Chapter 1
Colton
“Half the fun of livin’ is figuring it out as you go along.”
~ Papa Duke
My baby sister is married.
I’d always hoped this day would come. There were times—especially right after she was diagnosed with cancer—that I wasn’t sure it would. The specialists had given Cara a forty percent chance of survival. That’s how they’d worded it, but what I’d heard was that she had a sixty percent chance of dying. From the time she was twelve until she was seventeen, she’d suffered through clinical trials, chemo, and radiation before she went into remission. After being in remission for five years she’d been declared cancer free.
She’d beaten the odds. She beat cancer. She’d not only survived, she’d thrived.
I couldn’t be any prouder of her.
As I watched the bride and groom share their first dance as husband and wife under a blanket of twinkle lights, I knew that I should be feeling nothing but joy for my sister. I’d known Trace Briggs his entire life and so had Cara. She’d been best friends with his little sister since they were kids. She deserved the best and that’s exactly what she got. Not only was Trace a stand-up, honest, and hardworking man, he adored, loved, and practically worshiped my sister. He came from an amazing family that had always treated Cara like one of their own, and now she actually was.
This was what I’d always hoped, dreamed, wished, and wanted for her. So why was I so sad? Why did I feel like this was a wake instead of a wedding?
I tried to shake the melancholy cloud that was hanging over me as I took in my surroundings. The Old Town Hall building really cleaned up nice. It had what Cara called “rustic charm.” There were lights strung from the ceiling, colorful flowers on every table, and mason jars with floating candles that I had personally filled. Everyone was laughing, dancing, drinking, and eating. They all appeared to be having a good time. Cara was glowing and looked happier than I’d ever seen her. The wedding—and so far the reception—had gone off without a hitch.
As her brother I should be enjoying myself. Instead I felt restless. Alone. Which made no sense considering I was in a building filled with my friends and family. Well…one family member. The only one that mattered: my sister.
“Congratulations!” Mrs. Turner squeezed my arm as she passed by. “It was a beautiful wedding and Cara looks like a princess.”
“Thank you.” I tipped my head. “Delilah did a beautiful job with the flowers.”
Her youngest daughter ran the Turner family business, The Flower Pot. We’d dated briefly about four years ago, but it ended when we both realized we were just stand-ins for the people that we really wanted in that role. When I told her that I was still in love with my childhood sweetheart, she confessed that she’d been in love with one of the Briggs brothers since she was in preschool. I didn’t know which one it was, but since my sister just married one and her friend Destiny married another, they seemed to be dropping like flies, so it looked like she’d better make her move soon.
“Thanks, I’ll tell her you said so.” She smiled before returning to her table.
It’d taken some getting used to when people first started congratulating me for Cara getting married. Perhaps it was because the father of the bride wasn’t here. Every time someone extended their well-wishes or congratulations, a twinge of regret would pinch in my chest that our father wasn’t there to receive it.
Our parents hadn’t wanted to make the trip from Florida to Texas to attend their only daughter’s wedding because my dad was in a golf tournament. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Up until I was actually walking Cara down the aisle, I’d held out hope that they would show up. I pictured them coming through the large wooden doors of the church and my father stepping into his place in order to escort his baby girl. It wasn’t until the preacher asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” that the reality that they weren’t coming actually sunk in. I was able to offer the minister a calm reply, but inside I was reeling.
They didn’t show.
My parents missed Cara’s wedding day.
For golf.
I turned eighteen a few months after we found out Cara was sick. A week after my birthday, my parents came to me with papers to sign that would make me my sister’s legal guardian should anything happen to them. Their reasoning was sound at the time. If God forbid they weren’t around, I wouldn’t have to go through any court to gain custody of Cara, which would’ve been a nightmare, especially given her medical issues.
I still remember, as I held the pen in my hand, I’d briefly considered what would happen if the papers were actually needed. A vision of Cara in a white dress and veil with me beside her in a tux had flashed in my mind’s eye. So I’d imagined stepping up and giving her away, I just never dreamed that I would ever be doing so while my father was still alive.
When the song ended, the DJ’s voice came through the speakers. “And now, I’d like to invite Cara’s brother, Colton, to the dance floor. The bride is going to share a dance with her brother for a twist on the traditional father-daughter dance.
The crowd clapped as I met my beautiful baby sister in the middle of the wooden dance floor. Trace leaned down and kissed his new bride briefly before dipping his head to me and making his way off the floor.
Cara beamed up at me and I smiled back, hoping that my mood wasn’t evident as she slid her hand into mine and rested her head on my shoulder. I guided her across the dance floor to Faith Hill’s “There You’ll Be” as she leaned into me.
“How are you?” I asked. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m perfect,” she replied dreamily. I couldn’t see her face but I could feel the smile in her words. “I’ve never been happier. This is the best day of my life.”
I wasn’t talking about how she was feeling emotionally. “No, I mean are you tired? It’s been a long day and I don’t want you to overdo it.” Before I’d even finished my sentence, it hit me that old habits die hard.
For years after her diagnosis, when she was in and out of the hospital for various treatments and clinical trials, I’d had to watch over her, monitor her fatigue. Make sure that she was eating and taking care of her herself. My parents were there physically and financially, but emotionally they’d completely checked out. They’d spend as little time as absolutely necessary in the hospital and the few times when Cara was actually at home, they’d often go out. I’d noticed, but I hadn’t really cared at the time. Most of the time she seemed happier and more relaxed when they weren’t around. Then, less than a month after her eighteenth birthday, they moved to Florida. I was left to either run or sell Circle M, the ranch that had been gifted to me by my grandfather before he passed away. So, I’d stayed in Wishing Well, and continued looking after Cara through college.
We were the only family we had.
She lifted her head and her blue eyes shined up at me, tears pooling in them.
Fear gripped my heart. “What’s wrong?!”
My mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Just because the doctors had declared her “cancer-free” a year ago didn’t mean that I stopped worrying about her. It was actually the opposite. I was scared shitless that it would return and no one would know. Before she’d been given the all clear, she’d had regular doctor’s visits, blood panels, and there were medical professionals that were constantly monitoring her. It had given me a small amount of peace that I no longer had.
Now, every time she called I thought it was to tell me that she’d gotten a nosebleed, was having headaches, or had passed out and needed to go to the doctor.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured me. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
Not a chance in hell that’s going to happen. I didn’t reply out loud, but my internal response must’ve shown on my face, because she laughed.
I’d spent more than a decade managing her health, her doctor’s appointments, her schooling. I would do anything for my baby sister, but the reality was, she was an adult now. An adult with a college degree, a successful career, and a good husband. She didn’t need me. Not like she used to.
“Okay, well, you don’t have to worry about me as much. Especially since you’re going to have someone else to worry about in about nine months.”
I heard what she said, but I couldn’t quite process what it meant. “Are you…you’re…?”
Her smile grew even bigger. “You’re going to be an uncle. And I know that you’re going to be the best uncle in the world because you’ve been the best brother anyone could ever ask for.”
“Oh my god, Cara.” I pulled her tighter, into a hug, as we continued swaying. She’d always wanted to be a mom. Since, she was a little girl it was all she talked about. I knew that she’d been worried that she’d never be able to have a baby, at least not in the conventional sense, because of everything her body had been through. I had to admit that selfishly, I was worried about what this would put her through, but I pushed that aside. I knew that this baby was a miracle. And I was going to be an uncle. “Congratulations. You’re going to be the best mom. I’m so happy for you!”
She leaned back and looked up at me. I could see that she was gaging whether or not I was sincerely happy or just trying to be supportive. When she saw that my joy for her was real, she took a deep breath and exhaled. “Thanks, I was worried you would be…worried, but I should have known better. You just want the best for me. You always have.” Her voice got shaky as she launched into a speech I’d heard more times than I could count, “Thank you, Colt—”
“Don’t.” I cut her off the way I always did when she tried to thank me. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”
I didn’t want her feeling like she owed me anything. Every few months she would bring up how much I’d “sacrificed” for her. Like what I’d done was anything compared to what she’d been through. Like I hadn’t done what anyone else in my position would do. I hated when she talked like that. I never wanted her to waste one second of the life that she’d fought so hard for worrying about me or what I’d given up.
“Yes there is.” Cara was the sweetest person in the world, but also the most stubborn. When she set her mind to something there was no stopping her, so I didn’t try. “There’s a lot to thank you for, and guess what? You have to listen. Because it’s my wedding day, which means you have to do whatever I want.”
I grinned down at her, shaking my head as we continued our dance. “I don’t think that’s how that works.”
“Yes. It is. So shut up and let me talk.” she shot back with a large helping of sassiness. It was a newly acquired personality trait and as much as I didn’t love it directed towards me, it was good to see so much life in her.
I nodded, indicating my cooperation.
Satisfied by my response, she exhaled and continued, “You are the best brother any girl could ever have and I thank God every day that I have you in my life.” The moisture that filled her bottom lids swelled once more and this time a single tear dropped down her cheek as she smiled up at me. “You have gone so far above and beyond what you should’ve had to do for so long.”
I wanted to interrupt her so bad, I wanted to stop her and tell her that I’d do it all a million times over for her. But, I stayed silent because I could tell that this was important to her. I was biting my tongue so hard I wouldn’t be shocked if I bit right through the sucker.
She sniffed. “I know that you think what you did isn’t a big deal and that anyone would’ve done the things you have. But deep down, you know that’s not true. Look around. Mom and Dad aren’t even here. You were there for me when they couldn’t…or wouldn’t be.”
Her tears were really falling now and my chest squeezed with a painful ache. I hated seeing her cry. From the time she was born, it’d broken my heart. I remember standing beside her crib as a six-year-old, making faces and doing dances to entertain her when she was fussy.
I knew that I’d promised not to talk, but I couldn’t help myself. “Cara—”
“No. Let me finish.” As we continued swaying back and forth she took in a shaky breath and wiped her eyes. “I love you so much. Thank you for always being there for me. When I was scared, sick, tired, or mad. Thank you for just being there and not telling me that everything was going to be okay, or that I shouldn’t say things when I felt them like…”
Like mom and dad, my inner voice finished her thought.
I knew that’s who she was comparing me to. I couldn’t count the times I’d heard my parents telling her those things. In the five years that she fought cancer, ninety percent of the time, she’d kept a positive attitude and had a smile on her face. It’d been inspiring and heartbreaking to watch. But there were moments, snapshots of time that she would give into the other feelings that were completely normal and natural for her to feel and my parents would shut her down and tell her that she couldn’t talk like that.
She sniffed again as she continued, “You were just there. You let me vent, cry, yell, whatever I needed. And then, before I spiraled into a tornado of self-pity, you would make me laugh, or distract me by putting on my favorite movie or pulling out the Scrabble board. I don’t know how you did it. It was like you had a sixth sense. And it kept me going. It kept me fighting. I know that I would not be here today if I hadn’t had you.”
“Don’t say that.” I didn’t mean for my voice to come out sounding as harsh as it did. “You’re the strongest person that I know, Cara. You did the hard work.”
“Didn’t I just say that I loved you because you didn’t tell me not to say things?” She chuckled as she shook her head. “Anyway, my point in all this is, you’ve put your life on hold for me. You’ve sacrificed so much. Everything you’ve done, you’ve done for me. The ranch? I know that wasn’t your dream. I know that you wanted to leave Wishing Well. But you stayed. When mom and dad moved, you didn’t so you could take care of me. And even the reality shows, you did them for me. You never wanted to be on TV. You never wanted people stopping you for pictures, you never wanted to be a hashtag. You hate all that, but you did it, because I wanted you to. You did it to make me happy. Don’t even try to deny it, you’re a horrible liar.”
I could see why she saw things the way she did and part of it was true, but not everything. Before my parent’s unexpected move, I’d never planned on staying in my hometown and running the family business. After college, I’d wanted one thing and one thing only. To go find the only girl I’d ever loved, the one that got away. I wanted to be with her, to build a life with her and have a family. But it turned out that wasn’t in the cards and it had nothing to do with my parents leaving or Cara being sick. My fate was sealed on a cold December day at a bus station when I was seventeen. Months before Cara’s diagnosis and years before my parents left.
It was true that the only reason that I’d ever agreed to do reality TV was because a few years ago my sister had insisted that I go to an audition for Fairytale Love and when they cast me I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint her. Since then, I’d done four more reality shows because she’d encouraged me to. And I was about to film my sixth and final, Claiming Colton. But this one I wasn’t doing for Cara. I was doing it as a favor for Mia, who had started as a production assistant on Fairytale Love and worked her way up. We’d developed a friendship aside from work. We’d bonded over a shared experience. Her best friend growing up had been diagnosed with cancer and she’d spent a lot of her time after school and during the summer at the hospital with her. It gave us a shorthand with each other and I talked to her, opened up to her more than anyone else in my life and I would pretty much do anything for her as well.
She’d created the show hoping she could build her resume and move to Los Angeles. Next week, twelve girls would move to my hometown in order to date me. In the end I pick a “winner” (whatever that means) and we depart on a two-week vacation.
After it wrapped, I was officially retiring from reality TV.
“I didn’t just stay in Wishing Well and run the ranch for you but, yeah, the shows were your fault.”
Cara let out a heavy sigh. “Well, you don’t know why I wanted you to do them. Why it’s been so important to me that you go on them. It’s not because I’m obsessed with reality television, I mean, I am, but that’s not why I wanted you to do them. I always try to talk you into them because I want you to find someone and fall in love. I want you to be happy. I haven’t seen you happy, really happy since…”
“Bella,” I said her name with the reverence that people normally reserved for the Pope or royalty.
“Yeah.” Cara nodded with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I remember how happy you were when you were with her and I wanted that for you again. But now what I want is for you to stop doing things to make me happy. You need to live your life for you. You need to find your happy your way. I want you to promise me that you will not make another decision based on what is best for me or anyone else. You need to start putting you first. Please. That is what I want as a wedding gift. Promise me.”
There was no way in hell I could promise her that and since I didn’t make it a habit to lie to my sister, instead I teased, “I thought you said me walking you down the aisle was my gift to you.”
She didn’t find it funny. “Promise me,” she repeated sternly.
I knew that she wanted me to be happy, that she wanted me to have what she had with Trace. The problem was, I had that. Yes, we were kids, but that didn’t make what we felt for each other any less real or lasting. Just like lightening didn’t strike twice, I wasn’t sure if love did either. Certainly not once-in-a-lifetime love like the one I shared with Bella.
The song ended and the DJ invited everyone to get up and dance.
Saved by the DJ.
This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have and I was relieved that it was over. I started to move off the dance floor as people surrounded us, but Cara’s fingers gripped my arm and held me back. “Promise me,” she insisted.
“I promise I’ll try,” I answered sincerely.
I could see in her eyes she wanted more, but that was all I could give her.
With a look of reluctant resignation, she lifted on her toes and gave me a quick hug using a name she hadn’t called me since she was in pigtails, “I love you, bubbas.”
“I love you too”
As I walked off the dance floor I thought about what she’d asked me to do. Putting her first, putting anyone that needed my help first, wasn’t a choice for me, it was second nature. But maybe she was right. Maybe it was time that I ask myself what I wanted. What would make me happy?
The only problem with that plan was, I was scared I already knew the answer to both those questions. Isabella Connor. My first love, the girl I’d planned on spending my life with before the world cruelly tore us apart. And if that was my final answer in life’s game of Who Wants to Be Happy, there was no way I was going to end up a millionaire.