Heather choked on a laugh. “Of course she did.”
The opening chords of a soft acoustic song floated across the trees as Joe and Kenny, guitar and banjo in hand, played from the small setup near the dock. Guests filled the bales, most of them wranglers, Watkins cousins, and neighbors. Some wore boots and bolo ties, others floral dresses and denim. The laid-back warmth made Heather’s bones ache with gratitude.
Frank appeared at her side and held out his elbow. “Ready, Sis?”
Heather nodded, emotional, happy tears threatening her mascara. The love she felt was so all encompassing, she wasn’t sure she could contain it. She was marrying the love of her life, the man she’d loved since she was a young girl. And she was surrounded by a family and community who would always have her back, no matter what.
The music changed, softened, and Charlotte gave a dramatic sigh. “Okay. Time for the petals.”
With perfect pageantry, she stepped out first, a pink basket swinging from her arm, Pepper on one side and Sherry on the other, the two small dogs concentrating fiercely on their flower girl duties.
“Let’s go,” Lori whispered. “He’s waiting.” Lori followed behind Charlotte and the animals.
“He’s a good man, Sis. The best.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I’ve known that since I was old enough to notice boys.” Holding her brother’s arm, Heather stepped onto the path, the sunlight bathing the walkway like a gentle watercolor wash. And as they rounded the bend, she saw him.
Lyle stood on the dock in dark jeans, boots, and a crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves. A charcoal vest hugged his broad frame, and from his breast pocket peeked a single daisy Charlotte had picked that morning. His jaw was tight, his hands clasped before him. Until he saw her.
And then, he smiled.
When their eyes locked, everything else faded away, the guests, the wind, the string lights swaying above. It was just him. And her. A universe collapsing into a single, shared breath.
Mike stood at the end of the dock, a bible in his hands. Since their father wasn’t here to officiate, Mike had applied for his ordination so he could perform the ceremony. They could have asked Jeremy, who was pastoring the church now, but having one of their brothers doing the honors gave each of the Watkins men a sense of their parents’ presence. Bill Watkins would have been proud.
“Guess we’re all here,” Mike said when Heather reached Lyle's side. “And most of us are clean.”
Laughter rippled through the guests.
Mike looked at Frank. “Who gives this beauty’s hand in marriage?”
Frank placed a soft kiss on Heather’s cheek. “I happily do.” He looked at Lyle. “She’s my best friend, and I’m entrusting her to my other best friend. You take good care of her, hear me?”
Lyle nodded. “I will love her and protect her with my life. Always.”
He took Heather’s hands in his, and she found she couldn’t stop smiling. Lori stood beside her as Matron of Honor, and both Joe and Kenny stood up for Lyle. She saw Charlotte settle against Pudge's picnic basket in the front row. Sherry and Pepper curled at her feet, but the puppies weren’t settled. She had a thought that there might well be chaos, but she didn’t care. Her heart was overflowing. She had everyone and everything she needed right here.
As the ceremony began, Heather looked down at their joined hands, her small, delicate fingers wrapped in Lyle’s strong, calloused ones. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, a silent benediction.
“I’ve watched a lot of things grow on this land,” Mike said, his hands on his father’s leather bible. “Cattle. Marriages. Families. And today, we get to see another take root.”
Heather barely registered the way the pond shimmered behind them or the way the dogs left Charlotte’s side and circled before lying beside her dress like sentinels of peace. Genuine love buzzed in the air, from every guest, every flower, every breath of wind that rustled the cottonwoods.
“You are my sunrise and my peace,” Lyle said when it came time for vows. His voice was low, steady. “My compass. My family. I promise to stand with you in every storm. To work beside you. To hold you when you’re tired. To dance with you when you’re silly. And to love you all the days I’ve got left on this earth.”
Tears tracked down Heather’s cheeks as she whispered her reply. “You loved me back into believing. In people. In dogs. In hope. You never tried to fix me. You just stood beside me until I wasn’t afraid anymore. You are my home, Lyle Watkins. And I promise to fight for us with everything I’ve got. Every day. Always.”
The wind rippled the pond like a sigh.
“Folks,” Mike said, grinning now, “By the powers vested in me, I pronounce these two the newest branch of the Watkins family tree. Lyle, kiss your bride before Pepper beats you to it.”
Lyle pulled her close and kissed her, long, deep, and slow, with one hand tangled in her hair and the other pressed to the small of her back. The guests burst into cheers. Pepper barked with enthusiasm. Pudge yawned from her basket, unimpressed.
Later, as the sky turned lavender and fireflies blinked in chorus, they all danced on the barn’s old rug-turned-dance floor strung with fairy lights. The dogs wove through the crowd, accepting scraps and belly rubs. Neighbors toasted with lemonade and sparkling cider. Joe and Kenny’s music echoed between the fields.
Heather leaned into Lyle as they swayed to an old love song, Charlotte dancing nearby with Mike, her feet standing on top of his boots.
“I didn’t think I could ever be this happy,” she whispered.
