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Allison stuck her head in with a bright grin, but it faded when she saw I was still in my satin bridal bathrobe.
"Carmela! Your wedding starts in five minutes," she said.
"Technically, it can't start if I'm not there," I said.
"I'd like to hear you make that argument to a judge sometime," she said. She came into the room the rest of the way and hurried over to me. "Come on. Let's get you dressed. Everyone is ready."
I let her help me slip into my dress. I wanted a simpler wedding, but that didn't mean I was going to give up my opportunity to wear a wedding dress. The one I chose was long and glistening, the blush color perfect for the spring. She helped me get my arms into the lace sleeves and buttoned up the back. She nestled a pearl comb holding a cascading matching blush veil into my hair and arranged the layers of frothy fabric against my back. When she gave me a nod, I turned around and looked in the mirror.
Tears sprang to my eyes as soon as I saw my reflection. Of course, I'd seen myself in the dress, and I'd tried on the veil, but it was different seeing everything put together and knowing this wasn't practice. It was for real this time. In a matter of moments, I'd be walking down the steps and out to a wagon decorated with flowers that would take me to the place where Mark was waiting for us to say our vows.
I did my best to calm my emotions and stem the tears before they smeared my makeup. Fanning my face to cool and dry it, I finally nodded.
"All right. Let's do this," I said.
Allison smiled and went to the vase at the side of the room to get my bouquet. Just like the rest of the flowers for the wedding, these weren't from a florist. Mark and I gathered them from the ranch together, dedicating hours yesterday to collecting the most beautiful spring blooms and putting them in water with a special solution to keep them fresh. The result was a gorgeous burst of color that was a celebration of spring, of nature, and of the ranch itself. It felt authentic to us and was one of my favorite details.
The wagon wasn't designed as a special entrance for me for the ceremony. It was just to get me close without me having to walk the whole distance. Camden waited for us near one of the stables and helped me down out of the wagon. Allison went on ahead so she could go down the aisle before me. For a few seconds, my brother and I hung back. Emotion was tugging at my chest again. This was one of the moments I thought about often when I was younger and still grappling with the loss of our parents.
It was Camden and me against the world in so many ways. The two of us had to cling to each other and prove we could make it through life with only each other to rely on. It wasn't always easy, but I was grateful we’d done it. My brother meant more to me than I could ever express, and I'd always known he would be the one to walk me down the aisle when the day finally came.
Now it was here, and I was not only preparing to take that walk, but when I reached the end, it would be to meet with one of his oldest and dearest friends, a man he'd known most of his life. It was more than I ever could have asked for, and I was nearly overcome with the happiness filling me.
"Are you ready?" Camden asked.
I nodded and squeezed his hand. "Yes. Thank you for everything."
"You, too," he said. He squeezed me in return. "I love you, sis."
"I love you, too."
The music changed, and we headed toward the spot Mark and I had chosen for our ceremony. Perhaps exchanging vows in the middle of a horse corral wasn't the most conventional or expected option, but it was exactly right for us. This was where we reconnected and where I'd announced our fake relationship. Not everyone at the wedding knew that detail, and I liked it that way. It was something for us, and I would treasure it.
We'd selected a straightforward ceremony and a couple of brief readings rather than something long and drawn-out. One thing we agreed on right from the beginning is that we weren't going to write our own vows. We both liked the idea of using an established ceremony with traditional vows that had the prestige of having been repeated countless times before for generations. It felt more real to us, like we were doing something significant rather than just exchanging nice words like we already did all the time.
