“Ready, Jo-Jo?” Mia and Harper stood on either side of Muddy and patted Joely’s legs.
She pushed Alec to the back of her heart and nodded. The lights went off and the arena was bathed in grays and blacks. Her heart started pounding again.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the announcer said. “We have a treat for you. You all know her, one of Jackson Hole’s most beloved queens. We almost lost her last year to a terrible accident, but our girl has fought back and is here tonight to celebrate our nation’s birthday and a very, very special night at the rodeo. Put your hands together for Jackson, Wyoming’s own sweetheart, Miss Joely Crockett!”
“Ride ’im, cowgirl!” Harper cried.
She pressed her heels into Muddy’s sides and urged him forward with her hips and seat. He shot into the arena just as they’d practiced, and the spotlight hit her like a beam from the heavens. She flew, her legs steady from hours of practice, her seat secure because now she knew her horse. The crowd buoyed her, and she knew who she raced for—the man who’d gotten her to this moment. She wouldn’t give up on him. Stubborn, bossy, arrogant Alec Morrissey was the man she loved.
ALEC LET HIS breath out once Joely flew out of the gate and his chest swelled with pride. Damn, she’d been beautiful. The ride had been perfection. He wiped tears of relief from his eyes and listened to the crowd cheer.
“Okay. Get your ass up there, Morrissey.”
He shook his head clear and nodded at Vince. He had a bet to win. And a score to settle—with himself. Then, maybe, he could be the man Joely Crockett deserved.
He took the deepest breath he ever remembered taking and looked up to the heavens. “I’d like a sign if you don’t mind,” he said. “An easy one. If you’ll give me five seconds on this sucker, I’ll ask that girl to marry me.” He climbed, and looked down at his horse’s saddle. “Okay, GP. Let’s dance.”
JOELY HANDED MUDDY off to Bjorn and turned, exhilarated, back to the gate. It was time for Ghost Pepper’s big return. From what she understood, they’d given him three test rides in the past week, and he’d dumped every cowboy just as effortlessly as he ever had. Chance Smith, who’d drawn him tonight, was in for a great, probably short ride.
Mia and Harper stepped up beside her. Her mother crowded in as well. “You had an awesome ride, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”
She was proud, too, and desperate to tell Alec how it had gone, but first she had to watch his horse. He’d have to hear about this whether he wanted to or not. She smiled. The irritating man.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The moment we’ve been promising you all summer long. The return of the most popular saddle bronc ever to buck his way through Jackson Hole.”
The crowd roared.
“But we have a bonus surprise for you, folks. We’ve got you a cowboy who had to buy an extra room in his house for all his championship belts. A man who fought for our country and then came back stronger than ever. A man who went to help a fellow soldier and came back wounded himself.”
Joely’s mind followed slowly along with the announcer’s introduction, and as the words took hold in her mind, her heart felt as if it stalled in her chest. Her hands shook as she gripped the bars of the gate.
“What the heck?” Harper asked.
“This man has been away from rodeo for four years, but he has a bone to pick with this here horse. He might have lost a leg, but he hasn’t lost his will. Folks, whatever happens tonight, you’re witnessing the best on the best. Give him eight seconds of your love. Ladies and gentlemen, Alec Morrissey and the only horse ever to beat him . . . Ghost Pepper!”
It started with a wild blur. The gate swung open, and Ghost Pepper seemed to shoot out in two directions. Atop him, Alec’s right arm went straight up and a bright white Stetson went flying. Joely set aside her disbelief and counted. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. His longest ride on this horse was five. Alec spurred perfectly, both legs reaching straight up Ghost Pepper’s neck and raking down his shoulder. Four seconds. Five seconds. Tears rolled down Joely’s face. The man was crazy. The horse nearly flipped sideways and then instantly dropped his head between his legs. Alec came fifteen inches off the saddle. Six seconds. Seven.
The horn sounded and the crowd went insane.
Morr-is-SEE! Morr-is-SEE! The old, traditional chant filled the stands.
Alec threw himself off the horse and landed flat on his back. Joely screeched his name when he stayed down. She wasn’t supposed to enter the arena, but she didn’t care. She made sure Ghost Pepper had been caught, and she threw the gate open. Without thinking, she ran for the first time since her accident, nearly tripping herself with the one crutch she carried with her. She reached him, expecting to find him unconscious and bleeding.
“Alec. Oh, please, Alec . . . ”
He was grinning and weeping, his fist clenched. “Hey, you,” he said. “Surprise.”
She helped him up, and he dusted himself off then raised his arm for the crowd. The decibel level rose higher yet.
“Are you insane? Are you trying to kill yourself?” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him so hard he started to laugh.
“No.” He kissed her back. “I knocked the leg out of alignment a little, though. Let me lean on you.”
“Anytime,” she replied.
They walked slowly over to his hat, picked it up, dusted it off, and waved it to the crowd.
Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “This is Buzz’s hat.”
“Yeah. Gave it one last ride. Now it’s time to let it go. C’mon.”
He pointed to where a man and woman entered the arena. Joely knew immediately who they were.
Alec met them as the crowd cheered and handed the hat to his aunt. She sobbed as she hugged him. Then his uncle embraced him. They hugged Joely. They hugged Alec again, and he gave a final wave. The significance of the hat was lost on the crowd, but its meaning was crystal clear to Joely as Alec limped slightly out of the arena, his arm around Joely’s shoulders for support.
“Eight seconds,” she said. “That’s like a fairy tale.”
“Yup.”
“Do you have any more shockers? I’m tired of these surprises.”
“Actually.” He stopped right outside the gate and faced her with her family and his watching. “I do. Joely Crockett, will you marry me?”
Epilogue
Valentine’s Night
“LOOK AT YOU, Miss Joely. I tol’ you, you would be the most beautiful bride of all.”
Mary, borrowed for the day from the VA’s nursing staff, stood behind her in the master bathroom off of her mother’s room, and wound two side curls around her fingers while they both looked in the mirror. She let them go and they sprang loosely back around Joely’s face, joining the other tendrils tumbling from her simple chignon.
“Perfect.” Mary’s soft, rolled R whispered into her ear as her former nurse and now her friend made final pats to her hair and makeup, and then kissed her on the cheek. “You are ready to go and marry your handsome cowboy.”
Her pulse fluttered at the words. Married.
Joely Morrissey. It had taken her a little time to get used to the ending alliteration, but now it rolled off her tongue as prettily as Mary’s Rs.
“Are you ready?” Mary asked. “Shall we go and show them?”
Joely took one last look at her reflection. If she squinted, she could see another image right beside her—a five-year-old girl with a sunny smile and a halo of wheaty-yellow curls. If she squinted a little harder, the child moved her lips. “Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who’s the fairest Crockett of all?”
She laughed.
“What?” Mary asked.
“Memories. Come on. My sisters are mad enough that only Grandma and Mom have seen the dress. Sisters are supposed to help with that, I’ve been told. But then again, nothing about this ceremony has been done the normal way.”
It was true. This was a Tuesda
y, and the ceremony would start in half an hour at seven thirty in the evening. The weeknight wedding had to be because it was Valentine’s Day, and one of the sisters had to do something clichéd like get married on the holiday of love. Joely loved that Alec had wanted this sentimental date even more than she did.
The other concession to the holiday were the flowers—red roses and pink stargazer lilies. But her dress was not white—it was her five bridesmaids who wore creamy ivory crepe. She wore no veil and had chosen the dress with only her grandmother’s help. It was not a bright sunny afternoon, but still the wedding was outdoors. She smiled and swept the hem of her gown out the door of the bathroom and into the bedroom where the magpie chatter of her sisters ceased as if a switch had turned them all off at the same moment.
“Oh, Joely.” Grace was the first to utter a sound. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
The dress was strapless and trainless, but it needed no train. Sparkling crystals of bright silver covered the dress bodice to her waist where silver began to blend with a dark blue until, at the dress bottom, there were only spangles of silver shot through the deep, rich midnight hue. The skirt swirled wide and flowing like a sea of star-capped waves.
“I told you it was different,” Joely said.
They smothered any further words, engulfing her with hugs and squeals that lasted until her mother and grandmother had to come and break them up because it was time to go.
“Have you checked the sky?” Joely asked.
The weather was the only thing she’d bridezilla-ed about all week, as if ranting would control anything about Mother Nature. But February in Wyoming was iffy at best when it came to weather. The mountains created their own weather patterns, and even her beloved Paradise Ranch was not immune to those frivolous changes.
She just so badly wanted there to be stars.
“It’s cloudy, Jo-Jo,” her mother said. “But it’s lovely and so warm for this early. It’s beautiful.”
Her heart fell. It was stupid. It didn’t matter.
They reached the living room, and her grandmother handed her a cane. She’d graduated to the simple walking aid months before, and she smiled in secret satisfaction. Her guests, even her family had no idea how different this was going to be from the wedding where a bridesmaid had been pushed down the aisle in a wheelchair.
And then the waiting was over. The garden was ready. Her man was there.
But as she stepped onto the porch, Cole appeared, a piece of paper in his hand.
“Hold up there, you, bride,” he said. Then he took a second out to whistle. “Joely, darlin’, you take my breath away.”
She flushed but peered nervously at his hand. “Thank you. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all. Special late delivery.” He handed her an envelope.
“What on earth?”
He shrugged. “Your bronc rider said I had to give it to you and see that you opened it.”
The envelope was addressed to her, the postmark seven days old. When she saw the return address her hand flew to her mouth. Colorado State University, College of Veterinary Medicine and Biomedical Sciences.
She stared wildly at Mia, who took the letter in concern but then grinned. “Your application!”
“You open it.” Joely’s voice, hands, and pulse all vibrated like they did whenever she thought of Alec. She couldn’t make herself wonder, yet, how he’d gotten this.
Mia tore the flap neatly and withdrew the folded letter. Joely nodded.
Mia opened it, read for two seconds, and lifted her eyes. With unhidden excitement she extended the letter to Joely. “From one doctor to another—prepare to work your little buns off, sweetie.”
Joely took the paper in disbelief and read it for herself. “I got in,” she said in wonder.
Her mother was right. The status of the sky no longer mattered in the least.
Kelly ran the letter into the house. Raquel adjusted the flowers in Joely’s hair. The next thing she knew she was at the head of the short, glitter-strewn aisle beside her mother’s garden—pretty and neat even in prespring. Fairy lights strung across the space with abandon created plenty of starlight. And he was there.
Alec.
With a grin that even from across the lawn spelled impish trouble, he held up a small sign edged in blue and silver for everyone to see.
Come and marry me, Doc.
Wait. How could he know? She’d just opened the letter . . .
In the wonder and confusion of the moment, she nearly forgot the surprise she had for him. As the music started, however, she squatted in place and laid the cane on the ground. Rising again, she adjusted and took her first step, then her second, and her third. She wasn’t perfect yet but she had enough steps to reach him. And when she did, there were tears in his eyes.
“Hello, my love,” he whispered.
“How did you know?”
“I called them. Told them this was how I wanted to give you the news if it was good. The admissions lady now thinks I’m romantic and sexy.”
“Are you ever going to stop butting into my life without telling me?”
“Sure, when you quit telling me what to do with mine—which I hope, judging by our track record, is never.”
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you back.”
And then, because nothing about this wedding was like it was supposed to be, he kissed the bride before the ceremony had even begun.
THE END
Did you miss Mia and Gabe’s story? Keep reading for an excerpt from the second breathtaking book in Lizbeth Selvig’s
Seven Brides for Seven Cowboys series,
THE BRIDE WORE RED BOOTS
Dr. Amelia Crockett’s life was going exactly the way she had always planned—until one day it wasn’t.
When Mia’s career plans are shattered, the always-in-control surgeon has no choice but to head home to Paradise Ranch and her five younger sisters, cowboy boots in tow, to figure out how to get her life back on track. The appearance of a frustrating, but oh-so-sexy, former soldier, however, turns into exactly the kind of distraction she can’t afford.
Even though Mia can’t stand the sight of him, Gabriel Harrison has never returned the sentiment. He can’t seem to resist teasing the gorgeous doctor who pushes all of his buttons. And the searing hot kisses they share are turning him inside out.
As she begins to work with Gabe, helping former vets recover from severe PTSD with the aid of some wild mustangs, Mia finds herself becoming more like the person she used to be. She never expected to alter her life plans, and definitely never expected to fall for anyone, least of all the handsome Gabe. But fate and some lucky red boots have a way of changing things. As their lives become more complicated, will Mia and Gabe’s love be enough to smooth the way to a happily ever after?
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DR. AMELIA CROCKETT adored the kids. She just hated clowns. Standing resignedly beside Bitsy Blueberry, Amelia scanned the group of twenty or so young patients gathered for a Halloween party in the pediatric playroom at NYC General Hospital. She didn’t see the one child she was looking for, however.
Some children wore super-hero-themed hospital gowns and colorful robes that served as costumes. Others dressed up more traditionally—including three fairies, two princesses, a Harry Potter, and a Darth Vader. Gauze bandage helmets had been decorated like everything from a baseball to a mummy’s head. More than one bald scalp was adorned with alien-green paint or a yellow smiley face. Mixed in with casts, wheelchairs, and IV poles on castors, there were also miles of smiles. The kids didn’t hate the clown.
Amelia adjusted the stethoscope around her neck, more a prop than a necessary item at this event, and glared—her sisters would call it the hairy eyeball—at Bitsy Blueberry’s wild blue wig. Bitsy thrust one hand forward, aimed one of those obnoxious, old-fashioned, bicycle horns with a bulb that were as requisite to clowning as giant shoes and red noses at Amelia’s face and honked
at her rudely. Three times.
Amelia smiled and whispered at Bitsy through gritted teeth. “I detest impertinent clowns, you know. I can have you fired.”
She wasn’t afraid of clowns. She simply found them unnecessary and a waste of talent, and Bitsy Blueberry was a perfect example. Beneath the white grease paint, red nose, hideous blue wig, and pinafore-and-pantaloons costume that looked like Raggedy Ann on psychedelic drugs was one of the smartest, most dedicated pediatric nurses in the world—Amelia’s best friend, Brooke Squires.
“Look who’s here, boys and girls.” Bitsy grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her unceremoniously to the front of the room, honking in time with Amelia’s steps all the way. “It’s Dr. Mia Crockett!”
She might as well have said Justin Bieber or One Direction for the cheer that went up from the kids. It was the effect Bitsy’s squeaky falsetto voice had on them. Then again, they’d cheer a stinky skunk wrangler if it meant forgetting, for even a short time, the real reasons they were in the hospital. That understanding was all that kept Amelia from cuffing her friend upside the head to knock some sense into it. She waved—a tiny rocking motion of her wrist—at the assemblage of sick children.
“Dr. Mia doesn’t look very party ready, do you think?” Bitsy/Brooke asked. “Isn’t that sad?”
“Not funny,” Amelia said through the side of her mouth, her smile plastered in place.
Bitsy pulled a black balloon from her pinafore pocket and blew it into a long tube. Great. Balloon animals.
“I know a secret about Dr. Mia,” Bitsy said. “Would you like to know what it is?”
Unsurprisingly, a chorus of yesses filled the room.
“She . . . ” Bitsy dragged the word out suggestively, “is related to Davy Crockett. Do you know who Davy Crockett was?”
The relationship was true thanks to a backwoods ninth cousin somewhere in the 1800s, but Mia rolled her eyes again while a cacophony of shouts followed the question. As Bitsy explained about Davy and hunting and the Alamo, she tied off the black balloon and blew up a brown one. She twisted them intricately until she had a braided circle with a tail.
The Bride Wore Starlight Page 31
