Meet Me at the Chapel by Joanna Sims Page B

have to think about finding her a new home. It’s not fair not to work her out regularly.”
    â€œWell, it means a lot to me. I’ve wanted to get back into horses for years, but it’s expensive. And even though I love my job—and I do—it’s just good that I’m not in it for the money.”
    â€œI remember you were a good rider,” Brock said to her, their eyes meeting and holding for a minute or two. “I remember that about you.”
    She remembered so much about Brock—a young man who seemed to have disappeared completely. What a crush she had had on that Brock! She’d pined for him as only a teenage girl can pine—and the fact that he’d been engaged to Shannon, a beauty pageant winner, had been a knife in her tender teenage heart.
    He was different now. It made her wonder—where had the old Brock McAllister gone?
    â€œI’m going to get Hannah ready to go. I’ll be at Bent Tree all day. Are you going to be visiting your aunt and uncle today?”
    Good question. She had been in stealth mode, avoiding her extended family. Not because she didn’t want to see them—she did—she had just wanted to do it on her own terms, when she was a little bit more rested.
    She frowned in thought. Her preference was to start working with Gigi. But she had been in Montana for a little over a week without visiting her aunt and uncle—if she waited any longer she was heading into “hurt feelings” territory.
    â€œI probably should.” It was a statement that sounded a bit like a question.
    â€œYou probably should,” he agreed with her without hesitation.
    Oh, all right. Fine!
    â€œI’ll call Aunt Barb now,” she told him.
    â€œShe’ll be glad to hear from you.” Brock started to head back to the house. “I saved some pancakes for you. Just nuke ’em if you want ’em.”
    Casey thanked him while she waited for her aunt to pick up the phone.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œAunt Barb? It’s your wayward niece, Casey.”
    â€œCasey-face? I’ve been waiting all week for a phone call from you! What in the world took you so long?”
    She wasn’t too long into the conversation with her aunt before they made arrangements for her to have lunch at Bent Tree; it wasn’t her first choice, but sometimes with family, you had to put off what you wanted to do in order to do the right thing.
    Darn it!
    * * *
    â€œ Oh , Casey! Give me a hug!” Aunt Barb greeted her as she always had, with a big smile on her face, warmth in her striking blue eyes and a genuine hug filled with love and welcome.
    â€œHi, Aunt Barb.” Casey hugged her aunt tightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t call right away.”
    Aunt Barb nodded her head. “I was very upset with you. I couldn’t understand why you didn’t call us when you ran into trouble with the truck—when you needed a place to stay. Do you want some coffee? I just put a fresh pot on.”
    Casey declined the coffee—she had already had two cups of Brock’s personal high-octane morning blend. She followed her aunt into what had always been one of her favorite rooms in Bent Tree’s main farmhouse—the study. The walls of the study were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves jam-packed full of books. There was also a large hearth where her aunt hung stockings during Christmastime. Coming to Montana, to the ranch where her father had been raised, had always been magical for her. So many wonderful family memories were tied to this home, to this land—to the people of Bent Tree. And then, after her grandfather Brand’s last will and testament was read, the family imploded and nothing was ever the same. Her father stopped speaking to his brother, her uncle Hank. Family vacations to the ranch ended. She still felt a little awkward being at Bent Tree now. Perhaps that’s why she had put off coming. This was