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Oh yes, introductions. “June Moonrose, this is Sheriff Conrad Ryan, my forever. He will be sitting down in just a few moments and not getting up again for hours.”
The two shook hands. When Rolex rubbed against Jane’s leg, she bent down to pick him up and plant kisses all over his beautiful face.
Conrad smiled and said, “I see the re?—”
Trick, Isaac, and Wyatt hurried over, basically shoving him out of the way to introduce themselves, too, and June blushed.
“—semblance,” Conrad finished with dry amusement.
Jane examined his features, making sure there was no evidence of strain. His color was improving with every hour, but yeah, she detected signs of fatigue. She rose on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck to draw his face closer to hers. With her lips at his ear, she whispered, “Want me to send everyone home?”
He clasped her hips and whispered back, “And skip our engagement party? Never.”
“Save that for the honeymoon, you two,” Fiona said with a laugh. She shooed the boys aside and hugged June as if they were long, lost family. “I’m so pleased to meet you, young lady. I’m Fiona Lawrence, and I love you already. We’re going to be amazing friends, you and I.”
“She makes the best blueberry pancakes in the world. And she’s the only person I want to walk me down the aisle.” Jane blinked, the truth suddenly so clear. Of course she wanted Fiona to escort her. Because this wedding was happening. No curse would ever be as powerful as her love for Conrad.
Actually, the curse wasn’t powerful at all. It was a lie and lies crumbled when under pressure. The curse had just launched its best shot—and it had failed. Fear wasn’t stopping Jane. Her lawman was right. They were stronger together than apart.
Joy spread over Fiona’s lovely face. Jane set a squirming Rolex on the floor. As he raced to Tiffany, Jane and Fiona threw their arms around each other, laughing and crying.
“You’re sure?” Fiona cried, and even Conrad grinned.
“I’ve never been surer.” Fiona had loved and adored Jane from day one, treating her as a treasured gift. Seeing the best in her, never the worst. She’d protected Jane’s heart as if it were her own, being a father, mother and friend as needed.
“Then my answer is yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Jane laughed again. Now that she understood Fiona’s role, other things fell into place. “Tiffany and June, please be my bridesmaids. Beau, of course, is matron of honor.”
“Obviously,” the war vet replied.
“Maid of honor,” Trick corrected. “Beau isn’t married.”
Laughter rang out, the most beautiful sound.
Bouncing on her feet, June grinned. “I’m in shock you thought of me but honored!”
“Finally!” Tiffany anchored her hands on her hips. “Now I get to share the comprehensive wedding guide I’ve been preparing for you. From the colors that work with your skin tone to everything else, no detail is too small.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “But for now, I have something different in mind. Come and behold the incredible feast I made.” Grinning from ear to ear, she waved everyone into the kitchen.
As people grouped up, they followed her to the counter, where the most awful looking dishes waited. Soggy coleslaw that gave off a slightly sour smell. Rubbery fried green tomatoes somehow both over and under cooked at the same time. A motor oil-thick gumbo with mystery meat. Heck, mystery everything. And goodness. Even the sweet tea appeared gritty with undissolved sugar. She must have added the sweetener while the tea was cold. The horror! And the cake. Oh heavens no. It was lopsided with thin, watery icing.
No one spoke a word for several minutes, everyone too busy fighting to maintain a look of non-horror.
Rolex jumped onto the counter, sniffed a dish, and hopped down.
“I did good, right?” the widow asked, hopeful and uncertain, yet somehow confident, too.
“So, so good,” Fiona praised, patting Tiffany on the shoulder. “Your hard work is a gift to each of us, and we are grateful. Aren’t we, gang?”
“Grateful,” many parroted.
“I helped with the catfish. A few pieces might be a little over sauteed, but the flavor is still excellent,” June piped up, and Fiona patted her shoulder too.
“Grateful,” everyone repeated.
“Please, dig in!” Tiffany said with a wave of her arm.
Unable to do anything else, they did. And, Jane noticed, the entire group cleaned their plates. Of course, the guys did their best to discreetly spit out their bites into napkins while Fiona and Jane choked everything down. The travesty of flavors nearly murdered her tongue, and her stomach threatened to rebel in a thousand different ways.
