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one spot. The guitarist strummed the first chords of the wedding march, prompting everyone to stand and look expectantly toward the front porch.

      There, beneath swags of roses and hibiscus, the bride smiled up at the father she hadn’t even known a year ago. As they made their way toward the flower-draped arbor, Ridge tapped Matt’s shoulder and leaned in to say something. Whatever it was made her brother grin like an idiot, and Marianne sent up a desperate plea for divine intervention in getting them to behave themselves for just ten more minutes. Since Matt was the oldest Sawyer, she’d never had much luck being a mother hen to him in the past. Still, miracles happened every day.

      Like the one that had brought Matt and Caty together in the first place.

      In the past year, they’d navigated a long, rough road. Now they stood in the same spot where her parents, Ethan and Jan Sawyer, were married thirty-five years ago. The couple repeated their vows back to Pastor Charles in clear, confident voices. Despite their obvious differences, Marianne believed with all her heart that they really were meant for each other.

      She wished their parents had lived long enough to see Matt so happy.

      A warm breeze rustled through the roses climbing over the archway, releasing the sweet scent of the pink-and-white blossoms to mix with the hyacinth and jasmine in the garden surrounding them. Fifty-three guests were there, smiling and snapping pictures from every angle. Today really was perfect, she thought with a smile. She couldn’t have asked for anything more.

      When Matt turned to Ridge for Caty’s ring, Marianne’s sunny mood took a sudden dive. The best man’s crazy—and unexpected—arrival had put her more on edge than she needed to be. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, now she’d have a stranger wandering around the farm for the next two weeks until he headed back to Colorado. She’d get Matt for that one, she promised herself.

      After less than a minute with Ridge, she’d pegged him as disorganized and cocky. Although she had to admit the phone call to his mom had netted him some points. A grown man who so obviously loved his mother couldn’t be all bad.

      And no woman with a pulse could help noticing that his tall, solid frame looked as good in his crisp gray suit as it had in jeans and a leather bomber jacket. Or that his hazel eyes had little flecks of gold in them that sparkled in the sunlight.

      Unfortunately, Peter Weston had taught her that looks could be crushingly deceiving. And despite all of Ridge’s good points, Marianne couldn’t get past the aggravation he’d already caused her. Coming in late with a crazy flying display that nearly gave her a heart attack was just the start. Then there was the mock RSVP that caused her to waste money on a catered meal for his plane. No doubt about it, Marianne decided as the ceremony wound down.

      Ridge Collins was walking trouble.

      While Matt and Caty sealed their vows with a long kiss, everyone stood to applaud and cheer. Caty turned, and Marianne dutifully handed over her bouquet of pink-and-white roses.

      “We’ve been friends forever, and now we’re sisters!” Caty exclaimed, embracing first Marianne and then Lisa. “How cool is that?”

      “Very cool,” Lisa agreed as the two of them exchanged a very unladylike high five.

      “Excuse me.” Matt stepped in and tapped his new bride on the shoulder.

      When he motioned down the aisle, she laughed and took his arm to make their ceremonial first walk as man and wife. After they rounded the corner of the house, he swept her up in a hug, giving her a kiss that seemed to go on forever.

      When she realized she was spying on them, Marianne turned away to give them some privacy.

      And straight into the best man.

      Ridge offered her his arm. Still agitated by her conflicting impressions of him, she quickly invented an excuse for not taking it. “The kids are saving you a seat, so go ahead and sit down. I’ll join you after I see if the caterers need anything.”

      “Sure. Let me know if I can help.”

      People were settling in for their meal, and she watched the new Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer make their way through the garden, stopping at each table to talk with their guests. Tears stung her eyes, and she took a deep breath to calm her churning emotions. She was happy for them. Thrilled, actually. She wouldn’t let her baffling reaction to the best man or memories of her own failed marriage ruin this day for two people she loved so much.

      She’d had her chance, and it hadn’t worked out. That didn’t mean Matt and Caty were destined for heartache.

      Please, God, she prayed silently. Bless them with a long, happy life together.

      * * *

      Late that afternoon, Matt and Caty said goodbye to their last wedding guest. Marianne expected them to be as exhausted as she was, but they seemed to have caught a second wind. After hugs and thank-you’s for everyone, they climbed into Matt’s enormous blue pickup. Streamers and cans flying along behind them, they drove around the circular drive, waving out the windows before heading toward the main road in a cloud of dust.

      The silence they left behind was deafening.

      The family just stood there, watching the truck go down the highway until it disappeared over a hill. For fifteen years, they’d waited and prayed for Matt to come back from wherever his wanderlust had taken him. Their father’s unexpected death had finally brought him home, and Caty’s love had kept him there.

      But now he was gone. Oh, he’d still be in Harland, but he’d be living with Caty in their new house. The family would see him while he was working at the farm, maybe for a meal now and then. But his heart belonged to Caty, and he wanted to be with her—should be with her. The rest of them would have to adjust, but Marianne knew it wouldn’t be easy.

      “They’ll be back,” she said out loud, as much to herself as to anyone else. “Two weeks isn’t that long.”

      “It’s forever,” Emily moaned, her chin trembling while she stared down at her wilting bouquet.

      Marianne swept her up for a comforting embrace. “They’ll be back before you know it. Everything will be just fine.”

      “You’re set if I go, right?” Lisa asked. “I’m beat.”

      “The servers are handling the cleanup,” Marianne replied, giving her a quick hug. “Thanks for all your help.”

      “No problem. Ridge, it was nice to meet you.” Shaking his hand, she added her usual dazzling smile. “If you get hungry, I work at Ruthy’s Place on Main Street. We’ll fix you up with some honest-to-goodness home cooking.”

      “Do I look like I need it?” he asked.

      “Every man does,” she retorted.

      “Ruthy, as in Ruth Benton, the amazing chef who catered the wedding?”

      “The very same. You come in, I’ll set you up.” Flashing him another smile, she sauntered over to her car and gracefully slid into the driver’s seat.

      After her sister’s flirtatious exit, Marianne snuck a look at Ridge, fully expecting to find him watching Lisa go. Pretty and carefree, Lisa was a starry-eyed dreamer who adored people, men especially. Males of all ages were drawn to her sunny personality. They just couldn’t help it.

      Not this one, though. To Marianne’s amazement, he was engrossed in a discussion with Kyle about the faulty motor on his remote control helicopter. Something about servos was all she understood.

      “I’m done, too,” John announced, stooping to kiss Marianne’s cheek. “You sure do throw a great wedding.”

      As he strolled down the lane toward the converted carriage house he lived in, she shook her head. A ratty pair of sneakers had replaced his good shoes, and he’d shed his jacket and tie sometime during the day.

      Because their mother had died when he was only five, Marianne had mothered him since childhood, and he still

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