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I wiped my nose on his shoulder, looked up, and met his gaze.
“You’re going to have the chance at something you thought was lost to you.”
Yeah. My father was alive. I still didn’t quite know how to feel.
But Bryce continued, pulling a small box out of his pocket. It was black velvet tied with a golden ribbon. “Your father’s attorney already got the warden to agree to a furlough when we decide on a date. If you want, he’ll be able to walk you down the aisle.”
Epilogue
Bryce
Golden.
Everything about this day was golden.
I stood at the makeshift altar in the backyard of the main ranch house. A little over a year ago, I’d been at this same spot as a guest at Ryan and Ruby’s wedding.
Joe stood next to me in a black tux that matched mine. I’d insisted on a tux. A man didn’t marry the classiest woman on the planet in anything but a tux.
Melanie sat with baby Brad, now eight months old, perched on her lap. He was a gorgeous child. His hair was dark like Joe’s, his eyes sparkling green like his mother’s—his mother, who’d been a guide to me, helping me deal with the guilt. Finally, I was ready. Ready to marry the woman of my dreams. Ready to move on with my life—my amazing life.
Talon sat next to Melanie with
Diana Jade in his arms. The baby’s big brothers doted on her. We all hoped she’d sleep through the ceremony.
Ryan and Ruby sat on the other side of the aisle, next to my mother’s empty chair. At Marj’s bridal shower a week ago, Ruby had announced she was expecting. Her pretty face glowed.
Colin had kept in touch with Marj. He and Cade were slowly healing. Ted Morse had tried to reconcile with his son but hadn’t had a lot of luck. None of us were going to put a good word in for him. His wife had left him high and dry in a highly publicized divorce when everything went public after Brad’s incarceration. Losing his money and lifestyle was the ultimate punishment for Ted Morse.
I looked down the aisle at my beautiful little son, his hand tightly in my mother’s. His blondness was so like my own at that age, my mother said constantly. So like mine, and so like…my father’s. We could both say it now without wincing. We didn’t have to banish all the good memories…though I had finally gotten rid of his cherried-out Mustang in favor of a more conservative set of wheels that would keep my family safe.
I’d also worked out a deal with Henry’s mother. Marjorie and I had full custody, but she had visitation rights four times a year. My father had indeed forced her to sign away her rights, and I felt I needed to help make up for that.
My mother had to help Henry get down the aisle. He was nearly two now but still needed Grandma’s assistance so he didn’t drop the rings.
The notes of Mozart’s “Wedding March” from The Marriage of Figaro drifted across the gorgeous evening like the soft melodies of a quartet of songbirds.
I smiled.
My little son, blond and blue-eyed, held on to the gold pillow with both hands as my mother guided him toward me. He smiled when he reached me, and my mother took her seat.
Next came Jade, Marjorie’s matron of honor, in a golden gown.
And then…my love.
With her father. She hadn’t forgiven him yet. None of us had. That would take more time. But she’d allowed him the ultimate honor on this day.
Devastating in ivory, Marj carried a bouquet of her favorite yellow Asiatic lilies. The canary diamond engagement ring—the stone a gift from my mother—sparkled on her left ring finger.
Pure beauty. I’d never quench my desire for her. Day after day after day we’d be together, and my love and passion for her would always be insatiable.
I took the pillow holding the rings from Henry, handed it to Joe, and then hoisted my son in my arms.
Yeah.
Everything about today was golden.
“Ready to get married, buddy?”
