, “Neither one of you are kids. You’re old enough to make decisions for yourselves. I don’t know you well, Grant, but I respect the men who are your friends. That says a lot about you. And Skye, you know your own mind. I never had to worry about you the way I worried about your brother and sister. You were always more focused and self-disciplined than they were. So if this is what you want, then God bless you. I hope you’ll both be as happy as your mom and I have been all these years.”

  Tears slipped down Skye’s cheeks as she got up to hug her father. When she turned toward her mom, she saw that she was sniffling. Happy tears, judging by the smile on her lips.

  After they’d exchanged a hug, too, her mom said, “I’d best get that roast out of the oven before it turns to charcoal.”

  “I’ll help.” Skye took two steps toward the kitchen, stopped, and turned to look once again at Grant. After several heartbeats, she mouthed the words, I love you. Then she left the room, her heart tripping with joy.

  The meal was over, but they lingered at the dining room table over cups of coffee. Grant felt accepted by Skye’s parents. No small thing. It was easy to envision a future full of friendly dinners like this one.

  Midge rose from her chair and began to clear the table. Skye got up to help her. Soon, running water and the clatter of plates and clink of glasses could be heard from the kitchen.

  “I’ll get the rest of these dishes,” Grant said to Rand.

  When he arrived at the doorway, he paused to look at the two women, mother and daughter, as they worked. It reminded him of home and his mom and sisters.

  “I can hardly wait to meet Grant’s family,” Skye was saying. “Especially his mother. She raised ten kids, Mom. Ten. She must be full of advice, and I plan to ask her all kinds of questions when we get to meet. You know how I’ve always dreamed of having a big family like the one Grant grew up in. Oh, Mom. I can hardly wait until we have babies of our own. We’ll have a big old house with a rope swing in the tree in the backyard and ponies for the kids to ride when they’re little.”

  Grant went cold all over. He knew Skye and her mother continued to talk, but their voices were more like a buzz in his ears now.

  He and Skye had crammed a lot of information, questions, and answers into the short time they’d known each other. Whenever together, they’d talked. About everything. How was it possible she’d never said anything about wanting a big family like his? Never a clue that she was eager to add to the overpopulation of the world. But then, he couldn’t lay the blame at her feet. He should have made his own sentiments clear when he proposed. Or better yet, before he proposed. Why hadn’t he thought to tell her how he felt about it?

  A sick knot formed in his gut.

  Midge Foster caught sight of him in the doorway. “Oh, thank you, Grant. That was nice of you to bring those to us.”

  Feeling stiff, he moved forward and set the dishes on the counter next to the sink.

  As he turned, Skye touched the back of one of his hands with her fingertips. “I’ll help Mom clean up, and then we can go.”

  He nodded.

  To her mom, Skye said, “We’re going to call Grant’s parents with the news after we leave here.”

  “Grant, I look forward to meeting your parents. I hope your whole family can come down for the wedding.”

  The whole family. Thirty-two of them, counting spouses. Where would they all stay if they did come? Kings Meadow didn’t have a motel. Only a bed-and-breakfast that had three available bedrooms. He knew because that’s where he’d stayed upon his arrival in town.

  His head began to throb.

  Maybe he hadn’t prayed about this marriage idea enough. Maybe he hadn’t heard God’s answer after all. He’d given Rand Foster his word that he would take care of Skye, that he would make her happy. They weren’t even wed yet—not even home yet—and he was about to break that promise.

  Tension emanated from Grant. Almost like a third entity in the Jeep.

  When Skye dared to glance at him, his eyes were locked on the street ahead, his mouth set in a hard line. His hands gripped the steering wheel as if he might try to break it in two.

  Something had gone awry, and she didn’t know what. There had been joy and laughter at her parents’ home throughout the dinner. Announcing their engagement plans had gone even better than she’d hoped it would. But something had changed before they left the house.

  She didn’t have the courage to ask Grant about it. She would have to wait until he told her of his own accord.

  However long that’ll be.

  As soon as the Jeep stopped in her driveway, Skye opened the passenger door before Grant, per usual, could come around and open it for her. His tension had become her tension, and she couldn’t stand to wait for him. Wordlessly, she led the way up the narrow walk.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” she said over her shoulder as she headed to her bedroom. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, her breath rapid and shallow. Calm down. You don’t know anything’s wrong. Not for sure.

  He loved her. That was what mattered. That was all that mattered. Wasn’t it?

  She pushed off the door, stepped over to the mirror above her dresser, and stared at her reflection. Forcing herself to take a slow, deep breath, then another, she pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

  Yes, that was better. Foolish to stand in here, imagining the worst. Better to go out and talk to Grant. That was what people did when they were married. They talked things through. Might as well begin now.

  Drawing one more deep breath, she left the bedroom and walked the short hallway to the living room. Grant stood at the window, staring outside, his thumbs tucked into the back pockets of his jeans.

  “Are we ready to make that phone call?” she asked, trying to sound normal, not sure she succeeded.

  He turned toward her. “We need to talk first.”

  Dread became a lump in her chest. “Okay.” She expected him to move to the sofa where they could sit, side by side, as they discussed whatever was on his mind. He didn’t. He stayed near the window, the light at his back, casting his face in shadows.

  “I heard . . . I heard you talking to your mom. In the kitchen before we left. I heard you say you want a big family. I saw how much joy that idea gave you. You came alive when you talked about it. It was written all over your face.”

  She nodded, glad that he understood her so well, still afrai
d because she didn’t know what he would say next.

  “Skye, we never talked about kids. I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

  This time she shook her head, confused.

  “I never planned on having kids of my own,” he said softly. “No big family for me. I can’t.”

  “Can’t?” Was there a medical reason? Because if—

  “Won’t.” The single word dashed her brief hope. “I decided a long time ago. No kids.”

  Tears welled, and she rubbed them away. “You decided,” she whispered, the words like a dagger to her chest.

  “Maybe I’d better go so you can think about it. So we both can think about it. I’m sorry, Skye. Real sorry. It’s just . . . I don’t know . . . I just—” He broke off, his frustration obvious, and walked to the door. Without looking back at her, he said, “I’ll call you.”

  The instant the door closed, she sank to the floor. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she didn’t sob. Didn’t make a sound. She hadn’t the strength for more than one single thought.

  So this is what a broken heart feels like.

  Grant arranged for time off from both of his jobs and was on the road to Montana before dawn the next morning. It was a little better than a six-hour drive, taking the route through the mountains and not counting any stops for fuel or food. He pulled into the barnyard of the Nichols family ranch just after one o’clock in the afternoon.

  Before he could close the door to his Jeep, his mom was running toward him from the house. “Grant! Grant’s here!” she shouted to anyone within hearing distance. In the next instant, she was hugging him. “Oh, son, you’re home again. You’re home. It’s been too long.”

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?” she asked as she drew back from him.

  “It was a last-minute decision. Spur of the moment.”

  His dad appeared out of the barn. A second or two later, Vince came around the corner of the house. More hugs were exchanged. More questions about his impromptu visit. His answers were evasive, although honest.

  He might have fooled his parents as per the nature of his visit, but not his older brother. “Care to tell me what’s up?” Vince asked as soon as they were alone in the room they’d shared as boys.

  Grant dropped his duffle on the bed. He’d had all those hours of driving to think about what had happened with Skye. Not only what had happened yesterday but from the first moment he’d met her. Thinking hadn’t solved the dilemma. Maybe talking about it would. Maybe.

  He sat on the bed. “I met a girl,” he began.

  After that the words poured out of him. Vince listened, never trying to interrupt. Not even once. He didn’t make a sound until Grant ran out of words. All he said then was, “Wow.”

  “‘Wow’? I was hoping for something more than that.”

  “Wow, I had no idea you were such a bonehead. How’s that for something more?”

  Grant wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Look, bro. I know being part of a big family isn’t always easy. And being the oldest two kids meant a lot of stuff fell on our shoulders, yours and mine, when we were growing up. But you’re no prize, you know. Yeah, you’ve turned your life around in the last few years. I’m proud of you for it. But you’ve got more work to do in that head of yours. You think Mom and Dad had too many kids? You think your brothers and sisters all married too young and had their own kids too fast? Who made you the judge?”

  Wasn’t Vince ever going to draw a breath?

  “Maybe you oughta take another look at this family, Grant. Yeah, we’re big and noisy. Yeah, at any family gathering there’s probably at least one baby crying and another needing a diaper change. But there are also husbands and wives there, supporting each other, loving each other, helping each other. Because of the examples of our parents, we’ve got strong marriages that we keep working on so that they’ll stay strong. And there isn’t a single one of your brothers and sisters who wouldn’t do just about anything for you if you needed them. If you were in trouble, there’d be an entire tribe coming to your rescue. How many people in this world are lucky enough to say the same?”

  Defensive, Grant said, “I never said I didn’t love and appreciate my family.”

  “Then start taking note of your blessings. And then check with your brain and your heart to see if you even know what you want anymore. Don’t stay a bonehead. Grow up!” With those words, Vince strode out of the room.

  “What got him so riled?” Grant muttered.

  He tried to get angry over his brother’s outburst, but he failed. In fact, something in his gut told him they were the words he’d driven all the way from Kings Meadow to hear.

  Skye pressed her face against Snickers’s neck. She would have wept, but her tears had run dry after four days of doing little else but crying.

  Grant’s last words to her had been that he would call.

  He hadn’t called.

  He hadn’t come to his dance lesson on Monday night.

  And yesterday she’d learned from Chet Leonard that Grant had gone to Montana. For a few days? Or for good?

  “Skye.”

  She gasped softly. Now she was hearing voices. No, now she was hearing his voice.

  “Skye?”

  She spun around, and there he stood—black hat, rumpled cotton shirt tucked into the waistband of his jeans, boots covered in a fine layer of dust.

  He took a step forward. “Can we talk?”

  “If you want.” She turned toward the gelding and stroked his neck.

  “My brother called me a bonehead. He was right. I am one.”

  After all the crying she’d done in the past few days, the urge to laugh took her completely by surprise. It even maddened her. She looked over her shoulder and followed him with her eyes as he walked to the opposite side of Snickers.

  “I was wrong not to sit down and talk it through, you and me, right then, Sunday night. I panicked, I guess. I love you, but all of a sudden I saw my whole world spiraling out of control.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

  “No. You misunderstood. That’s not what I meant.” He ran a hand over his face. “Man, I’m making a mess of it.”

  Skye couldn’t argue with that.

  He leaned against Snickers’s side. “But maybe it was for the best, me going away for a few days. Maybe I needed my one and only big brother to knock some sense into me. Maybe he’s the only one who could.”

  “Did he?” Hope rose in her chest.

  “Yes.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like looking at all the ways God’s blessed me through that big, noisy, interfering, exasperating family of mine. Like holding one of my nieces in my arms and realizing the absolute miracle of new life. Like how much I love you. Really love you. Deep down in my bones love you.” His arm snaked across the horse’s back, and he clasped Skye’s right hand in his left. “Skye, I don’t know if I’d ever be ready to have as many kids as my folks did. But when the time’s right, I wouldn’t mind starting with one . . . as long as you’re the mother.”

  “Oh, Grant,” she whispered.

  “Stay there.”

  He hurried around Snickers and stopped before her. She thought he was about to hug her, but instead he drew her into a dance hold, his right hand in the small of her back, warm, strong, reassuring.

  He stared down at her. “I want to dance with you for the rest of my life, Skye.” He started to sway side to side. “But you know I’ve got two left feet. I’m going to need you to teach me the steps, and you know I’m gonna stumble every now and again. Probably step on your toes. Think you can handle it?”

  Soft laughter escaped her. “Grant, remember what I told you the first time we met? I love a challenge.” She pressed her cheek against his chest. “As long as we dance together, we’re going to be just fine.”

  Through tear-blurred eyes, Skye watched the wedding party—b
ride and groom, parents of the bride and groom, best man and maid of honor, groomsmen and bridesmaids—waltz around the dance floor. Who wouldn’t cry at such a beautiful moment?

  Everything about this wedding had been sublime, just as she’d imagined it would be—the bride and groom speaking their vows in the gazebo, the morning sun bathing the world in a golden July glow, the guests filling row after row of white folding chairs, the cutting of the cake, the music, and now the dancing.

  The waltz ended. Skye looked for Grant. He’d been with the wedding party a moment before, dancing with one of the bridesmaids. But now she couldn’t see him. Where had he gone? Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he stood before her. Still wearing his suit jacket but with the addition of a gray cowboy hat covering his hair.

  “Care to risk your feet, Miss Foster?” A slow grin curved his mouth.

  “I’m a brave woman, Mr. Nichols.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  She stepped into his arms as the band began to play “I Hope You Dance.”

  Perfect.

  She loved the way Grant made her feel as he folded her smaller hand within his larger one. There was a sense of security in his other hand against the small of her back. Her heart fluttered as they moved in time to the music.

  Heavenly.

  She tilted her head back and looked up at him. Beneath the brim of his gray Stetson, she saw the love in his eyes and the warmth of his smile. No shadows could hide him from her. She saw him as clearly as he saw her, and the knowledge made her tremble with more happiness than she had ever dreamed possible.

  Skye had learned something important over the summer. Dreams for her future were all well and good, but the present—whatever that present looked like—was what she was meant to embrace, to savor.

  Here, in the arms of the man she loved, was the only dance, the only moment, that mattered.

  Robin Lee Hatcher is the bestselling author of seventy-five books. Her well-drawn characters and heartwarming stories of faith, courage, and love have earned her both critical acclaim and the devotion of readers. Her numerous awards include the Christy Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction, the RITA Award for Best Inspirational Romance, Romantic Times Career Achievement Awards for Americana Romance and for Inspirational Fiction, the Carol Award, the 2011 Idahope Writer of the Year Award, and Lifetime Achievement Awards from both Romance Writers of America (2001) and American Christian Fiction Writers (2014). Catching Katie was named one of the Best Books of 2004 by Library Journal.