He blinked at her in surprise. “Monday as in a week from yesterday?”
“Yep. That’s the one. We’ll get the license tomorrow and I’ll call Viv, explain what I want and see if she can make it happen.”
“Sarah, don’t most brides take months, even a year, to plan a wedding?”
She laughed and kissed him. “They do, but Viv Dalton is a miracle worker. Just you wait and see.”
Epilogue
The following Monday at six in the evening, Mack Turner walked Sarah down the aisle Viv had created within a magical cascade of fairy lights in the center of the dance floor at the Ace in the Hole.
Monday, after all, was relatively quiet at the Ace and that meant the owner had been willing to close for a wedding—but really, since everyone in town was invited and most of them showed up, the Ace wasn’t closed at all. The place was packed.
The tables were decked out in yellow-and-white checkered cloths with wildflower centerpieces and candles shimmering in mercury glass holders. Sarah wore a floor-length strapless lace gown that she and Lily had found in a Kalispell wedding boutique. Her white cowboy hat had a long, filmy veil attached to the band. The flouncy, full skirt of her dress was perfect for dancing.
And they did dance. Starting with the first dance. Logan and Sarah held Sophia between them and swayed slowly to Keith Urban’s “Making Memories of Us.”
They served burgers for dinner and there was plenty of beer and soft drinks for all. Sarah’s mom took Sophia home at a little after eight, where a nice girl from up the street was waiting to babysit so that Flo could return to the wedding celebration.
By eleven, a lot of the guests had gone home. But most of the younger men and women were still there when Sarah jumped up on the bar brandishing her wildflower bouquet. Lily caught it with a yelp of pure surprise.
“You’re next!” Sarah called to her lifelong friend.
Lily laughed and shook her head. She didn’t believe it. But Sarah just knew. If she could find the only man for her right here in her hometown, certainly Lily could do the same.
* * *
Logan was waiting when Sarah climbed down off the bar. He swept her into his arms and out onto the dance floor. They two-stepped through three numbers and then the music slowed. He pulled her nice and close.
“Why the Ace of all places?” he whispered in her ear.
“You love it.”
“I do, yeah—but why did you choose it?”
She gazed up at him, golden-brown eyes gleaming, as they swayed to the music. “I guess because the Ace has always meant romance and possibility to me. I love it here. There’s music, people talking and laughing. Everybody’s having fun. Truthfully, I can’t think of a more perfect setting for us to say ‘I do.’”
Right then, Cole and Viv Dalton danced by. Viv and Sarah shared a smile. At the edge of the dance floor, Max was watching, looking way too pleased with himself.
Sarah smoothed the collar of Logan’s white dress shirt. “Your dad is such a character. I mean, just look at him, grinning like that. What is he thinking?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Not a clue.”
Logan nuzzled her silky cheek. “He’s thinking, One down, five to go.”
Sarah threw back her head and laughed as Logan pulled her closer. “What?” she demanded.
“This.” And he claimed her lips in a slow, sweet kiss.
* * *
Look for the next installment of the new continuity
Montana Mavericks: Six Brides for Six Brothers
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Rust Creek Falls Cinderella
by Melissa Senate
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The Maverick’s Summer Sweetheart
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A Promise for the Twins
by Melissa Senate
Chapter One
Nick Garroway had three items on his to-do list for this warm and breezy July morning, and the sooner he dealt with the complicated first two, the sooner he’d get to the third—the prize.
One: check on a woman named Brooke Timber. Make sure she was all right/see if she needed anything. He had no idea if Brooke was still pregnant or had given birth. He’d soon find out.
Two: visit his father whether the man liked it or not, despite the fact that Nick’s brother would probably punch him in the face if he stepped foot in the family home.
Three: buy a ranch far, far away from Wedlock Creek. He envisioned a couple thousand acres, a white farmhouse with a weathered barn, a few dogs from the local humane society running around, a horse, a hundred head of cattle to start, maybe some sheep. Definitely chickens.
Nick parked his Jeep in the public lot by the Wedlock Creek town square and got out, stretching his legs. It had been a long drive from Texas, and he’d started well before the crack of dawn. With his aviator sunglasses on and his brown Stetson pulled down low, he headed toward Main Street. He wondered if Dee’s Diner was still around. He hoped so. He could use a big plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and Dee’s really good hash browns with peppers and onions. And lots of coffee. An entire urn wouldn’t be enough to deal with the second item on his list.
He glanced up the street, which was bustling already at just before 8:00 a.m. with folks heading to work, into the coffee shop, the bakery, a line of little kids in Wedlock Creek Day Camp T-shirts turning into the gated entrance to the park just a few feet away, and lots of dog walkers.
He was glad to see Dee’s Diner still there, at the end of Main Street, with a swanky new sign depicting a cowgirl roping a plate of pancakes atop the door. Small towns were all about mom-and-pop businesses, and Dee’s must be doing well. He headed in, taking off the shades and hat and hoping no one would recognize him and make small talk. Nick wasn’t in the mood.
And who’d recognize him anyway? He hadn’t been back in Wedlock Creek in almost five years, since his brother had let him know he hadn’t been welcome that Thanksgiving and should spend the holiday from now on in Afghanistan “since he preferred military life and combat over his family.” His father hadn’t said otherwise, so Nick had stopped bothering to come home on leave or between tours.
> His brother’s scowling face came to mind. Good God. The thought of dealing with Brandon Garroway today almost made him lose his appetite. But Nick was starting a new life, and the only way to actually get going on a new one was to square away the old one. Nick needed to square away things with his dad.
He pulled open the door to Dee’s Diner and took in the delicious aromas of pancakes, French toast and bacon. And coffee. His appetite was saved.
Nick was greeted a warm hello, led to a small booth by a waitress with a coffeepot in her hand and, within five minutes, his order was before him, along with today’s Wedlock Creek Gazette.
The home fries were as good as he remembered. As he ate, he flipped through the newspaper, full of town happenings and local sports, ads and classifieds. He already had three solid leads on ranches a few hours or so from Wedlock Creek, but figured he’d check out any listings the Gazette might have. He scanned them—all too close to town. He did want to live in Wyoming—his roots were here—but a few hours’ distance between him and the Garroways sounded about right.
Nick forked a bite of eggs and bacon and was about to close the paper when a name in a boxed ad taking half the page caught his eye.
Nanny Wanted
Experienced, caring, tenderhearted nanny sought for relatively easy three-month-old twins.
Monday–Friday, 9–1. Hours negotiable.
If interested, call/text Brooke Timber:
(307) 555-1022
So, she’d had the twins. Nick didn’t know anything about Brooke Timber other than that she was very pretty—he’d seen a photo—had long brown hair, enormous pale brown eyes and a dimple in her left cheek, and that someone he owed a big favor to, the ultimate favor, had “done her wrong” and wanted to rectify that. Between having two reasons to come home to Wedlock Creek—making good on a promise to a fallen soldier and dealing with his dad—here he was.
He finished his mug of coffee and was grateful when the waitress appeared with a fresh pot and refilled. He tore out the ad so he’d have Brooke Timber’s telephone number. He’d already googled her address and had that memorized. She lived over on Oak Lane, which was within walking distance from here, a couple houses off Main Street.
He stared at the words relatively easy in the ad. That had to be a good sign that Brooke was okay, that she was fine and he could cross her off his to-do list after a quick visit to her home. A couple of guys in his unit had been fathers, and one talked a lot about his very colicky baby but had always said he’d give anything to be with the screamer rather than thousands of miles away.
Once upon a time, Nick would have said he didn’t know anything about that. Or babies at all. But now the stirring of a memory socked him in the gut, a little face with big dark eyes and shiny black wisps of curls, fifteen pounds at most in his arms, and he closed his eyes against it, downing half the mug of coffee to keep the face at bay.
Take care of business, he told himself. Check on Brooke Timber, talk to your dad and then you’ll be home free to buy a ranch. The land and hard work will make you forget anything you need to.
The waitress glanced at him with her coffeepot lifted, and he nodded and smiled. Oh yeah, bring on the third cup. He’d need it.
* * *
Waiting in a long line at Java Jane’s coffee shop, single-mother Brooke Timber hoped her three-month-old twins wouldn’t get too fidgety and start screeching before she could order a large iced coffee. She glanced at the huge sign on the wall, the menu handwritten in colored chalk. Small, plain iced coffee: $1.95. What she really wanted was a large iced mocha with whipped cream, but that was $5.45. And forget the cherry Danish in the display case. She could bake something at home for free—if she could find the fifteen minutes to stand still at her counter with flour and eggs.
Money was tight. Time was tight. Brooke’s nerve endings were tight.
“Ga ba!” Mikey gurgled from his stroller, waving his little chew toy, which he promptly threw on the floor with a big smile.
Brooke scooped up the sticky orange toy and shoved it in her stroller bag. Yes, fine, things weren’t easy. She’d known that would be the case. A single mother with baby twins, no family, trying to run a business—Brooke was a wedding planner—with four competitors in town? Her bank accounts, both personal and business, were dwindling. She could not, it turned out, “do it all”—at once.
“Ba ba!” Morgan gurgled at his brother and threw his own chew toy on the ground.
Brooke’s heart melted at Morgan’s thrilled, gummy grin and snatched up the toy; those happy faces of her boys never failed to ground her. Yes, she was stretched to the limit. But look at what she had. These two little dumplings: heathy, adorable babies. Before they were born, Brooke didn’t have a relative left in the world. Now she had two precious children. Life was good. A challenge, but good.
“Didja hear the news?” the barista was saying to the woman in front of her. Brooke was next in line and could not wait to be sipping her iced coffee, back out in the gorgeous sunshine. She planned to take Mikey and Morgan to the park, spread out a blanket, and she and the twins could watch their favorite nature show: two squirrels chasing each other up and down a particular tree with huge green leaves. Then she’d take them home for their nap and develop a plan to bring in more business. Of course, she’d lost out on potential clients, even when she’d had a part-time nanny—single motherhood made things that much harder on a new parent—so she had no idea how she thought she’d bring in new business with no childcare. The good news was that her industry—weddings—was big business in Wedlock Creek.
Despite being a small Wyoming town, Wedlock Creek was famous for its century-old wedding chapel, which came with a beautiful legend: couples who married there would be blessed with multiples. Some scoffed at the legend but there were multiples—twins, triplets, quadruplets and even two sets of quintuplets—all over town, so there had to be something to the legend, or just something in the water.
Weddings, particularly at the chapel for those who wanted many babies at once, were the name of the game here. There were five wedding planners in town, including two newbies who didn’t scare Brooke the way the two other established ones did. But none of her competition was trying to keep their beloved late grandmother’s twenty-seven-year-old business, Dream Weddings, going. Brooke was. And she couldn’t let her grandmother down. No husband, no nanny and very busy little twins aside.
“The Satler sisters are engaged!” the barista exclaimed, handing the woman in front of Brooke her change. “Isn’t that incredible?”
Brooke’s ears perked right up. The Satler triplets had gotten engaged?
When the woman moved to the pick-up area, Brooke rushed herself and the stroller to the counter.
“Did you just say the Satler triplets got engaged last night?” Brooke asked the barista. “All three of them?”
“Yup, it’s true!” the barista said. “And I hear they want a triple ceremony and a lavish reception.”
Brooke’s eyes widened, her mind whirling. A triple wedding. She would estimate the guest list at five hundred. Maybe 550.
“Isn’t that wonderful?” the barista cooed. “All three engaged on the same night, at the same time, in different locations. The boyfriends planned the whole thing. So sweet and romantic!”
“So romantic!” Brooke agreed, turning the stroller around and heading for the door. Forget the iced coffee that she could also make for free at home. She had a triple wedding to secure! She rushed the two blocks back to her house, with her mind hard at work.
“Ba ga ba!” Mikey gurgled as Brooke pushed the stroller up the walkway to her front door.
She paused and bit her lip. The boys would miss the squirrels. They loved watching those furry critters chase each other. “I promise to take you to see Lenny and Squiggy later,” she told them, opening the front door and wheeling the stroller through.
Th
e names she’d given the squirrels were a necessary reminder of her grandmother, who used to laugh her head off while binge-watching episodes of her favorite old show, Laverne & Shirley. Lenny and Squiggy were two goofballs, just like the squirrels. And for her grandmother’s legacy, Brooke would focus right now on Dream Weddings.
She took the twins from their stroller, and with one in each arm, headed into the Dream Weddings office, off the hallway. Her grandmother had turned a first-floor bedroom into an office and installed a door to the outside, with a porch, a hand-painted white wooden sign hanging from ornate iron scrolls, and lush satin white drapery in the bay window that was reminiscent of a gorgeous wedding gown.
With the twins in their baby swings beside the desk, she sat and turned on her laptop and created a Dream Weddings possibilities file for her prospective triplet clients. She talked through her ideas to Mikey and Morgan, two sets of big blue-green-hazel eyes hanging on her every word. Mikey got fussy, but a brisk walk around the office, with a back rub and extra-animated talk of pretty flowers and the best bands in the county, calmed him right down.
Forty minutes later, she finished her proposal, forcing herself to wait until the acceptable-to-call hour of 9:00 a.m., and then she phoned Suzannah Satler, the one triplet she knew from the knitting class she’d taken right before the twins were born. Brooke offered congratulations and her services as owner of Dream Weddings, “a full-service wedding planning company, right here in Wedlock Creek.” Because of that knitting class and how open and chatty Suzannah had been, Brooke knew quite a bit about the Satler triplets—that they loved country music, the color hot pink and all things glam. Brooke was able to excite Suzannah over the phone in one carefully crafted sentence.
The Satler sisters were due at Dream Weddings at 10:00 a.m. to discuss. Yes, yes, yes!
“I’m back!” she trilled to Morgan and Mikey, waving her hands in the air like a lunatic. Or just like a very excited wedding planner who had to sign the Satler sisters.
Her Favorite Maverick Page 18
