The Bride Wore Denim Read Free

skin and slightly chilled from the breeze, despite it being August.
    “Thank you,” she said, as her adrenaline drained away and took her energy with it. “I’m sorry you got caught up in the rodeo.”
    “Don’t be. The company inside was . . . frankly, not this much fun.”
    “I never asked why you came out here in the first place.”
    He gave a quick frown, an attractive wrinkle forming between his brows. He’d changed over the past decade. All signs of the cute-faced boy and young man he’d been had disappeared beneath the angles and planes of a stunning adult-male face.
    “Oh yeah, I guess I did have an official mission,” he said. “Joely got back from the barn fifteen minutes ago, and we wondered where you ended up. Your grandmother has called an all-hands meeting.”
    “Grandma Sadie?” She shouldn’t have been surprised. Sadie Crockett had to be the only nonagenarian who could still command her family like a naval admiral. “What’s our matriarch got under her bonnet now? Another private prayer meeting? A final eulogy? Can’t be about the will; that isn’t a secret.”
    “I don’t know,” Cole said. “The only thing she told me was that attendance isn’t optional.”
    “Crazy old lady,” Harper said fondly, feeling the mood start to slide.
    Grandma Sadie wasn’t even a little crazy. She was still sharp as a pinprick, and if she wanted a meeting, she had all the moral authority in the world. At ninety-four she had buried a son.
    As Harper and her sisters had buried a father.
    As their mother had buried a husband.
    And not one of them understood how Samuel Crockett could be dead. In the space of a finger snap, the hurricane that had been his big, intense life had gone aground and dissipated long before any expert had predicted or expected.
    She tried to cling to the silliness of the chicken chase, but it was fully gone. A tear escaped, and she swiped it away before it could traverse her cheek. They’d all cried plenty in the past days. Wasn’t that enough of a tribute to the man who’d inspired awe, respect, sometimes even adulation, but never warm, schmaltzy emotion?
    Cole’s arm came around her, and he pulled her close. She felt his kiss on the top of her head.
    “Look.” He pointed across the yard, past the working heart of Paradise Ranch with its barns, sheds, and cattle pens, to the view of Grand Teton National Park sixty-five miles away. In the deep purple sky over the mountains, one fat sunbeam had beaten back the rain clouds to create a brilliant rainbow. “I think that came out for you,” he said. “You’ve always known how to pull hope out of a rain cloud.”
    How did he know to say something that would soothe her so perfectly?
    “If only my father had shown me a fraction of that kind of insight. After all these years—that was really nice of you to say.”
    “You weren’t big on letting us see your work when we were younger, but I still caught wisps of your talent. We all did. I know you still have it.”
    She wanted to tell him then. She’d promised herself not to say anything to anyone about her news until after the funeral. This was not about her and her dreams—this was about her father and the end of his. She stared at the sky and, in her mind, mixed the oil colors that would approximate its vivid beauty on canvas.
    Her fingers itched for her brushes. Her head and heart longed for a secluded room and an easel. But she hadn’t brought any supplies with her from Chicago. She’d contented herself with a sketchbook and case of pencils. This trip was not about escape, and a good daughter wouldn’t keep wishing for it. Then again, when had she ever been the good daughter?
    The rainbow intensified. Cole held her more tightly. The rain slowed further, and after a few more moments, she realized it had stopped altogether.
    “I guess we should go in. I volunteered to find Joely for purely selfish reasons—I wanted to get away.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with