Page 47 of Lost Trust

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then Matty appears at the end of the gravel path.

She’s wearing a green dress, the soft fabric falling into a full skirt that moves with every step. Cowboy boots peek out beneath the hem. She smiles as she steps onto the carpeted aisle and walks toward us, and I catch myself grinning.

Shelby follows.

Then Harleigh.

Then Elise, Charli’s friend.

All four look beautiful, their dresses almost glowing in the warm evening light. The color fits the setting perfectly—the ranch, the fading sun, the wooden fences and open fields stretching behind us.

But Bryce barely notices them.

His eyes keep drifting toward the end of the path, searching for her.

The guitarist lets the final notes of the bridesmaids’ song fade. Then he starts playing a different song. One everyone recognizes.

The crowd turns toward the back of the arena, and one by one, everyone rises to their feet.

Charli is on the back of her horse, seated sidesaddle.

Albert walks in front of the horse, one hand wrapped around the lead, guiding them toward us.

And damn.

She is beautiful.

She’s wearing the most incredible lace wedding dress. The fitted bodice gives way to a long, flowing skirt, intricate lace covering nearly every inch. The sleeves drape off her shoulders and fall dramatically toward the ground, moving with the breeze.

Her long brown hair is in soft waves, framing her face, beneath the cowboy hat with an attached veil trailing behind her as the horse slowly makes its way down the path.

It’s Aunt Miriam’s veil and the one piece of her mother she can carry with her into this new chapter of her life.

I glance at Bryce.

He’s completely still. His eyes are locked on Charli, and I watch his face change as she gets closer.

He’s tearing up.

“Geezus,” Axle whispers beside me.

The whole arena is silent, except for the guitarist and the soft sound of the horse’s hooves against the ground.

Bryce wipes quickly beneath one eye.

I snort. “Don’t let her see you crying,” I whisper.

He doesn’t even look at me. “Shut up.”

I laugh quietly. “Just saying, she’ll never let you live that shit down.”

His eyes never leave her.

When they reach the front, Albert stops the horse, reaches up, and takes hold of the reins, murmuring something to Charli that I can’t hear.

Then he helps her down. Her dress spills around her boots as she lands, the long train falling behind her, veil drifting over her shoulder, and she clutches a large bouquet of wildflowers.