Meet Me At The Chapel. Joanna Sims
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met Brock’s eye before she said, “Not this time, Hannah. Penny has an ear infection.”
“Next time,” Brock added. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear something from Billy.”
“Text me if I don’t answer.”
“Consider it done.”
She stood with the truck door open and mustered a small smile for him. “Thank you for everything, Brock. Seriously. Above and beyond the call of duty.”
He tipped his hat to her, and she interpreted that gesture as a you’re welcome and a thank you, too. She got out of the truck and said goodbye to Hannah and her father.
Her sister was opening the door at the same time Brock was pulling away.
“Casey!” Taylor was holding her baby daughter in her arms.
They embraced tightly, as they always did. They were more than sisters—they were, and always had been, best friends.
“Oh, Tay—she’s even prettier in person.” Casey touched Penelope’s creamy, chubby cheek. “Hi, Penny, you sweet, sweet thing. Your aunt Casey is going to spoil you absolutely rotten! Yes, I am!”
“She’s so fussy right now because she doesn’t feel well.” Taylor kissed her daughter’s warm forehead.
“Poor Penny.” Casey looked at her little niece compassionately.
“I’m so happy to see you, Casey.” Taylor hugged her again. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”
Together they walked up the driveway to the front door of the bungalow. “I’ve missed you. I hate that we don’t live in the same town anymore.”
“Me, too.” Taylor shut the front door behind them. “Let me see if she’ll lie down for her nap. It’ll give us a chance to catch up. She hasn’t slept well for a couple of days, so cross your fingers.”
Casey held up her crossed fingers for her sister to see.
Taylor didn’t reappear for a while. When her sister returned to the living room, she was talking in a quieter voice.
“Okay—she’s down. For how long is debatable! Is it too early for wine?”
“No. Bring it on, sis.” She could use a large glass or two.
Taylor had been diagnosed with the inability to lactate after the birth of her daughter, and the only upside her sister could find was the fact that she had been cleared to drink wine.
Casey sat down at the breakfast bar while her sister got the wineglasses.
“Red or white?” Taylor asked her from the open refrigerator.
“Either—as long as it’s not too dry.”
Taylor held up a bottle for her to see. “How about this?”
Casey gave her the “okay” sign; generous portions of wine were poured and the two of them moved to the cozy family room next to the kitchen. Taylor immediately coaxed Hercules onto her lap, and the micro-poodle didn’t hesitate to abandon her owner for a novel lap.
“Traitor,” Casey said to her canine companion.
“Here’s to a great summer.” Taylor touched her glass to hers.
“To a great summer.” She took several large gulps of the wine. Taylor hadn’t even asked her about the rental truck.
Her sister curled her legs to the side, leaned into the couch cushion and smiled happily at her. “I am so happy to see you.”
“You may not feel that way in a minute.”
Taylor’s eyebrows dropped and her pretty blue eyes registered confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Casey downed the rest of her wine. One of her most intense childhood memories was the time that she decapitated Taylor’s favorite Barbie doll and then flushed the head just to see if it would indeed flush. It had. And Taylor had gone absolutely crazy-town ballistic on her and then stopped speaking to her for a month. Granted, they were kids when that happened. But then again, this was much worse than decapitating Barbie. Much worse.
Her sister’s reaction to the news that her belongings were trapped in a tipped-over truck on the side of the road was not at all what she had anticipated. Taylor wasn’t angry. Taylor wasn’t looking to blame her. Instead, her sister was simply grateful that Casey and Hercules were okay. Taylor had always had a flair for the dramatic, and this change in her was unexpected, but it was a change for the better. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a mother now; or perhaps it was because she had already lost one of the most valuable gifts she had ever been given—Penelope’s twin brother, Michael, had died soon after he was born. Casey hadn’t experienced it, but she didn’t have to experience something to understand that losing a child, an infant, could change a person forever.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us? Clint and I both want you to stay,” Taylor asked her as they walked together along the brick walkway that led to the driveway.
She’d been in Montana for a week already, and so much had happened: the Beast had been towed into town, her travel trunk and Taylor’s boxes had been recovered and Clint had arrived home with his arm in a sling and loaded up on pain medication. According to the doctors in Texas, Clint’s healing time would be roughly a month or two, but he wouldn’t be fit to get back on a bull. He was grounded for the entire summer, at least.
Casey, who was holding her niece in her arms, was too busy nuzzling Penny’s sweet-smelling neck to pay full attention to her sister. “Mmm, you have that new baby smell, Penny.” She hugged her niece, not wanting to let her go. Casey smiled at her sister. “Babies! They always smell so good. I wish I could bottle this smell and take it with me.”
“Casey! Please, stop ignoring me. You came all the way to Montana to be with Penny and me, and I feel like deep down inside you think that we don’t want you here because Clint is home. And that’s not the case at all.”
Casey smooched her niece all over her face one last time before she said, “Trade.”
Taylor frowned at her as they traded babies—her sister handed over Hercules and she handed over Penny.
“I don’t think you’re kicking me out, Tay. I know you want me to stay. I know Clint is sincere when he says that he’ll be happy to have me staying on his couch for three months, but I’m telling you, it’s gonna wear real thin by the end of four weeks. Trust me. He’s an active guy and now he’s stuck with his arm in a sling when he should be out earning points. Your husband is going to want to sit on his couch and watch TV, in his tighty-whities, whenever the mood strikes.”
Her sister didn’t respond for a second or two, because Taylor knew she was right.
“I’ll come and visit all the time. I’ll be here on a moment’s notice if you need me. Nothing’s changed.”
For the last week, her sister had been debating her choice to stay in Brock’s loft apartment with her. Taylor had her own agenda: she either wanted her to stay with her or stay with their aunt Barb and uncle Hank at Bent Tree Ranch. Basically, anywhere besides Brock’s ranch.
Taylor’s eyes had a watery sheen and Casey knew that her sister was upset to see her go. “Look—I know you don’t like the idea that I took Brock up on his offer, but it really is for the best. His place is closer to Helena than Bent Tree. And I love the idea of being able to ride anytime I want. Brock says he has a palomino mare who’s getting barn sour. I’m actually going to be doing him a favor by riding her this summer.”
Her sister wiped under her left eye with her pinky. “I know how much you want to ride again.”
This was Taylor’s