Wyatt's Pretend Pledge

by Liz Isaacson

  “Why does she love the beach so much?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Dad sighed. “Something about how it soothes her soul or something.”

  “Did you like it there?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Dad said nonchalantly as they approached the homestead. “Your mother was happy, and I like the sunshine more than the rain.”

  Jeremiah heard what his father was saying: If Momma was happy, so was he. Jeremiah knew, because he felt a lot the same about Whitney. If she wanted to sleep in, Jeremiah wanted her to. If she wanted hot coffee when she finally got out of bed, Jeremiah wanted to be the one to give it to her.

  “Let me call Whitney,” he said, reaching for the display in front of him. He tapped, and the low-playing radio stopped as the line rang. He adjusted the volume so he could hear his wife.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Dad and I are going into town to look at the farm,” he said. “Do you want to come?”

  “Yes,” she said before he’d even finished speaking. “I’ll be right out.”

  “Great, we’re pulling around the house now.” Jeremiah continued down the dirt lane and toward the huge oak tree in the front yard. He drove under the boughs between it and the house and braked. “We can stop at Whitney’s store, too,” he said to his dad. “And get some of that flavored cream I was telling you about.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Whitney came down the steps, and his father got out of the truck. “It’s fine, Mister—”

  “I’m not riding in the front,” Dad said gruffly, opening the back door and climbing into the backseat. “I can see just as good back here.”

  Jeremiah met Whitney’s eye, glad she’d found a moment to slick on some of that red lipstick he liked so well. “Hey, baby.” He leaned over and kissed her. “How ya feeling?”

  “Good,” she said, smiling. “How are the goats?”

  “Good,” he said. “Daisy Mae is doing well, and she’ll be grown up before we know it.”

  “You and those baby goats.” She shook her head as he passed through the gate and headed toward town.

  “I like them,” he said, not really needing to defend himself. Whitney didn’t care if he had goats, pigs, or llamas on the ranch.

  “I booked another family,” she said. “And a bride for September.” She rolled her eyes, and Jeremiah smiled at her.

  “You don’t have to do the super-hot wedding in the fall if you don’t want to,” he said.

  “But I do want to,” she said. “I just wish it wouldn’t be five million degrees.”

  “Any more babies?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Two in July.”

  Jeremiah grinned at her and shook his head. “I still don’t think you’re going to be up and able to do that for our baby.”

  “I’ve already started picking out props,” she said.

  “But how?” he asked. “You don’t even know if it’ll be a boy or girl.”

  “Rope is gender-neutral,” she said, and Jeremiah fell in love with her a little more, if that was even possible.

  Several minutes later, he pulled off on a road that led east, almost directly across the highway from Rhett’s right turn-off. “Rhett lives down there,” he said. “You’ll be like five minutes apart, and only fifteen from the ranch.”

  “And where’s Tripp compared to here?” Dad asked.

  “He’s got a great big place on the east side of town,” Jeremiah said. “It’s probably ten minutes from here.” Jeremiah pulled up to the cheery white brick home with the bright blue door. “Here it is.”

  The yard had been well-kept, and it had big trees like his father liked. But the best part was the—“Look at that front porch,” his dad said, already sliding out of the truck.

  “Dad.” Jeremiah hurried to get out too. “You don’t own this place yet, Dad.”

  But his father didn’t care, and he went right up the front sidewalk and the several steps to the front porch. “I can put a chair right there. Whittling table next to it.” He surveyed the space as if he could envision it already. And he probably could.

  He looked at Jeremiah, and a new light had entered his eyes. “This is great.”

  Jeremiah glanced around, though he knew the house was empty. He’d tagged along with Rhett and Tripp as they’d looked at it without any furniture in it, and it seemed plenty big enough for two people. And a dog, he reminded himself, as his father had already told Momma that he’d be getting a new dog as soon as they were settled.

  “How big is the yard?”

  “It’s not huge,” Jeremiah said. “There’s a small corral for maybe one horse.”

  “I’m gettin’ old to be takin’ care of a big yard.” He tapped the brim of his cowboy hat. “That was one good thing about Cayman. Small yards, with low maintenance.”

  “I’ll come do it, Dad,” Jeremiah said. “And any animals you want, we’ll keep at the ranch.” He smiled at his father and put his hand in Whitney’s as she joined them on the porch.

  “The neighbors are looking out the window,” she said almost under her breath, nodding across the street.

  “And we don’t need to get arrested today,” Jeremiah said. “Let’s go, Dad.” He was beyond excited his parents had decided to move to Three Rivers, and when his mother had called and asked him his opinion, the first thing he’d said was, “I would love that, Momma. Truly.”

  He was fairly certain all of the brothers had said the same thing, and his mother didn’t waste time when she’d made up her mind.

  Back at the homestead, he found Momma with baby Ginger in her arms, both of them sleeping on the couch in the living room. He smiled at them, an overwhelming sense of love filling him.

  “Thank you, God,” he whispered, because he’d never thought he’d have a life like this. He still remembered keenly the day Rhett had come back to the ranch and said he was married, and the inexplicable anger that had taken over his mind and body.

  Now, he felt only joy and peace when he thought of marriage and family, and he couldn’t wait for his baby to be born so he could try to build the best life for his son or daughter that he could.

  He sat next to his mother, who made a small noise. “Love you, Momma,” he said, laying his head against her shoulder.

  “Love you too, baby,” she whispered, and everything in Jeremiah’s life made sense for this one moment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marcy folded the tea towel she’d brought from her house and laced it through the handle on the refrigerator. Her nerves buzzed like the bees Wyatt had shown her on the ranch, as his mother should be arriving any moment.

  She still hadn’t been able to go into her parents’ bedroom closet and get out the dress. For all Marcy knew, it wouldn’t fit, or it would be stained or covered in mold and mildew. She wasn’t sure which she wanted most—for the dress to be perfect or for it to be a complete failure. What she knew was she still hadn’t been able to take down any of the family photos, though she and Wyatt had gone through everything else in the living room.

  She’d kept a few boxes of books she knew her father had loved and spent a great deal of time or money to acquire. They were in her spare bedroom in her own house, and Marcy would probably never look at them again. But she couldn’t get rid of them either.

  They’d cleaned out his movie collection and gotten rid of his impressive collection of National Geographic magazines. She’d sold the couches to a neighbor down the street who had a daughter getting married, and she’d given them the television too.

  The living room was a skeleton of what it had once been, and Marcy didn’t like the sterility in the house. When Wyatt was with her, she didn’t feel as hollow, and neither did the house.

  She’d enjoyed their weekend in Dallas a few weeks ago, and she couldn’t wait to be married to the man who’d become her best friend.

  The doorbell rang, and Marcy startled out of her thoughts. She hurried over to the door and opened it to find both Wyatt and his mother stan
ding there.

  “Good morning, Penny,” she said. “Wyatt, you’re not staying, right?”

  He held up both hands in surrender and said, “I’m off to get breakfast by myself, and then I’ll see you ladies later at church.” He leaned in and kissed Marcy quickly before backing up. “Unless you want me to stay.”

  “Go on, baby,” his mother said as she came in. “It’ll be so boring here.” She closed the door while Wyatt still wore that hopeful expression on his face, and she patted Marcy’s shoulder as she went by. “Don’t mind him. He’ll be fine.”

  Marcy turned and followed his mother into the house. She was already dressed for church, but Marcy hadn’t mentally committed to going to Sabbath services today. But one look at Wyatt’s mother, and Marcy knew she’d be running home to put on a skirt and heels so she could go to church.

  “All right,” she said. “The dress is back here.” She started down the hallway, the sound of Penny’s footsteps behind her sounding like the pounding of a hammer. The door to the bedroom stood open, and Marcy had been inside several times. She’d gone through her father’s nightstand one day, weeping the entire time. Every little thing held such strong memories from the mint tins he’d kept and stored random amounts of money in to the newspaper clipping of his and Momma’s wedding.

  Marcy had kept the clipping and the money, but she’d thrown out the tins. She wasn’t even sure why her father had kept them, other than to store little bits and bobs in, which she’d also thrown away. After all, she didn’t need safety pins or old buttons that didn’t match anything.

  “This is a lovely house,” his mother said.

  “Thank you,” Marcy said. “Wyatt and I have been going through it bit by bit.”

  “Yes, he told me all about it last night.” She paused and looked earnestly at Marcy. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

  Marcy’s heart shivered, but she managed to nod. “The dress should be back here.” She moved over to the door of the closet and opened it. She hadn’t made it this far in her purging yet, because she knew the scent of her father’s cologne, aftershave, and the synthetic oil that belonged uniquely to Payne’s Pest-free.

  She backed up after opening the door, but all of those smells assaulted her, awakening her memories in a single breath. Her emotions spiraled, and she didn’t even startle when Penny put her hand in Marcy’s and squeezed.

  They stood there, the two of them, holding hands as she faced this closet full of memories. After what felt like a long time, Penny said, “I can tell you loved your father very much.” She released Marcy’s hand. “May I?”

  Marcy could only nod, and Penny stepped forward to start leafing through the clothes in the closet. “I’m sure I can find it,” she said, and the sound of hangers scraping along the rod met Marcy’s ears.

  She sat on the bed, feeling a little numb as Penny continued to look through the closet. She hadn’t expected the fresh waves of pain to roll over her, but they did in full force.

  “Here it is,” Penny said, backing up as she pulled out a garment bag. “This has to be it.” She laid the bag on the bed beside Marcy and started to unzip it. “Yep, this is it.”

  A moment later, the bag had been shed, and Penny was holding up Marcy’s wedding dress. She hadn’t even realized the tears had gathered in her eyes before they fell, and Penny sat beside her on the bed, letting the dress drape across her lap.

  “I wish I could’ve met them,” she said. “Your folks.”

  Marcy nodded, because she couldn’t say anything.

  “They must’ve been very special for you to love them so much. I hope when it’s my turn to go, my sons won’t be sad, because I’ve lived a good life.”

  Marcy looked at her, and so much was said without any words. “I just miss them,” she said, swiping at her tears. She’d carefully made up her face too, as if she needed to impress Wyatt’s mother.

  “I still miss my mother too,” she said. “And she died twenty years ago.” She gave Marcy a small smile, the kind filled with empathy and a soul that knows. “And you’ve done an amazing job cleaning out this house as much as you have.”

  She looked down into her lap, and Marcy followed her gaze. “I think this dress could be lovely,” Penny said. “We need to see how it drapes on you, and we might need to do a little updating.”

  Marcy drew in a long breath, using it to strengthen herself enough to stand up. “All right.” With Penny’s help, she stepped into the dress and got it zipped up.

  “Plenty of room,” Penny said, circling her. “Probably too much.” She pinched some of the fabric along Marcy’s waist. “I can put a pleat right here, and we can take off some of the old lace. It’s a little gray, and lace is kind of out right now anyway. Isn’t it?”

  “I have no idea,” Marcy said, her tears returning. “But you think it could work?”

  “Why don’t you step into the bathroom and look for yourself?” Penny swept her hand toward the bathroom, as if Marcy didn’t know where it was.

  Marcy looked at her again, her fears subsiding with the older woman’s kind smile and encouragement. She took another big breath and walked into her father’s bathroom. She hadn’t cleaned up this room either, because these were the things her father had touched last.

  She gasped as she took in the image of herself in her mother’s wedding dress, the bodice tight across her chest, and the straps laying just right over her shoulders. “I need a different bra,” she whispered, but she could find one of those in the next six days.

  She ran her hands down her torso, and Penny was right. The dress needed to be taken in an inch or so, and the lace definitely told everyone the dress was fifty years old. But Marcy loved it, and as Penny stepped into the bathroom with her, she asked, “Can you do it, Penny, or should I call a tailor?”

  “I can do it,” she said. “Don’t tell me Wyatt hasn’t told you about the horrific shirts I used to make for all the boys.”

  “He’s mentioned it,” Marcy said. “Something about matching clothes when y’all traveled?”

  “I had a lot of kids,” Penny said, lifting her chin as if she were being challenged. “If they all wore the same thing, I could find them all in a hot minute.”

  Marcy smiled and nodded. “That was it.”

  “I can fix this right up for you,” she said. “You need something else to wear underneath it.” She touched Marcy’s hip, where the outline of her underwear could be seen.

  “I can take care of that,” she said, facing Wyatt’s mother. “Penny? Would you help me get dressed on my wedding day?”

  Penny’s dark eyes softened, and she reached up and touched her perfectly styled hair. She was dark like her sons, and Marcy could see bits and pieces of Wyatt in her. “I’d love to, my dear.” She embraced Marcy, and Marcy hugged her back, closing her eyes in bliss. She may not have any biological parents left in Three Rivers, but Penny felt like a kindred soul, and Marcy wouldn’t have to deal with wedding day things alone with her here.

  Before she knew it, the week slipped away from her. She dusted all the fields she needed to. She fell a bit behind on paperwork, because she had to shop for new underwear and a pair of shoes to get married in.

  And then she woke up on Friday morning and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m getting married today,” she whispered to the empty house.

  Wyatt’s announcement in Dallas had gone well, and he’d been on the phone with his manager for what felt like a long time yesterday. His friend at Four Paws had confirmed that they could get into the buildings where they’d change and stage before the ceremony by ten a.m. for a wedding that would begin at noon on the dot.

  Her phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her, and she picked it up to find a text from Wyatt. Everything good? he’d asked. Can’t wait to see you today.

  Everything’s good, she answered. I’ll see you at noon. She let the phone fall to her chest, and she stayed in bed for several more minutes, letting her mind roam wherever it wanted. When she finally
sat up to get out of bed, she said, “Wish you were here, Momma. You too, Daddy, though it’s your fault I’m getting married only two months after you died.”

  She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, just as she had for the past several weeks since she’d found out about the stipulation.

  She showered and double-checked that she had everything, towing her bag down the hall to the living room just as Savannah entered. “Hey.” She hugged her cousin, so glad to have some sort of anchor to hold onto.

  “Are you ready for this?” Savannah asked.

  “Yes,” Marcy said, because once they got going there would be no turning back. Not that Marcy would do that at this point. She had to get married in order to keep Payne’s. And Wyatt wouldn’t likely back out, as he had his whole family here, as well as actual news reporters. The wedding itself was being recorded and shown online on a rodeo website, for crying out loud.

  She let Savannah take her bag, and she let her drive her across town to Four Paws. Everything seemed to be happening in a blur, from getting her makeup done, to her hair curled and set just-so on top of her head. Before she knew it, Penny had arrived with the dress and a wide smile.

  “I think you’re going to love it.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Marcy said, hugging her. “Thank you so much.”

  “Let’s get you dressed.” Penny held the straps while Marcy stepped into the dress, and then she zipped it up. The fabric fit like a glove now, and Marcy didn’t dare turn to look in the mirror.

  “I’ve got your shoes,” Alyssa said, placing them on the floor in front of Marcy. She held her hand to steady her as Marcy stepped into the shoes. “Oh.” Her eyes filled with tears and she clapped one hand over her mouth. “You’re so beautiful, Marcy.”

  She embraced her cousin, trying to hold back her own tears. “Thank you for helping me this morning,” she said. “Where’s Savannah?”

  “She went to get something. She’ll be back.” Alyssa stepped back, wiping her eyes. “Now I’m going to need Nessa to fix me up again.”

  “I can,” the makeup artist said from a couple of chairs down.