“Aunt Sarah and Maude will be thrilled.” She swung the front door open and stepped into the house.
“Congratulations!” The shout came from everywhere at once, a multitude of voices crashing over her and rocking her back into Chase.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, his laughter warm in her ear. “I think you’re right. They look very happy.”
“How did they know?” She laughed at her own question. “Never mind.”
The living room full of people raised glasses toward them. Whistles and cheers roared until it was a wonder the glass windows didn’t shatter. A white banner with riffled edges spelled out hers and Chase’s names, a giant heart between them. Other decorations stretched on either side in a series of yellow and gold. Gold rings hung from gold ribbons, and images of wedding cakes sprinkled the tablecloths.
Maude and Aunt Sarah cut around the crowd and waved them deeper into the room.
“Let me see.” Aunt Sarah took her hand and brought the ring up to eye level. “It’s beautiful, Chase.” She hugged Michelle, patted her cheeks, and beamed a brilliant smile. “Congratulations, honey.”
“Thank you.” She returned the embrace, then moved to Maude for a second hug. “How did you pull this off? I was just here.”
She’d stopped by the house before they rode off. Nothing had been out of place or out of the ordinary.
“Everyone was on their way. They waited until you rode out of sight, then we scrambled like a bunch of hooligans to get everything set up.” Maude’s no-nonsense approach to life hid a wild ability to pull this off. “We knew you’d say yes. It’s been obvious for months.”
“Since right after I came home.” This place had always been home. Not just Blue River, but the ranch. She left each night and returned to the bed and breakfast. Yvonne had given her a deal on a monthly rental rate, and she’d started a job at the museum to earn enough to cover her expenses. Life was, in a word, perfect. Nearly perfect.
One last thing would tip it right over the edge into becoming what she’d always wanted.
Marriage to Chase.
She ran her thumb over the edge of the ring, the solid feel of it bringing joy and peace.
Maude ushered them to the table where an array of food waited. “It’s not much, but we wanted you both to know how happy we are for you.”
“You didn’t have to go through the trouble.” Michelle picked up a plate and stacked a sandwich and chips onto it. “But I’m glad you did. I’m starving.”
“So.” Aunt Sarah edged her way behind the table and scooped carrots and dressing onto the edge of her plate. “How long to we have to plan?”
“Told you.” Chase pointed a celery stick at Michelle. Laughter tinged the air.
“Late fall.” They’d considered Christmas, but she wanted to be able to enjoy the weather and an outdoor wedding at the ranch. “Here.” She motioned toward the windows that overlooked the yard.
“On horseback?” Aunt Sarah raised both eyebrows. “That would be pretty.”
“I think we’ll hold off on that for now.” The wedding dress she hoped to wear wasn’t exactly horseback riding friendly. The puffy skirt would not only be a problem, but there was no way—even if they washed the horses right before—that the dress would stay clean if she rode in it. “I want you as my matron of honor.” Michelle caught the sudden inhale from Aunt Sarah, who slapped a hand to her throat.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Michelle rounded the table. “Of course, I’m sure. You’re the closest thing I have to a mother now.” Pressure built in her chest. “I need you with me.”
“I’m happy to be there.” Aunt Sarah dabbed her eyes on her sleeve. “Now let’s talk about something else before you make me cry all over the food.”
“But that’s the whole point of the party.” Maude handed out plates to the cowboys lining up behind Chase.
Aunt Sarah sniffed. “The whole point is to make me cry?”
“No.” Maude dragged out the word with an exaggerated huff.
Sarah waved her off with a grin. “I’m messing with you, Maude. Don’t take it all so seriously.”
“I would never.” The two of them devolved into a good, old-fashioned run of friendly banter.
Michelle moved away, Chase joining her in front of the windows.
