A Christmas Wedding For The Cowboy. Mary Leo
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to hear the conversation. “I thought priests frowned on all that premarital stuff.”
“We do, but I’m also your cousin.”
“Once you put that collar on, our relationship changed.”
“It shouldn’t have. You can still confide in me.”
“Great. I’m confiding in you now. I need you to not blow it for me, at least not until I’m ready for the town to know the truth. Two cancelled weddings in one family in less than six months might be too much of a scandal for the Grant family to bear. We’re a sensitive bunch. And that includes you, cousin. It took you months to tell the family you’d decided to attend Mount Angel Seminary in Oregon instead of continuing on at Idaho University.”
“That was different. I was engaged to Connie Ballantine and I had to figure out how to tell her without breaking her heart.”
Carson shook his head. “I never could figure out why you asked her to marry you in the first place when you knew from when you were no higher than a June bug you wanted to be a priest.”
“Same reason why you asked Marilyn Rose to marry you, and why your sister said yes to Jimmy Bartley.”
Carson stepped back to get a better look at his cousin. “What are you talking about? What reason?”
But Zoe interrupted before Father Beau could respond to Carson’s question. “I think clusters of towering white branches, tied together in a bunch, at every pew would really pull it all together,” Zoe said as she walked up to Father Beau and Carson, who stood in the middle of the church. “That, coupled with all the Christmas decorations the church will provide, will be breathtaking. What do you think, Father Beau? Will we be allowed to do some branches for your cousin’s wedding?”
Christmas decorating had already begun inside the church. Two massive blue fir trees waited to be illuminated and decorated inside the sanctuary. Rows of white and red poinsettias lined the stairs to the main altar, and a life-size nativity set was going up just outside the front doors on a cleared and sheltered grassy knoll.
Father Beau hesitated answering as Carson’s heart skipped a beat. Then, with a warm priestly smile on his unlined face, he turned toward Zoe and said, “Yes. That would look lovely for any wedding.”
She turned to Carson. “What do you think, Carson? Will that idea work for you? Should we get Marilyn Rose’s agreement? I can try calling her, if you would like.”
Carson felt the blood drain from his face as he contemplated his next move. He had no idea what his cousin had meant when he compared his own failed wedding plans with Kayla’s and Carson’s. He wanted him to elaborate on that but the excitement on Zoe’s face told him he’d have to wait until another time.
Carson knew he had to respond. Merely nodding wasn’t an option this time. But did she have to look so dang cute when she was talking about his bogus wedding? Couldn’t she be more matter-of-fact about it? More businesslike? The glow that radiated from her smiling face was way more than Carson could deal with. He didn’t know why he was having such a visceral reaction to her, and inside a church of all places, but he couldn’t seem to control himself. Every time he looked into those doe eyes of hers, something inside him buzzed with excitement. He had no idea what made him so attracted to her, but this whole wedding planning thing with Zoe Smart was going to get a lot more difficult if he didn’t come to terms with his emotions real quick-like.
Carson turned away from Zoe and looked to his cousin for some support. Certainly, after all he and Beau had been through together, Beau would have his back.
Big mistake.
Father Beau conjured up a sarcastic little smirk on his clerical face. “Yes, cousin, what do you think Marilyn Rose will say about white trees lining the aisle? Seems like a big decision for a cowboy to be making on his own.”
Carson’s mind raced. His heart pounded in his chest. His palms were sweaty. He was more nervous about his answer than he ever had been gearing up in a chute, easing down on a bucking horse.
“I...um... She would love it. Let’s go with the white trees and the flowers, lots of flowers,” he told Zoe. “Whatever you think would look good is fine by me.”
“I love flowers, so if you’re sure you want me to put it together, the church will look like a snowy Christmas wonderland.”
“Yep, go for it,” Carson agreed after he let out the breath he’d been holding on to.
“And that’s your final word on the subject?” Father Beau asked him the question in that inquisitive priestly voice Carson knew so well.
“Absolutely yes. That’s my final word.”
A warm smile spread across Zoe’s lovely full lips and Carson’s temperature immediately rose as he moved away from her and gave his cousin a sheepish glance.
“Well, I believe we’re done here,” Carson announced and proceeded to walk toward the front doors of the church.
He could hear Zoe’s boots echoing behind him as she tried to catch up.
“Nice seeing you again, cousin. Drop in anytime you might want to talk. Our doors are always open,” Father Beau called after him.
Carson held up a hand, but refused to turn around.
* * *
“WHO WOULD HAVE thought that picking out a wedding cake could be this tough?” Carson said as he flipped through a binder filled with pictures of decorated tiered cakes. He tried his darndest to take all this seriously, but looking at white frosted cakes with flowers, swirls and an assortment of other feminine decorations was simply not something this rodeo dog ever thought he’d be doing.
It was now day two of the wedding myth, and although he’d overheard some speculative rumblings about his upcoming ceremony, there was no concrete evidence that it wasn’t going to take place. As long as he kept his mouth shut, no one seemed to be the wiser.
Except maybe his sister Kayla, who kept bugging him about attending their family dinners on Sunday nights. Most ranchers and farmers in these parts liked to spend at least one night a week with their family around the dinner table. Sunday seemed to be the night of choice, and the Grant family was no exception. Even Father Beau attended and contributed a dessert or a main course at least two Sundays a month.
If Carson had his calculations right, this coming Sunday Father Beau would be in attendance. All the more reason why Carson wanted to stay away. Beau knew the truth and his mere presence at the dinner table might force Carson to spill his secret.
Carson hadn’t made it to the family ranch in several weeks due to the weather, his aches and pains, and any number of excuses he could conjure up. He hadn’t wanted to see his family and be forced into answering a million questions about his slow recovery. And he especially didn’t want to see them now that his wedding fabrication was in full swing.
Still, they were celebrating his dad’s sixty-fifth birthday this Sunday, so there was no getting around it. He had to show up.
He’d awoken that morning determined to come clean with the truth, but then Zoe Smart called reminding him of their plans to pick out a cake from Holy Rollers Bakery. He didn’t want to disappoint Zoe on the phone, so without hesitation he agreed to meet her, thinking he’d tell her once they were settled inside the warm bakery, sipping a hot beverage. After all, there was no way he would fork out good money for a cake that no one would eat.
However, as soon as he saw her charming face and heard that sweet voice, he knew if he sprung it on her at the bakery she’d say her goodbyes, hand him a bill for her services, and that would be the last time he’d see her. She’d probably hate him for taking up her time during her busy day when his girl had already ridden off into the sunset.
So instead, there he was sitting across from her and Amanda Gump at a small table in the back of the bakery. A sweet scent of sugar and spice hung in the air as they each sipped on hot chocolate complete with bakery-made