Page 19 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
Juliana nodded slowly. “Okay. Maybe I will.”
Cassie started back down the steps, calling over her shoulder, “Wear something you don’t mind smelling like smoke.”
Juliana smiled faintly and looked back at the page in her journal. She scratched out the last line.
He’s not who I thought he was.
And I’m not sure what that means yet.
And apparently, neither am I.
A few hours later, Juliana followed Cassie past a sign labeled Authorized Personnel Only, around the bend to a clearing behind the small row of houses. String lights crisscrossed between trees, their glow flickering over the faces gathered around a low-burning fire. Laughter floated on the air, along with the hum of conversation and country music playing from a Bluetooth speaker.
“Welcome to Saturday night,” Cassie said over her shoulder. “Gideon’s idea years ago. Said if he was gonna be stuck running group tours all week, he was at least going to make sure someone handed him a hot dog at the end of it.”
Juliana smiled, a little unsure. This wasn’t her usual scene. Dirt. Barefoot children. People with their knees touching as they shared a bench. It smelled like sap and spice and sweat and smoke. Elaine Emerson would be appalled at her daughter’s current company.
A man with kind eyes turned from where he was tending to a tray of foil-wrapped something near the fire pit. He wiped his hands on a towel tucked into his waistband and stepped forwardwith a serious expression. “You must be Juliana,” he said, offering a hand that was still warm from the heat. “I’m Zeke. That’s my wife, Kaitlyn, wrangling the toddler with the sticky fingers.” He wasn’t warm or friendly, but Zeke felt...steady.
Kaitlyn gave a smile, her brown hair pulled into a loose braid. She balanced a toddler on her hip, who squirmed to get down the second Juliana made eye contact. “This is Juniper,” Kaitlyn said. “Apparently, she’s already decided you’re a safe person. Sorry in advance.”
The toddler waddled straight to Juliana’s leg and clung like they’d met before. Juliana blinked, then hesitantly patted the girl’s soft curls, ignoring the way her thoughts had seized on the mention of messy fingers.
“And that one over there, climbing the woodpile he’s definitely not supposed to be on?” Zeke pointed. “That’s our oldest, Stetson.”
A boy with messy blond hair and a look of absolute mischief was halfway up the stack, and gave a sheepish grin when Kaitlyn called his name. “Coming down!” he yelled, leaping from the second tier like a stuntman. He looked to be about ten years old.
Juliana winced at his landing, but Zeke just laughed, the first crack in his pretty serious demeanor. “They bounce at that age.”
Cassie gave her arm a little nudge and led her closer to the fire. Another man stood to greet them, baby on one hip and a juice box in the other hand. “Hey, you must be Juliana,” he said, handing off the juice box to a curly-haired three-year-old who promptly squeezed it too hard and splashed juice all over his shorts. “I’m Jason. Cassie’s husband. The little tornado is Chance, and this sleepy guy is Arlo.”
The baby blinked at Juliana and promptly stuck a thumb in his mouth. She melted at the way his blue eyes stared her down.
“You have beautiful kids,” she said softly.
“Thanks,” Cassie said, settling beside Jason with a fond glance at their chaos. “We try not to lose more than one at a time.”
Laughter rippled again around the fire, but Juliana stood a little straighter, absorbing it all. The tangled limbs, the barking dog in the distance, the slightly burned marshmallow smoke curling into the night air. She felt like she’d stepped into someone else’s life. One with dirt and stickiness and rough edges and, inexplicably, it made something quiet ache in her chest.
And then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Gideon appeared—clean now, hair damp and curling at the edges of his forehead. He was already smiling when he caught her eye.
“Hey, Jules. There’s a seat over here,” he said, gesturing to the log beside him.
Juliana hesitated. Then she stepped forward, brushing Juniper’s sticky hand from her skirt and lowering herself to the seat. “Don’t call me Jules,” she whispered.
For a moment, no one asked her any more questions. No one pressed. They just handed her a s’more, scooted over to make room, and let her soak it in.
Next to them on another bench, Cassie nudged a marshmallow stick into Zeke’s hand before turning toward Gideon. “Mom’s already bringing up the Christmas barn dance,” she said with a groan. “Says it’s never too early to start planning. But I told her there’s no way I can help this year. Not with my work schedule and the boys.”
Zeke chuckled, settling back with his arms crossed. “Didn’t she rope you into baking two hundred cookies last year?”
“Two hundred and forty,” Cassie said. “She had a spreadsheet.”
Gideon smirked, and Juliana felt his eyes flick toward her. “That’s how you know she’s serious.”
“She needs help,” Cassie said pointedly, glancing between the two of them. “And neither of you better look at me when she starts assigning committee roles.”
Juliana listened without commenting, her gaze jumping from one sibling to the other.
