Take a Chance on Me

by Jane Porter

  She rushed toward the RV. Tyler was sitting in the vehicle’s open doorway, waiting for her, and he stood up as she neared him.

  “Wow,” she murmured, a lump in her throat. It was her pink, her name, her dream… her mobile salon. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, not wanting him to see that she was shaking. “But this isn’t my RV. Mine is still parked behind my house.”

  “It is a different one,” he agreed.

  She frowned, confused.

  He crossed the patch of grass separating them. “Gram’s needed too much work. Everything needed to be overhauled, and even then, I had serious concerns about safety. I wasn’t about to have you on the road in rough weather, in a vehicle that was pretty, but unreliable. Ultimately it just made more sense to find something newer, with fewer miles, so it’d be in better condition.”

  “But that meant you had to buy something, whereas Bette’s was already paid for.”

  “The repairs to Gram’s would have been substantial.”

  “And yet I loved the idea of driving Bette’s RV.”

  “But Gram never drove it. My grandfather did.” His mouth tightened, jaw firming. “And I’m all for good memories, but I’ve always struggled with my grandfather’s hard stance on people and priorities. He alienated my father. He was critical of his grandsons. The whole reason Coby joined the military was to make him proud, and yet when Coby died, my grandfather couldn’t find any words to comfort my mother or father.” He grimaced. “I love Gram, but you don’t need her old RV, and thankfully, Gram agreed with me.”

  Amanda turned back to the pink RV, overwhelmed. She blinked back tears, and fought the tightness in his throat that was preventing her from speaking. All she could think about was the pearl ring in her pocket, and the discovery that Patrick had loved her mom, and had never abandoned her, and now here was Tyler trying to give her her dream.

  “You don’t like it,” he said.

  “No. That’s not… that’s not what I’m feeling. It’s that I’m not sure what to say.” Her jaw worked, the lump in her throat seemed to grow bigger, making it painful to speak. “I didn’t want you to do this for me. I wanted to do it myself, when I could afford to—”

  “Gram said it would hurt your pride. Seems she was right.”

  “This isn’t about my pride.”

  “Of course it’s about your pride. It’s your Achilles’ heel.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “In story terms, every hero has an Achilles’ heel, and that Achilles’ heel is what makes the hero great, but it’s what will ultimately bring him or her down.”

  “You’re saying my pride is my downfall.”

  He looked at her, brow lifted. He was so incredibly annoying.

  “You’re wrong,” she said tightly.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said cheerfully. “We all have flaws and faults. And for your information, I never expected you to be perfect—”

  “Because you didn’t expect anything from me at all, or at least, nothing good.”

  “No, what I discovered is that you’re surprisingly perfect. Even with your pride.” His expression was tender, and amused. “Mandy, baby, I love you. You’re not just everything to me, you’re home. You’re my world. Wherever you are, it’s where I want to be.”

  A shiver shot through her, making her legs feel weak. He didn’t mean that, did he? Was he even aware of what he was saying? She slid her hand into her pocket and desperately clasped the silk pouch, holding it so tightly that the pearl dug into her skin. “For now, you mean.”

  “No. Forever.” He reached for her, and drew her to him, ignoring her resistance. “Maybe you didn’t catch what I said, so I’ll say it more slowly. I. Love. You.” He was smiling down at her, and yet his voice was deep and a little hoarse. “You are home. Wherever you are, it’s where I want to be.”

  “Even if it’s on the road, in this pink RV?”

  His finger stroked her cheek. “Even if it’s living together in this pink RV.” And then his head dipped, and he kissed her lightly, before murmuring, “But maybe we don’t actually live in the RV? We removed the bed to make room for your shampoo bowls and salon chairs and there would be nowhere to sleep.”

  She laughed, and kissed him. He was awfully irresistible. “Tell me the chairs are pink.”

  “Of course they are. What other color could they possibly be?”

  She laughed again, and as she looked up into his face, his rugged, beautiful face with the gorgeous green eyes and movie star smile, she thought he might be as handsome as a romance cover hero, but he was better, because he was real, and he was hers.

  “I love you, Tyler James Justice,” she whispered. “Probably far more than I should.”

  “There is no such thing as too much love.”

  And then he kissing her again, the slow, deep bone-melting kisses he was so very good at, the kind that made her forget she didn’t want or need a man, because honestly, why couldn’t she be a successful, independent woman, who’d found a successful, independent man? Wasn’t that really the best of both worlds?

  “Does this mean she said yes?” a thin voice quavered from the front porch.

  Amanda and Tyler broke apart, both moving to the porch at the same time.

  “Gram!”

  “Bette.”

  “Well?” She was leaning on a cane, still dressed in her bed robe and pajamas. “Nobody was telling me anything and I couldn’t wait any longer. Does she like the RV?”

  “Yes,” Amanda answered, climbing the steps and putting a hand on Bette’s elbow to make sure she was steady. Tyler moved to the other side, neither wanting to risk her taking another fall.

  Bette glanced from one to the other. “And did she say she’d marry you, Ty?”

  Color darkened his cheekbones. “Gram,” he muttered, with a shake of his head. “Not now.”

  “What do you mean, not now? Did she say no?”

  “Gram, I haven’t asked her yet.”

  “Well, ask her. We don’t want to lose her. She’s a keeper, Tyler.”

  “I know, Gram. I’ve told her.” Still shaking his head he looked at Amanda over the top of his grandmother’s head. “This isn’t the romantic proposal I’d imagined, but it couldn’t be more heartfelt—”

  “Wait. Not like that,” Bette interrupted. “You have to kneel. You can’t propose standing up—”

  “Yes, he can,” Amanda interrupted, putting her hand out to stop him from getting down on one knee. “And, yes, the answer is yes, yes, yes!”

  Chapter Twelve

  They ended up holding the wedding the first Saturday of June at the Emerson Barn, the place they had their first dance and their first kiss. Perhaps they hadn’t fallen in love with each other that night, but it had been a magical evening, and when they were trying to pick a place to hold the ceremony and reception the only place that came to mind was the big handsome barn in Paradise Valley.

  Amanda’s only real concern about the venue was its size. It was huge. Cavernous without all the tables and chairs, and they both came from small families. How would they ever fill it?

  Bette brushed aside Mandy’s concerns because there were lots of ways to make the space look more intimate through trellises and flowers, chandeliers and screens.

  Bette ended up playing a bigger role in the planning of the wedding than expected, but Amanda didn’t mind, not when Bette was so excited. It had been her dream forever, to have her beloved grandson fall in love with her Mandy. With the wedding just two months out, they divided up the tasks so that not all the planning fell onto Mandy’s shoulders. Amanda would be in charge of the ceremony and finding the right gown, bridesmaid dresses, flowers, and choosing the invitation. Tyler was responsible for the reception, organizing dinner, music for dancing, and making the space less overwhelming. Bette said she’d oversee the mailing of the invitations as she knew of an excellent local calligrapher who’d address the invitations, and she’d have the responses come back t
o her and keep track of the replies so Mandy would have one less thing to do since it wasn’t good for brides to be stressed out.

  Amanda asked Charity to be her maid of honor, and Charity embraced her responsibilities with zeal, as organizing people and things was her particular specialty, she told Mandy she wanted to make her wedding dress but it would be a surprise. She wasn’t going to tell her what it looked like, only that it would be beautiful and perfect and it’d fit her like a glove. Amanda was delighted. Because what could be better than having her talented sister, who was also her best friend, design a custom gown for her?

  Late April, Jenny flew in from Colorado and the three sisters, their mom, and Sadie and Tricia went shopping together for the mother of the bride dress and the four bridesmaid dresses at Married in Marietta. Lisa Renee, the store owner, helped them personally, and it was clear that Charity had already tipped Lisa off on the types of bridesmaid dresses she thought would be perfect for the wedding, and had a variety of pink gowns that were decidedly romantic. Some were a flirty cocktail length, while others were long, but they all were fitted through the waist with full pretty skirts.

  There were so many lovely options, and the girls tried on a number of styles, and any of them would work, she just wanted her friends and sisters comfortable, but the fact that Mandy didn’t love any of them didn’t sit well with Charity and so she whispered something to Lisa, and Lisa disappeared into the back and then returned with a stunning, strapless ballerina-style gown, featuring an icy-blue silk satin bodice with a full white tulle skirt over a blue silk satin underskirt, and gorgeous hand-stitched pink flowers across the ice-blue bodice’s neckline.

  Amanda’s eyes widened. It was the most perfect thing she’d ever seen. “This is so beautiful. It’s just stunning.” She looked at Charity. “Would you mind trying it on?”

  Charity returned a few minutes later in the dress and it was the dress—exactly what Mandy wanted for her bridesmaids—and yet the dress couldn’t be inexpensive, not when it looked like couture. “How much is this one?” she asked.

  “Not as much as you’d think. They’re from a winter formal collection, and then your sister and Sadie made a few modifications, adding the flowers, and the layers of tulle.”

  Amanda looked to Charity and Sadie and they were both grinning. “We knew you’d love this one,” Sadie confessed. “But we didn’t want you to see it until you’d looked at a lot of other dresses first because we really did want you to feel like you had options.”

  “So you’d still need to modify three more dresses?” Amanda asked, worried about the work involved.

  “It’s not a big deal, and I’m going to do the bridesmaid dresses,” Sadie answered, “because Charity is doing your bridal gown.”

  Amanda couldn’t stop smiling. “I love it. Let’s do it.”

  Amanda woke early on the morning of their wedding day, and she went for a run to help burn off some of her nervous energy. For the past nine years, she’d helped dozens and dozens of brides get ready for their big day, and she’d never understood why they were so anxious, but this morning she felt emotional and almost jittery.

  Back home, she took a long bath before heading downstairs just in time to greet Bette, and her mother, and her bridesmaids, who’d all arrived for their hair appointments.

  Tricia opened a bottle of champagne, and the girls all sipped champagne while her mother’s hair was drawn into a pretty, relaxed chignon with wisps of hair drawn loose to frame the face. And then it was Mandy’s turn, but because she still didn’t know what her dress looked like, Charity directed the stylist to give Amanda a “Grace Kelly updo”—clean, classic, and elegant.

  And then it was time to dress, and because the salon was closed today to outside business since all of the stylists had been invited to the late afternoon wedding, the girls were able to take over the upstairs and downstairs of the house. Upstairs, Charity finally revealed Amanda’s bridal gown. It was without a doubt an ode to the 1950s with its long fitted sheer lace sleeves, and lace bodice over a strapless heart-shaped corset. The full tulle ball gown skirt featured a wildly romantic lace apron, with layer upon layer of lace, as if a waterfall. The waist was narrow, the lace neckline almost severe across her shoulders, and yet the generous lace apron, was whimsical and fun.

  “Just like you,” Charity whispered in Amanda’s ear, giving her a fierce hug.

  Amanda’s stiff tulle veil stopped just short of her elbows, and was topped with a crown of white flowers that Sadie had created.

  Amanda had planned to wear simple diamond stud earrings but Jenny pulled out a velvet jewelry box. “For your something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. We’ve covered it all. Old, new, borrowed, blue.”

  Opening the box Amanda discovered a pair of pearl earrings surrounded by a cluster of diamonds and a single sapphire.

  “We matched the pearl Tyler’s dad gave Mom,” Jenny said, “and then we all chipped in and had them reset with a few sparkly stones.”

  “The sapphire in each was a gift from Bette,” Charity added.

  “We thought it was a way to incorporate the past, and the future,” Amanda’s mom said quietly. “What do you think?”

  “I love them,” Amanda answered huskily, hugging each of her friends and family. “It’s wonderful. You’re all so wonderful, and I’m so very grateful for each of you. Thank you for being here today and thank you for making me feel so special.”

  There were tearful hugs all the way around and then it was time to pack up and head to the Emerson Barn for the late afternoon ceremony and as Amanda climbed into the limousine waiting out front, she said a little prayer of gratitude for all the blessings in her life. What a truly lovely, magical day.

  As the limousine approached Emerson Barn, Amanda thought she knew all the surprises, but as she entered the barn, she discovered that the cavernous space had been transformed by dozens and dozens of trees wrapped in tiny pink fairy lights. The entire barn glowed pink, and there at the front, before the big arched window, stood Tyler and his groomsmen.

  Once she spotted Tyler, she couldn’t look away. He was so handsome and dashing in his tuxedo. She felt almost dizzy with joy.

  She heard the strains of music, and it was time for the bridesmaids to go, and then soon it would be her turn. She took her dad’s arm, and gave him a kiss, and then an encouraging squeeze.

  He patted her hand. “Enjoy today, Mandy.”

  She nodded, and blinked back tears, happy tears. “Oh, I will. I absolutely will.”

  Epilogue

  Tyler and Amanda’s first daughter was born in the middle of a brutal Montana snowstorm. Thankfully, the hospital was a relatively short drive from their home on Bramble, and Tyler had become adept at driving in harsh Montana weather so the blinding snow was an inconvenience more than anything.

  Labor progressed quickly, so quickly that Elizabeth Marie Justice was born shortly after midnight, after just four hours of labor. Baby Elizabeth was named after her beloved great-grandmother, Elizabeth ‘Bette’ Marie Justice, and there was no better great-grandmother in the world than Gram.

  Amanda’s business flourished, and Tyler came to love Marietta as much as his wife. And Amanda never stopped counting her blessings, because her brilliant, perceptive, loving husband had taught her that dreams really do come true.

  The End

  Love on Chance Avenue Series

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  Winner of the RITA® Award for Best Romance Novella

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  Christmas at Copper Mountain

  Book 1 in The Taming of the Sheenan Series

  Jane Porter

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  Harley Diekerhoff looked up from peeling potatoes to glance out the kitchen window.
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  It was still snowing… even harder than it had been this morning.

  So much white, it dazzled.

  Hands still, breath catching, she watched the thick, white flakes blow past the ranch house at a dizzying pace, enthralled by the flurry of the lacy snowflakes.

  So beautiful. Magical. A mysterious silent ballet in all white, the snow swirling, twirling just like it did in her favorite scene from the Nutcracker—the one with the Snow Queen and her breathtaking corps in their white tutus with their precision and speed—and then that dazzling snow at the end, the delicate flakes powdering the stage.

  Harley’s chest ached. She gripped the peeler more tightly, and focused on her breathing.

  She didn’t want to remember.

  She wasn’t going to remember.

  Wasn’t going to go there, not now, not today. Not when she had six hungry men to feed in a little over two hours. She picked up a potato, started peeling.

  She’d come to Montana to work. She’d taken the temporary job at Copper Mountain Ranch to get some distance from her family this Christmas, and working on the Paradise Valley cattle ranch would give her new memories.

  Like the snow piling up outside the window.

  She’d never lived in a place that snowed like this. Where she came from in Central California, they didn’t have snow, they had fog. Thick soupy Tule fog that blanketed the entire valley, socking in airports, making driving nearly impossible. And on the nights when the fog lifted and temperatures dropped beneath the cold clear sky, the citrus growers rushed to light smudge pots to protect their valuable, vulnerable orange crops.

  Her family didn’t grow oranges. Her family were Dutch dairy people. Harley had been raised on a big dairy farm in Visalia, and she’d marry a dairyman in college, and they’d had their own dairy, too.

  But that’s the part she needed to forget.

  That’s why she’d come to Montana, with its jagged mountains and rugged river valleys and long cold winters.