Page 22 of More than Words Can Say

Zach set Evie away from him and turned to his best friend, only to catch a glimpse of Abigail from the corner of his eye. A very pale Abigail who looked as if someone had just stolen her bakery out from under her.

Zach’s gaze zipped past Reuben to land on the face of his bride, though her attention seemed fixed on Evie, not him. “This is my sister, Evangeline Fowler.”

Abigail blinked a couple times, then finally managed to meet his eyes. Her brows arched in question, even as her expression warmed with an ember of hope. “Your sister?”

“Yep.” Zach jabbed a thumb in the direction of the front door without really looking at the man standing just inside. “And that fella over there’s her husband, Logan.”

Abigail’s attention darted toward the doorway, a hint of dimple finally coming out of hiding.

“Don’t forget me.” Zach’s adopted brother, Seth, pushed past Logan and slipped through the mingling crowd.

“Seth!” Zach grinned and held out his hand even as he scanned his brother with a critical eye for any sign of distress. Seth’s asthma had nearly killed him as a kid. A couple times as an adult too. Thankfully, he seemed healthy enough at present, though Zach couldn’t help but start cataloguing anything in the house that might cause an attack to flare up. Old habits died hard.

Seth gripped Zach’s hand and pulled him in close to slap his back. “Good to see you, Zach.”

“You too. How’s Christie?” Zach asked as they separated.

“Glowing.” Seth grinned, and Zach swore his brother’s chest puffed out an extra inch or two. “Another month, and you’ll be an uncle.”

“Hard to believe.” Zach had gotten a little practice playing uncle with Archie, the baby brother of Seth’s wife, who’d come to live with them before Zach left the homestead in Pecan Gap, but the thought of Seth actually having a kid of his own—well, it made Zach feel like maybe he hadn’t completely screwed up Seth’s and Evie’s futures.

As good as it was to see his family, and as much as he wanted to catch up with them and revel in the reunion, this moment wasn’t just about him. He held out a hand to Abigail. “Seth, Evie . . . Logan,” he added as an afterthought when Evie’s husband came up behind her and placed a possessive hand at her waist. Zach and Logan shared a complicated past, but like it or not, the man was family now. “This is Abigail. My bride.”

Her hand slid into his, and the feel of her skin on his roughened palm sent a surge of possessiveness stabbing through him. He tightened his hold and drew her into the circle of his family. After today, she’d be part of this circle, too.

“Hello,” she said, her voice quiet and a touch shy, making him want to wrap his arm around her and offer shelter.

“I’m delighted to meet you, Abigail.” Evie smiled wide and bright, though her face held a trace of trepidation as well. Usually when people met Evie for the first time, her mismatched eyes spooked them. One dark brown, the other vividly blue. It could be a tad unnerving. Zach would have warned Abigail so she’d be prepared, but he hadn’t expected Evie to show up tonight.

He snuck a peek at Abigail’s face from the corner of his eye. Thankfully he saw no judgment or discomfort. Only a touch of nervousness, which was to be expected when meeting a sister-in-law for the first time.

“Zach has told me a little about how you came to be a family,” Abigail said, her smile bringing those dimples to the party again. “I look forward to getting to know each of you.” She smiled at Seth and Logan in turn, her confidence growing. “Let me introduce you to my sister, Rosalind. Rosie?” Abigail craned her neck around. “Come meet your new family.”

As Rosalind stepped forward to greet the newcomers, Evie poked Zach in the side and whispered, “I like her.”

Zach said nothing, but his chest expanded—much, he imagined, like Seth’s had earlier.

I like her too.

After a quarter hour of introductions and a surplus of chatting that had no end in sight, Zach prodded the minister to get on with things. Brother Samuelson made some quip about an eager groom, eliciting a chuckle from the room and a blush from the bride, but it did the trick. People starting milling into the parlor.

The preacher took his place by the hearth, and Zach moved to stand beside him. He turned to locate Abigail and promptly lost his grip on his jaw. It hung loose from its joists as Zach absorbed the beauty of the woman before him.

She had removed her coat and handed it to her sister, accepting a small bouquet of bright pink flowers from Reuben’s wife and giving Zach his first unobstructed view of her wedding finery. His practical, businesswoman bride looked like a princess from a storybook.

Zach forced his jaw closed and managed a swallow despite the rapidly shrinking collar at his throat. He’d known she was pretty, but this? This woman was fit for a prince, and he—well, he was fit for mucking a prince’s stables.

“Smile, idiot, before you scare her off,” Reuben muttered from somewhere to Zach’s left.

Smile. Yeah, he could do that. Maybe.

Zach’s lips twitched, but the effort must have fallen short, for when Abigail reached his side, she lifted up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “There’s a back door through the kitchen if you want to make a run for it.”

She smiled, and his tension evaporated. He reached out, captured her hand, and fit her palm into the crook of his arm. “No one’s gonna be running anywhere, Miss Kemp.”

He might not be ideal husband material, but his daddy had taught him never to question good fortune. You just snatched it up when it was in front of you and did your best not to lose it in the next hand.

Zach nodded to Brother Samuelson. “We’re ready.”