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She blinks and sucks in a breath. “We’re about to start.”
30
My heart is in my throat in a way that makes me think I’ll never take another breath. I stand by the canvas curtain, knowing it’s useless against catching me if I fall.
Noah strides toward me, his expression blank. When he’s fully closed the distance between us, he stops. “Then we’d better get out there.”
I manage to nod but don’t move.
He glances at my feet. “Can you walk?”
I nod once and turn toward the crowd settling into chairs. My eyes are dry, but everything is a blur.
On the first step, my heel gets caught in the grass. I’ve been walking on this damn field all morning and now it gets stuck?
Noah takes my hand and I grip him for support as I yank it out, cursing. “I can walk,” I assure, tugging myself out of his grip.
I didn’t expect him to actually release me, so when he does, I lose balance and bump into someone behind me.
“Oh, excuse me,” I breathe.
“My goodness, dear. Are you alright?” A soft female voice is in my ear, and I turn.
I blink at her familiar features. And then remember where I last saw this face. In the article claiming she was dead. Her hair is dark, almost black, not auburn like Pepper’s. Her skin not as pale as we all remember.
“Mrs. Woods?”
She blinks, stepping back. “No—no. I’m uh…”
“It’s alright,” Noah says softly behind me. “We know who you are. We’ve been looking for you.”
She shakes her head, taking another step back. “You have me confused with someone else.”
“Emma?” The deep voice in front of us is Mr. Reeves.
The woman gasps and there’s a hint of relief behind it. “Aiden.”
Their embrace is friendly and quick before Aiden pulls back. “Is he with you?”
She shakes her head. “It’s too risky.”
“Say no more. We’re glad you’re here.”
She blinks back at us cautiously when he closes her into our circle. “You remember my son, Noah?”
“He’s not the one marrying my daughter today…” she asks, and it’s almost a question as she glances at Noah’s protective grip on my arm.
“No.” Aiden answers. “That would be my other son, Chase.”
She nods. “Harvey told me it was a Reeves but didn’t remember the first name. Just that a pretty blonde came by claiming she was my daughter.”
I chance a glance at Noah, who gives me a small squeeze in response.
“Can I see her?”
“I’ll take you to her tent,” I offer. “I’m Charlie.”
Her eyes are warm with recognition. “Charlotte. Sara’s girl.”
