by Lila Felix
We got into the truck, the back and bed filled with our stuff.
The last thing in the world I wanted to do was bring her to Preacher’s house. It was hurting me already thinking about sleeping without her tucked against me right where she belonged.
I’d just have to marry her that much faster.
“So, I’m supposed to leave for Holland right after Valentine’s Day. And my birthday is on Valentine’s Day.”
She giggled and scooted over to the middle seat, refastening her seatbelt afterwards. “That makes a lot of sense. That’s why you’re so gooshy.”
I chose to ignore that dig.
“And you’re coming with me, right?”
This is the one topic we’d avoided and I was tired of avoiding it. Truth be told, if she wasn’t willing to come with me, then I would pass on the job. Tate was my number one priority and nothing short of death could separate me from her again. Not even Vikings.
She took my hand as a procrastination tactic and it worked. I swore that every time she touched me I lost myself in her more and more. How I had ever avoided her was beyond me.
“I don’t know, Bridger. Can’t we just wait until my follow-up doctor’s appointment before we plan anything? I just don’t want you to base any more of your life on me.”
“All of my life from now on is going to be parallel with you. Get over it. I love you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
All she did was sigh, exasperated with me already.
“You mind if we stop by the land before I have to take you home?”
“You just want to make-out in the woods. You’re not fooling me.”
“Nope. We’ve got plenty of time to make-out in those woods. Besides, I’m hoping for more than just making out after we are married. Why do you think I asked them to make the bathroom tub look like a baptismal?”
Tate slapped me as hard as she could on the thigh.
“Ow!”
“You DID not. Please tell me you didn’t.”
“Of course I didn’t. The plans are in the glove box if you want to see.”
As soon as she opened the glove box, I realized my mistake.
“What’s this?” She inspected the wooden box with care. I’d had the box made for her with her initials carved into the cedar. It was her Christmas gift, but since I didn’t know where she’d be for Christmas yet, I carried it with me everywhere I went.
“It’s a box.”
“Smartass. These are my initials.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
She turned it around and around in her hand and then moved to put it back. “You’re not going to open it?”
“Well, you didn’t say anything. I’m assuming either nothing is in it or you don’t want me to see it yet.”
I mulled it over while I exited the highway toward home. “You can open it when we get to the property.”
She squirmed next to me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes ma’am.”
We got to Constance an hour later. We had to pass up the original Wright home before getting to mine. I could’ve easily had a road leading from the old driveway to my land, but it seemed more private to have my own gravel driveway put in. Like it was ours.
“Bridger?” She gasped as we pulled in. The cabin foundation was built and the studs were already put in for the walls. The layout of the whole place could be envisioned easily. It was built in true log cabin style with the bark left intact. Most of it was built right from the trees removed from the land. I’d tried to get a wish list from her for the layout and the amenities, but she said she was just blessed to have a house at all. Looking over at her, she wore an expression of worry.
“What about the bottles?”
I loved how worried she looked about where they were like she was mourning them. “I guess they became part of the foundation.”
She pouted and I nearly blabbered my secret. We had decided no more secrets, but this was one for the books. She would thank me for this secret later.
“You wanna go in?”
“Yeah. It’s so beautiful.”
We walked up the driveway to the stairs and that’s when I reached over and scooped her up.
“We are not married yet, Bridger.”
“Ah, Darlin,’ I’m counting on yet. My whole life is betting everything it has on yet. That being said, there is no one else I will ever carry over this threshold. So give it up.”
She was still thin and weighed practically nothing. I took her on the tour, explaining what everything would look like when it was done. I picked her up again as we crossed through the door to the bedroom.
“Can’t be too careful.”
“You are a mess.”
There was something special I wanted her to see in the bedroom. There was a huge walk-in closet and a monstrous bathroom.
“Wait, that’s the closet?” She pointed across the room.
“Yep.”
“And that’s the bathroom?”
She was growing more and more confused by the second. It was all I could do not to laugh.
“Yep.”
“What’s that?”
A small room was built off the side of the master bedroom and while she could use it for whatever she wanted, I’d planned it for one purpose.
“I thought maybe you could use it as a sewing room—for all your wild outfits. I want you to go back to school when you’re ready. And I want to support you in whatever you do.”
“What if I don’t want to use it as a sewing room?”
I shrugged. She could use that room to play chess in for all I cared. I just wanted her to have a space of her own that she could pursue whatever she wanted. She deserved that.
She deserved her own island, but a country boy could only do so much.
"It would make a good nursery.”
She blushed and covered her face with her hands. I didn’t waste any time grabbing her up by the waist. But when Tate wrapped her legs around my waist, I knew that bringing her to Preacher’s house later just became ten times harder. When our mouths met, the insurgence of pure bliss washed over me and took me away. I could feel her smile as we kissed and that’s all I needed in the world.
Tate’s happiness was all I needed—always.
“Ahem. You know there’s no walls, right?”
I pulled back from Tate’s mouth and she buried her face in my neck in embarrassment. “My parents needed a TV. There are way too many siblings around here.”
Her whole body shook in laughter and it did nothing to quell my want for her. The sound of her happiness just made me want walls even more.
“Go away. This is our house, walls or not.”
“Hey! You build a house this close to family, you better get used to people just walking in.”
“Not if I lock you out.”
“You’d have to get doors first.”
Willa Wright was a pain in my ass.
“Give them a break, Willa. You’ll be there one day too and then all the brothers are going to give you hell.”
That made me let Tate go and turn on both of them.
“The hell she will. She won’t be there until she’s thirty.”
Cami rolled her eyes and threw her arms in the air.
“Word to the wise, Willa, find someone tough if they have to deal with these three galoots.”
We were all laughing when Tate’s phone buzzed. “Those people have ESP. I swear it. Grams just texted me not to stay out too late at the Wright’s.”
“She’s psychic. But don’t tell her that. She’ll throw Scriptures at you and make you read Exodus. Apparently psychic abilities are frowned upon in our church. Believe me.”
Poor Cami.
“Stock said he wants to talk to you anyway. That’s why he sent us. Get the girl home and then get yourself home.”
“Yeah.”
I waited until they walked away. Tate attempted to get away, but I stopped her and recaptured the position we were in again, pressing
her against the door frame.
“Say it. Say you love me right here in our house.”
“You’re just trying to make me blush again.”
I grabbed her by the hips and tugged her in tighter. “No, if I was trying to make you blush I’d say more about christening this room—and wedding nights—and honeymoons—and nurseries.”
Her blush turned a bright crimson.
Nailed it.
“Fine. Bridger Wright, I do declare, in this very home, that I love you now and for the rest of my life.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not good enough. Your granny is gonna be upset if you’re late. Make it right this time.”
She grabbed my face and pulled me so that our lips were touching, barely.
“Bridger Wright I will love you from now until the end of time. Better?”
“Much.”
“Now can I have whatever is in the box in your back pocket?”
Nothing slipped past her—nothing.
“Yes ma’am.”
I took the box from my back pocket and gave it to her, opening it so she could see it. I felt like an idiot giving her such a piddly gift. Even standing in this cabin that was costing Stockton a fortune, I felt like wasn’t enough.
“Tell me what each one is for.”
She fingered the charms and I realized they probably had more meaning to me than they did to her.
I pointed to the first one. “This is for the swimsuit I begged my mom to buy for you when you didn’t have one like all the other girls.” She gasped. I knew she didn’t know that, but there were no more secrets, other than one, that I wanted to keep from her. “This is supposed to be overalls for those cute ones you used to wear all the time. This one is a wild curl just like yours. The bottles and pieces of paper are for all the loves notes I wrote you. The church is the first place you kissed me. I thought the baptismal would be too telling. The hearts and the rings—those are pretty self-explanatory.”
She didn’t say anything and I nearly grabbed it back from her and started to apologize.
“Bridger.” She whispered. “Put it on me, please.”
“You like it?”
She smiled up at me with gray eyes that I could stare at for eternity. My heart pumped a rhythm in my ears waiting for her response. It felt like my whole life’s weight was on that one answer.
“I love it. But not as much as I love you.”
Epilogue
Tate
“Mrs. Wright,” my new husband murmured against my temple. “I’ll never get tired of saying that.”
I closed my eyes and let him hold me while we danced. Had life ever been this perfect? This blissful? I couldn’t even speak because of the fullness of my heart. It manifested itself into fierce emotion that was desperate to pour out of me.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing it,” I whispered thickly.
He clutched me tighter to his suit-clad body. I brushed my hands over his seersucker jacket and then slid my hand under his pressed lapel to the crisp white cotton so I could feel his heart hammer away.
“Good,” he growled. “Because you’re going to be hearing it for a long time. A very long time.”
I pressed a kiss to his jawline and hummed my approval. “You’re right about that.”
And he was.
We had spent the last three months in Holland while he worked out his smithing job. It had been quite the adventure. I’d spent the days healing from my treatment and growing out my hair.
That’s right. Healing.
I had found out in January, that I was officially cancer free!
The treatment worked! And my cancer had gone into remission.
I sat in Dr. Master’s office with my family surrounding me and Bridger at my side, holding my hand. I had come to peace with the outcome, no matter what it would be. But I had been thrilled to find out I had life left to live.
Lots of life.
Bridger hadn’t wasted any time.
Three days later, he asked me to marry him on the porch of our future home. He presented me with the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. He made it himself with his endless stores of skill and patience.
The sparkling white gold intertwined together, seeming to be made out of two different pieces. A gorgeous blue sapphire blinked at me with perfect clarity and on the inside, he had inscribed our names.
I broke down into happy tears when I found out I was cancer free and then again with his sweet proposal.
He promised me forever. He promised to love me, to cherish me and to never waste one single day with me. He promised me in sickness and in health. In richness and in poorness. He also promised that he would have asked me no matter the outcome of my treatments.
I knew that it was not possible to love him more.
He had been created for me.
And I for him.
We had struggles to look forward to; we had tough times that would eventually come. We had vows to make and then promise not to break.
But we also had each other
I had lived a lifetime of hardship, and I knew that my future was completely different than anything in my past.
It would never compare. It would never echo the difficulty of my past. Even if the cancer came back and we were as poor as dirt. It wouldn’t matter.
Because I had Bridger. I had someone to go through this with me. I had someone to take care of me and hold me through the suffering.
I also had someone to make every day good.
I had to go in for my six-month checkup in four weeks, the middle of June. And I was nervous. So nervous.
But not afraid.
Sure, I wanted to be cancer-free for the rest of my life. And I never wanted to go through chemo or radiation again. But I also knew that I could face it again with Bridger at my side.
I could face anything with him.
We’d been married tonight, May fourteenth, in our own backyard. The spring had blessed the woods with a vibrancy that spoke to my soul. Green grass had sprouted and the trees burst with fresh green leaves or fragrant blossoms. The air was warm and the breeze caressing.
Bridger and his brothers had built a trellis that we stood beneath as my granddaddy married us in front of God and all our witnesses. Carter, Willa, Cami and Macey had stood at my side while Bridger had his brothers standing with him, as well as my brother and a cousin I had only just met.
My daddy gave me away with the proudest smile on his face and my mama wept happy tears through the entire ceremony. Grams hadn’t stopped smiling in months. And even Cary and Dr. Masters had driven all the way from Nashville and attended the ceremony.
I had never felt more loved.
Bridger and I had promised each other no more secrets, but then he’d surprised me by hanging all the bottles he’d buried in his childhood around the perimeter of the backyard. He’d wrapped each bottle in a strand of white twinkly lights so that the rolled up message could be seen clearly. They made a beautiful decoration that everyone attending our wedding commented on.
But only we knew the truth of what was hidden inside those decorative bottles.
He had made our wedding day beautiful.
He had made my life beautiful.
It was unfortunate I was going to have to rip apart all his hard work so I could read those notes. Every last one of them.
Don’t worry, I planned to keep the letters and make him hang up all the bottles again.
I could do that now. I was his wife.
“I love you, Bridger.” My rain cloud. My rain cloud that had brought so much sun and warmth into my life that I had been changed irrevocably.
“I love you too, Tatum.” He paused for a long moment before asking, “So, you’re happy to be my wife?”
“It’s not possible for me to be happier.” My voice was a whisper of truth and conviction. I blinked through hot tears and tried to swallow back the pressure of overwhelmed bliss.
“Then, can I kick all these people out yet?”
I dissolved into laughter. “You can’t kick anybody out!”
“I can,” he swore. “It’s my backyard. I can do whatever I want.”
I pulled back and framed his handsome face with my hands. Behind him, the most beautiful house I had ever seen stood as the backdrop to everything I didn’t know I wanted. A five bedroom log cabin that displayed Bridger’s talented eye for detail and his complete love for me. The wrap around porch and the hand-crafted porch swing beckoned to my sore feet, but the master bedroom, that had so far remained untouched, called to my body and soul.
“Okay,” I whispered. “You’re right. Kick them all out.”
His green eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re serious.”
“I’m serious,” I whispered. “I want to be your wife, Bridger, in every way.”
His excited grin stretched across his face and my stomach flipped with anticipation. His eyes promised a night full of adventure and a lifetime that would follow suit.
I had jumped into this wanting to change Bridger, to give him back himself. But in the end, he was the one that changed me.
He gave me back myself.
And he promised to help me keep her for the rest of my life.
I loved this man with all that I was and that would never change. This was my happiness.
This was my happily ever after.
Instead of making a big scene, Bridger simply swept me up in his arms. My mermaid-style ivory dress swished with the movement and the pretty lace overlay got caught in his buttons. We giggled at each other, but he made no attempt to untangle us.
I brushed my short curly hair out of my eyes and settled some. I stared into his gorgeous emerald eyes and promised silently that he could do whatever he needed to in order to untangle us. As long as we were alone, he could rip the damn dress off if he needed to.
And he would probably need to.
I was making that prediction right now.
“Ready?”
I smiled at him. “Ready.”
Without saying goodbye or acknowledging our small number of guests, Bridger bounded up the porch stairs and into our house. His intentions couldn’t have been more obvious, but I was beyond caring.
And why would I? I was with my husband.