Page 56 of Saddle Storm

The cheers grow as we watch Dallas make his way toward us, his dark cowboy hat in place, shoulders squared, jaw tight. His expression mostly blank, but I detect a hint of nerves. He turns to face the guests, adjusting his cuffs for the third time. We exchange a grin. Me because it’s not often I get to see him all worked up. And him—well probably because I’m still a joke to him.

Okay, so maybe that’s not it, but old insecurities die hard.

Rose emerges at the head of the aisle next, carrying a bouquet of pink roses that match her hairstyle.

This time, I look at Wilder, who’s got his blue eyes pinned to his future bride. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.

She takes her place opposite us and hands her bouquet to Wesley, who’s seated in the front row.

Wait a second. I lean over to Wilder. “Is that who I think it is sitting next to Wes?”

“Mmhmm,” he confirms, not glancing in that direction.

“And you’re okay with this?”

He turns his head toward me, voice low. “I’m sleeping with his kid sister—I think I lost the right to tell him who he can and can’t date.”

Dusty Callahan, short for Desdemona, is part owner of Callahan Ranch—our rival. We all knew there was some heated tension there, but this is certainly one for the books.

My gaze drifts back to the aisle—and the air leaves my lungs when I see her.

Bumble Bee.

Her nickname spills silently from my lips. She’s in a yellow dress that comes down to her knees, hugging her chest, then falling wider past the waist. Her boots are brown and embroidered. Her hair in a single braid coming around one shoulder. Her freckled skin glows in the pink-orange sunlight. Simple and stunning.

She’s focused on the ponies like nothing else in the world exists. The two manes have been brushed smooth, tack polished. Winter carries the basket for Ellie, who’s standing beside her in a white dress with green sash. Cupid is fitted with a simple ribbon. I can’t see the rings from here, but assume they’re tucked safe and secure.

She positions Max with the calmer horse bearing the rings and urges him ahead. Ellie is behind them with Winter, who’s making me nervous with the way she keeps stomping off to the side.

Storm positions herself on the other side of Winter, keeping a good grip, and together, they start down the aisle, with Ellie tossing petals like an expert, her bright smile contagious to everyone watching.

I keep my gaze on Storm’s the moment she finds me, even as everyone rises and the music shifts for Willow’s entrance.

Storm tears her eyes off me and we turn toward the bride—who’s almost as beautiful as the woman standing across from me. Her red hair is down in her natural curls around her shoulders. She’s in a knee-length white dress and white boots. Her brown eyes on her husband.

My brother watches her, inhaling slow like he’s breathing her in, even when she’s barely halfway down the aisle.

She finally makes it to the front and their hands connect.

“Did you have to look at me like that? I’m going to ruin my make-up,” I hear her whisper, her eyes glistening.

“Yes. Because if I’m going to lose it up here, I’m taking you down with me.”

She laughs softly and he swipes gently at a loose tear.

The exchange of vows and rings was something out of a fairytale—probably. It all sounded good, but my eyes were on Storm. She was lost in the words. The love in front of her eyes. Something between longing and scrutiny in the way she watched them. More the latter.

And it’s at this moment I make a vow of my own.

To find out who hurt her. Who made her so hard and untrusting that watching it two feet away doesn’t convince her it can be real. It can be forever.

I believe in it. Always have. For my parents. My brothers, hell, even for Dad and Ginger.

It’s why I’m always honest when it comes to my intentions. I’d never lie or lead anyone to believe there’s something more. Life’s too short to waste it with the wrong person.

I don’t know if it’s Max’s father. It very well might be. Or the fact that she hasn’t dated much since. But I refuse to believe I had anything to do with it.

Because that’s not something I’d ever forgive myself for.