by Liz Isaacson
There would be no steps to climb this time. Nowhere to hide if Whitney didn’t show up.
But she was already on the property, as she’d arrived with her mother an hour ago. Her sister had then come, and surprisingly, Callie had gone upstairs, where Jeremiah assumed Whitney had taken over one of the unused bedrooms so she could get ready.
He stepped over to the mirror and set his cowboy hat in place. It was a brand-new one he’d bought only days ago, specifically for his wedding. He’d kept nothing from last time, and he hadn’t owned a hat this nice since standing at the altar years ago.
His heart beat irregularly, and everything went white. He reached for the countertop in the bathroom, grounding himself against the cold granite. “It’s okay,” he whispered to himself. He looked up and into his own eyes. “You love her.”
But he still had the same old pesky problem that had been the root of his issue at the last wedding too. Did the woman he was about to marry love him?
He still didn’t know.
“Doesn’t matter,” he told his reflection. “That was the deal anyway. She’s not your wife. She’s your bogus bride.”
With the pep talk finished, he left the bathroom and the master suite. He found Rhett and Tripp in the kitchen, looking for something to eat.
“Dinner is literally in less than an hour,” Jeremiah said.
Rhett whistled in response, scanning Jeremiah in his tuxedo. “Wow, brother. You look amazing.” He took him into a brotherly embrace and clapped him on the back. “Are you ready to do this again?”
“I think I might throw up,” Jeremiah said, not wanting to admit any weakness but feeling safe to do so with Rhett and Tripp. “Where is everyone else?”
“Wyatt and Skyler and Micah are getting dressed in his room,” Tripp said. “Liam’s outside checking on something Callie asked him to, which Whitney had asked about…I don’t know.”
Whitney had procured a small wedding cake. He knew she had a bouquet and flowers for the men too. He’d paid to have their dinner catered, and all the food waited in a low oven or in the fridge. The table was already set. Every little piece seemed to be in place, and it felt like the ranch itself was holding its breath.
The front door opened at the same time Wyatt, Skyler, and Micah came down the hall, and noise started to fill the homestead. Jeremiah shook Whitney’s brother’s hands and told them they could wait here, in the air conditioning, or go outside to the tent.
They went outside, and Jeremiah opened the fridge too, needing something to quell the nerves in his stomach. Liam came inside. Jeremiah ate nothing. His brothers talked around him. He felt like he was floating somewhere outside his body, though he was aware of Rhett’s concerned eyes darting toward him every few seconds.
The minutes ticked by, and more guests filled the chairs outside. Evelyn’s father and grandmother. Wyatt ducked out the door with the words, “Marcy’s here,” falling from his lips. Skyler and Micah went to sit by Simone.
Whitney’s mother came downstairs with Callie, and they both hugged Jeremiah.
“You’ve got this,” Callie whispered to him. “Don’t be nervous. She’s going to show up.”
Jeremiah nodded, though he thought he might actually be more nervous about the fact that Whitney would be there than that she wouldn’t.
This was about to be very real, and all of his reasons for wanting this felt childish and stupid.
He turned toward the stairs to go tell Whitney this was a dumb idea. He’d proven to his family what he’d wanted to. They didn’t have to actually say I-do. She didn’t need to move in here. They could just go back to normal.
Normal.
Even as he thought it, he knew he’d never go back to who he was before. He’d changed so much in the past seven months, and he wouldn’t even know the man who’d held her hand at the New Year’s Eve parade so long ago.
“Time to go outside,” Rhett said, touching Jeremiah’s elbow. He turned toward his oldest brother, almost pleading with him to call the whole thing off.
“I can see the panic,” Rhett said. “What’s going on?”
Jeremiah swallowed, but the lump in his throat did not go down. “I don’t think she loves me.”
Even if the marriage wasn’t real, he still wanted to be loved. He wanted to be married too. He’d shatter if this didn’t happen today, and Jeremiah had no idea where he’d be then.
“I’ve seen her look at you,” Rhett said. “When she didn’t know anyone was watching. Trust me when I say she’s in love with you.”
The back door opened, and Whitney’s mother said, “Jeremiah? Are you coming? It’s time to start.”
He nodded at Rhett, his resolve gluing itself back together. He knew the lifetime of pain which could come from having someone refuse to come to the altar, and he wouldn’t do that to Whitney—or her family.
He tugged on the end of his tuxedo jacket and turned toward the back door. He took his place at the altar, all those eyes on him again.
Then the back door opened, and everyone turned and stood up. They all looked at Whitney now, and Jeremiah couldn’t tear his eyes from her either. She wore a beautiful white dress that hugged every curve in lace and beads. Her lips matched the red roses in her bouquet, and she kept her eyes on his as her father walked her across the deck, down the steps, and up the aisle that had been created under the big, white tent in the backyard.
“Live well,” her father said to Jeremiah as he tucked Whitney’s hand through Jeremiah’s arm.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, the motion natural and wonderful. Whitney smiled, actually smiled, and faced the pastor.
This is not fake, Jeremiah thought as he did the same. Please don’t let this be fake for her either.
She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.
“We’re gathered here today on this beautiful ranch to celebrate something just as beautiful,” Pastor Daniels said, beaming at Whitney and then Jeremiah. “What a blessing love is, in all its forms.”
He continued to talk, and Jeremiah actually liked what he said about relationships and love and building a lifetime of trust and respect.
But now that he stood here, at this altar, with Whitney at his side, he just wanted to rush to the end before she realized what a terrible mistake she’d made.
The I-do couldn’t come fast enough.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Skyler Walker almost scoffed out loud when Pastor Daniels said, “Love can heal all wounds.”
The man had clearly never been through anything all that hard. Not that Skyler wanted him to experience the scarring things of the world. But he wouldn’t say such ridiculous things if he’d had even a taste of the trials Skyler had.
He crossed his arms, hoping the pressure against his chest would keep the guttural responses he had inside. Dormant. Silent.
Because love did not heal all wounds. Sometimes love was messy and complicated, and it could carve out a heart and leave it for dead on the side of the hot, Texas highway. Sometimes love wasn’t enough, as Skyler had learned when he’d lost his mechanic shop and his girlfriend in a matter of days. Sometimes love was a cruel mistress that made a person do things they didn’t understand, even going back to a situation over and over again that wasn’t healthy for them.
“Always turn to each other,” the preacher said. “Work through your own problems, and be sure to involve God.”
Skyler could’ve scoffed there too. He could’ve stood up and yelled, “Where was God last year, huh?”
He stayed in his seat, his brain overheating with the length of this pastor’s speech. He hadn’t lived in Three Rivers for very long, and he’d skipped church as much as possible. It was a lot harder to do so here, when all of his brothers went every week and questioned him when he didn’t.
In Amarillo, he hadn’t had to answer to anyone, and he wondered, not for the first time, why he’d come back to the ranch for the summer. He wasn’t getting any younger, and he could’ve just sta
yed at the university to get things done more quickly.
At the same time, Skyler knew why he’d come back to the ranch—he still had a hard time thinking of Seven Sons as home—and it was because he didn’t particularly like college. Going to class wasn’t hard; it was just boring. Maintaining his fun, party persona wasn’t hard; it was just exhausting.
He couldn’t believe he was thirty-five-years-old and still had zero purpose for his life. None. Nothing.
In a lot of ways, he wished he were more like Jeremiah. Skyler admired his brother immensely for what he was doing at the moment. It couldn’t have been easy for Jeremiah to get dressed and stand at that altar again. But he’d done it.
Skyler had run from a lot of things in his past, and he wasn’t willing to face them again. He shifted in his seat and glanced at Micah. He and Skyler had been close growing up, and close through adulthood too.
He’d told Micah in confidence that he couldn’t imagine getting married, and Micah had actually agreed. Apparently, he had a woman in Temple that was making life very difficult for him, but he hadn’t been ready to share any details.
Skyler wouldn’t pry either. That was just how their relationship worked. He thought of the family meetings, and he secretly disliked those too. Skyler had done almost everything he could to stop being a Walker, and yet, he felt a sense of brotherhood and unity at this wedding that he couldn’t explain away. He also couldn’t turn his back on it.
So he watched, and he listened, and he wished with everything inside him that he could find the root of his issues and pluck it out of himself.
He simply didn’t know how.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Micah Walker’s mind would not stop revolving. He barely heard what the pastor was saying, though the speech on love was obviously moving. His mother wept on the row in front of him, and beside him, the gorgeous Simone Foster touched her eyes a time or two as well.
Micah himself was too hot to be wearing a suit. He needed a plan to make a clean exit from Temple. His semi-girlfriend there, Stephanie Sawyers, had roped him back into her life time and time again. No matter what he said, she had a solution.
“So look at those around you,” the pastor said. Micah couldn’t remember his name. He looked at Skyler, who looked angry and mournful at the same time. He turned toward Simone, her lovely lashes holding a teardrop or two.
Instinctively, and with his heart pounding loudly in his ears now, he reached over and took her hand in his. She smiled and ducked her chin, her fingers sliding between his easily. She squeezed, and Micah’s brain quieted. Everything in front of him became crystal clear.
He needed to get out of Temple as quickly as possible. He needed to make a clean break with Stephanie. He needed to come to Seven Sons Ranch.
And Simone?
So what if she’s part of the reason?
And his brain started around the merry-go-round again.
He hadn’t spoken to her since January, when they’d worked on her cabin together. And those had been a couple of good weeks, without stress and a cramped chest and the possibility of having to deal with a woman who never listened to him.
He couldn’t wait for this wedding to end so he could call Stephanie. And he wouldn’t listen to her this time. He’d simply say they were over, and he was sorry if that upset her, but he was moving to Three Rivers by next weekend.
Next weekend.
A light entered his mind, and he knew he needed to do exactly that. And to do it, he’d need help. Good thing he had six brothers, each of them completely willing to come to his aid.
Well, Jeremiah would be on his honeymoon, but the other five would come. They’d clean out his house, his carpentry shop, all of it. They’d get the trucks he needed, and buy him a new bed for the homestead, and keep Stephanie at bay.
He just had to tell them the truth. Tell them everything, which he hadn’t done yet.
The truth was, he’d enjoyed some space from his large family these past ten years. He’d needed it. But he wasn’t sure he did anymore.
“I do,” Whitney said, and Micah smiled.
“And do you, Jeremiah Joseph Walker, take Whitney Ann Wilde, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish, for now and throughout all time?”
“I do,” Jeremiah said loudly, and Micah felt like cheering. He’d done it.
Jeremiah took Whitney into his arms and kissed her, and Micah stood up and cheered along with everyone else. The happy couple turned toward their family and lifted their joined hands, and he knew in that moment he’d never be happy with Stephanie.
Perhaps he’d known that all along. He wasn’t sure why he’d allowed her to have so much power over him, or what about her drew him to her so powerfully.
A clean break, he thought as Jeremiah quieted the crowd. “All right, y’all,” he said. “Give me ten minutes to get dinner laid out, and then we’ll eat.” He and Whitney walked down the aisle and up the steps to the deck, more applause surrounding them.
Micah turned to Simone. “Well,” he said. “That’s that.”
“I’m so happy for them,” she said. “They’re so good together, you know?” She gazed toward the homestead, where the last of Whitney’s wedding dress disappeared.
“Good together,” Micah repeated, thinking it an interesting word choice. He would’ve said “perfect for each other” or “cute together.”
“I don’t care if he needs ten minutes,” Skyler said on Micah’s other side. “It’s a thousand degrees out here, and I’m melting.” He walked away, but Micah was content to let him go.
“He doesn’t really like weddings,” Micah said, the echo of Skyler’s confession about never wanting to get married still loud in Micah’s ears. He hadn’t worked real hard at finding someone to settle down with. He wasn’t like Rhett and Jeremiah, who both wanted the wife, the kids, the house, the dogs and horses, all of it. Perfect small-town Texas life.
But the last few years, Micah had learned how lonely his life was. Especially with almost all the brothers here at Seven Sons. He felt…left out. Left behind. And he didn’t have anything keeping him anywhere else.
“How can you not like weddings?” Simone asked.
Micah chuckled. “Well, not everyone does.”
Simone actually turned away from the homestead. “I need to run home and get my gift.”
“Gift?” Micah didn’t want to be left alone either. “I’ll drive you.”
Simone looked at him, curiosity on her face. “All right,” she said.
Relief washed through Micah. They walked around the house to all the cars parked out front, and Micah stalled. “Uh, I can’t get out.”
“Let’s walk then.”
“It’ll take longer than ten minutes.” And it was boiling hot outside.
“You’re right.” Simone hesitated in the shade of the huge oak tree. “We can go later.” She met his eye again. “When are you moving here? Or is that not happening?” She tucked her hands in the pockets of her dress, and Micah got the hint.
Not moving here? Not interested.
“I’m moving in next weekend,” he said boldly.
Simone’s eyebrows went up. “Wow, I hadn’t heard that.”
“Yeah, well, you’re the first person I’ve told.” He inched closer to her and casually put his arm around her waist. She simply looked at him, but the sparks between them were just as hot now as they’d been when they got in that paint fight in her cabin months and months ago.
“How’s the new cabin?” he asked as he removed his arm and held the swing for her. She sat down, and Micah joined her.
“It’s great,” Simone said. “I love it.”
He carefully reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together again. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Another heated moment passed between them, and Simone slowly shook her head.
Micah grinned, though he did still have some loose ends to tie up. And they needed to be tied quickly.
“Well—”
>
“Micah, we’re eating,” Tripp called from the front porch. “Have you seen Simone?”
“She’s right here.” Micah stood up and helped Simone out of the swing too. “We’re comin’.” He ignored Tripp’s interested look as he climbed the steps, Simone a few paces behind him. “Sorry. Lost track of time.”
He clapped Tripp on the shoulder as he passed, still grinning for all he was worth. He’d tell his brother everything at the family meeting that night. No need to have to say things twice, especially when all that had happened was a little hand-holding.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Whitney’s dress swished around the kitchen at Seven Sons, and she couldn’t erase the smile from her face. The Walker brothers weren’t quiet, and her family didn’t hold back either.
Tripp returned to the kitchen, with Simone and Micah right behind him. Whitney wasn’t an expert on either of them, but even she could sense the sparks between them. Wyatt Walker sat on the couch with a pretty blonde woman that had grown up in Three Rivers with Whitney—Marcy Payne.
They weren’t touching, but he’d brought the woman to his brother’s wedding. That said something to her. All of Jeremiah’s other brothers—except Skyler—were married, and they mingled with their spouses, talking to her parents or her siblings.
Dalton hovered close to her, a semi-worried look on his face. Whitney knew he was worried she’d disappear from his life now that she’d married Jeremiah. And the truth was, she was going to leave Texas for the next two weeks.
She wished she felt bad about it, but a lot of produce came on in August, and she didn’t feel bad about missing the extra hours in the store. Michael had hired another woman to do Whitney’s job, and he’d move her to another position once she and Jeremiah returned from New York City.
Her stomach wobbled as her mother enveloped her in a hug. “Congratulations, dear,” she said. “He’s simply wonderful. Perfect for you.”