Page 39 of Lost Trust

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re wiggling.”

He giggles.

He looks so grown up. His white shirt is crisp beneath a black paisley-patterned vest. Dark jeans disappear into his black cowboy boots, and his pale blond hair falls just past his chin.

The large cream-colored cowboy hat sitting on his head is almost comical, but somehow, he makes it work.

I tuck his little tie neatly beneath the collar. “There you go.”

He turns toward the mirror in the corner of the room, and I smooth one hand down his back as he grins at his reflection.

“Perfect,” I whisper in his ear.

He looks down at himself. “Do I look like a cowboy?”

“Sure do. And I bet you’re gonna be the handsomest cowboy at the whole wedding.”

His face lights up. “Even handsomer than Mr. Bryce?”

I pretend to think about it. “Well … almost. We shouldn’t outshine the groom. It’s his big day.”

He nods, apparently satisfied.

I rise and glance in the mirror above him as I put on my earrings.

For a moment, I barely recognize myself.

The soft sage-green dress falls all the way to the floor, the pleated fabric moving like water when I shift. The fitted bodice gathers beneath my bust before loosening into a flowing skirt, and the neckline is low without exposing too much. Layered necklaces rest against my chest, and my brown cowboy boots peek out from beneath the hem.

I haven’t had an occasion to wear something so feminine in a long time. It feels good to dress up.

I glance at Ryder through the mirror. “Okay, one more thing.”

He looks up.

“What’s the most important rule today?”

His little brow furrows. “We have to be good.”

“That’s right.” I crouch in front of him again. “When the ceremony starts, we have to be very, very quiet.”

He puts a finger to his lips.

“Exactly like that.” I smile. “We have to sit real still and listen to the preacher. No talking. No standing. No climbing under the chairs.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“And if you’re very good and behave, we get to go to the big party afterward.”

His eyes widen. “A party?”

I nod. “Yep. A party. With cake and music and dancing.”

“Dancing? With the pretty girls?”

I laugh. “With the pretty girls.”

He thinks about this very seriously. “I promise I’ll behave.”