The room stills.
Rose inhales shakily. Jet straightens. Charlotte checks my veil like she’s inspecting armor.
My mom takes my hands, fingers trembling.
“Ready?” she whispers.
I take one deep breath, and the air actually reaches my lungs.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m ready.”
We line up in the small hallway. The hum of voices outside shifts as people realize it’s happening. My stomach flips.
Through the crack in the door, I catch glimpses: Mason jars of wildflowers. Strings of lights hung across the rafters. Cowboys in clean shirts pretending they aren’t emotional. Kids swinging their legs under chairs.
I spot Boone first. Standing tall, shoulders broad, tie slightly crooked like someone wrestled him into it. Nash is next, grinning too wide, eyes bright. He winks at me like this is all a prank, and he’s proud of us for pulling it off.
And then Clay.
He stands with Dallas, a little apart, hands clasped in front of him, dark hair neatly combed like he’s trying to behave. His jaw is tight, eyes fixed forward.
I know that look now.
It’s the look of a man holding something down so it doesn’t spill.
Clay is leaving.
Not today, but soon. The bull riding circuit doesn’t wait for anyone’s feelings. He’s been packing quietly all week, pretending it’s no big deal, while the whole ranch pretends not to notice how often Dallas goes quiet when Clay’s name comes up.
Because this is what the McCoys do.
They love hard.
They lose hard.
They keep going anyway.
My chest pinches with it, sharp and sweet.
I swallow hard.
Then the doors open fully.
The room stands.
And I see him.
Dallas is at the front beneath an arch made of pine boughs and wildflowers, the kind of arch that smells like the woods and looks like someone built it with love and stubbornness. He’s in a suit that fits him, but he’s uncomfortable with how good he looks, and his hands are clasped in front of him like he’s afraid they’ll shake if he lets them go.
Then his eyes meet mine.
And his face changes.
It’s subtle, like everything with Dallas, but it hits me like a wave anyway. His shoulders ease. His mouth softens. His eyes go bright.
Like he’s been holding his breath and I’m the exhale.
My knees wobble.
