by R. E. Hunter
“Maybe.” I hate when she makes good points. I also hate that I have her on video because she can read my expressions like a book.
“So you’re stuck. You’re delayed. What are you going to do? Punish him for it? Or start your marriage out the right way by working through it together?”
“Why do you have to be so goddamn logical?” I stick my tongue out at her.
“One of us has to be,” she teases. “You saw me through the hardest times of my life and you gave me a swift kick in the ass when I almost let Luke go. So I’m just repaying the favor. Go get your man. When the wedding and all the celebrating is over, you have each other. Cherish that. It’s precious. And really, you can start your marriage any time.” She shrugs. “If you want to get married in some podunk town in Nebraska, I’ll hop on the next flight.”
“Ha.” Imagine that.
“Oh, hold on a sec.”
She sets her phone down, and from that angle, I can see Luke approaching her. Southern Sexy is looking peachy with just a towel wrapped around his waist, and I can’t help but smile as I watch them interact.
“Morning, beautiful.” He sweeps her hair away from her face and kisses her lips.
“Hey, baby.”
I avert my eyes, giving them their private moment, but my heart swells seeing how happy my best friend is. I want that.
Guilt tears through me as I realize that I have it already. I’ve just been taking it for granted. Every bridal meltdown, every tiff or tantrum, Brett has been right beside me to back me up, to act as my partner. But when it came time to have his back on something, I did nothing but complain and blame him at every turn.
The display shifts and Embry comes back into view. “Sorry about that.”
“Tell Peaches he should’ve dropped the towel.”
Embry rolls her eyes, and I toss her a wicked grin.
“I heard that, Morgan,” I hear him rasp in the background. “Not a chance, sweetheart.”
“Well, is there a chance you might fly out to East Bumblefuck, Nebraska to help me get hitched?”
Embry jumps up, the screen wobbling with her. “Really?”
I nod, blinking back tears. “I’m gonna go get my man.”
“Baby!” Embry yells to Luke. “Change of plans! We’re going to Nebraska!”
9
I wander through the train, trying to collect my thoughts and figure out exactly what I want to say to Brett. My head’s a jumbled mess and I really don’t want to screw this up any further.
Stepping into the observation car, I hope for peace and quiet so I can sort through my feelings. I get one better. Father David.
He sits in the empty car, staring out onto the frozen plain. Not bothering to turn toward me, he somehow still knows I’m there.
“Come, sit.” He pats the chair next to him.
I slump into the seat, and we gaze out the window in companionable silence. I wait quite a while for him to speak, but he never does.
“Isn’t this where you share some profound advice that makes me see the error of my ways?”
His mouth twitches. “I’m quite certain you know the error of your ways, as you say. Why don’t you get whatever it is that’s bothering you off your chest?”
I let out a breath and stare down at my feet. “I messed up, Father. I’m not sure how to say sorry for this one.”
“You just say it.” I feel his gray eyes on me, assessing. “You’re a smart girl, Morgan, but it doesn’t have to be more complicated than that. You say, ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s it.”
“That’s it?” I shake my head in disbelief. “That’s all you got for me?”
“It’s a start, my dear, and one of the most important things you can learn. God willing, you’ll have a very long life together. And in that time, you’re both going to make mistakes. So you learn how to apologize, and you learn to fight for what matters.” He trains his eyes on me then, and I see the pain of the loss of his wife. “And never forget that what matters most is the two of you.”
I nod and offer a weak smile, tears welling in my eyes.
Father David pats me on the knee and continues. “My Nancy didn’t quite like to fly. I had to get used to train travel if we wanted to go anywhere. And now that she’s gone,” he hesitates, clearing his throat. “Well, now that she’s gone, I make this trip once a year in her honor, to go visit our kids and grandkids.”
He pulls out his wallet and shares with me pictures of their two children, and three grandchildren, and then of his Nancy. Their wedding photo. I was right—Father David had it going on when he was younger. He looked just like James Dean. And his wife, like a young Natalie Wood. They were beautiful, and I tell him so.
“The start to a beautiful life…” he trails off. “You’re not always going to agree. And you aren’t always going to want to go out of your way for him. But do it. Learn how to bend, Morgan, and not break. Because that something that you bend on,” he glances down at Nancy’s photo, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her cheek, “May just turn into the one thing that lets you feel close to them when they’re gone.”
With tears streaming down my face, I grab Father David’s hand. “Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for sharing her with me.”
He nods, eyes misty. Brushing a fatherly kiss across the back of my hand, he leans in and whispers, “I have my vestments back in my room if you’re in need of something a little more official.”
I beam at him. “I think I just might.”
Then he winks that wink and leaves me alone with my thoughts.
After the five minutes it takes to gather my nerve, I jump from my chair and nearly sprint through the train, hoping to find Brett as quickly as possible. I still don’t know exactly what I’m going to say, but I know I’m going to follow Father David’s advice and just start with “I’m sorry.”
I find our car and burst into the cabin ready to beg for forgiveness. Instead, I find countless tea light candles setting the room aglow, and Brett kneeling in the center, a single red rose in his hand.
“I—” I choke back a sob and take a deep breath, trying to rein in my emotions. “What did you do?”
He grins up at me.
I kneel in front of him and swat at his chest. “You stupid, swoony, son of a bitch. What are you doing?”
“I love you, Morgan. Through the ups and the downs, the good and the bad. I want to be there for every bit of it. I don’t care if we’re late for our wedding, not as long as we’re together. But I will do my damnedest to get you there on time because all I need in this life is to be with you, to see you smile—”
I silence him, pressing a finger to his lips. “I love you, too. And I’m sorry. I’ll travel anywhere with you, by any means. There is no wedding to rush to if I don’t have you.”
He reaches out, cupping my jaw and brushing my tears away. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
I shake my head and look at the ground, but he forces my eyes to his.
“You are. You’re beautiful, Morgan. And you’re mine.”
He crushes his lips to mine, our tongues searching and exploring. And he spends the next hour reminding me of every single way I belong to him, and him to me.
In the dim winter morning light, we lay tangled together on the sofa, Brett’s fingers running lazily through my hair.
“How did you do all of this?” I ask, wondering where in the hell he got all of the candles, the rose, and the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket in our sink.
He laughs, the deep sound vibrating through me. “I bribed Vincent.”
“Vincent? You didn’t!”
“Mmhmm. I did. It took a little convincing, but Vinny’s got the hook up.”
I nuzzle into his chest. “Well, we’ll have to write Vinny a thank-you.”
“Maybe after the sorry-I-assaulted-you letter that you still owe him.”
“Oh yeah, that.” The ninja beat down. That’ll go down in the bridezilla record books for sure.
Brett�
�s hands caress my back, tracing slow circles against my skin. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way…” His hands pause as he seems to weigh his words. “I’m glad this happened. I’m not saying I ever like fighting with you. But it got us here, which is all I really wanted out of this trip. To let everything else just melt away… just me and you.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” I gnaw at my lip nervously. “But you may not feel that way when you find out what I did.”
He sits up, taking me with him, a slow smirk spreading across his handsome face. “What kind of trouble have you gotten us into now?”
My phone sounds an alert and I reach to check it. I have a message from Embry from about twenty minutes ago letting me know they’d be here within the next thirty minutes.
“Well—”
I’m interrupted by a knock at our cabin door.
“I think you’re about to find out.”
10
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I whisper.
His mouth curves into a slow, sexy smile. “I couldn’t be more okay with this.”
“Okay, lovebirds,” Luke grabs Brett by the shoulders and herds him out of the room. “We only have so much time to turn this ugly mug into something presentable.”
Brett laughs and claps Luke on the back. Then he leans in and drops a chaste kiss on my lips. “Last kiss before mister and missus. See you at the altar, gorgeous.”
“See you there.” I point a stern finger at Luke. “No shenanigans, Peaches.”
“Me? Never.” Luke grabs Embry’s ass on the way out, pulling her close. “See you in an hour, beautiful.”
“Okay, enough, the whole lot of you,” Father David pipes up, herding Luke and Brett down the hall. “Move it along.”
I wrap my arm around my best friend’s neck, pulling her in to my side. “Thank you for being here, B.”
She leans her head against mine. “Anything for you. Even in the middle of Nebraska.”
We pop the bottle of champagne, and Embry and Sister Mary Margaret get to work on my hair and makeup.
The time comes, and I finally get to let Vera out of her bag. We all release a collective sigh of appreciation as we take it all in. A fitted, lace bodice flows into cascading layers of silky tulle. It’s everything I’d ever dreamed of wearing on my wedding day. But it doesn’t compare to being able to marry the man I’d always dreamed of.
Embry gently slides the dress from its hanger, sets the large skirt in the middle of the floor, and unbuttons the bodice.
She eyes me carefully. “Are you ready for this, M? Like, really ready?”
I take in my surroundings. I’m flanked by my best friend and two nuns in a miniature train compartment, my parents are currently escorting my Manolos safely to California, and I’m about to step into my wedding gown, slip on my Uggs and meet my future husband in a train car to be married by a leather jacket-wearing—and I just found out, motorcycle-riding—priest. None of this is what I’d imagined, and it’s definitely not what I’d planned for. But it’s perfect nonetheless. Because I’m about to marry the one person in the world who is my perfect match.
I nod to Embry. “I’ve never been more ready.”
She helps me into my gown and then she pulls on her bridesmaid dress. We stare into the mirror together, eyes shining.
“My beautiful best friend,” she whispers. “I’m so proud of you.”
Someone knocks on the door and Embry rushes over, sliding it open only slightly. I hear nothing more than whispers until the door slides open, revealing Luke in his tuxedo.
“May I have a minute?” he asks.
“With me?”
He nods. Embry kisses me on the cheek and shuffles the nuns out of the room. “Let’s go, ladies.”
Luke approaches, sea blue eyes filled with apprehension. “I don’t want to step on toes here, sweetheart, but you’ve been like family the way you’ve been there for me and Bree. I can’t have you doing this alone, so I was wondering if you’d let me walk you.” He shoves his hands in his suit pockets, looking uncomfortable. “Not give you away, and not walk you down the aisle, because, well, I’ve seen the observation car and there’s not much aisle to speak of, but I’ll just walk with you if you’ll let me. Is that weird? Embry said it might be weird.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from my throat. “No, Peaches. It’s no weirder than Brett and I getting married on a train in the middle of Nebraska. I’d love if it you’d walk with me.”
That sweet, Southern smile that I know makes my best friend’s knees go weak slides into place on his face. “Well, all right then. I’m ready when you are.”
I take one more look in the mirror, then take a deep breath and hook my arm in Luke’s. “I’m ready.”
“Oh.” He pulls away, digging in his pocket. “I almost forgot. Father David asked me to give you this.”
A beautiful rosary falls into my hand, crystal blue beads strung throughout the strand.
“He said to tell you they belonged to Nancy and you’d know what to do with them.”
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue,” I whisper to myself while I fight the tears threatening to fall.
I gently wrap the rosary around my hand, and tell Luke I’m ready.
* * *
Luke guides me into the observation car, and I look around. Vincent must have made a killing taking bribes as I notice candles set aglow and rose petals strewn about the floor. But as soon as I see Brett, nothing else matters. I make my way toward him and everything else fades away. But not him—he’s in hi-def, his wide eyes shining as he takes me in.
“You’re stunning, wife,” he whispers as I come to stand beside him.
“Not looking too bad yourself, Mr. Parker.”
We clasp hands, and Father David begins the most beautiful wedding ceremony I think I’ve ever heard.
“Today is about love. There are many kinds—the kind that shatters the heart, that soothes the soul, the kind that you can’t breathe without—but today we’re here to celebrate the kind of love that brings two imperfect people together and makes them whole. The kind of love that you never, ever stop fighting for.”
I fight back tears the entire time, but never look away from Brett. There’s no professional photographer, no videographer, but this is a moment in time that neither of us will ever need help remembering.
The vows come next, and although we both have vows—long vows that we’ve written for the wedding—we decide to save those to share with our family and friends, and opt for one simple phrase instead. Something that encompasses anything and everything we could possibly want to say. Something that covers every eventuality and every promise.
“I will love you.”
We say it together as we exchange our rings, Brett slowly sliding the band onto my left ring finger, the finger that was at one time rumored to have a vein directly to the heart.
If it’s not true, it’s the best rumor I’ve ever heard.
Father David pronounces us husband and wife, and Brett dips me, our lips colliding. It’s a kiss full of promise and love, and in this moment, I know we couldn’t have chosen a better way to start our marriage.
* * *
Brett carries me over several train thresholds and then deposits me outside, right into the snow. Turns out Uggs work pretty well as wedding shoes.
After a hundred or so pictures and a mini snowball fight, we head into the lounge car for cake and champagne. Luke and Embry announce that they’ve found all four of us seats on the next flight out to California, and before we know it, it’s time to pack up and go.
“You guys ready to do this all over again?” Bree jokes.
We all laugh, but Brett wraps his arms around me from behind and drops a kiss on my neck before grinning like a fool and saying, “Anywhere, anytime.”
“Anywhere, anytime,” I say, smiling back.
<
br /> Just as we finish saying our goodbyes, exchanging email addresses with Father David and Sister Mary and giving hugs all around, the train’s PA screeches loudly and the conductor clears his throat.
“We’ve just received word that the obstruction on the tracks has nearly been removed. We will be back on route within the hour.”
“You guys sure you don’t want to stay on to your destination?” Vinny asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I think we’re finished with trains,” Brett says, taking my hand and waving to everyone as we step off the California Zephyr.
“Maybe for now,” I call and wave back at them.
Brett looks down at me in shock.
“What?” I shrug. “Never say never.”
We walk hand in hand away from the train, and Brett pulls me close to his side. “You know,” he says in a low whisper, his lips brushing my ear. “There’s always the Mile High Club.”
THE END
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Bonus Chapter
“You’re the one who drank all of the champagne, Nancy!”
“You’re not serious,” he says, smirking. “And who are you calling Nancy?”
“You!” I pull him to a stop, stabbing my finger in his face. My reaction time lags, and before I can pull my finger away Brett sucks it into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip before releasing it with a pop. My jaw is slack as I stare up at my husband. My sexy-as-fuck, James-Bond-looking-in-a-hot-ass-tuxedo, just-tongued-my-finger-and-made-me-weak-in-the-knees husband.
What was I saying? Oh, right.
“If you ordered any more strawberries for your champagne, they would’ve had to fly them in from another state. Clearly you have your fancy pants on tonight.”
“I do.” He winks. “And apparently I like champagne.”
“Pfffft, apparently.”
He sweeps me up, cradling me in his arms, and grazes his teeth over my earlobe. “I can think of some other uses for champagne tonight, Mrs. Parker.” His voice is thick and throaty, sending a jolt straight to my core.
