Epilogue
Sloan was leaving work three weeks later when the dispatcher flagged him down. “This came in the afternoon mail for you,” she said, leaning over to hand him a heavy cream-colored envelope. It was addressed in an unfamiliar hand, with no return address and a postmark too smeared to make out. If he could read it, though, he knew it would say Boonesville, Georgia.
He waited until he was inside his truck before he opened the envelope. Inside was another envelope, one addressed in his own writing, and inside it was a single sheet of paper, folded in half, then in thirds. He recognized the precise folds because he’d made them himself.
Though he hadn’t really expected any response at all, he was disappointed that Marabeth and Andrew Cobbs had lived down to his expectations. What kind of parents cared so damn little about their own child that they would ignore such an important event in her life?
Crystal’s parents. His own mother. Rafe’s mother. Maybe Christina Montgomery. God knew, there was no shortage of bad parents in the world. The only wonder was that they sometimes managed to turn out the best kids. Crystal was a better daughter than the Cobbses had any right to wish for. He was a better son than his mother could ever deserve, and he intended to be the best damn husband ever.
After starting the engine so the truck could warm up, he unfolded the letter.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Cobbs:
It had felt odd starting a letter to his future in-laws with such formality, but they were strangers, and probably destined to remain so. What else could he have said?
My name is Sloan Ravencrest. I’m a deputy with the Blue River County Sheriff’s Department in Montana. I’m twenty-nine, half Cheyenne, and on the Saturday before Christmas, I’m marrying your daughter.
I love her more than words can express.
Apparently, ol’ Marabeth and Andrew had not been impressed, he thought dryly. After skimming the rest of the letter, he returned it to its envelope, then slid that into the larger envelope. As he stuck it inside the glove box, he realized something was missing. Along with his note, he’d sent one of their wedding invitations. The Cobbses hadn’t returned it.
Maybe they’d thrown it away in disgust that their only child was marrying so far beneath them. Maybe they’d torn it to bits or burned it to ash to demonstrate how little they cared.
Or maybe they’d kept it because, in spite of all the disappointments, in spite of their bad parenting and Crystal’s bad fortune to be different, she was still their daughter and somewhere in their narrow, selfish souls, they loved her at least a little for it.
He would like to think that was the case.
He went home, showered and changed clothes. By the time the doorbell rang, he was ready and anxious to go.
His father stood there, dressed in his cowboy best. He looked somber, and damn near teary-eyed. “Everyone’s waiting over at the church. You ready?”
Sloan took a deep breath. “Yeah. I am.”
On the drive to the church, Arlen said, “You know, I always thought when one of my boys got married, I’d have some words of advice to offer. You know, work hard but don’t let your job keep you away from her too long. Don’t go out drinking with your buddies. Help her with the housework when you can. Remember any kids you bring into this world are your responsibility, too. That sort of thing. But you already know all that. So I’m just gonna tell you two things. Thank God every day for sending her into your life, and thank her for staying there. ‘Cause you know, these women don’t need us the way we need them. They’re strong and capable and can do anything, but without them, we’re just poor fools.”
“Amen,” Sloan agreed.
There were far more people at the church than one small wedding rehearsal required, virtually all of them his family and friends. His cousins were there to make sure he didn’t make a run for it, they good-naturedly teased him. His aunts and uncles had shown up early for the dinner that would follow at Neela’s and didn’t want to miss out on one minute of family company. His grandparents had come because…well, because nothing happened in the family unless Dorrie Ravencrest was front and center.
“Sloan, Arlen, Rafe, come and take your place at the front,” the pastor—Sloan’s uncle Martin Walksalong—called. “Everyone have a seat, and we’ll get you to your supper as quick as possible.”
His palms damp, Sloan followed his father down the aisle. Rafe was already waiting, Skye in his arms. “Hey, Sloan,” she said, leaning across to swing into his arms. “Mama says you gotta ‘nother best girl an’ you’re gonna marry her and kiss her every night.” She screwed up her face and made smacking noises, bringing laughter from those seated nearby.
“Your mama didn’t say that part,” Rafe mildly scolded.
“Well, that’s what you and her do every night.” Turning back to Sloan, she cupped his face in both hands. “You gonna marry Crystal?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And have babies?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Have girl babies, so’s I can have some to play with, okay?”
Rafe took her back then, settling her on his hip. “Babies aren’t like puppies, Skye. You can’t go taking the pick of someone else’s litter.”
“All right,” Martin spoke up. “When it’s time, the organist will start playing, and the doors back there will open—” he gave the cue, and Amy swung them open “—and the attendants will come down the aisle.”
Raeanne entered the sanctuary first, followed at a sedate pace by Winona. It was only the rehearsal, and already the old lady was crying.
“And now the bride,” Martin called.
The room hushed as everyone turned to look. For an instant the doorway remained empty, and then Crystal stepped into view. Like the rest of them, she wasn’t wearing anything fancy—black jeans, a sweater that matched the green of her eyes, boots with soles to handle the snow outside.
She was beautiful. Unbelievably, incredibly, heartachingly beautiful.
“It’s not too late, buddy,” one of his cousins called. “You can still escape the noose.”
“Sure, it is,” someone else responded. “Just look at him. He’s already a goner.”
Crystal was smiling gently when she reached Sloan’s side. “He’s right,” she murmured. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Oh, darlin’, it’s been too late for that since the first time I saw you. Besides, I don’t want to wind up a poor fool.”
She looked puzzled, as if she wanted to ask for an explanation, but Martin didn’t give her a chance. “Turn to face me and put your hand in his, Crystal. I’ll start with ‘Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here’ and go on with ‘Do you take this woman?’ and ‘Do you take this man?’ and the I do’s and ‘let no man put asunder’ all the way to ‘You may now kiss the bride,’ and then—”
Sloan pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her and gave her a sweet, tender, perfectly innocent kiss that roused sweet, tender, perfectly wicked feelings in them both. He heard snickers from the younger males in the church, along with a delighted giggle from Skye, and a good-natured “They always do this” from the pastor, and even though it was impossible, he would have sworn he heard Crystal’s soft Georgia whisper.
I do love you, Sloan. Always.
Or maybe it wasn’t impossible. Because judging from the glow in her eyes when he ended the kiss, he’d swear she’d heard his response.
Until we die and beyond.
Special thanks and acknowledgment to Marilyn Pappano for her contribution to the Montana Mavericks series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6088-1
BIG SKY LAWMAN
Copyright © 2000 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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Big Sky Lawman Page 24
