Along Came a Cowboy (21 page)

“Is that why you never married?”

Crack.

I keep my eyes on the road, grateful for the darkness of the car interior. “Who knows why anything happens?”

“Yeah, but did you ever come close to getting married?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

Okay, obviously I'm going to have to work a little harder to get back to safe ground. “I never married because I never met anyone I could imagine growing old with.” A sudden vision of Jack, his brown hair peppered with gray, pops in my mind. I blink away the warm fuzzies and concentrate on what Jenn's saying.

“Oh. Well, there's still a chance you might.”

Is she trying to comfort me?

I hunch over the steering wheel and give her my best old woman voice. “Yes, you young whippersnapper, I suppose anything is a possibility. Even at this late date.” I roll to a stop at the light and wink at her. “Or I might decide that I like being single.”

“I guess.”

She doesn't sound convinced, but thankfully she drops it. Maybe the ice isn't going to open up and swallow me whole. . . tonight.

W
hose bright idea was it to have an outdoor wedding anyway?” Allie groans.

Mama Ruth continues to deftly weave tiny glass beads and baby's breath through the gorgeous updo she just created. She gives us a subtle “Handle this now” look.

Lark, Victoria, and I just look at each other then back at this exquisite creature. We're more used to seeing Allie with a garden trowel in her hand and dirt smudged on her nose.

Finally Lark says, “Honey, it's just a tiny cloud. It's going to blow right over.”

I smile. “She's right. Jenn and I heard the weather report on the way over here, and this afternoon is going to be sunny.”

“Yeah, I've heard that before.” Allie has her back to the dresser mirror per Mama Ruth's instructions. In her lap is a hand mirror turned facedown. Every time she tries to look in it, Mama Ruth gently slaps her hand. She casts a wary sideways glance at Mama Ruth and holds the mirror in her lap to keep it from falling as she motions out her bedroom window with the other hand. “Does that look sunny?”

I walk over and look out at the blue skies. “Honestly, it does.
There's just one little cloud here by the window.”

“One little cloud?” Allie wails. “And it's outside my window?” Her blue eyes widen. “That's not a good sign, is it?”

We all laugh then simultaneously cut off in midchuckle as we realize she's at least semi-serious. “You know those prewedding jitters you were saying earlier you couldn't believe you hadn't had?” Victoria says.

Allie nods.

Vic grins. “I'm pretty sure you have them now.”

“Really?”

“You know what you need?” Mama Ruth says and steps back to look at her handiwork.

“What?” Allie starts to pick up the large mirror on her lap.

Exasperated, the older woman snatches it away from her. “No lookin' yet. What you need is just. . .that.” Like a painter putting the finishing touch on a masterpiece, Mama Ruth gives a tiny twist to a strand of Allie's hair then steps back with a sigh of satisfaction. “There. No jitters now.”

She puts the mirror in Allie's hand.

Allie looks in it and gasps, then stands and faces the larger mirror. Mama Ruth holds the hand mirror so she can see the back of her hair and dress. “I look like a. . .”

“Princess?” Victoria guesses.

“Supermodel?” Lark adds.

Before I can guess, Allie shakes her head. “Like a bride.”

“A beautiful bride,” I say quietly, tears stinging my eyes.

She gives us a tremulous smile. “The most blessed bride in the world.”

“And don't you forget it,” Mama Ruth says, wiping her own eyes.

“Mom!” A knock pulls us all back to the present. “The carriage is here.”

Katie pushes in the door, looking perfect in pink. “Can we go get in the carriage? Wow! Mom, you look awesome.”

Miranda, beautiful in her purple dress, comes in. “When you knock, squirt, you're supposed to wait for someone to say come in.” She sees her mom and stops. “Wow.”

Behind Miranda, Allie's mother puts her hand to her mouth, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “You look beautiful, honey.”

“Now that we have a consensus,” Mama Ruth says, “let's get this show on the road.”

When we get within sight of the beautiful white horse-drawn carriage in front of Allie's mom's house, Mama Ruth insists she'd rather take her car than ride in something that might turn back into a pumpkin at any minute.

Allie's mom laughs. “I think I'll go with you, if that's okay.”

As they drive away, we walk over to the glistening covered carriage. The snowy white horses toss their heads as if in greeting.

“Mama Ruth is right,” Katie says. “This is just like Cinderella's carriage.”

“Only supersized,” Jenn adds, as she climbs into the spacious cab.

When the seven of us are settled in, the driver shuts the door, and in a few seconds, we're listening to the
clip-clop
of horses' hooves through the open windows. “I feel like we're in a fairy tale,” Miranda says. “I can't believe Daniel did this.”

“He's pretty amazing, isn't he?” Allie beams, all traces of her earlier nerves gone.

“Surely after the wedding she'll be back to normal, don't you think?” Victoria asks Lark and me in a faux whisper.

I nod. “If she's not, we'll have to institute a new Pinky rule.
Number 4—No being nauseatingly mushy about the man in your life.”

“Better be careful,” Allie shoots back. “You looked a little mushy yourself last night with Jack.”

“I—I d–did not!” I stammer.

“You should have seen her after the rehearsal when we went out to his place,” Jenn pipes up.

“Traitor,” I say under my breath, but I can't hold back a grin.

“To his place?” Victoria leans back against the padded seat. “Do tell, shugah. We've got all the time in the world.”

For the next few minutes, they tease me mercilessly about Jack. My own feelings are such a jumble I don't know what to say or how to react. I let out a sigh of relief when Allie gives me a wise look and changes the subject.

“The carriage did come with a price,” she says.

“I imagine it cost a pretty penny.” Vic runs her hand over the plush upholstery.

Allie laughs. “I mean Daniel and I made a bargain. He got me this carriage, and I agreed to leave the reception on the back of his motorcycle.”

Jenn looks up suddenly. “You're going on your honeymoon on a motorcycle?”

“Not our Allie,” Lark says. “How far down the road do you have to ride?”

Allie grins. “We're going to stop by his place and get his truck. But for him, me riding the motorcycle is symbolic.”

“I'm proud of you,” I whisper to her. Her fear of motorcycles and anything risky almost kept her and Daniel from getting together. She's come a long way.

She squeezes my hand. “If I can find a happy ending, you can, too.”

But happy endings aren't for everyone.
Thankfully, the carriage pulls into the park entrance and I don't say my thought aloud.

“Look at the crowd,” Katie breathes.

We all lean to look out the windows, and sure enough, the wedding guests are lining the path, watching our arrival.

“Might as well wave,” Lark says. “Feels like we're on a parade float,” Vic grumbles, but she waves regally.

When all of us but Allie alight from the carriage—really, it is the only way to get down from a carriage, right?—I instinctively look around for Jack. And I'm not disappointed. There he is, standing with his mother and Ron near the folding chairs. He gives me a discreet thumbs-up, and I feel myself blushing.

Jenn hurries to take her place at the guest book table, set up to the side where the green carpet aisle begins.

Mama Ruth claps her hands. “Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, if you'd like to take your seats, the ceremony is about to begin.”

Everyone obeys immediately. That woman has an amazing knack.

When all the guests are seated, Adam, in a tux and for once totally serious, takes his mother to her seat. Daniel's sister, Candice, is escorted to her place by her husband, just home from Iraq and handsome in his dress uniform. Allie said Candice didn't want to be in the wedding party because she wanted to be sure everyone knew that Daniel had family in the audience.

We get in line, the music starts, and Dylan takes Katie's arm. They lead the way down the aisle to where Daniel, resplendent in his tux, stands beside the preacher. Daniel's nephew, Elijah, escorts Miranda, and we Pinkies look at each other. Our turn.

Allie not only refused to choose a maid or matron of honor
but also decided to have Lark, Victoria, and me walk down the aisle together instead of having Daniel find three friends to escort us. “It's our wedding,” she'd said. “And we want our closest friends and family in it without having to worry about tradition.”

In keeping with her wishes, the three of us make our way down the aisle arm in arm.

When we're all in a row next to the flower-lined arch, “The Wedding March” begins. Everyone stands and turns toward the carriage as Adam opens the door and offers his sister his arm. When she alights, the crowd draws a collective breath.

I glance at Daniel. A broad grin splits his face, but his eyes are moist.

Join the crowd, buddy. Everyone seems to be sniffling and passing tissues. I'm sure most of the men would claim allergies, but the truth is Allie's Cinderella story finally has a happy ending, and the whole town loves watching it unfold.

After the ceremony and pictures, we line up for the receiving line. Then while Allie and Daniel go to cut the cake, we walk over to where the tables are set up for the buffet reception.

“You girls look just like a flower garden,” Alma says. “Whose idea was it for you to each wear a different color?”

Mama Ruth smothers a laugh. “They couldn't decide on one color. You should have heard them. They were arguing like junior high girls, so Allie suggested each wear her favorite color.”

Jack's voice near my ear makes me jump. “I thought red was your favorite color.”

I spin around. “Well, red was a little too bright to go with the others, so I settled for green.”

“Ah.” Jack gives me a knowing smile. “Good choice.”

Is he insinuating that just because I know green is his favorite color. . . ? “I've always worn green a lot,” I say in a low voice.

“I know. Why do you think it's my favorite color?” he whispers.

In spite of the fact that it's ninety degrees in the shade, I shiver. What if I'm losing my heart to this Casanova cowboy?