Page 48 of Lost Trust

Albert straightens her for a second, making sure she’s steady, then offers her his arm. Charli takes it, and together, they head toward Bryce, who’s desperately trying to hold himself together but is failing miserably.

His eyes are wet, his lips pressed into a tight line, and when Charli looks up at him from the end of the aisle, he finally gives up trying to hide it.

A tear slips down his cheek.

Charli smiles even wider.

Albert walks her the rest of the way, and I swear Bryce is looking at her like she’s the answer to every prayer he never knew he had. Like this moment is everything. Like she’s everything.

When they reach us, Albert stops in front of Bryce, and for a second, father and groom lock eyes, and something unspoken passes between them. Then Albert places Charli’s hand in Bryce’s.

The second their fingers touch, Bryce closes his hand around hers.

Charli looks up at him. “You look handsome, cowboy,” she whispers.

“So do you.”

She glances down at herself, then back up at him.

“I mean, you look beautiful.”

She laughs softly.

Albert kisses his daughter’s cheek before stepping aside.

The preacher smiles and steps forward.

I glance around at the people standing beneath the Wyoming sky—the family, friends, and colleagues. And I realize there couldn’t be a more perfect way for these two to begin their marriage.

Not in some fancy ballroom.

Here.

On the ranch.

With her daddy walking her down a gravel path on horseback. Wearing her mother’s veil. And Bryce standing at the end of it all, crying like a damn fool.

The preacher clears his throat. “Shall we begin?”

I glance out over the crowd as everyone begins to sit back down, and that’s when I see her.

She’s standing several rows back, among the guests, and the sight of her takes my breath away.

She’s wearing a long, flowing sage-green dress that moves gently around her legs, with the pleated fabric cascading in layers almost to the ground. The fitted bodice gathers softly at her waist. The delicate necklaces resting against her chest catch small flashes of light.

Her dark hair is long and glossy, spilling over her shoulders in loose, effortless waves.

And then she looks up.

Green eyes.

They spot mine among the crowd, and my heart gives a hard kick to my ribs.

She holds my gaze for a beat, and then the smallest smile touches her lips.

Not a stranger’s smile, but a familiar, secret one.

My chest tightens.