Page 71 of Blue Jean Summer

Hayes chuckled. “No. It’s just something I wanted to do for you. It’ll be here later.”

There was a quick knock, and Mason poked his head in. He had trimmed up his beard, gotten a fresh haircut for the occasion, and looked absolutely dashing. In one hand, he held his cowboy hat by the top, always the gentleman—never wearing it indoors. In the other was a bouquet of pale pink roses, stored safely in a vase. The stems had been tied together with a white ribbon.

He offered a sheepish smile as he stepped into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to bring you your bouquet. I waited to cut the flowers until just now so they’d be at their best. I trimmed off the thorns too. I know you said you didn’t want anything fancy, but I hope it’s alright.”

My heart ached at the sincerity in his eyes. Because as much as I felt like I had lost everyone, I had gained what I’d once had, tenfold.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you for going through all that hassle.”

Mason set the vase on an end table and pressed the brim of his hat to his chest. “It’s no trouble at all. It’s not every day I get to prune the roses for a Wilder wedding.” Concern marred his handsome features. “If there is still a wedding to be had. Do you need me to get rid of some folks?”

Hayes looked down at me. “I can take Mason with me to get you that head while Hallie shines up the estate’s best silver platter.”

I laughed and found Hayes’s hand. “The wedding is still happening.”

Mason nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Do let me know if you need anything.” He turned to head out the door.

“Mason?”

“Ma’am?”

I glanced at Hayes, then back at Mason. “Would you walk me down the aisle? I don’t…have anyone to do it.”

He didn’t hesitate. “It’d be my honor.”

Chapter 18

Catherine

“Mason?” I whispered even though no one was around to overhear. We stood inside the house, behind the doors that led to the patio and the rose garden. Nerves skittered across my skin, nipping into me like fire ants.

“Ma’am?” he said as he stood sentry at the doors, waiting for the signal from Hallie for us to walk down the aisle.

I fidgeted with the opera gloves. “Can you…talk to me?”

He lifted a thick brow.

“I just need a distraction.”

Mason’s smile was kind. “And here I always thought you had nerves of steel. Takes a brave one to do all the pageant stuff.”

“God, I wish I was onstage right now,” I muttered.

Mason left his post at the doors and rummaged around a potted tree in the corner. A woven basket hid the actual pot but left enough space between the two to hide—

I laughed and raised an eyebrow as Mason straightened and produced a mini liquor bottle. “How did you know that was in there?”

Mason cracked the top. “Walt hated events as much as Hayes does. He hid moonshine in most of the rooms. I don’t think he’ll mind if you borrow some. But this is all you get. One shot to calm the nerves.”

I took the mini bottle and grimaced as I downed a measly sip that tasted like hellfire, leaving half for him. “I don’t drink alone.”

Mason chuckled and downed the rest in one swallow, not even wincing. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

“Please,” I begged as Mason hid the bottle back in the pot.

“Something you learn in bulldogging is that you just have to jump. Might hurt a little when you fall. You might get banged up. But you don’t win if you stay on the horse.”

That took me by surprise. “You were a steer wrestler?”