by Diane Kelly
After I climbed into the passenger seat and clicked my seat belt into place, the boy drove forward to the window and turned to me. “You still want your drink, right?”
“Heck, yeah. And Marissa’s buying.”
I reached into her purse and removed her wallet, handing the boy a twenty-dollar bill to give to the barista. He exchanged the money for the drinks. When the barista held out the change, I told him to drop it in the tip jar. Marissa and her former husband had ripped enough people off. It was time she showed some generosity.
The barista gave us a big smile. “Thanks!”
“Did anyone inside call the cops?” I asked.
“About what?”
“About the gunshot.”
His eyes went wide. “Someone shot a gun?”
“I did,” I said.
His eyes went wider and he slowly shook his head. “We can’t hear anything in here when the machine’s going. It’s too loud.”
“All right.” I raised a hand in good bye. “Take care.” I wasn’t sure if anyone else had notified local police yet, but I wasn’t going to wait around to find out. I had a wedding to get to.
The delivery boy pulled away and I took a sip of my latte. Yum.
“Got a cell phone on you?” I asked.
“Sure.” He pulled one out of his back pocket and handed it to me. I debated calling local law enforcement to take Marissa and her partner in crime off to jail, but the wedding should have begun ten minutes ago and I didn’t want to keep my wedding guests waiting any longer or delay the event and end up having time for only a short reception. I wasn’t going to let anything, not even a kidnapping and attempted murder, ruin my wedding day.
While the delivery boy aimed for Nacogdoches, I dialed Nick’s number.
He answered right away. “Hello?” His voice sounded frantic and strained.
“It’s me.”
“Tara?!?” he cried into the phone.
“I’m okay,” I told him. “I’m on my way to the church.”
“Where are you? What happened?”
“Remember Marissa Fischer? Pastor Fischer’s wife?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s just say she’s been holding a grudge.”
“Good Lord!”
“I’ve got Marissa and her new husband in the back of the van they used to kidnap me.” I told him their hands and feet were taped and they no longer posed a threat. “I’m bringing them back with me.”
“I’ll get a marshal out here for transport.”
“Is everyone still at the church?”
“Your parents and the guests who came in on the party bus,” Nick said. “Everyone else is out looking for you.”
“Round ’em up,” I said. “You and I are getting hitched.”
We ended the call and I dialed my mother’s phone.
Like Nick, she answered immediately. “Hello?” she choked out.
“It’s me, Mom,” I said. “I’m fine. I’m on my way back to the church.”
“It’s Tara!” she cried aloud, presumably to my father. “She’s okay!” She returned to the line. “Where are you?”
“Lufkin. I’ll explain everything when I get back there. Tell Dad to have his shotgun ready.”
Half an hour later, we pulled into the church parking lot. While all of the wedding guests were gathered on the asphalt, at the front stood Nick, my family, Bonnie, Detective Booth, Pastor Beasley, and my coworkers. All of the agents had their guns in their hands, including Lu, while my father and brothers had their shotguns. My six-year-old niece Jesse stood next to my father in her lavender flower-girl dress and pink cowgirl boots, her Daisy BB gun clutched in her hands.
Nick ran toward the van but I raised my hand. “Stop! You can’t see me in my dress until the wedding! It’s bad luck!”
“Bad luck?” He threw up his hands. “Hasn’t that ship already sailed?”
Maybe, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “Close your eyes.”
He grunted, but nonetheless indulged me and closed his eyes.
When I opened the door of the van, everyone else rushed over, wanting details. I stood on the running board and addressed the crowd. “Last year Nick and I arrested an unscrupulous pastor and seized his assets. I was the lead on the case. His ex-wife and her new husband decided to even the score by kidnapping and planning to kill me.” I hiked a thumb. “They’re in the back of the van. I’d appreciate if y’all could help me keep an eye on them until we can get marshals out here to haul them off.”
Eddie, now dressed in his best-man tuxedo, circled around to the back of the van and opened the doors. Will, Hana, and Josh joined him. They grabbed my prisoners and pulled them from the van.
Hana cut an anxious look my way. “You told me things were all right when this van showed up earlier.”
“Sorry!” I replied. “I thought they were legit. If they’d murdered me, I would’ve taken full responsibility for the mistake.”
She rolled her eyes, but her shoulders relaxed. Looked like she’d forgiven me for almost getting myself killed.
My father stepped over and held out a hand to help me down. I took it, but before stepping down, I looked out at the crowd. “Let’s get inside and get us married!”
While everyone scrambled to their places, my mother, Jesse, and my bridesmaids met me back in the bridal room. Christina stood in front of me and quickly repaired my makeup, while Alicia took a place behind me to fix the curls tossed about by the wind coming through the shattered van window on the drive back. A few minutes later, I was ready.
My mother gave me a hug, fresh tears welling in her eyes as she stepped back and took my hands in hers. “You’re a beautiful bride, hon. I’m so glad you found Nick. You two are going to have a wonderful life together.”
I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes, too. “Thanks, Mom. Now don’t say anything else or I’ll start bawling!”
She smiled and released me.
We stepped out into the foyer to begin the processional. Once Bonnie and my mother were seated, Christina tossed me a smile, took the arm of Nick’s cousin, and headed down the aisle. Alicia and Eddie, the matron of honor and best man, joined together next. Alicia blinked back happy tears on my behalf, while Eddie gave me a thumbs-up. The two of them headed into the church.
The ring bearer was one of Nick’s second cousins from his father’s side, a cute boy of eight with amber eyes like Nick’s. He looked up at me expectantly. My heart pounded in excitement as I bent down and put a hand on his shoulder. I looked from him to Jesse. “It’s y’all’s turn to go now.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek to send her off.
Jesse clicked the heels of her pink boots together and skipped away with her basketful of rose petals from the bushes at my parents’ house. The ring bearer trotted after her. Though I couldn’t see far into the chapel from my vantage point in the wings, I was able to see the back row where Marissa and Darryl had been seated. While Booth sat between my two kidnappers, my brothers sat guard on either side of them, their shotguns on their laps. Jesse stopped at the back row, grabbed a handful of petals, and hurled them in Marissa’s and Darryl’s faces. She followed up by sticking her tongue out at them.
Standing next to me, Dad shook his head but smiled. “Your mother’s right. That girl’s got your spunk.”
Having put my kidnappers in their place, Jesse continued down the aisle, offering the rest of the guests an adorable, gap-toothed smile as she and the ring bearer made their way to the front, leaving a trail of rose petals in their wake.
The organ music shifted, signifying my entry. My father offered me his arm. “I never thought I’d be willing to give my little girl away,” he said, “but I know I’m putting you in good hands, the hands of a man who loves you nearly as much as I do.” His mouth turned up in a soft smile.
“Oh, Dad!” I said on a sigh as I slid my arm through his. “You and Mom are bound and determined to make me cry, aren’t you?”
He chuckled and the two of us s
tepped into place at the end of the aisle.
The guests rose from the pews. Well, all but Marissa and Darryl, who couldn’t stand with their ankles taped together and weren’t invited guests anyway. As we headed up the aisle, I glanced left and right, meeting the happy gazes and supportive smiles of the people who meant the world to me.
My brothers who’d both tormented me and looked out for me, now watching over the man and woman who’d tried to end my life. My brothers and I might have driven each other crazy as kids, but I wouldn’t trade the two of them for anything.
Neighbors, former classmates, and other assorted people from Nacogdoches, some of whom I hadn’t seen in far too long but with whom I reconnected on special events like today. Clara Humphreys, a nice woman who shared a little too much information about her ailments but who’d always brought her car to the high school volleyball team’s car wash fund-raisers and left us with a generous donation. Big Bob, my former boss from Big Bob’s Bait Bucket, who’d ironed his jeans and shined his best boots for this fancy occasion. Miss Cecily, who ran the charm school my mother had sent me to so I’d learn manners and social graces and how to behave in polite company.
Next were the people I’d met working the various cases over the last year and a half. The Pokornys who ran the Czech bakery. Bernice and Merle from the dinner theater. Madame Magnolia, the seer, who held up a crystal in each hand and softly murmured a chant as Dad and I walked past. My guess was the gesture was some sort of spiritual blessing or good-luck ritual. Benedetta Fabrizio and her three beautiful daughters. Judge Trumbull, U.S. Attorney Ross O’Donnell, and my former defense attorney, Anthony Giacomo, among others.
Then there were my coworkers, of course. My boss Lu, who’d teared up and was dabbing at her false eyelashes with a tissue. Next to her was her boyfriend Carl in his standard comb-over and leisure suit, along with his shiny white bucks. Hana, Will and his wife, Josh and Kira. Viola had come along in the party bus, too.
Sitting just before the rows reserved for family were Christina’s husband Ajay and Alicia’s husband Daniel. I was glad my two closest friends had found such wonderful men to share their lives with.
Finally, of course, came my family and Nick’s. Well, other than my brothers, of course, being that they were on guard duty at the back of the chapel. My sisters-in-law smiled at me, as did my nieces and nephews. Bonnie gave me a warm smile from the groom’s side of the aisle as we approached. My mother did her best to smile, too, though her lips wriggled with restrained emotion and her eyes were moist.
Eventually we reached the front of the church, where my dad shook Nick’s hand, released me, and stepped back to take his place beside my mother on the front row. Nick looked down at me, his amber eyes aglow. He ran his gaze up and down, taking in me in the dress. “Wow,” he whispered.
I ran my gaze over him in return. While I loved how Nick looked in his usual western shirts, jeans, belt buckles, and boots, he looked unbelievably handsome in his classic black tuxedo, too. “Wow, yourself,” I whispered back.
Pastor Beasley, a short, stout man with thick salt-and-pepper hair, stepped up to the podium to begin the service. “Dear friends and family, we are so glad you all could gather here today to celebrate the marriage of Tara Holloway and Nicolas Pratt. While I’ve only recently had the pleasure of meeting Nick, I’ve known Tara since she was knee-high to a grasshopper and winning the biggest prizes at the shooting booth at the church carnival. Frankly, I was afraid she’d scare the boys off. I wasn’t sure there was a man on this earth who could handle a girl like her.” When the crowd finished laughing, he gestured to Nick. “I’m glad to see I was wrong.”
Nick cut his eyes my way and slid me a grin. I slid him a grin right back.
The pastor launched into the usual niceties about what marriage meant, the union of two lives, etc., etc., blah-blah-blah. Already bored, the ring bearer started a subtle pillow fight with Jesse, gently swinging the small satin pillow and bopping her on the rear end. It was an unfair, one-sided fight given that she wasn’t properly armed with a pillow of her own. But like me, the girl was resourceful. She upended her flower girl basket and pulled it down over his head like a hat. Fortunately, before things could get too out of hand, Alicia intervened, separating the two.
My niece Olivia, who was the star of her school choir, came to the front of the church with her guitar and sang a beautiful solo for me and Nick, her own special rendition of Shania Twain’s “Forever and for Always”. Before she left the altar, I waved her over to give her a hug. “That was perfect,” I whispered. “Thank you.” Taylor Swift better stay on her toes.
Finally, Pastor Beasley asked the million-dollar question. “If there’s anyone who knows any reason why these two should not be wed, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
A muffled sound came from the back row, an irate, red-faced Marissa making a last-ditch attempt to lambaste us but being thwarted by her duct tape. “Mmf! Mm-mmm-mumm-mf!” When my brother Trace nudged her thigh with the butt of his shotgun, she slumped back against the pew and went quiet.
It was now time for Nick and me to exchange vows and rings. We turned to each other, taking each other’s hands and looking into each other’s eyes. Nick shot me a wink, and I shot him one back.
Nick was the first on the hot seat. The pastor turned to him, reciting the vows, which Nick repeated. “I, Nick, take you, Tara, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, forsaking all others, until death do us part.”
I was up now, and reflected the same vows back to him.
Pastor Beasley turned to Eddie. “May we have the rings?” Nick had given them to his best man. A good idea since we obviously couldn’t even trust the young ring bearer with a pillow.
Eddie stepped forward and handed the rings to the pastor, giving me a warm smile as he stepped back into place.
The pastor led us through the exchange of rings. When Nick slid the ring on my finger and looked into my eyes, it was all I could do not to burst into tears of joy. His voice was strong and full as he said, “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge my life to you. Wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment.”
My ring now on my finger, the pastor handed Nick’s ring to me. I slid it onto his finger and repeated the vow. “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge my life to you. Wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment.”
We turned back to the pastor, who looked from one of us to the other. “Y’all want to seal this deal with a kiss?”
“Heck, yeah!” Nick grabbed me, bent me over backward, and planted a big warm kiss on my laughing lips. When he pulled me upright again, he gave me a nice, proper kiss. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close for a long, warm hug. He’s all mine now. I never want to let go.
“Beloved guests,” Pastor Beasley called out, sweeping his hands to indicate me and Nick, “May I present for the first time as husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Pratt!”
The crowd clapped, whooped, and whistled with congratulations.
Nick led me back down the aisle, but even though my feet hit the floor, it felt as if I were floating. I’m Mrs. Tara Pratt!
We walked outside the church to find marshals waiting by a squad car, ready to take Marissa and Darryl into custody.
“Congratulations,” said one.
The other nodded and added, “Hope they didn’t spoil your wedding.”
“Nope,” I replied. “Nothing could.”
Nick hiked a thumb back at the church, where our guests were beginning to stream out. “A detective from Dallas and Tara’s brothers are holding the two in the back row. Just so you’re not surprised, her brothers are armed with shotguns.”
The first marshal shook his head. “This gives new meaning to the term ‘shotgun wedding.’”
He could say that again.
We continued on to Nick’s truck, where he helped me in. He circled a
round to his side and climbed in. Though he slid the key into the ignition, he didn’t start the engine. Instead, he turned to me. “An hour ago I feared I might never see you again. And now you’re my wife.”
“Crazy, huh?”
He smiled softly. “I don’t know what life might throw our way, but there’s one thing I’m certain about. Life with you will never be boring.”
I smiled back at him and leaned over for another kiss.
We headed out and, a few minutes later, turned off the county road and onto my parents’ long drive, which Mom had marked with paper wedding bells and white streamers to make it easy for our guests to find. We parked in front of my parents’ house and headed for the large tent that had been erected near the barn.
Everything looked perfect. The tables were covered with lavender and light blue tablecloths and featured centerpieces with cala lilies and purple asters. The caterers had set up a buffet along the back of the space and had the Southern supper spread ready to go. They’d made many of my mother’s and Bonnie’s best recipes. Chicken-fried steak. Fried okra. Cornbread. Even my latest favorite, sweet potato fries.
A well-stocked bar stood angled in the front corner, two bartenders ready to serve anything from wine to whiskey. An ice-cold keg was situated nearby for those who preferred a cold brew.
My parents and Bonnie arrived shortly after Nick and me, and the five of us formed a receiving line outside the tent to welcome the guests to the reception.
Eddie, his wife Sandra, and their adorable twin daughters were among the first to arrive. The girls squealed when they spotted the five-layer, four-feet-tall wedding cake towering on a table in the center of the tent.
“It’s so big!” cried one.
“I want a cake like that when I get married!” exclaimed the other.
My mother and Bonnie, who’d baked and decorated the cake themselves, bent down to address the twins. “You just let us know the date,” Mom said, “and we’ll make you a cake exactly like that one.”
