SOPHIE JOHNSTON ROUNDED the corner of the barn, getting her first glimpse of her fiancé’s surprise for her. It was a large white arbor, practically dripping with white flowers. Colton had wanted to do something special for their wedding, and she was willing to let him do whatever made him happy because there was only one thing she needed at this wedding—him.

      Her two bridesmaids and best friends, Lily and Mattie, walked up the aisle, their slow step-pause gait making her crazy because, frankly, all she wanted to do was bolt down the aisle to Colton’s side.

      As Lily and Mattie continued their slow walk, Colton stepped into view and the sight of him in his tux took her breath away. He was not a tall man, but his five feet eight inches seemed more than ample considering she was five-two on a good-heel day. His dark hair was always cropped short, but he’d let it grow out a bit for the wedding, and had tamed it with gel or something, because it seemed to be staying in place.

      As she waited for her friends to finish their laborious walk, moments with Colton flashed before her eyes.

      Colton in his cowboy hat, walking by the plate-glass window at the diner. She’d been blatantly staring, and when he had turned and looked inside, their eyes had locked. He’d come in, strode over to her table and asked her out.

      Colton taking her to the ridge on his farm. He’d made a picnic and they had sat in the Adirondack chairs he’d bought and placed up there for them. One blue, one yellow. They’d watched the sunset on Lake Erie. He’d told her that he loved her that night. She’d said, “Thank you.”

      He’d told her he loved her every day for weeks, and finally one night she’d admitted, “I love you, too.” He’d said, “I know.”

      He’d known. He seemed to understand her in so many ways. Sometimes he understood her better than she understood herself. And there he was, waiting for her.

      Mattie and Lily finally stood to the left of the altar. The guitarist nodded at Sophie, started to play the bridal march, and she finally began her own walk down the aisle.

      Sophie tried to force herself to maintain the same sedate gait as her bridesmaids had, but she wasn’t sure she was managing it. She was able to stop herself from running, but barely.

      She was almost at Colton’s side when he reached down and picked up...a cowboy hat. He slipped it on his head. A white hat.

      He’d told her he wore the hat to protect himself from the sun while he was in the fields or the vineyard. She’d teased him, saying he was a closet cowboy. All heart, honor and passion for the land.

      He’d told her that his greatest passion was her.

      Sophie stopped her headlong race down the aisle for a moment because she was laughing so hard. Colton adjusted the obviously new hat on his head and grinned at her.

      This was the man she was about to vow to spend the rest of her life with.

      The perfect man for her.

      He laughed with ease, but more than that, he made her laugh, as well. He accepted her as she was, and had never tried to make her be something she wasn’t.

      He loved her.

      He wasn’t a talkative man, but his every action told her he loved her.

      She took the last two steps and was at his side...where she belonged.

      Where she planned to spend the rest of her life.

      She grasped the hand of the man she loved.

      It was a perfect day. The sky was a brilliant June blue. The field next to the arbor was dotted with new green stalks that would be tasseled corn by the end of the summer. Behind her there were rows of borrowed chairs, all festooned with white ribbons and lace and occupied by most of the occupants of Valley Ridge, New York—her friends and surrogate family. The air was awash with the scent of flowers.

      But none of that mattered to Sophie. It could be stormy and cold. The entire town could have ignored their invitations. The chairs could be old and ratty, and the arbor could blow down in the gale.

      As long as Colton was next to her, it would still have been a perfect day.

      All she needed was him.

      He gave her hand a quick but solid squeeze, and Sophie knew a sense of rightness. Of wholeness.

      Of love.

      “Dearly beloved,” the minister said as tiny wind chimes, which hung from the corner of the arbor, tinkled in the light breeze.

      The minister inhaled, and Sophie could scarcely contain her joy. She wanted to scream yes right now. Yes, she’d take this man for better or worse. Yes, she’d take this man for richer or poorer. Yes, she’d take this man for the rest of her life.

      Yes. Yes. Yes.

      She looked at Colton and whispered “yes” to herself at the same moment that someone from behind her shouted, “I object.”

      Sophie turned, as did Colton. As did everyone gathered in her beribboned chairs in Colton’s field. A young girl with vivid blue hair stood in the back row of the chairs. “You can’t get married yet. Not when I’ve worked so hard to find you. No. It’s not fair.”

      “Do you know her?” Colton whispered.

      Sophie shook her head. She had no idea what to do. When she was thinking about her wedding day, she had tried to make plans for every contingency. If it rained, they’d move the ceremony into the barn, where they had held their engagement party and where their casual reception would take place.

      If the minister got ill, she knew a man at one of the wineries who’d become ordained online in order to perform weddings for his winery’s new reception hall. She’d call him.

      If the caterer’s trucks broke down, she’d call in her friends and ask them to supply a quick potluck.

      If her parents showed up and caused a scene, she had Valley Ridge’s local police officer as one of her guests, and he could cart them off to jail, or out of town. She knew Dylan would take them somewhere. Anywhere that wasn’t here.

      Yes, Sophie was sure she’d thought of everything, considered every possibility. But she hadn’t ever imagined someone objecting to her marrying Colton.

      He took her hand again, and together they walked down the aisle to the girl—at a pace much faster than the one she’d used walking toward Colton. Of all the catastrophes Sophie had imagined, having a blue-haired girl object to her wedding hadn’t been one of them.

      Colton motioned the girl away from the rows of chairs. “Who are you?”

      “Tori.” The name came out like a curse, filled with anger that vibrated on those two syllables. “Her daughter.” She nodded at Sophie.

      Daughter? Sophie started to shake. She felt as if there wasn’t enough air to draw a breath. She felt light-headed