Page 145 of No White Knight


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I’m sorry, Libby. Sorry I left you here to handle things alone.”

“Enough apologies. You had your reasons.” I curl my hand against her forearm and lean into her. “Crappy reasons, but still…reasons.”

“Hey.” She nudges her cheek against mine with a laugh. “Please don’t forget I got the crap beaten out of me by a gorilla pretending to be a man, just trying to save your butt.”

“And you’re gonna remind me of that every time I give you hell?”

“Yep!”

We both laugh—but it’s a quieter laughter, a sweeter humor that reminds me of when we used to play together as girls.

“Hey,” I murmur, squeezing her arm. “Remember the first time I tried to learn to ride?”

“I remember you eating a faceful of dirt,” she teases.

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “And you got down and kissed my forehead, picked me up and made sure I wasn’t broken, and then put me right back on that horse. Remember what you said to me?”

“I do,” she answers, her voice softening with emotion. “We don’t fall. We never fall. We just learn how to stand up again.”

I smile. It’s surprising how hard that hits me.

“I feel like I’ve been falling down and learning how to stand up again too much, Sierra. All by myself. And now I’ve got Holt, and you…”

“Now now, no getting teary-eyed on my account.” She squeezes me tight. “But I know the feeling. I just…I ran away, yeah. I kept falling and was so stubborn that I couldn’t admit that where I wanted to be was here.” She bites her lip. “I missed y’all so much, but I felt like you didn’t see me at all. You and Dad had each other, after Mama died. So I thought you wouldn’t even notice if I was gone.”

“I noticed,” I say thickly. “We noticed. You messed up, but we all do. You’re my sister, and I love you.”

“Dammit, Libby, I’m going to ruin your hair.” She buries her face in the messy tower of curls on top of my head. “I love you too.”

I let out a shaky laugh.

“Gonna ruin my makeup if you make me cry.” I scrub at my eyes, making sure not to smudge my liner and eyeshadow, and nudge her. “Screw the hair, let me take this mess down and get in my dress. Can you do me a favor?”

In truth, she’s already done me a lot of favors.

Sierra’s half the reason we’ve been able to get the ranch up and running again so fast with my new money. It helps having her to hire folks and show ’em the rounds.

The other half?

Totally Holt, the man who’s waiting on his “I do.”

God, it feels good to be able to pull together after pulling alone for so long.

I smile as Sierra gives me a puzzled look in the mirror.

“Sure, what can I do?” she asks.

“Go outside,” I say, “and get me a handful of flowers.”

* * *

I can hear the crowds outside by the time I shimmy into my wedding dress and take my hair down into a deliberately messy tumble.

Then strew it with flowers, Sierra and I rushing to thread the stems of the delicate pink and blue blooms in so they’re scattered evenly throughout.

A lot like stars against the sky.

Just like the stars in the constellation necklace I still wear around my neck. It makes me feel like Dad’s here today with us. And I think he’d be glad at the man I picked to marry.

Sierra gives me a tight hug before rushing out to take her place in the bridal procession, thrusting my bouquet of daffodils into my hands before she’s gone.

I start to follow…

…and then nearly trip on my heels.

And my dress.

Look, I’m not used to this, okay?

But even if I’m rough and foul-mouthed, I want my wedding to be that kinda day.

A little extravagant, a little overblown, where I get to be a little bit of a princess.

So while my dress looks simple, a pretty white silk sheath with stars embroidered along the bodice in little specks of diamond, it’s long enough to trail the floor in flows that look graceful.

Just wish I could say the same for the heels. They’re taller than what I’m used to with my boots.

I right myself, grabbing at the wall—only for a thin, wizened hand to gently take my arm, helping me up.

“I’ve got you, dearie.”

Ms. Wilma.

Pretty as a picture in a slim white skirt and matching jacket with a daffodil pinned to her lapel.

She hooks her arm in mine, holding me steady in more ways than one when my heart races a mile a minute. We step outside, where my future husband waits.

Maybe we’re a cliché in Heart’s Edge, having our wedding here on the cliff like so many before us.

I don’t care.

I want our forever.

I want the happy ending that legend promises.

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