But his familiar blue eyes widened in recognition.
“Riley?” His tenor was coarse but recognizable.
“Ash,” she said, barely above a whisper, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
He stepped forward and wordlessly opened up his arms to her.
She stepped into her brother’s embrace and let the tears fall. They were both so stubborn. Why hadn’t she tried to reconnect with him before?
“It’s the Weaver blood,” Ash said, as if he’d read her mind. “We get something in our head and that’s that. We don’t budge.”
She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with the palm of her hand. Was it really going to be this easy?
No resentment? No arguments?
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he admitted. “Last I heard, you were in L.A., but I didn’t have a forwarding address so I couldn’t get ahold of you.”
Riley’s heart stopped cold. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d been so angry that Ash had cut her off, and so determined to make it on her own, that she hadn’t even thought that after years had passed, he might want to reach out to her to make amends. Maybe it was a subconscious thing, a way for her not to have to deal with her past. Even with her recent job loss and decision to move back to Colorado, she hadn’t been positive when or if she would have the courage to reach out to her brother.
And all this time, or at least for part of it, he had been wanting to reach out to her.
“I’m so sorry. I held on to my resentment for so long it just became second nature to me. I needed to make peace with my past and I didn’t.”
Ash scoffed. “Why would you? I was the one who cut you off without a cent. If you look up the word resentment in the dictionary, my face is right there in black and white.”
“You shutting down my cash flow turned out to be the best blessing ever,” she admitted. “I needed to find my own path. If you’d paid for everything, who knows where I’d be right now? And I don’t blame you for the way you felt about me back in high school. Daddy’s treatment of you was hardly fair.”
“It wasn’t. But that’s no excuse. By the time I realized I needed to man-up and put our struggles behind us, it was too late.”
“I hope it’s not too late now,” she whispered into his shirt.
He gently took her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “It’s not too late. I promise. But tell me, what brings you by tonight? It’s a little late—in the evening, I mean—for a reunion, isn’t it?”
“You’re right,” she admitted. “I need something.”
“Name it.”
Even knowing this was just the beginning, and that they’d still have issues to work out in the next few days, her heart soared at finally being reconciled with her brother. She sent up a silent prayer of gratitude.
“I have someone I’d like you to meet,” she said, turning toward the truck and gesturing for Matthew to join them. Surely, he could see her smile from there.
Matthew evidently hesitated, because it took him a full minute to exit the cab and walk up to the porch. His hat was pulled down low over his eyes and his hands were jammed into the front pockets of his jeans, as if he didn’t know what to do with them.
Or maybe he didn’t want to give into the impulse to throw a punch at Ash.
But they’d discussed this in the truck. The underhanded transfer of land had been her father’s fault. Ash had only been seven at the time. Matthew could hardly blame him for what had happened.
He skipped every other step and stopped next to Riley, his lips pinched into a grim line.
Ash’s eyes narrowed. He glanced at Riley with a stunned expression on his face, and then returned his gaze to Matthew.
“Wilde,” Ash said, his voice suddenly cold and hard. “What are you doing here?”
Chapter Five
He’d ruined everything.
Matthew knew he shouldn’t have accompanied Riley to her brother’s house. He should have insisted that someone else go along. But in the back of his mind he’d imagined a scenario quite different than what had actually happened.
What if things had gone downhill when Ash had answered the door? What if he hadn’t welcomed Riley with open arms?
Riley would have needed a shoulder to cry on, and for reasons even he didn’t understand, he had wanted those shoulders to be his. He’d been prepared to comfort her when Ash turned her away.
Except Ash hadn’t turned her away.
Their reunion couldn’t have gone better. Ash had taken one look at Riley and that had been that. The ten years that had stretched between them had disappeared in an instant.
And he was glad for Riley. He really was.
Plus, with as well as this filial reunion seemed to be going, getting Ash to agree to let them use the barn for the reception would be a given.
Until Riley had turned and gestured for him to join them.
He’d known it was a mistake, even as he’d exited the truck and joined them on the porch.
He just hadn’t realized how bad a mistake it was.
Ash was glaring at him as if he’d been the one who’d lost his land. If anyone had reason to be angry here, it was Matthew. But he had put all that aside for Riley’s sake.
“He’s with me,” Riley said, her strained tone suggesting her hackles were up.
Matthew didn’t want her to risk another rift with her brother on his account.
“I’ll wait in the truck.”
He turned to leave, but Riley snagged his sleeve.
“You are most certainly not walking away.” She turned back to Ash. “He is with me because we have a favor to ask you.”
Ash shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. I just didn’t expect Wilde to ever venture onto my land.”
His land? Half of his holdings had once been possessed by a Wilde. He was intentionally rubbing it in. Matthew might have planted a fist in his face, were Riley not standing there.
A shiver ran through him as he capped his adrenaline. He’d known what he was doing when he drove Riley out here, and it wasn’t to start a fight.
“I’m not here to make trouble,” Matthew said aloud. “I just want to help.”
“Help?” Ash turned his gaze on Riley. “Help what?”
She took a deep breath. “We need your barn.”
Ash lifted a brow. “My barn? You have horses that need boarding?”
“The barn you use to store tack,” Matthew clarified.
“Matthew and I are part of a wedding party,” Riley explained. “The best man and maid-of-honor. Our friends’ reception plans fell through and we thought we might be able to put together a country barn dance.”
“But neither of us have a barn,” Matthew finished for them, trying to keep the strain from his voice.
“Right.” Ash sounded as if he was waiting for something—probably for Matthew to let loose on him. Matthew gritted his teeth. If that’s what Ash was waiting for, he would be waiting for a good, long time.
To his surprise, Riley put her arm around his waist, whether to support him or keep him from lunging at her brother, he couldn’t say.
“So what do you think?” she asked. “Is the barn available, or not?”
“It will need a good cleaning,” Ash said hesitantly.
“We expected that.” Matthew said. “We brought brooms.”
“We thought we could put hay bales around the perimeter, and we’ll be bringing some tables for the reception dinner,” Riley added. “There’s not a huge guest list, but there will be people coming and going all day tomorrow. I just want you to know what you’ll be getting into before you say yes.”
Ash’s gaze shifted from Riley to Matthew and then back again.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Really?” Riley exclaimed, bolting forward to hug her brother again.
“Really. You tell me what you need, and we’ll get it done. We have ten years of catching up to do,” Ash said, and then nodded at Matthew, acknowledging his presence without quite
as much antagonism as he had first presented. “And other stuff we need to talk about. But we can table those conversations for now.”
With his arm still around his sister, he held out his hand to Matthew.
And Matthew shook it.
*
Getting the barn ready for the reception took the greater part of the night. Riley had caught a couple of hours of sleep on Ash’s couch and was now all gussied up in her bridesmaid’s dress, waiting for the signal to get the show started.
She gave herself a once-over in the mirror. The dress was lovely, an evergreen color that highlighted Riley’s hazel eyes. As for makeup, there was no amount of foundation or concealer in the world that would cover up the black circles under her eyes, and she went heavy on the blush to give her face some color.
Looking like a zombie notwithstanding, she couldn’t stop smiling. Somehow, some way, this wedding was a go. Chelsea stood before a full-length mirror, twirling around and admiring her gorgeous white satin dress from all angles.
Riley laughed. “I remember when I was three, I was a flower girl in a wedding. I had the prettiest purple dress, and I couldn’t stop spinning around and watching it float.”
“I’m not sure I can stop spinning, either,” Chelsea agreed with a giggle. “I’m marrying Brady in less than an hour.”
“And it’s going to be perfect.” Riley kissed Chelsea’s cheek and squeezed her hand.
Chelsea was beyond the point of caring about the details of the wedding. It was all about Brady now. But Riley was secure in knowing all the details had been taken care of.
Chelsea and Brady had made a wedding cake. It leaned on one side, but at long as it didn’t fall down before Brady and Chelsea had the chance to cut it, all was good. Everyone in the wedding party had brought Christmas decorations from home. The church was highly scented with fresh evergreen and all of the pews were decorated in red and green ribbons.
Cookie had come through with his fried chicken. He’d already started baking batches for the reception. They’d procured copious amounts of potato salad and baked beans from every deli in the area. Tables had been set in Ash’s barn, and wreaths and garland decorated the walls along with the old leather tack that had already been there.
Riley still felt a little awkward and strained around Ash, but that was something they could work on together after the wedding was over. And she was grateful for Matthew, who hadn’t restarted a feud even though he’d been given the kindling to do so.
Chelsea’s father knocked on the door to the Sunday school room they’d used as a dressing room and stuck his head in. “I have the photographer here, ready to do the garter business and the penny in the shoe.”
A handsome, dark-haired, blue-eyed man who was clearly related to Matthew stepped in after Chelsea’s father, carrying his camera and a bag full of lenses.
“You must be Declan,” Riley said, holding out her hand. “I’m Riley. We spoke last night on the phone.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Declan’s face reddened. “I brought my camera. I hope I can do this wedding justice.”
“You will,” she assured him. “Matthew has every confidence in you.”
Riley tried to make it as easy on Declan as possible, explaining all the wedding traditions before he had to photograph them. It seemed to her that it couldn’t be much harder than his still-life. Chelsea and her father were more than happy to freeze in the poses they wanted, hamming it up as they went.
One of the groomsmen appeared in the door. “The music has started. Y’all are up.”
With one arm threaded through her father’s, Chelsea grabbed Riley’s hand squeezed it hard, not letting go until they were just outside the sanctuary.
“Nervous?” Riley asked.
“Excited,” Chelsea exclaimed. “This day could not be more perfect, and it’s all because of you, Riley. You and Matthew. If you guys hadn’t been there, I don’t know what we would have done.”
“The whole wedding party chipped in. But I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I’m happy,” she assured her.
“Smile,” Declan said, snapping a picture. He looked more relaxed now, more in control. “Bride and the maid of honor, right?”
“That’s right,” Chelsea said.
“Riley,” came a coarse male whisper from a nearby hallway.
“Matthew?” She turned the corner and found him standing there, looking spectacular in his gray tux and black cowboy hat. His evergreen cummerbund made a nice contrast, but he was missing something. “Aren’t you supposed to be up in front with Brady?”
He chuckled. He actually sounded nervous.
“Yeah, I know. It’s this wretched tie. I can’t get it to go on straight and I feel like it’s choking me.”
Riley laughed. “It’s just your nerves.” She put out her hand, palm up. “Hand it over.”
Sighing with relief, he gladly placed the bow tie in her hand.
She adjusted the circumference slightly and leaned up to wrap it around his collar, careful not to knock his cowboy hat askew. She hooked the tie, tweaked his collar and was making last-minute adjustments to straighten the bow when Matthew tipped up her chin and captured her gaze with his.
Before she knew what he intended, his mouth descended on hers. For about one second she froze before she melted into him. He framed her face and she could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed her again.
“Mistletoe,” he whispered, pointing upward.
Riley glanced up and, sure enough, someone had hung a sprig of mistletoe just over their heads.
“Sneaky,” she said, kissing him one more time for good measure. After all, she hadn’t known the mistletoe was there before.
Suddenly they heard the click of a camera, once, and then twice.
Riley pulled back to find a grinning Declan aiming his lens right at them. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Moving from still life into wildlife.”
Riley and Matthew joined in Declan’s laughter.
“Now why,” Riley said, her heart expanding as she gave Matthew’s bow one last tug and met his sparkling eyes, “do I feel like we’ve been here before?”
Look for Declan Wilde’s story, Wilde at Heart, available in early 2018.
About Deb
~~Love Courageously~~
Publisher's Weekly Bestselling, award-winning author of 30 novels, Deb Kastner enjoys writing contemporary inspirational western stories set in small communities. She feels especially blessed to be able to include faith as a natural and genuine part of her characters' lives. Deb lives in beautiful Colorado with her husband and a pack of miscreant mutts. She is blessed with three adult daughters and two grandchildren. Her favorite hobby is spoiling her grandchildren, but she also enjoys reading, watching movies, listening to music (The Texas Tenors are her fav), singing in the church choir, and exploring the Rocky Mountains on horseback.
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HOME FOR HOPE
A Bitterroot Valley Novella
By Jessica Keller
Chapter One
The snow fell too quickly for Hope Beckett’s liking. And while the large white puffs were pretty against the night sky, the drifts building on the country road set her nerves on edge.
An orange light blinked on her dashboard. The image of a gas can.
“Of course,” she muttered, blinking tears away. Why did life always have to be this way?
But she couldn’t afford to cry.
Tears wasted time and energy she didn’t have.
Hope’s heart fell into the toes of her well-worn tennis shoes. Down to where rust patches on the car were letting in huge gusts of frigid air. Each
mile of road was quickly turning everything from her knees down to what felt like ice.
She snuck a quick glance in her rearview mirror. Ethan and Savannah were sleeping peacefully, their little fingers intertwined. The twins had always been that way—inseparable. She prayed she could keep them safe.
But in the middle of nowhere, in a car dangerously low on gas and no way of knowing if Cyprus Anders was still trailing them, safety was a vague hope, not a guarantee.
Back in their hometown of Jackpot, Nevada she’d had seconds—less than seconds—to sweep the car for tracking devices before loading the twins into their booster seats, tossing a few basic necessities into their car, and hauling it north. She’d found one tracking device on the underside of the car, but she’d been frantic and shaking when she checked the rest of the vehicle.
What if she’d missed one?
What if the next pair of lights on the road behind her was Cyprus?
Stop thinking like that.
She’d chosen north in an attempt to throw him off her trail. Only an idiot would head north into the mountains and December blizzards with a pair of five-year-olds in tow. Only an idiot would try to traverse iced mountain passes with almost-bald tires and a car that should have been junked four years ago.
Apparently, Hope was just such an idiot.
When she crossed into Montana, she’d chosen to take the path through Bitterroot Valley because it was known for having milder snowstorms than the mountain routes that hedged in the area. However, the snow piling onto her windshield defied the hectic pace of her wipers and declared the hurried internet researched she’d conducted on her phone at the last rest stop false.
Her gaze dropped to the temperature controls. If she turned off the heat, that would save some gas. But the twins were tiny for their age and didn’t handle any chill well. Why had she gone north? She could have been in Arizona by now if she’d headed south from the get-go. If her stupidity hurt one of her children, she’d never forgive herself.
Cowboys Under The Mistletoe: Five Christmas Christian Romance Novellas Page 30
