Eight months later…

Betsey slid the last of the cookies into the oven and took the mitts off her hands. She straightened, and felt her spine crack and pop as she stretched. Lord, have mercy! she thought. I’m getting too old for this kinda work. She smiled as she looked out the kitchen window. But it’s worth every Tylenol pill I gotta take later.

Every counter in the club kitchen was covered in massive platters of food, ready to roll out when the guests started coming later that afternoon. Tambre, Molly, and some of the other club women were finishing up the decorations in the courtyard outside the Lair, and the prospects were busy setting up every folding chair and table the club owned. Brick was outside as well, helping to “supervise,” as he called it when he sat and watched the two huge barrel smokers while they cooked ribs and BBQ while holding a beer in his hand.

Betsey glanced at the clear blue sky, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back to feel the heat of the sun’s rays through the glass. The early morning fog had already been burned off, so there was nothing to cover the beauty of the day. Fall colors were starting to show, dotting the mountains with bits of red and gold. The new River’s Edge Bar was almost complete. The club had hired a family construction company called Pub Builders, known for their innovative designs and work on bars. An Irish family, with the father, five sons, and one feisty redheaded daughter. They had been working on the project all summer, and the new place was bigger and nicer than the old one. Life was good.

Betsey turned, slipped the mitts back on, and pulled the crisp golden cookies out of the oven. She turned off the heat and finally let the appliance rest. Molly came in the kitchen, Tambre following at a slower pace.

“Bunting is up, tables are covered, both the round ones and the serving ones. Cake delivery just called and they’re gonna be here in a half hour. Weather is supposed to be good and stay that way at least for the afternoon. Probably get a shower or two this evening. Always happens this time a year,” Molly announced, plopping down in the closest chair and fanning herself. “Ooh, Lord have mercy! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m havin’ a hot flash!”

“Your boobs starting to sweat underneath?” Betsey asked with a mischievous grin. “I’ve got some cut-up chamois cloths I tuck up under there. Works pretty good!”

Tambre rolled her eyes and snagged a still-warm cookie. “Boob sweat ain’t nothing like the night sweats. Taz still has nightmares of waking up to the bed on fire. Swears our heating bill was cut in half that winter ‘cause I was hot enough to heat the whole house.”

Brick walked in as Tambre said the words “boob sweat,” and promptly walked back out. All three women died laughing.

Betsey wiped her eyes. “That’s my rough ‘n’ tough old man! He can face down a mountain lion, have prospects shakin’ in their boots, but anything about women’s stuff, he’s running away as fast as he can! I’d better get him his beer. He’s gotta big role to play in a few hours.”

She walked outside into the crisp air smelling deeply of the delicious scent of hickory and barbeque. She handed Brick a cold bottle and sat down in the lawn chair next to his. He grunted his thanks and leaned back, taking a long pull.

“Fine day, ain’t it, darlin’,” Betsey said, more as a statement than a question. “Good one to have us a wedding. I’m so happy our boy got hisself a good woman.”

Brick hiccupped and burped. “Damn miracle she’s alive. Damn near lost her. Woulda lost ‘em both.”

“You got that right, sugar,” Betsey reflected solemnly. “I ain’t never seen no one hurt that bad and live. Broke ribs, punctured and collapsed lung, concussion, so many scrapes and cuts… Lord have mercy! After hearing she was gonna live and then watching my boy fall to his knees, I knew they were gonna be in for the long haul. That’s a kind of love that only happens in them romance books Molly reads all the time.”

Brick threaded his fingers through Betsey’s. “I think we do a pretty good job ourselves, don’t we, Mama B?”

Betsey smiled, leaned over, and kissed the man she called her old man.

“Betsey!” Tambre hollered from the porch. “They’re here!”

Betsey waved and leaped up out of the chair. “See you up at the house, Papa B. You’re doing a fine job with them ribs.” She laughed.

* * *

Betsey watched the multitude of guests wandering around the courtyard and worried again for the umpteenth time about whether or not there was enough BBQ. A biker club wedding was always a big celebration, and brothers from other Dragon Runners’ chapters had shown up to see Mute and Kat get married. She was tempted to send a prospect out to get some ready-made from the Ingles down the road, but a sudden roaring noise cut through her thoughts.

“God A’mighty! I’m late!” she said out loud, and hurried to get to her spot.

Kat had been fine with just being an old lady, but Mute had insisted that they go the distance and she become a wife as well. His wife. She really didn’t want all the attention, but Mute never let up and wouldn’t give in until she agreed to the big wedding with all the trimmings. Betsey chuckled a bit. She had been in the hospital room when Mute stomped in the room with a fierce scowl on his face and a small velvet box. He had popped open the top, and barely let Kat glimpse the huge rock before he took her left hand and shoved it on the fourth finger. His look dared her to take it off. Kat had stared bewildered at her now-sparkling hand, and said to Mute as if answering his question, “Yes.”

The roaring got louder as the club members on their bikes got closer. They were riding in a two-by-two formation, coming up the long driveway to the festooned courtyard. Club flags were flying behind the men. Mute was in the lead on his massive black Harley, dressed in a tux with biker boots. Somehow it worked on him. Biker pageantry at its best, Betsey thought as she watched row after row come down the wide aisle, turn, and circle back. Mute drove up to the gazebo that had been put up for the day. The pastor had arrived and was waiting there already. Stud drove up and backed his bike next to Mute’s. He was standing as the best man, since Mackie had passed.

Betsey’s lip quivered a little. The old man hadn’t been able to fully recover from the blow Joker had dealt him, and even though he had healed up enough to go home, he was never able to move quite the same. He passed quietly in his sleep, taking a nap in his recliner. After the funeral, a letter arrived for Mute containing a copy of the old man’s last will leaving everything he had to him and Kat. No one had any idea how large that estate was until they looked at the property deed and bank accounts. Mackie had been a very wealthy man. Mute had been humbled by the gift, and used a good part of it, along with the insurance money, to get the new River’s Edge up and running, making it bigger and better than before.

The guests filled the rows of chairs in front of the gazebo, now flanked by row after row of club brothers. The music was nothing more than a boom box in front of a microphone set up with outdoor speakers. The prospect in charge of it started a recording. Taz drove up with Tambre riding sidesaddle behind him, wearing a long red dress and her property of club cut. Cutter followed closely with Molly, also in red with her cut. Betsey was driven up to the gazebo by Bruiser. All three carried thick bouquets of deep red roses.

The motorcycles revved up loudly, drowning out the sounds of the wedding march as it played on the boom box. Brick drove up slowly, his bike covered in flowers and bunting, Kat sitting sideways behind him, dressed in a long plain white maxi dress with spaghetti straps at the shoulders and more flowers in her loose hair. Molly had attempted to get Kat to wear a fancy beaded and sparkly dress, but Kat won that battle and had the dress made for her. She opted not to have a veil either. She was smiling large, and tears flowed down her cheeks. Brick eased her off the back and brought her to stand in front of the gazebo. Mute dismounted from his bike and stood there, waiting. He had eyes only for her.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. Mute took his vows by nodding, and Kat said hers in a quavery but firm voice. When the time came for the rings, she picked up the plain gold band and pushed it onto Mute’s left ring finger. Mute did the same with a delicate band encircled with diamonds, and then turned to get something from Stud. He held out a special-made cut with the Dragon Runners’ colors, top rocker, and the words on the back, Property of Mute. Kat lost it, tears of joy running down her face as she slipped on the cut that bound her tighter to Mute than any ring.

Betsey started clapping as Mute bent to thoroughly kiss his new bride. Deep-throated howls and yells filled the air, and bikes revved. Stud brought Mute’s bike around to the front, and the entire assembly watched, yelling and clapping, while Mute drove back down the aisle with his brand-new smiling wife riding on the back, holding him close.

As the rest of the guests followed the newlyweds to the lavish reception, Brick leaned over and put his arm around a crying Betsey. She snuggled into his bulky warmth.

“Can’t ask for more in this life. Riding free. Riding clean. Riding with a good woman at your back,” he intoned in his rough voice.

She rolled her eyes, dashed the wetness from them, and pushed him away. “I ain’t got time for your old-man philosophizin’! I gotta get up there and see to the food. No telling what them girls is up to.”

He guffawed and grabbed for her ass. “They ain’t gonna miss us for a bit. Let’s have our own honeymoon!”

“Get off, you horny old goat!” She laughed, not able to keep up her outrage.

“Love you to pieces, Betsey,” he suddenly declared, his face going serious as he looked at her.

She smiled back at him. “Love you too, Brick. Now let’s go celebrate!”