by Kait Nolan
Cam grinned. “Keep dreaming.”
“Every day, cuz. Every day.”
The door shut quietly behind Mitch, and Cam’s attention shifted back to Sandy, the grin fading. “I’m worried about you.”
She was worried about his father. Through all the preparations today, she’d kept an eye out for Waylan, but so far there’d been no sign. She wanted desperately for this wedding to go off without a hitch, so that Cam and Norah’s memory of the day wouldn’t be tainted with spectacle and disaster. Which meant she said nothing of her confrontation with Waylan at Tosca last night.
“I’m fine, baby. Truly.”
He gave her a look like he knew damned well that was a lie. “You know, I just want one thing as a wedding present.”
“If it’s in my power, I’ll give it.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.” What else could she be on the day of her son’s wedding?
“Mom.” The single syllable stopped whatever argument she would’ve made.
Clearly, she needed to work on her acting skills.
“You’ve spent your entire life doing everything for me. And I’m grateful. So damned grateful, because nobody could’ve had a better mom. But I’m getting married today. And it’s long past time for it to be your turn to find what I’ve got with Norah.”
His words re-opened the wound to her heart that hadn’t stopped bleeding for days. She’d thought she’d found it. She’d thought life had miraculously brought her full circle, back to the man she’d always loved. But she didn’t know how to be the kind of woman who let someone else fight her battles.
“Talk to Trey.”
She certainly didn’t want to talk about this with Cam. “That’s complicated, baby.”
“Not really.” Cam slid his hands down to link with both of hers. “Do you know what I’ve learned loving a strong woman?”
Seriously? Her generally quiet son was going to pontificate about love? “What’s that?”
“That sometimes I have to step aside and let her do her thing.”
Yes. That was exactly what she wanted. Was it so hard to understand?
“But, you know what she’s had to learn in return?”
“What?”
“That sometimes I have to step in to protect and defend. Partnership doesn’t mean she’s weak or incapable. It just means I’ve got her back. It’s been too damned long since somebody had your back, Mom. Whatever stubborn principles you’re holding on to…they aren’t worth walking away from that.”
Well. Sandy had no idea how to respond. So, she said nothing, just nodded and swallowed back the knot of tears in her throat as Cam wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
“Looks like it’s time,” he said.
They headed down the stairs of City Hall arm-in-arm and crossed the town green toward the fountain. Music played over a PA system, the cheerful strings echoing faintly off the downtown buildings. Guests filled nearly every seat but the front row of chairs, and more were gathered behind and around the seating area. Sandy scanned each face, smiling and nodding to those she knew, but remaining on alert for the one face she didn’t want to see. With a quick kiss on her cheek, Cam dropped her off with the gathering of the rest of the family at the back of the crowd and headed for the fountain, where Reverend Prescott waited.
A disturbance drew her attention to the reception tent. With a sinking sensation, Sandy hurried in that direction. Had Waylan tried hiding in there?
But it wasn’t her ex-husband she found. It was Norah, arguing with her bridesmaids.
Miranda stood, hands on hips. “Hold her down, Tyler.”
“Don’t you even.” Norah brandished her bouquet like a weapon.
“Then hand it over,” Miranda insisted.
Sandy let the tent flap fall and rushed forward. “What’s going on?”
“Norah won’t give up her headset,” Piper said.
Ever the control freak, Norah backed away from her friends, one hand protectively over her ear. “I just want to—”
“Norah, I love you, but you’re not walking down the aisle with the headset. Hand it over.” Miranda held her hand out, palm up.
“But—”
“Let it go, sugar,” Tyler ordered.
Looking a bit mulish, Norah pulled out her earpiece and dropped it into Miranda’s hand.
“Good girl.”
With an indulgent smile, Sandy took her hands. “I promise everything is taken care of. Molly has it under control.”
“I know, I just—”
“You just need to take a deep breath. You’re getting married in a few minutes.”
Norah’s hands trembled. “I keep expecting something else to go wrong.”
“There’s nothing left to go wrong. The whole town has made sure of it.” And if Waylan showed up and made an ass of himself, she’d just have to finally give in and kill him. Nothing was going to ruin their day. “All you have to do is walk down that aisle. Cam’s waiting right there by the fountain.”
Norah blew out a breath. “Okay.”
Voice brisk, Sandy went down the checklist. “You’ve got your something old.”
“My mother’s veil.”
“Something new?”
“I figured the whole dress counted.” Norah’s eyes went wide. “Does the dress not count?”
“The dress totally counts,” Sandy assured her. “I can see the something borrowed.”
She reached toward the pearls at her throat—Sandy’s pearls—and smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”
“And Cam has you covered for your something blue with the sapphires in your engagement ring.”
“He’s got me covered for everything.” She said it with an absolute faith that warmed Sandy’s heart.
Nodding, Sandy stepped back. “Then I’d say you’re ready.”
“Oh my God, so ready. Let’s do this.”
Sandy took her place just as her mother was being seated, her own nerves making her glad she’d remembered waterproof mascara. As the music shifted, Mitch offered his arm, escorting her to her proper place on the front row. It was really happening. Thanks to all the hard work of her town, her boy was finally getting to marry the love of his life. Sandy dug for the tissue she’d stuffed up the sleeve of her suit and cast one more look around for Waylan. Seeing no sign of him, she began to relax a fraction. Maybe this would go off without problem after all.
Then she saw Trey. He wasn’t seated on the bride’s side. But he stood just to the side of the far aisle, at the front of the onlookers. And his gaze was fixed on her.
He came. The flood of relief was staggering, and on its heels came a yearning to touch him that was so strong, she nearly rose from her seat. She’d been on her own for such a long time—raising her son, running her town—she was good at it. It had never occurred to her that she’d want him by her side today, that she’d feel this need to share this special day with him. Only the next change in music, heralding the procession of attendants, kept her in place.
They marched in, two-by-two. Mitch and Miranda. Tyler and Brody. Tucker and Piper. Then came the very unconventional ring bearer. Cam’s dog, Hush, pranced—without an escort—down the aisle with more pomp and attitude than should’ve been possible for a hundred-pound ball of white fluff. The Great Pyrenees-Malamute mix carried a specially-made pillow mounted to her collar. Miraculously, she made it all the way to Cam without stopping to greet all and sundry. As the dog plopped her butt down beside Cam and sat at attention, Sandy let out a breath. As long as there were no squirrels, they’d be safe.
The bridal march began. Those seated stood, and everyone turned to watch as Norah walked down the aisle. From her position up front, Sandy couldn’t see her, so she watched Cam instead. The absolute joy on his face warmed her down to the bone. Had she looked like that when she married Waylan? She’d thought herself in love, been happy and excited. But that kind of effervescence in the blood…she didn’t remember that.
Had sh
e had it when she married Trey?
Instinct had her searching for his face, wanting to connect and share this moment with him. Her eyes met his and everything melted away but him. The generous, loving man who wanted to have her back. Could she let her guard down and trust him enough to do that?
Norah passed to the front of the crowd, pulling Sandy’s attention back to the ceremony. She was radiant as she glided up to the fountain and placed her hand in Cam’s.
“Dearly beloved and citizens of Wishful—” The assembled crowd chuckled. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Norah and Campbell.”
Sandy cried. Quietly and with as much dignity as she could muster. But her baby was getting married. She figured she was allowed.
“They’d like to say a few words to each other.” Reverend Prescott held out a hand to indicate they could begin.
Norah turned to hand off her bouquet to Miranda, and Cam took her hands, raising them to his lips to gently kiss her knuckles.
“I know you’ve memorized yours, but I hope you don’t mind that I jotted down a few bullet points.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out an index card. “Norah Burke, the moment I laid eyes on you, the first thought that went through my mind was, ‘Wow!’ I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. Not a day has passed that you haven’t made me think ‘Wow!’ You do so much and care so much about me, about our families, about this town—it’s amazing. You are amazing.”
He glanced down at the card and tossed it so he could cup her cheek. “Wishful sees General Burke or Wonder Woman or whatever remarkable persona you’re wearing that day and thinks, ‘That woman never stops. She’s always doing her duty to everyone.’ But they, and even you, don’t know that duty isn’t what drives you. It’s love. You have so much love inside you that you have to have a place to put it, and I thank God every night you chose me and this town. You made me a promise that you’d save my world. I had no idea you’d actually become my world in the process. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. You’re stubborn, dedicated, and you don’t give up—ever. I can’t imagine better qualities in the woman I want by my side for the rest of my life.”
Cam grinned, his dimples flashing. “I think I missed a couple of bullet points. I hope that’s okay.”
Tears streamed down Norah’s cheeks. “It’s totally okay. Just be glad I had waterproof mascara on one of my lists. Cam,” she began, swiping at her cheeks and squaring her shoulders. “I used to be a dedicated workaholic.” Cam arched a brow and Norah laughed. “Okay I’m still a dedicated workaholic. I didn’t think I was made for love. I had a purpose to do great things in the world, and I couldn’t imagine a man I’d be willing to change my whole life for, a man I’d be willing to give that up for. Then I met you.
“When I came here, my career was in shreds. I was reeling and looking for a safe place to lick my wounds. I may have saved your world, Campbell, but you saved me. You gave me the steady, unwavering support I needed to figure out who I was without all the things I’d used to define myself. You saw past the job, past the accomplishments. You saw me. You gave me new purpose, and you helped me realize that I didn’t have to give anything up. Because you were the man I didn’t have to change to be with. You taught me that I could write my own rules for the life I wanted—that I could not only accomplish those great things on my own terms, but I could find more joy and fulfillment than I could possibly imagine, doing them with you by my side. A partner in the truest sense of the word. And I want to spend the rest of our lives adding chapters to that new story, starting with becoming your wife.”
Sandy watched her son swallow hard, a manful effort to hold himself together. All around her, Campbell women and others threatened to drown out the rest of the ceremony with their weeping.
They exchanged rings and took their vows—to love, honor, and cherish. And when Reverend Prescott pronounced them man and wife, the entire town cheered.
Cam didn’t wait for permission. Grinning, he swept Norah into his arms and back into a dip as he took her mouth.
Reverent Prescott smiled indulgently, and his voice was both wry and amused as he announced, “You may kiss your br—”
The ground began to tremble. A murmur swept through the crowd.
“What on Earth?”
The fountain geysered up, water shooting high into the air and misting the assembly. After one collective gasp—and a few cries of shock—the townspeople watched in stunned silence. No one moved, and not a sound was heard except for the gushing of water. A few moments later, the pressure dropped, and, miraculously, the fountain returned to the happy burble Sandy hadn’t heard since Cam was a toddler.
Norah’s voice rang out in the quiet. “For the love of all things marketing, somebody tell me you got that shot.”
~*~
Pictures had been taken, the cake had been cut, the first dance had been had, and the reception had turned into an all-out street party. Walls of all the tents were open to the fine weather and invited guests mingled with the townspeople who’d just shown up to celebrate the First Couple of Wishful. That was what more than one person was calling them. And why not? Who had given more of themselves to the town than the councilman and city planner? But the cheerful crowd and the falling darkness made locating Waylan Crawford damned near impossible.
Trey hadn’t seen him at the wedding. Neither had any of the officers from Wishful PD, who’d been circulating as guests. Maybe he’d left. Decided that facing all these people wouldn’t be worth it. But that didn’t play for Trey. No matter how uninvolved Waylan had been in Cam’s life, he simply couldn’t imagine the man not wanting to speak to his son on his wedding day.
Since the ceremony itself, he’d stayed within line sight of Sandy as much as possible, without actually catching her attention. They’d had a Moment during the procession. Had she been thinking about their wedding, unconventional though it had been? Had she been missing him? God knew, the past few days he’d felt like he was missing a limb. He didn’t quite know what to do with the unreasonable hope that flared in his chest. So, he stayed out of her way—a feat easily accomplished, as she was tied up with mother of the groom duties.
The speeches started. From the dance floor that had been erected near the catering tent, Norah and Cam eloquently thanked the townsfolk for the part they played in making this wedding happen. Trey circled around the edge, weaving through guests. Mitch Campbell gave his best man speech, then passed off the mic to his sister, as the maid of honor.
Kane appeared like some kind of ghost. “No sign.”
“You don’t really think he’s gone, do you?”
“If he is, the feds are gonna be pissed. They’ve just arrived.”
Applause swept the crowd. Miranda handed the microphone to Sandy.
Sandy smiled at her town, and Trey’s heart gave a little tug to see it. She looked a little tired, but radiantly happy, and utterly beautiful. “Like my son and daughter-in-law, I want to say thank you to every single person who pitched in to make this happen. And I want to give a round of applause and say a special thanks to the man who worked tirelessly behind the scenes—”
“Why thank you, honey.”
Sandy froze as Waylan melted out of the throng and slipped his arm tight around her waist.
That son of a bitch.
Trey edged closer, his hands curled to fists. The police hesitated at the periphery, and every single Campbell was ready to brawl, but no one moved, waiting to take Sandy’s lead. There was no mistaking the death glare she turned on her ex-husband, but she didn’t shout, didn’t shove, didn’t do anything to draw further attention to the wrongness of the situation. Instead, she lowered the mic and spoke in low tones.
Waylan’s voice carried. “I just wanted to say a few words to my boy and his bride.” He grabbed the microphone from her hand.
“Damn, that’s ballsy,” Kane muttered.
The bastard’s hand was on her. Trey wanted to break it, wanted to twist Waylan’s
arm behind his back and drop him to his knees. But he remembered what Sandy had said.
I don’t need you to ride in like some knight on a charger to come to my rescue.
She wouldn’t want a scene, so Trey stayed put, acid churning in his gut.
When Pete took a step forward, Sandy shook her head just once as Waylan began to speak.
“I’m so proud of my boy. My work has kept me traveling, without as much time with my son as I’d have liked, and it’s good to see that hereditary Crawford charm served him so well, landing him not only such a pretty bride, but a place on the city council, and the affections of the townspeople, who came together to make this day happen. Good job, son.” He gave Norah a salacious wink that had Trey rethinking his position on the sidelines.
The unmitigated gall of the man. To reduce Norah to a pretty face and Cam’s accomplishments and relationship with the town to nothing more than the result of a few glib words.
Across the stage, Cam’s hands were bunched into fists, rage written across his face. Norah had him by the arm, murmuring something in low tones. The voice of reason. How much longer would it hold? Trey’s own restraint was wearing thin.
Waylan’s eyes fixed on something well behind Trey. The feds? His arm tightened around Sandy, and he took a step back, pulling her with him.
“What are you doing?” The mic in Waylan’s hand caught her whispered question.
“We need to have a chat,” he murmured.
A muscle ticked in Sandy’s jaw and she shut her eyes for a moment, as if praying or counting for patience. When she opened them again, her gaze found Trey’s. A plea was written clear on her face. But a plea for what? To stay back as she’d always wanted? Or to intervene?
Waylan was starting to tug her off stage.
To hell with it. He wasn’t letting this chance go to waste.
Trey stalked onto the empty dance floor, Waylan in his sights. “Get your hands off her.” His voice rang out clear in the silence, even without a microphone.
Waylan’s eyes went wide with feigned surprise. “What? I’m just having a moment with my wife.”