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Because, finally, he’d found home.
Epilogue
One month later
Ty sneaked from the small room behind the baptistry of Asa and Fiona’s church and peeked into the sanctuary filled with family and friends. Bex and Josiah sat in the fourth row on the bride’s side. A week after Ty had been released from the hospital, they’d packed and moved to Memphis.
He rubbed his gold band on his left ring finger. Two weeks ago, they’d been married in this very church, with just their immediate family and his SCU family in attendance. Owen’s mama had prayed over them at the ceremony, and Ty put her heart at ease—Owen may not have preached to the masses, but he’d shared the truth with him. And it had changed his life forever.
Josiah had been his best man. After their long conversations and counseling, their relationship was growing, and they were bonding. They even teased each other a little now.
Remember that time I shot you?
Remember that time I made you shoot me?
Bexley didn’t find it funny, but Josiah was like Ty in using humor to deflect big feelings, heavy subjects and conflict. He was finishing up his senior year homeschooling, and then would go on to community college to stick close and make up for lost time.
Ty and Bex had discussed adding to the family. Maybe he’d do alright with another son. He’d name him Owen. But if they had a little baby girl, he’d be equally happy. And they’d name her Camellia. Call her Tink. His eyes watered, and he ducked back inside, tiptoeing down the hall to the bridal suite and knocking.
“Let me in, Fi Fi McGee.”
“I hate it when you call me that,” she hollered, but she opened the door, and his breath caught.
“I know.” He tossed her a mischievous smirk. “You look amazing.” She wore a simple, silky white gown that flowed to the floor and a pearl headband.
“Thanks.”
Ty thumbed toward the sanctuary. “Luke Rathbone is out there. Asa just rubbing it in that he won you or what?”
His remark garnered him a reprimanding glare.
Violet, wearing a long, dark green dress, poked her body in front of Fiona’s. “Why are you in here?”
“You look stunning. Until you open your mouth. You got a gun under that skirt?”
Violet smirked and drew her dress up to reveal an ankle holster.
“Seriously?” Fiona asked. “Who do you think you’re going to need to shoot during the ceremony?”
“Tiberius. When he opens his fat pie hole during the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ portion of the ceremony.” She narrowed her gaze. “You know I’ll do it too.”
“I’ve been shot enough in this life. I’ll hold my peace.” For once he had peace to hold.
Selah popped her head over Violet’s shoulder, her eyes watery. “Nice bow tie,” she said. “He’d love it.”
It was black with one brown and one white fist-bumping each other. “Yeah. I thought he would. We’d be doing a lot of joking today—at y’all’s expense of course—and fist-bumping.”
Fiona framed his face with her hands. “Joke all you want.” She kissed him on the mouth. “At Asa’s expense.”
He tossed her a crooked grin. “I edited all the Lee Brice songs out of the playlist for the reception. Just so you know. We will be doing the conga and maybe ‘The Banana Boat Song.’ ‘Day-O,’” he sang.
His song choices incited groans all around.
“It’s almost time. Go away,” Fiona jested.
“Saw John and Stella out there,” he said to Violet. “She’s wearing a frilly dress and a plastic holster and sheriff’s badge.”
Violet grinned. “Girls can be sheriffs. They can be whatever they want. When they want.”
