Page 103 of Reckless
God, I hoped she knew, I was going to take her into the bathroom or a closet if necessary at the reception, and love the holy fire out of her.
The fuzz in my ears clogged my throat as it came time to say the words, but I somehow managed to croak out the “I do” she was waiting for.
Giving his approval, the minister released my restraints, and I took her mouth with mine.
Mine.
She was mine. Till death do us part. Which we both knew could happen a lot sooner than you could ever dream. But we had learned to never take a moment for granted.
As I took the kiss deep, tipping her back, I smiled as someone hooted, but a nervous thread shot through my stomach. In the spirit of retiring from the band and becoming a songwriter, I’d written her a song as a surprise for her at the reception. We would ride there in the limo next, to the barn on the farm—our farm—that had taken every spare moment of my time to get ready to hold a wedding reception. Wouldn’t the paparazzi be irate when they had to stop at the turn in, especially since the reception was on private property?
There, I would sing her the first song I’d written in my new profession. It was a song about love and the future. And pain. Going on. Living to the fullest.
I wanted her to know that even though we’d had some rough times, I would be there for her from now on. For her and our unborn child.
Forever.
Kelly
Baa-meh!
The black and white baby goat called from the goat pen, and as I carried one-year-old Elisabeth from the house to where the ceremony would be—in the barn, where Gage and I’d held our wedding reception over a year and a half ago. Since Gage and I had lost too many people between us to name her after anyone, we’d chosen the name Elisabeth because it carried the first initial of each family member—Babs, Hank, and Stephen.
Elisabeth held out her hand and squealed.
The little goat answered.Baaa-meh!
They went back and forth like that as I surveyed the flowers decorating the entrance, making sure everything was in place. Finally, my arm was about to break as Elisabeth leaned over as far as she could, both arms outstretched. She loved the goats just as much as her mom.
“Okay, okay. Let’s go see him, but only for a minute.” I carried her to the fence where the baby goat immediately stuck his head all the way through. You would think he wanted food, a snack, but no, he wanted Elisabeth to give him some attention.
She hadn’t quite learned the art of petting a goat yet, and slapped the top of his head, yanking out a few hairs here and there, but the little goat loved anything he could get. His big brown eyes were full of nothing but love. He looked like he had little hope of growing into his name, King.
His mother came up by his side and eyed me with the same look she’d been giving me since I gave birth to Elisabeth, like I was some kind of traitor. Jealous. Who would’ve thought? She was the tiny goat that’d made my heart melt that day with Gage at the Amish farm when the photographer ambushed us in the parking lot. She’d been one of Gage’s wedding gifts to me, along with this farm and the beautiful daughter he always had time for. I’d named her Huntswoman, for the huntsman in Snow White, not only because I was out of female names but because it was about time the role was updated.
Elisabeth grabbed the baby goat’s ear.
“Don’t pull,” I said as she almost yanked herself out of my arms holding on to the goat. “You have to be gentle with these goats, but also keep an eye on them. They’re our special babies, but they’re also mischievous. I had to tackle King’s mama at our wedding to keep her from eating all the presents.”
“And I had to sweep in like a superhero and save your mommy before she ended up naked because that nasty goat was nibbling on her dress.” Gage made a chomp-chomping sound, opening and closing his fingers like they were a goat’s mouth, and Elisabeth laughed in delight.
“My goats aren’t nasty!” I said but couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
The goats had been the beginning of what had long been a dream of mine, one that grew out of Gage’s dream of owning a farm.
I was finally writing books. Children’s books about the goats who provided the milk for the goat cheese we were making that was part of what was turning out to be a successful farm. The books followed Maa-Maa the goat and her adventures—starring Huntswoman aka Maa-Maa, former resident of Amish farm life. Thanks to Gage, there was goat cheese to nibble on while reading the books to my daughter, and either were a great selling point for the other. Both dreams were going well, though Gage had his doubts about animals who could escape like Houdini in the night, and when they did, were capable of rendering his truck undrivable by morning.
“Kelly! Kelly, give me that baby,” Millie said, trudging across the lot from the house. “We need her, your mom is having a bit of a case of the nerves and wants her grandbaby.”
“Oh, I can go.”
Gage’s hands shot out and scooped Elisabeth from my arms, giving me a look I knew so well that it made my panties go damp.
“It’s getting near time,” I muttered to Millie, knowing I wouldn’t care how late I was even for my own mother’s wedding once Gage had me alone, his hands on me.
“We have a few minutes.” Gage plopped Elisabeth into Millie’s welcoming hands, and my friend cooed over the baby as she babbled. He growled into my ear so only I could hear, “Now I have you where I want you.”
Millie carried Elisabeth to the house, and I turned my full attention on my husband. “That’s a great line. Original. Gonna use it in a song?”
