by Cindi Madsen
More like how could she have let her eyes and her heart do the decision-making when she knew better?
They were questions she’d already asked the Bridesmaid Crew chat, after telling them that she and Ford were no longer, and instructed the girls to please smack her upside the head if she ever started talking about a tempting hot guy again.
They replied with a mixture of validating her feelings, consoling comments, and threats to Ford’s person. All of which she appreciated, and it made her love her group of friends even more.
I can’t wait to get back to them, she thought, but it didn’t quite ring true. Yes, she wanted to see them, but they’d still have their lives, and she’d have… Well, she’d figure it out along the way as she put herself back together once more.
Addie and Tucker’s wedding was going to be painful, but Violet wanted to be there for them and for Lexi. She’d stick near the exit and congratulate the happy couple when they stepped away from the dude of honor. She’d survive.
Somehow.
“Violet,” Maisy called. “It’s for you.”
For a second, the world ground to a halt.
Ford? Her traitorous heart fluttered, its short-term memory ready to make a fool of her. She’d overrule it and use her brain this time. As she walked toward the living room with Isla in her arms, though, her throat went bone dry.
Instead of Ford, Lexi and Addie stood in the living room.
Violet told herself she was relieved, even though her stomach bottomed out and called her a liar. “Hey, ladies. How’s it going?”
“Horrible,” Lexi said. “The wedding is falling apart, and we have a giant favor to ask.” She glanced at Addie and motioned between them, muttering something about should she do it or did Addie want to?
Foreboding pricked her skin—and where was her glass of water, because she might die of thirst in the next minute or so if she didn’t rehydrate.
“Well, you know how my sister was supposed to be one of the bridesmaids?” Addie asked. “She didn’t have a tummy bug. Turns out she’s pregnant—the ultrasound estimated she’s already three months along. She’s been super nauseous but was still planning on being in the wedding.
“Only when she arrived yesterday, she started bleeding and ended up in the hospital. The doctor prescribed bedrest. She can come to the ceremony, but not the reception, and she can’t do anything but sit and watch. The doctor told us, like, a hundred times. And he added a threatening reminder that he’d be attending, too.”
While Violet was upset on Addie’s behalf, she wasn’t sure why they’d come to her with the news. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something to help.”
“Funny you say that,” Lexi said. “Because you and Alexandria are about the same size. And you already know everything about the wedding, so…”
“Would you be my fill-in bridesmaid?” Addie asked, hope shining in her features. “I get that it’s complicated, thanks to my dude of honor being a huge jerk—something he and I are gonna have some words over, trust me.”
“And we’ll make sure you don’t have to walk down the aisle with him,” Lexi said. “You literally just have to stand there in the dress and occasionally help straighten Addie’s gown. Maybe hold an extra bouquet and make small talk with townsfolk. Stuff like that.”
“Otherwise, Lexi will be the only female besides me.” Addie twisted the end of her ponytail around her finger. “And after decades, I finally got the town to realize I am, in fact, a girl. So even though part of me wants to say who cares what they say, I do, to a certain extent. Especially when it comes to my wedding.”
A pit opened up in Violet’s gut as her brain screeched into overdrive. She’d given up playing bridesmaid and everything wedding-related because it hurt too bad. Given up men.
Given up most everything.
Lexi lightly touched the forearm Violet had wrapped around Isla’s middle. “We realize we’re asking for a huge favor and that it’s totally last minute.”
“I just want tomorrow to be perfect, and you’ve done the bridesmaid thing before, and…” Addie’s breaths came faster and faster. “I’m trying not to panic, but the bridal rollercoaster is throwing me for a loop. And when I was lost on decorations and cake and a dozen different things, you stepped in and calmed me down, lickety split.”
Addie stepped closer and squeezed Violet’s shoulder. “I’ve even thought that if I’d met you earlier, you would’ve been in the wedding party. Now we have the opportunity to fix that. And no pressure or anything, but I won’t be able to sleep until I know this is taken care of.”
Both she and Lexi brought their hands up in prayer position and, as if they’d practiced it a hundred times, added, “Please.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rain poured in a steady stream—enough that Ford had pulled the hood of his jacket over his baseball cap. The bill kept his face fairly dry, and he was grateful for the waterproof duds. Rivulets formed on the hillside, and mud caked the soles of his boots, adding an inch or two to his height.
Slowed him down some, too.
It also left Nitro struggling and unsure. While the rain wouldn’t erase Mr. Wagner’s scent, it could muddle it by carrying it into formed puddles that confused the dogs. Particularly inexperienced ones.
Pyro will find him. He’s the best of the best.
It’d been a while since Ford had seen his trusty black German shepherd, but he wasn’t worried. Even with the flooding down south, Pyro understood his limits. He’d find the hiker, and if Ford didn’t respond to his barked alert, Pyro would find him and lead him back to Mr. Wagner.
Nitro sniffed the ground and yipped.
“You pick it up again, girl?”
She took a sharp right, one that led them up the side of a hill. Ford scraped off what mud he could on a rock so he could get better traction for the climb.
A howl cut through the air.
Pyro had found Mr. Wagner.
Better yet, Nitro was headed in the right direction.
Ford shined his flashlight around until he spotted Pyro up on an enormous boulder. Nitro scrambled up the rock as well and began howling along.
After slipping and slopping a couple of times, Ford reached the top.
Unfortunately, Pyro and Nitro both had their noses pointed down.
Lashing rain muffled a shout, and Ford glanced over the edge of the boulder, into the crevice. There at the bottom was Mr. Wagner.
Ford introduced himself and asked for a quick recap.
Mr. Wagner had been hiking and wanted to see the view from the top. He’d lost his footing and fell. The narrow, stony outcropping he’d landed on was lucky in a lot of ways. If it hadn’t “caught” him, he would’ve plummeted six or seven stories, and Ford would’ve been retrieving a body instead.
“I’m going to secure a rope,” Ford called to the man. “Do you think you can climb?”
“Not sure. My ankle might be broken. It swelled up enough I had to take off my shoe.”
Shit. The last thing you were supposed to do was remove the shoe—it gave the ankle too much room to swell. “Hold tight. I’ll be down shortly.”
Ford radioed in his location and asked for backup. Then he searched for the best spot to set up a single point anchor.
The nearest pine was dead and thus a no go. After assessing the trunks of the other nearby trees and the length of rope needed, Ford got to work.
A quick water knot, two strands of tight webbing, and he clipped in the carabiner.
With that rig set up, Ford put on his harness, secured everything, and headed to the edge of the rock so he could rappel down. He glanced at the dogs. “Sit. Stay.”
Their furry butts hit the ground, but Pyro whimpered, his attention on the hiker.
“I’m gonna get him. You two stay and wait for backup.” Slowly, Ford hung over the edge. A
s sure as he was in his anchor, this moment always tested his nerves, an intoxicating mix of trepidation and thrill.
One foot at a time, he began the descent.
Halfway to the outcropping, Ford’s foot slipped out from under him, the moss, rain, and mud caking his boots a dangerous combo.
The rope zinged, and pain shot up his calf. For a breathless beat, he was free-falling, the miles and miles underneath him coming fast.
His harness jerked, and he slammed into the rocky cliffside. Ow.
On autopilot, his feet and fingers searched for and found purchase.
Each thump of his heart was a punishing relief, the beats frenzied but life-affirming.
The clouds parted, revealing a full moon, and the world lightened a shade. Enough to see the distance between him and going splat.
Just like that, his life flashed before his eyes, along with his regrets.
Namely, one.
She had dark hair, brown eyes, and the kind of smile that lit a fire inside him and obliterated his troubles. Violet made him feel strong, assured, and more important than anyone else ever had.
She made him better, not only because he’d worked to rise above his past but because her faith in him made him want to be his best version.
“You okay?” Mr. Wagner asked, their roles momentarily reversed.
“Yeah. Happens all the time in the rain,” Ford answered. The latter was true. The former, a bald-faced lie.
Do you have a sweetheart? Doris’s words echoed through his mind. Someone who makes your life worth that much more?
There’s peace in being fulfilled. In living without regret. And if it’s my time to go, I know my Harold will be waiting for me on the other side.
The past several days had forced a magnifying glass to his life. He’d stubbornly denied what his brain had whispered since Violet walked away from him last Saturday night.
With his adrenaline taking over, his mental shield was down, and he saw his life for what it was.
Incomplete.
At night, as he tossed and turned, he felt around for the woman who should be next to him, only to come up empty. No one called him on his shit. The absence of laughter rang through his house, the silence so loud he could hardly stand it.
Hell, even the dogs noticed the void.
If he plummeted to his death right now, his life wouldn’t be worth anywhere near what it could’ve been with Violet by his side.
For all his talk about adventures, he’d been too scared to take a real risk. Love was the biggest adventure of all, and he’d tucked his tail between his legs and pushed away the woman he’d fallen for.
No one would ever compare; he knew that much. He’d made a horrible, awful decision. Chalk it up to lapse in judgment or good old-fashioned fear—it didn’t matter. What mattered was he loved Violet, and he’d been an idiot to let her go.
I miss her. My life isn’t full. It’s so empty I can hardly stand being around myself.
Ford gripped the rope as resolve seized his body.
He wasn’t going to fall, because as soon as Mr. Wagner was on his way to the hospital, Ford was going to get his own act together and come up with a plan to fix what he’d carelessly broken.
A quick recalibration, and Ford lowered himself onto the outcropping.
After checking Mr. Wagner’s vitals, he assessed the ankle.
Definitely broken, and Ford reached into his bag and fashioned a splint.
Barks shattered the silence, and a couple of minutes after that, two beams of light cut through the dark. Backup had arrived.
Ford patted Mr. Wagner on the shoulder. “Hear that? That means you just have to hang on a little longer. We’ll have you out of here and on your way to the hospital in no time.”
“They’ll call my wife so she’s waiting when we get there, right? I need to see her.”
Ford’s heart expanded, flooding with images of the woman he hankered to see. He cleared his throat and nodded. “She’ll be there.”
Meanwhile, his house would be empty, save dogs who’d be happier to see Violet.
I’m gonna fix it. There’s gotta be a way to fix it.
Fingers crossed he wasn’t too late.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Violet’s feet dragged as she followed Lexi out of the dressing area, Addie right on their heels.
While she could only imagine how much Tucker and Addie were waiting for this moment, it was the one Violet had dreaded since agreeing to fill in as bridesmaid.
But the day wasn’t about her, and as she glanced over her shoulder, the nerves that’d been using her stomach as a trampoline settled.
Addie reached up as if to twist the end of her ponytail around her finger before seeming to remember her hair had been weaved into a romantic updo. Her makeup was on the natural side, and her white gown fit her impeccably. She swiveled the toe of her bright yellow Converse sneaker as she fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger.
“You look beautiful,” Violet said, and tears rose, threatening to test the bounds of her waterproof mascara.
This was how she’d get through the day—by focusing on Addie’s happily ever after.
Lexi pivoted and grasped Addie’s hand. She grabbed one of Violet’s as well. “In all the madness, I’m not sure I told you two how much I’ve enjoyed planning this wedding. I can get a smidge uptight when it comes to being prepared—”
“No,” Addie teased, and the three of them giggled.
“I hide it well, I know,” Lexi said, eliciting more laughter. “But you two made it fun.”
Addie’s eyebrows arched. “Aversion to everything girly and all?”
“Yes. Mostly because Violet had my back with that.” Lexi gave Violet’s hand an affectionate squeeze.
Now Violet truly was going to cry. She dabbed a fingertip to the corners of her eyes, and Lexi waved a hand in front of her face as she demanded they cry on the inside.
While Violet knew it was time for her to return to her real life, in her heartbreak, she’d underestimated how much these women had come to mean to her. They’d instantly accepted her and made her feel welcome in a town she used to view as an adversary.
Then there was her reconciliation with Dad and Cheryl—and gah, Maisy and Isla—and if she thought about that now, no amount of blinking would prevent her from turning into a sobbing mess.
Footsteps broke through, a stride Violet somehow recognized, even as she told herself that was silly. It was simply because she couldn’t help thinking of Ford.
Not to mention it was time for him to join the bridal party.
He cleared his throat, and Violet told herself to think of him as the sun and avoid looking directly at him.
While her brain was on board, her eyes went rogue.
For all of Ford’s jokes about wearing a bridesmaid dress, the way he rocked a yellow bow tie, daisy boutonniere, and golden suspenders was unfair. His gray slacks hugged thighs she absolutely wasn’t going to think about. His jaw-length hair had been cut to right above his ears and was lightly gelled, and misery pumped in and out of Violet’s heart until her entire body ached with it.
Seeing him was harder than she imagined it’d be—and she’d imagined it plenty.
More than that, she’d hoped she’d feel differently now. But the mangled heart thudding away in her chest whispered that somehow, she still loved him.
As she sorted through the tornado of emotions, she snatched the furl of anger and clung on to it.
“Violet,” he said, and the blood in her body turned icy and sharp.
Lexi stepped forward and hissed at him, the words inaudible but the warning clear.
Will and Easton rounded the corner, dressed identically to Ford.
Lexi and Will did the telepathic-couple thing, and he pulled Ford aside while Lexi reached for the
bouquets she’d kept in a cooler by the door.
The golden sunflowers, white daisies, and seeded eucalyptus contrasted the chiffon fabric of the yellow bridesmaid’s dresses. The ruched tops were practically identical to Addie’s strapless, sweetheart neckline, and the flirty skirts flared at the knees.
Addie’s father and grandmother arrived, and while seeing Ford had sucked every ounce of joy out of the air for Violet, Lucia managed to bring the happy vibes.
The older woman completed a twirl. The yellow tulle of her ankle-length skirt flared to reveal her pair of matching Converse sneakers. A sunflower adorned the white lace top, and the sunflower crown on her head contrasted her white curls. “Where is my basket? I ready to throw petals at everybody!”
“On the aisle, you mean,” Lexi said.
Lucia snatched the basket of petals, and Violet bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at how adeptly she’d avoided agreeing.
The woman did whatever she wanted, and Violet respected her spirit. When they’d discussed her outfit, Lucia insisted on a flower girl dress, scoffing at the conservative styles her daughter-in-law had shown her. In the end, they’d asked Lottie to tailor one.
Considering the way Lucia beamed and twirled, Violet was of the opinion more people should wear whatever they wanted. Who’d decided only little girls could enjoy tulle skirts and flower crowns?
Violet’s gaze snagged on Ford’s, and anguish sledgehammered her chest.
Another hit like that and she feared her heart might cease beating altogether.
“It’s time.” Lexi shooed Lucia to the front and then hooked her arm through Will’s. Violet settled her hand in the crook of Easton’s elbow, thankful Ford had moved behind her, where her eyes couldn’t as easily stray.
Mr. Murphy stepped up to the bride-to-be’s other side, he and Ford each taking one of her arms.
This setup had been settled on to counteract the uneven numbers, even before Violet had taken Alexandria’s place.
Still, the idea of being on the same aisle as Ford was excruciating.
Since her brain hated her, it drifted to the night when Ford had said he’d never play bridesmaid again, and she’d teasingly inquired What if I asked?
