Dylan swung the hammer again and again, sweat dripping from his forehead. So maybe he’d taken on a bigger chunk than he’d known when he’d bought this house.

But hey, the roof was new, and he did have a floor, so Cami couldn’t keep teasing him about those things. He had a backyard too—fully fenced once he’d put that in a few months ago—so Athena lived with him now. Had for months, almost when he’d told Cami.

And she couldn’t deny that she loved the German shepherd as much as he did. She brought her a ball every other week, and more often than not, it was Cami who took Athena to the park to play.

Of course, Dylan had devoted every waking moment of his life for the past six months to this house. He had floors his feet didn’t fall through. And all the rooms framed now. His bedroom was complete, and he’d even allowed Cami to paint it a nice light shade of blue and put in curtains. The kitchen was functional, and so was the bathroom.

Then he’d spent his time on the backyard, the fence, and now he was hammering, hammering, hammering on a new deck while Cami finished a weekend job. Then they were headed over to the downtown park, where the Summerfest was underway. She wanted a churro, and she was convinced they’d find some inspiration for their wedding in the booths that had been set up in the park.

Dylan wanted to do whatever Cami wanted, as he just liked spending time with her, even if it was wandering around a park and buying as many fried foods as they could get.

But he was going to get this deck done first, railings and all. He and Cami had talked about her moving into his place once they were married, and Dylan needed every spare moment between now and September in order to have the house and land ready for her.

“Knock, knock,” someone called, and relief ran through him.

“In the back,” he called to Pete, wondering how many cowboys he’d roped into coming to help Dylan get the deck done and the rest of the floor laid in the living area.

So maybe Dylan was desperate, and maybe he’d complained a little to Pete about the house.

“Oh, you’re making good progress,” Pete said when he arrived. “I brought a few people.”

Five more men came out onto the small patch of deck Dylan had managed to erect, and he almost started crying. “Thanks for coming, guys,” he said. “I don’t have enough hammers for everyone.”

“Oh, I saw the flooring in the house,” Squire Ackerman said. “I’m going to do that. Your air conditioning works great.” He grinned, and Dylan chuckled along with the other guys.

“I’ll work out here,” Cal said, while Garth and Ethan agreed to help Squire in the house.

Boone said, “I’ll stay out here. I don’t even know if I know how to hammer something in.”

Dylan scoffed. “I know you don’t.” He grinned at his best friend.

“I can swing a hammer,” Pete said. “I did build my own homestead, remember?”

“Oh, we all remember,” Squire said. “Too bad Brett’s not here. He’d whip us all into shape.”

A moment of silence passed, and then someone else called from inside the house. A female voice.

“It’s my mom,” Squire said. “She brought reinforcements.”

Everyone went inside, including Dylan, where Heidi Ackerman, who owned the bakery in Three Rivers, set an overly large box on his kitchen counter.

“Ma.” Squire hugged her and swept a kiss across her forehead. “Thanks for bringing food. I don’t think Dylan even thought of it.”

“I have food,” Dylan said, but when Pete opened the box, Dylan realized that he actually didn’t have anything edible in his house, not when compared to the doughnuts and muffins now sitting on his countertop.

“Thank you, Heidi,” he said, giving the woman a quick hug too. If there was anyone who rivaled his mother in her baking abilities, it was Heidi Ackerman. “Will any of this be at the wedding?”

“Oh, Cami would kill me if I served bear claws at her wedding.” She swatted at Dylan. “No, we’re having chocolate pudding cake. Cami came in and ordered it last week.”

“That’s great,” he said. “I can’t believe she didn’t invite me along.” Especially for the food visits.

“She’s busy,” Heidi said.

“Well, maybe you’ll make me one to sample.” Dylan flashed her his best smile and stepped over to the fridge to pull out a gallon of milk.

They ate, and then the work commenced. He chatted with Pete and Cal, who mercifully didn’t quiz him about anything to do with the wedding. Every time he went to his parents’ house, it was all anyone could talk about. Cami had to talk about it, though she did try to bring up other things, he knew.

A few hours later, Dylan hammered in the last nail and said, “Well, I think that’s it.”

“If you want help staining it, let me know,” Pete said. “We can get another crew out here.”

“Easy,” Cal said. “We had to turn boys away from coming today.”

“Really?” Dylan asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “When there’s pay and doughnuts, everyone volunteers.” He took off his cowboy hat and wiped his forehead. “Good to see you, Dylan.” He shook his hand. “Bri wants you to come get her every Tuesday and Thursday from now on.”

“Is that okay with you?” he asked.

“Sure is. She needs to get out of the house every chance she has.”

Dylan followed them inside, pausing to look back over the deck. Yes, this house and yard was going to be exactly what he’d envisioned it to be.

He turned and took a few steps into the kitchen before he realized the rest of the house was now done. “Oh, wow,” he said. “This is amazing.” And it would’ve taken him days to lay this floor by himself.

“Thank you,” he said. “You guys, thank you so much.” Now he could bring in the couches and rugs he’d bought months ago and that had taken up all the space in his garage.

And when Cami showed up later, his house would look like exactly that—a house.

“Is she here?” Dylan asked Boone, who’s guest bedroom he currently stood in.

“Yes, she’s been here for a while.” Boone handed him his bow tie, and Dylan proceeded to put it into position. Cami had shown up. That was good.

Not that Dylan was doubting her. He’d just never envisioned himself as the marrying type—until her.

“Thanks for letting us use your yard,” he said to Boone. “Nicole really is a master gardener.”

“She’d said September would be the best month,” Boone said. “And she was right. It’s like Eden out there.” Boone handed him a pair of cufflinks that belonged to Dylan’s dad.

Finally, Dylan felt like all the pieces were in place, and now he just had minutes to count down. Boone took him down the hall and through the kitchen, then into the backyard.

Dylan paused to take it all in. This would be everything Cami wanted, and all he could do was hope and pray that he could be everything Cami wanted.

He drew in a deep breath and went with Nicole as she escorted him to the altar in the shade. Pastor Scott already stood there, and it seemed everyone who’d been invited had already arrived and taken their seats too.

He hugged his mother and father, each of his sisters, and beamed at his cowboy friends from the ranch. Asher was there with his wife, and so were Dana and Abraham Rogers.

Cami’s parents and brother had come from Amarillo, and Dylan had spent a few evenings with them in the days leading up to the wedding. Now, only her mom sat in the first row, a few empty seats saved beside her.

Now all he needed was his bride.

Finally, something seemed to be happening at the end of the aisle opposite of him, and her very small wedding party appeared.

It was Athena, wearing a veil that had a band that went down around her neck. She sat at the end of the aisle, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and the crowd chuckled at her.

Behind her, Cami clutched her father’s arm and wore a beautiful, frilly white dress and a smile as wide as the state of Texas.

Dylan could barely breathe as she took one agonizing step at a time toward him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as her father passed her to him, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

They faced the pastor together, hopefully how they’d face everything in their lives—together.

Dylan squeezed her hand, his nerves on overdrive. Then Pastor Scott started talking, and it was like every Sabbath Day. Dylan’s troubles melted away, and when it was time for him to say “I do,” he did in a loud, clear voice.

“You may kiss your bride,” Pastor Scott said, and Dylan turned toward Cami, grinning like a fool.

“I love you,” he said, barely giving her enough time to return the sentiment before he tipped her back and kissed his wife for the first time.

Cheers and yeehaws went up from the crowd, and Dylan couldn’t help feeling like the luckiest man in the whole world.