by Beth K. Vogt
“Gondola rides, Jeep tours, fly-fishing . . . Telluride is definitely rustic.”
“You didn’t complain about the spa day—and I’ve noticed you and Logan have disappeared a few times.”
“I’m all for romance, Caron, and I thank you for providing the perfect location.” Vanessa tossed her a wink.
“Say no more.” Caron sighed. “And I’m thankful my father agreed to even attend the ceremony with my mother.”
“He’s been . . . pleasant since they arrived—and he seemed to enjoy the fly-fishing with everyone else.”
“I’m sure my mother insisted he behave himself while they were here, even though he doesn’t support me marrying Kade—and won’t be giving me away today.”
Vanessa braced her hands on her shoulders, careful not to mess Caron’s hair. “Logan’s here to do that. It’s a little unusual, but it will be fine—”
“Just another chance for me to realize no wedding day is perfect, right?”
“It does seem to be a theme you’re embracing.”
Caron stilled as Vanessa checked her hairstyle one last time, a prayer forming in her mind.
She could do this so long as she knew God was in this day. That he was with her.
“Vanessa—” Caron clasped her sister-in-law’s hand. “I need to see Kade.”
“What?” Vanessa took a step back. “You can’t do that. It’s bad luck—”
“Neither of us is superstitious. And you’re my maid of honor. Isn’t the maid of honor supposed to do whatever the bride needs her to do?”
“But not this—”
“Yes, this. Please. Go get Kade for me.”
Despite muttering under her breath as she left, Vanessa disappeared, ordering Margo to keep an eye on Caron as she left. What, did Vanessa think Caron was going to ask her to go get Kade—and then make a run for it? She had no intention of not marrying Kade Webster today.
Whatever Vanessa told him, when Kade returned less than ten minutes later, he grinned at her, looking as handsome as she’d imagined he would in his dark brown suit complete with a white rosebud boutonnière, and ignoring Vanessa’s complaint, “Well, now you’ve seen her before the ceremony!”
“And I’ll still marry her.” Kade turned Vanessa toward the door again. “Let me have some time with my future wife, please.”
With a huff, Vanessa ushered the bridesmaids from the room in swirls of mauve silk georgette.
“Are you all right, hotshot? Logan’s wife came marching in and demanded that I follow her, even though she thought it would ruin the whole day—”
“Yes. I’m fine. I mean, I’m not fine. But I will be once we have a chance to talk.”
“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?” Kade clasped her hands, his fingers warm against her skin. “Because I have to tell you, there’s no way I’m letting you back out on me.”
“No, I’m not getting cold feet.” Caron released Kade’s hands, slipping all the way into his embrace, her arms encircling his waist beneath his dark suit jacket. “I just need to change something about the ceremony.”
“Change something? What?”
Being this close to Kade already steadied her thoughts. “I know my father’s not going to walk me down the aisle. To be honest, I’m just thankful he’s here. That alone is a miracle. And it’s enough for today . . .”
“We handled that, Caron. That’s why Logan’s walking you down the aisle—”
Caron leaned back so she could make direct eye contact with Kade. “No, Kade. I need you to tell Logan that I don’t want him to walk me down the aisle.”
“Why not?”
“It just doesn’t feel right. Even though my father refuses to walk me down the aisle, I don’t want Logan to take his place.” When Kade took her hand, she held it against her heart. She needed to make him understand everything she’d been thinking this morning. “I don’t want to embarrass my father today. I don’t want the guests to watch my brother escort me down the aisle and wonder why my father is sitting there with them. You and I both know this is our decision to get married today.”
“If your father won’t walk you down the aisle, and you don’t want Logan to walk you down the aisle, then what do you want to do?”
“Let me tell you what I’m thinking. Then can we pray about it? And if you agree, will you go tell Logan about the change?”
• • •
It was her wedding day—and for just a few precious moments, she was alone.
She’d sent both Lacey and Margo off with a hug. Then one last moment with Vanessa, who handed off her bouquet of white roses and orchids, before walking onto the Mount Terrace area, surrounded on all sides by the San Juan Mountains.
And now, at last, it was time to walk toward Kade.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
Kade’s words seemed to be carried on a breeze of the brisk mountain air. Yes, she noticed Mitch and her brother. But she sought and found Kade, the one person she was looking for, her gaze never wavering from his face once their eyes locked.
• • •
Even though he and Caron had seen each other before the ceremony, he hadn’t truly seen her. Not until this moment, when she came toward him, as his bride.
And now he couldn’t look away.
At last he understood why so many people said the moment when a groom saw his bride was their favorite moment of a wedding.
He was the groom, watching Caron, his bride, approach him, her gaze never wavering from his face.
But Caron wasn’t just walking toward him . . . she was declaring, in a public way, “I love Kade Webster. I want forever with him.”
He and Caron had agreed she’d walk all the way down the aisle by herself. Kade had taken two steps forward before he even realized it. Before Logan stopped him with a strong grip on his shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“To get my bride.”
Logan released him, stepping back next to the rest of the wedding party.
Kade ignored the whispers as he increased his pace. Caron’s shimmering brown eyes widened as he came closer.
Caron stopped with mere inches separating them. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you would wait for me. Was I taking too long?”
“Not at all. I just decided I wanted to escort you the rest of the way—if that’s okay with you?”
Caron slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, offering him a smile as he drew her close enough so that the scent of her perfume, intertwined with the floral aroma of her bouquet, surrounded him. “We’re being extremely unconventional today, aren’t we, Mr. Webster?”
“Yes, we are, Miss Hollister.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “But it’s our wedding day. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to join the rest of our wedding party.”
“Can’t keep everyone waiting.”
Whispers and laughter followed them as they made their way back down the aisle together.
“About time you two got here.” Logan spoke just loud enough for the minister and guests to hear him, causing another ripple of laughter.
He and Caron had planned the ceremony so it was woven together with both joy and solemnness as they exchanged wedding rings—and then it was time for their vows.
“Kade and Caron have written their vows to one another.” The minister nodded toward Caron. “Kade instructed me that it was to be ladies first.”
• • •
As planned, Caron handed her bouquet to Vanessa, who whispered, “You can do this.”
Caron couldn’t resist a whispered “Thanks.”
She could do this.
She and Kade had written their vows weeks ago, and she’d memorized them little by little. Practiced them as she drove around Niceville. As she worked out on her elliptical. As she lay in bed at night, waiting to fall asleep, the words appearing in her head as she transitioned to being awake in the morning.
The words were there in her head. And even more important, they
were tucked into her heart—exactly what she wanted to say to Kade. And she wasn’t saying them alone.
“I choose you, Kade.
“People talk of falling in love with another person. But today is about saying before our friends and family—and before the God we believe in—that I choose you as my husband.”
As she paused for Kade to speak the next part of the vows, he gathered her hands closer in his, never looking away from her.
“I choose you, Caron.
“Because of you, I believe in second chances. In you, I’ve found the satisfaction of one my deepest longings—the beginning of a family—our family. You challenge me, enthrall me, intrigue me, and complete me.”
Even though the next words she spoke were for Kade, Caron raised her voice, wanting everyone to hear her pledge. “Even as I say, ‘I choose you,’ I know there will be days when I will fail you. When I will speak out of anger instead of love, when I will act out of selfishness instead of kindness, when I will respond out of doubt instead of courage. But I will always remember today and that I committed my heart, my life, to you.”
Kade’s voice rang firm, true, as he spoke again. “I expect there will be forces and circumstances that will strive to pull us apart, but I will trust in the power of our love and in God’s provision to grow us together into something new—something unbreakable.”
First she spoke the last part of the vows, and then Kade repeated it to her. “We are not best friends—yet. But I look forward to becoming your best friend as we discover what marriage means. I love you—today, tomorrow, until death do us part.”
• • •
Unforgettable. This moment of her wedding day was unforgettable.
While their guests enjoyed appetizers, drinks, and music at the Crystal Room back at the resort, the wedding party had climbed into gondolas that carried them over the mountains into Telluride. Once they were there, waiting Jeeps had driven them up to Bridal Veil Falls—stopping in the vale that had captivated Caron on her first visit there.
The roar of the waterfall muted the oohs and aahs of the group—as well as the murmurs of the tourists surprised to see a well-dressed bridal party appear out of a small convoy of Jeeps. Even as the photographer assembled them into a group, strangers snapped photos and took videos with their cell phones.
“Isn’t this spectacular?” Caron clung to Kade’s arm, her high heels sticking in the muddy ground.
“I would have to agree with you, Mrs. Webster—yes, it’s spectacular.” Kade leaned down and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers.
“Mrs. Webster. I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
Vanessa leaned over. “Now I know why you insisted we all have a pair of throwaway heels.”
“Exactly. No need to clean mud off the good pair.”
“Hey, newlyweds! The photographer is trying to take pictures. Stop talking.” Mitch stood next to Lacey, his arm around her waist.
Kade threw his arm around Mitch’s shoulder. “You’re next, my friend.”
“I would have beat you to the altar, if Lacey hadn’t insisted on a Christmas wedding.”
“Oh, stop complaining—” Lacey stayed focused on the photographer, the only one who probably truly understood her challenge.
“Would everyone please stop talking—look here—and smile?” The photographer’s voice rose above all the other noise.
“Sorry!”
Everyone spoke in unison and then laughed—and Caron knew the photograph would be one of her favorites of the day.
• • •
With the small gathering of family and friends, the reception in the Peaks’ Crystal Room managed to be both festive and intimate. Caron and Kade moved between tables, taking the time to visit with everyone, the photographer following them and snapping photos.
As the first notes of “I Don’t Dance” began, Caron followed as Kade led her onto the dance floor. She rested her head against his chest. “If it’s all right with you, I don’t want to talk. I feel like we’ve been talking with other people all night long. I just want to enjoy our first dance together.”
“Say no more, wife of mine.”
And she didn’t. She closed her eyes and relaxed in Kade’s arms. He seemed content to hold her, move to the rhythm of the music, and just be together. No words needed.
After their dance, Kade took to the dance floor with his mother, and then Caron and he cut their wedding cake, a two-layer confection—carrot cake for Kade and a more traditional vanilla with raspberry filling—decorated with lacy filigrees adorned with some of the same roses that she’d carried in her bouquet.
Caron and Kade joined Margo and Ronny at a table with Miriam. Within seconds, everyone stopped talking and stared past her shoulder.
“What is going on?” Caron twisted around—and found her mother and father standing behind her.
A smile trembled on her mother’s lips. “Your father wanted to ask you something.”
“He did?”
“Well, yes.” Her father’s voice was subdued. “Vanessa’s father and I were talking while you and Kade cut the cake. He told me that a father only gets one chance for the Father of the Bride dance with his daughter on her wedding day . . . and that I would regret missing that opportunity.”
Caron sat silent, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t even thought to request a song to dance with her father today. If he didn’t want to even be at her wedding . . . if he refused to walk her down the aisle, why would he want to dance with her?
Her father stepped forward, holding out his hand. “So . . . Caron, would you please do me the honor of dancing with me on your wedding day?”
Even as she stood and took her father’s hand, Caron blinked back tears. Her father’s invitation was an unexpected gift. “I would love to.”
The dance floor was empty as she walked beside her father and then stood facing him, waiting for the music to begin.
“I’m old-fashioned, you know. So I picked a classic song.”
“Whatever you chose is perfect.”
Her father took her hand, and she positioned herself like she used to when she was much younger, trying to learn the steps, and he would say, “Just follow me.” As Dean Martin began to croon “I Wish You Love,” she caught a glimpse of Kade standing with his arm around her mom, both of them smiling.
It was a dance . . . just a dance. But hidden within these moments was a glimpse of the future and what might come, given time and prayer and choosing to love.
She didn’t have to figure it out all by herself. Together, she and Kade would allow God to change them into who he wanted them to be . . . starting today.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Not to us, LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness.
(PSALM 115:1, NIV)
If I didn’t try my family’s patience a little more during the writing of Almost Like Being in Love, it wasn’t for lack of (unintentionally) trying. Writing a book is one thing. Deciding to tear a book apart and rewrite it after you’ve turned that book in to your editor is asking so much more of your family. It’s like saying, “I’m off deadline!” and then announcing, “Oops! I didn’t mean it!” Truly my family was extraordinarily supportive as I wrote and rewrote this book. They are the best of the best when it comes to loving a writer wife and mom, who is now also a “GiGi.”
I am a heartfelt believer in teams because I know the wisdom of others makes my initial book idea all the better. My writing is stronger because I have Preferred Readers who give me insightful feedback about what is working and what is not working in my story. Shari Hamlin, Mary Agius, and Sonia Meeter have been faithful members of that team for several years.
I also value the pursuit of dreams, and the book you are holding in your hands is a tangible expression of my writing dream coming true. A number of people known as my Dream Team have invested in my life to help spread the word about my books because they believe in my dream. I will nev
er be able to repay them for their encouragement and support. My hope and prayer is that I will be able to support their dreams, too. A special thank-you to Casey Herringshaw, who keeps the efforts of the Dream Team flowing smoothly—and keeps me sane as my VA.
It’s always fun to create characters when I’m brainstorming a new book and decide to, oh, make my hero and heroine Realtors. And then I realize that while some of my friends are Realtors, and yes, my husband and I have bought and sold a couple of houses, that’s the extent of my knowledge about that career field. Enter the experts, people like my friend-through-the-years Faith Gibson, who was a Realtor in Niceville, Florida, and my friend-thanks-to-our-daughters-playing-volleyball Rachel Neilson, who is a Realtor in Colorado Springs, and Linda Turner, a Realtor on the Emerald Coast, who became my friend thanks to her saying, “Sure, you can interview me.” All three women graciously answered my questions—and believe me, I had lots of them. Rachel even read my manuscript and offered some great input. I also decided Alex Madison would be an air-conditioner repairman, and guess what? I know nothing about that, either. But thanks to my friend and fellow writer, Alena Tauriainen, who owns an air-conditioning and heating business in Texas with her husband, I had my expert.
Writing this book had an aspect of “new” to it—several new editors, to be specific. I’ve known Beth Adams ever since I’ve been a Howard author, but now she is my lead editor. She’s the kind of editor who listened when I said, “I want to change the story—quite a bit,” and then said, “Go ahead”—even though I messed with the production schedule. Knowing she believes in me helps me believe in myself more. Katie Sandell . . . what can I say? To feel a kinship with an editor is a gift. And Ami McConnell is the kind of editor who knows books, but also wants to know her authors—and that is priceless in the publishing world.
I continue to be thankful for the input of Linda Sawicki, my production editor, and Bruce Gore, who creates my wonderful book covers!
There are some people whose names will always show up in the acknowledgments section of my book. Not because they have to . . . but because of who they have been in my life and who they continue to be.