house. “When is Cara coming?”
The sound of her name made him take another breath.
He felt as if he teetered on the edge of an unpredictable wave that had the potential to swamp him. And it wasn’t the number of people milling around the yard or the decibel level that bothered him.
Cara was going to be here.
The other day on the ranch, he’d caught a hint of their old relationship, of that unusual rapport he and Cara shared from their first “hello.”
And he realized that he had missed her.
She’s not staying. She’s leaving as soon as she can, he reminded himself.
And if he wanted to move on, he had to get used to seeing her and keep old emotions from clouding his judgment. She wasn’t a part of his life or his life’s plan anymore.
Nicholas took a breath and headed toward the yard just as one of Trista’s teenage sisters came stomping down the sidewalk toward him. Her T-shirt was a neon storm, matching the flurry of color in her hair, and her blue jeans were ripped at the knees. “I’m not changing,” she yelled. “You have to take me as I am.” Then she looked ahead and her bright-pink eyelids narrowed over her eyes.
“What are you staring at, mister?” she snapped.
“Nothing,” he said, feeling intimidated by her strident teenage attitude.
“Like the shirt, Twyla.”
Though the voice behind him was quiet, the sound gave him an unwelcome jolt.
“Hey, Cara, about time you came,” Twyla said, her voice holding the faintest note of insolence.
“Hey, yourself. Why are you smart-mouthing Mr. Chapman?” Cara now stood beside him, facing down the impudent young girl.
Today her hair hung loose, a golden cloud that rested on her narrow shoulders. She wore a flowing kind of sweater over a pink tank top, strung with a couple of necklaces, and slim blue jeans.
She looked amazing.
Twyla folded her skinny arms over her equally skinny waist, ignoring Cara as her gaze slipped up and down Nicholas as if inspecting him. “Is this Nicholas, Uncle Lorne’s best man?”
“Yes. He is.”
Twyla’s eyes took on a peculiar glint. “He’s pretty hot. Trista said you used to date him,” she said, sounding catty. “Why did you dump him?”
Despite his decision to act casual, Nicholas couldn’t stop the sideways slide of his gaze toward Cara, wondering what she was going to say.
“This isn’t a reality television show, so I don’t have to tell you.” Cara gave her a quick smile.
Twyla rolled her eyes and strolled away, leaving Nicholas and Cara by themselves.
“So, I guess we’re supposed to help out with this thing,” Nicholas said, hoping he sounded cool and composed. “Do you have any idea what we’re doing?”
“Trista told me to show up early, that’s all I know.”
Nicholas pushed his cowboy hat back on his head as he glanced around the chaos of the yard. Mr. Elderveld was talking to Mr. Hughes. Lorne and his brothers were leaning on a stack of chairs, laughing. And from the house, Nicholas could hear more complaining.
“I’m getting nervous about this wedding,” Nicholas said.
“Has Trista talked to you about any of her plans?”
“Other than the fact that they’re getting married on the yard, no. And Lorne keeps telling me Trista is in charge. He’s a great guy, but he keeps talking about letting go and trusting, which doesn’t make for good wedding planning.”
“You’re taking this pretty seriously,” Cara said with a light laugh.
“Marriage is serious,” he said.
She caught a faint undercurrent and wondered if he was referring to his mother. Or her.
Cara pushed out her lower lip and blew out her breath. “I’m worried Trista has taken too much on. I don’t know how she’ll pull all this together in the time they have left.”
“Lorne doesn’t even know how many people they’re inviting.”
“I guess I’ll have to help her a bit more.”
“You don’t have time for that, do you?”
“I owe Trista a lot, so for her, I’ll make
The sound of her name made him take another breath.
He felt as if he teetered on the edge of an unpredictable wave that had the potential to swamp him. And it wasn’t the number of people milling around the yard or the decibel level that bothered him.
Cara was going to be here.
The other day on the ranch, he’d caught a hint of their old relationship, of that unusual rapport he and Cara shared from their first “hello.”
And he realized that he had missed her.
She’s not staying. She’s leaving as soon as she can, he reminded himself.
And if he wanted to move on, he had to get used to seeing her and keep old emotions from clouding his judgment. She wasn’t a part of his life or his life’s plan anymore.
Nicholas took a breath and headed toward the yard just as one of Trista’s teenage sisters came stomping down the sidewalk toward him. Her T-shirt was a neon storm, matching the flurry of color in her hair, and her blue jeans were ripped at the knees. “I’m not changing,” she yelled. “You have to take me as I am.” Then she looked ahead and her bright-pink eyelids narrowed over her eyes.
“What are you staring at, mister?” she snapped.
“Nothing,” he said, feeling intimidated by her strident teenage attitude.
“Like the shirt, Twyla.”
Though the voice behind him was quiet, the sound gave him an unwelcome jolt.
“Hey, Cara, about time you came,” Twyla said, her voice holding the faintest note of insolence.
“Hey, yourself. Why are you smart-mouthing Mr. Chapman?” Cara now stood beside him, facing down the impudent young girl.
Today her hair hung loose, a golden cloud that rested on her narrow shoulders. She wore a flowing kind of sweater over a pink tank top, strung with a couple of necklaces, and slim blue jeans.
She looked amazing.
Twyla folded her skinny arms over her equally skinny waist, ignoring Cara as her gaze slipped up and down Nicholas as if inspecting him. “Is this Nicholas, Uncle Lorne’s best man?”
“Yes. He is.”
Twyla’s eyes took on a peculiar glint. “He’s pretty hot. Trista said you used to date him,” she said, sounding catty. “Why did you dump him?”
Despite his decision to act casual, Nicholas couldn’t stop the sideways slide of his gaze toward Cara, wondering what she was going to say.
“This isn’t a reality television show, so I don’t have to tell you.” Cara gave her a quick smile.
Twyla rolled her eyes and strolled away, leaving Nicholas and Cara by themselves.
“So, I guess we’re supposed to help out with this thing,” Nicholas said, hoping he sounded cool and composed. “Do you have any idea what we’re doing?”
“Trista told me to show up early, that’s all I know.”
Nicholas pushed his cowboy hat back on his head as he glanced around the chaos of the yard. Mr. Elderveld was talking to Mr. Hughes. Lorne and his brothers were leaning on a stack of chairs, laughing. And from the house, Nicholas could hear more complaining.
“I’m getting nervous about this wedding,” Nicholas said.
“Has Trista talked to you about any of her plans?”
“Other than the fact that they’re getting married on the yard, no. And Lorne keeps telling me Trista is in charge. He’s a great guy, but he keeps talking about letting go and trusting, which doesn’t make for good wedding planning.”
“You’re taking this pretty seriously,” Cara said with a light laugh.
“Marriage is serious,” he said.
She caught a faint undercurrent and wondered if he was referring to his mother. Or her.
Cara pushed out her lower lip and blew out her breath. “I’m worried Trista has taken too much on. I don’t know how she’ll pull all this together in the time they have left.”
“Lorne doesn’t even know how many people they’re inviting.”
“I guess I’ll have to help her a bit more.”
“You don’t have time for that, do you?”
“I owe Trista a lot, so for her, I’ll make
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