Page 78 of Ropers Can't Tie Knots
“I’ll always be here for whatever you need. Always. That’s what friends are for, and I know I can count on you just as much.”
He pulls me into a hug, and we stay there for a moment, Jackson lending me the quiet strength he always carries.
“I can’t believe I’m getting married by choice,” I say with a laugh when we separate. “I keep thinking this is all a dream.”
A good dream, though. It’s definitely not any sort of nightmare. It’s just surreal.
“Love does that. It makes reality a little more bearable that way sometimes.” He pats his jacket pocket, and relief washes over him. “I thought I forgot the ring.” His eyes widen. “Shit. I forgot the corsages. Be right back.”
He rushes back into the ranch house, and I watch the caterers putting the finishing touches on their setup inside the large barn. Gabe and Riley’s idea to rent a makeshift dance floor and have the reception here immediately after the ceremony was one I instantly loved.
Our training arena for the rodeo clinics, a building that normally has bucking bulls, horses, and men swearing when they hit the ground, has now transformed into an intimate space suitable for a celebration of love.
With a hot dog buffet. Can’t forget that.
A part of me cheers, imagining my grandfather in a rage at our wedding here, but I think it’s the perfect way to claim my space. People love me, and I’ll do my best every day going forward to remember that.
“Riley would have my head if I forgot this,” Jackson says. He opens the container with our corsages. Teal again, the one thing from our original wedding that we were okay to keep. As Gabe said, his favourite colour would always be teal. Jackson pins it to my lapel, and I do his like Riley showed me, just as the first guests arrive.
Not like we have a large guest list, but when Margie steps out of the minivan dressed like the mother of the groom, I need to take a minute and breathe before greeting her.
“Margie…”
“Don’t you dare make me cry before the wedding and photos, young man.” Her voice hitches, and I hug her.
“Okay. I won’t say anything until after, but if the man asks who gives me away, you better raise your hand.” The gravel crunches next to us, and one of the young men currently staying with her extends a hand.
“Hi. I’m John. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” I shake his hand and nod towards Margie. “Take care of her today. You take the front row. Your name is on a chair.”
A few more cars arrive and follow the signs to the parking area. Jackson directs guests to the chairs under the tent while I greet the two men I don’t recognize.
“Hi! Riley told us to just come ahead.” He offers a hand in greeting. “I’m Charles, and I’ll be performing your ceremony today.”
“Thank you for coming on such short notice. We’re super appreciative.”
His smile is charming, and I immediately love how at ease he is.
“I’ve always wanted to see the Rocky Mountains, so it’s perfect.” He motions to the very imposing man next to him. “This is my husband, Dave.”
“Nice to meet you. This is a great place,” he says as he looks around. The man is a giant, and Charles rattles on about the ceremony while I watch the guy take a cookie from his pocket and eat it while he listens as well.
“I spoke to Gabe. He’s so charming. He said you both had your own vows, and Riley said no religious readings, so I’m all set to get you hitched. If you don’t have any questions for me, I’ll go wait at the front.”
“I’m good. Wander around if you’d like. The horses are friendly.”
Things get a little crazy after that. Cars arrive and people are flowing in, taking seats, and while we only invited fifty people, it feels like there are five hundred here. Jackson keeps directing guests, andfinally, Gabe’s Lexus pulls into his usual parking place.
He doesn’t get out right away, and the longer he takes, the more I sweat. If this was a dream, this would be the part where I wake up.
My heart beats triple time when he finally steps out and the breath whooshes from my lungs as I close the distance to greet him.
“Counsellor, you are a sight.” My voice sounds like I’m chewing gravel, but I don’t fucking care.
Gone are the suits from the first wedding. Both of us chose well-fit jeans and boots, with fancy sport coats and pressed shirts. He’s fit so well into the country life, he didn’t want to force me into something uncomfortable like last time. Gabe barely wears his suits to work anymore, either, and he says he doesn’t miss it. Although sometimes I do, because it’s hot to dirty him up when he’s all put together with a tie and jacket.
“So are you,” he breathes. I’m not waiting to kiss him, and I grab the back of his neck, pressing my lips to his.
