“Hey. I just had a crazy idea. Want to get married this weekend?”
She stared at the message for half a beat longer, then tapped Send before she could overthink it.
Then she waited.
The early morning sun spilled across the paddock as Charlie Grace leaned on the fence rail and watched Jewel climb on the school bus at the end of the lane. In the corral, the horses moved lazily, tails swishing at flies, and somewhere behind her, Clancy’s radio played an old country tune through the open window. She gave a wave to Donna Hatfield, the bus drive before climbing down and heading for the house. On the way, her phone buzzed in her jeans back pocket. She pulled it out, shielding the screen from the glare.
“It’s my turn to host this Friday night. Be at my house. Six o’clock sharp.”
A smile curved her lips. Capri was back, all business and no room for excuses.
At the same time, Lila stood at the counter at the clinic, sipping coffee from her travel mug while reviewing the day’s appointments.
The clinic was quiet in that rare, golden window before the day began—no ringing phones, no barking dogs, just the hum of the mini fridge and the distant sound of Whit moving around in the back.
Her phone lit up beside the keyboard. She tapped the screen and read the message. “It’s my turn to host this Friday night. Be at my house. Six o’clock sharp.”
She smiled, setting down the mug. There was nothing she loved more than time with her girlfriends.
Reva stood in front of the community center bulletin board, a fresh stack of flyers in one hand and a roll of painter’s tape in the other. Lucan darted across the hallway, making truck noises with a paper cup.
Her phone buzzed inside her blazer pocket. She fished it out and scanned the incoming text.
“It’s my turn to host this Friday night. Be at my house. Six o’clock sharp.”
Reva arched a brow, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, well,” she murmured to herself, clicking off the phone. “Capri playing hostess and barking orders? Business as usual.”
Tires crunched along the gravel as the three vehicles paraded down Capri’s lane and pulled into her yard. One by one, Lila, Charlie Grace, and Reva stepped out, the crisp mountain air tugging at their jackets as they headed for the porch.
Charlie Grace adjusted the hem of her flannel shirt. “What are the odds there’s anything edible involved?”
Lila laughed. “If Capri ordered takeout, I’ll count it as progress.”
“I brought wine,” Reva added, holding up a bag. “Because even if she did cook, we might need it.”
The front door creaked open, and to their surprise, Annie Cumberland stepped onto the porch, her cheeks pink with excitement. “Ladies,” she called with a twinkle in her eye, “this way, please. To the backyard.”
The trio exchanged puzzled glances, but there was no time to ask questions. Annie was already disappearing around the corner of the house, motioning for them to keep up.
They trailed after her, steps quickening with each stride. But nothing—not the casual text, not the breezy invitation—could’ve prepared them for what they saw when they turned the corner.
They stopped cold.
Charlie Grace actually gasped. “What in the...”
Lila blinked as if she’d walked into the wrong yard. “Is that?—?”
“Oh, my Lord,” Reva breathed. “She’s getting married.”
A simple arch made of twisted willow branches stood near the edge of the garden, its natural curve softened with sprays of golden mums, ivory ranunculus, rust-colored zinnias, and deep burgundy dahlias. Clusters of baby’s breath and seeded eucalyptus were tucked between the blooms, giving it an unstudied elegance—like something you might stumble upon in a fairy tale.
Charlie Grace blinked hard. “No way.”
Lila covered her mouth. “Oh my gosh...”
Reva whispered, “I never suspected this.”
At the base of the arch, Jake stood with his hands folded in front of him. He wore jeans and cowboy boots, a clean button-up under a simple jacket. No tie. No fuss. Just calm, quiet confidence—and eyes searching the path for only one person.
