Exactly One Year Later

Sawyer stood in the sprawling back yard of Roman Ranch, surveying the scene with great satisfaction. His home had never looked better than it did right now, on the morning of his impending nuptials.

The main house had been beautifully renovated. The rickety porch replaced, the whole house painted a sunny yellow color. All Remy’s doing, of course — she had a lot of opinions about how the renovations should be done, and they’d all turned out to be spot-on.

The guest quarters and cottages were complete too, just in time for the arrival of relatives from all over the South. As it turned out, Remy’s family was a heck of a lot bigger than Sawyer had known.

In the newly landscaped yard between the main house and the bunkhouse, amongst the blooming crocuses and blossoming trees, Sawyer and his brothers had built a huge white gazebo.

Sawyer liked the idea that he and Remy were going to christen the gazebo today with their wedding ceremony, the first of a lifetime’s worth of special events that would be held there.

Right now, there were dozens of people running around in all directions through the back yard, doing last-minute preparations. Three hundred guests would begin to descend in an hour, putting the wedding planner and caterer to the test.

“Daddy!”

Sawyer turned to find Shiloh climbing down the front porch steps, using the new hand rails to help himself navigate. Sawyer couldn’t help but grin at Shiloh, who was shirtless but wearing tuxedo pants.

“Hey buddy,” he said, walking over to scoop Shiloh up. “Did you escape while Grandma wasn’t looking?”

Shiloh cracked up, throwing his arms around Sawyer’s neck. “Yeah.”

“Are you ready to carry the rings today?”

“Yeah!” Shiloh said, laying his head against Sawyer’s shoulder.

“You seem tired, kid.”

“Mmm-mm, not tired.”

“Okay,” Sawyer said, rolling his eyes. “Guess you got that stubbornness from me.”

“Shiloh!”

Remy’s mother Eulah stuck her head out the front door of the main house, scowling until she spotted Shiloh in Sawyer’s arms. She was dressed to the nines, a royal blue dress with puffy sleeves and shimmering beads everywhere. She was also barefoot, and carrying Shiloh’s shirt and suit jacket.

“He was just looking for me,” Sawyer said, climbing the stairs so Eulah didn’t have to come down in her stocking feet. “I think he’s about ten minutes away from n-a-p-t-i-m-e.”

“I know he’s bored upstairs,” Eulah said. “All the bridesmaids fussing over Remy, makeup and dress pins everywhere.”

“How about I take him to Walker for a bit?”

Shiloh raised his head. “I looooove Uncle Walker.”

Sawyer patted his back. “I know you do, buddy.”

“He’s the coolest,” Shiloh mumbled, laying his head down again.

“That would be nice,” Eulah said. She started to turn away, then paused and eyed Sawyer. “You all set for today?”

Sawyer grinned. “Are you asking if I’m gonna run away and leave your daughter at the altar?”

Eulah flushed.

“No, just… checking in.”

“It’s all good. I’ve never been so sure about anything as I am about your daughter.”

Eulah immediately teared up, and Sawyer waved her off. “Go on upstairs, save that for the ceremony.”

He headed back down the steps, rubbing Shiloh’s back in soft circles, feeling his son’s breathing start to even out. He was going to be out like a light in a few minutes.

Sawyer walked through the side yard between the bunk house and the main house, figuring Walker or Colt would be near at hand. Along with Micah, they were going to be standing up with him soon…

So he hoped they were helping with the setup, not drinking whiskey in the barn.

When he walked around to the front yard, he stopped dead in his tracks. Pulling up right in the middle of the gravel drive was his father’s shiny, bright red Mustang.

The doors opened, and The Colonel and Marilee climbed out, shading their eyes against the morning sun. The Colonel was in full Navy dress whites, Marilee in a skintight baby blue dress and her usual impractical stiletto heels.

Remy, he thought instantly. She invited him.

His fiancee had been insistent that they invite Sawyer’s father, but Sawyer had put his foot down.

Or at least he’d thought so…

Sawyer’s grip on his son tightened, an automatic reaction to seeing The Colonel. Aside from church socials, Sawyer didn’t see his father at all.

That was just the way he liked it, too.

Still, as he stood and watched his father and Marilee walk toward him, Sawyer felt a bright burst of anger flare in his chest.

“Mornin’,” The Colonel said, casual as you please.

“Hi Sawyer!” Marilee said, patting her bright blonde hair.

“You have a lot of nerve, showing up here today,” Sawyer said, keeping his voice low and cool so as to not disturb Shiloh.

“We got an invitation,” The Colonel said, straightening the left sleeve of his dress uniform.

“From the woman who you threatened, bribed, and blackmailed to keep my son away from me, no less,” Sawyer gritted out.

The Colonel glanced at Marilee. “Go ahead inside, hon.”

Marilee glanced between The Colonel and Sawyer, gave Sawyer a brief smile, then tottered toward the main house. She was in for a rude awakening when she saw the renovations that Remy had done. Taking the cold and impersonal rooms of Marilee’s design, turning them into warm, elegant spaces.

Sawyer turned back to his father. He opened his mouth, ready to flay The Colonel’s flesh from his bones, but his father held up a hand to stop him before he could get started.

“Let me talk, just for a second,” The Colonel said. His back was as ramrod-straight as ever, but his tone seemed… softer. Just a little.

For a moment, Sawyer thought about following Marilee to the house, ignoring his father’s presence. After all, he had much bigger things to worry about today, like marrying the love of his life.

But some little part of him wanted to hear what his father would say. What defense could there possibly be?

“Fine,” he said, gently swaying with Sawyer in his arms.

“I thought I was doing what was best for you,” The Colonel said. “I thought… I thought that the girl—”

“She has a name,” Sawyer corrected sharply.

The Colonel cleared his throat. “Fine. Remy. I thought… you had a lot of potential, upward mobility in the Navy. You could go anywhere, do anything…”

“You’re saying you tried to pay her to get rid of my child… what, because it would have been in my best interests?” Sawyer asked, affronted.

“I never got to leave Catahoula,” The Colonel said, glancing off toward the fields. “I mean, I served, of course. But I was forced into an arranged marriage with your mother at nineteen. And then, before I could move her away, start over somewhere new… my father died, and I inherited everything. I didn’t have brothers to help me. It was just me, and whole lot of responsibility.”

“Doesn’t really explain why you did something so heinous.”

“I just… you’re my firstborn son. I wanted more for you than what I had. I wanted you to travel the world, live wherever you wanted. Have all the experiences I never got to have.”

“Why call me home from D.C., then?” Sawyer asked.

“Me and Marilee are leaving town soon. For a little while, at least. Going to Rome and Paris and Prague, all of that. I couldn’t very well leave the ranch here unattended. I assumed you three would decide to sell it.”

Sawyer watched his father for a moment. So proud, so stubborn. The same traits Sawyer himself often struggled with, only his father lacked the emotional capacity and self-acceptance to actually speak his feelings aloud.

It was a little sad, in a way.

He looked down at Shiloh in his arms, turning over a thousand thoughts in his mind.

“He looks so much like you did at that age,” The Colonel said, nodding at Shiloh.

Sawyer eyed his father. He wasn’t sure if it was the emotional nature of the day, or if he was just tired of fighting, but…

“I’m not offering to forgive or forget,” he said slowly. “But I will hold a truce, if you can be respectful of my son and my… wife.”

He almost choked a little on that last word. It was too new, felt strange as it rolled off his tongue.

“A truce is acceptable,” The Colonel said, his expression inscrutable.

“I expect you to apologize to Remy,” Sawyer said after a long beat. “A real apology. Not today, but… before you and Marilee leave for Europe.”

The Colonel stared him down for the longest moment, then inclined his head. “All right.”

“Sawyer!” Walker called, jogging around the corner of the house. Walker slowed, spying The Colonel. “What is he doing here?”

“We’re calling a truce for the time being,” Sawyer said, shaking his head.

The Colonel remained silent.

“All right…” Walker said, giving them both a skeptical look. “Guests are mostly here, starting to find their seats. I am supposed to grab Shiloh and bring you back to the groom’s suite in the bunk house.”

“Right,” Sawyer said, shaking his head. “I guess it’s time, huh?”

“That it is.”

With a nod to The Colonel, Sawyer followed Walker toward the bunk house. He ran into Shelby on the way and passed his sleepy son into her care. It was funny that they’d have to wake him up to take part in the ceremony.

Sawyer followed Walker to the little apartment he’d once occupied, which had been turned into the groom’s suite. Colt and Micah and Remy’s father Braxton were all inside, pinning flowers to their lapels and working on their bow ties.

Remy’d insisted on black tie for the groom’s party, and Sawyer had been happy enough to oblige her. He’d wear pretty much any kind of monkey suit, as long as it made her happy.

“There he is!” Micah said as Sawyer entered.

“Thought he’d have headed for the hills by now,” Colt joked.

“It would be a shame for me to kill him on his wedding day,” Micah said mildly.

“All right, all right,” Sawyer said, waving them down. “Where’s my jacket?”

He went through the motions, putting on his white dress shirt, white cummerbund, and black bow tie and jacket.

“You look spiffy,” Walker said, dusting off one of Sawyer’s shoulders.

“The three of you look like triplets,” Braxton said, amused. “Complimenting your brother is something close to vanity.”

“Har har,” Sawyer said. He was starting to feel a little tense now, like his tie was going to choke him, his suit a little tight even though it was custom-made.

“Colt, get out the whiskey,” Micah said. “He’s looking a little green around the gills.”

Sawyer smiled as Colt produced four shot glasses and a bottle of Eagle Rare Bourbon. He poured out four measures and passed them around. They all held their glasses up, waiting for someone to make a toast.

“To living your life without regrets,” Walker said.

“And treating your wife like a queen,” Braxton said.

“To new beginnings,” Micah chipped in.

They all looked at Sawyer.

“Here’s to Remy probably knowing she can do a lot better than me, and marrying me anyway,” Sawyer said, unable to hide a grin.

“Bottoms up!” Colt crowed.

They all knocked back the whiskey, wincing and laughing.

“I’m gonna need a mint,” Sawyer said. “I don’t want Remy to think I got drunk before the wedding.”

“Here,” Walker said, handing him a box of Tic Tacs. “And I bet she and Shelby and Larkin are having their own toast. I saw Larkin carrying up four bottles of champagne.”

“It’s going to be a long night,” Micah muttered.

Someone knocked on the door, and Walker checked his watch.

“It’s time, guys.”

They put aside their shot glasses and filed out the door. As soon as they came around the side of the house, Sawyer’s heart started to pound.

Hundreds of chairs were spread out before the gazebo. Garlands of flowers swayed in the breeze, gauzy white tulle wrapped here and there to add a soft touch.

The pastor waited on the gazebo, the guests in their chairs. A bluegrass string quintet sat to one side, warming up their instruments.

This is really happening, he thought.

As Sawyer and his groomsmen walked up the aisle, people started to whisper quietly.

He took his place on the gazebo, his groomsmen to his right. A soft hush fell over the crowd as the music started up, a beautiful banjo-tinged version of a pretty pop song that Remy loved.

Sawyer drew a breath.

Any moment now, Remy would appear.

For the life of him, he didn’t want to wait one more second…