Page 77 of His Eighth Ride

“You need a card for it?” Keith teased, and Cord found himself laughing with most of the other cowboys. Everyone who worked for Blackhorse Bay had come to this wedding, which meant a lot of cowboys and their dates.

Lindsay only smiled at him, and then she glanced at her card. “I want to face all of my challenges with you by my side, Mister Whettstein. I want us to be able to speak with honesty to each other, and I want to build a sanctuary away from the world with you.”

She lowered the card. “I know it might not be easy, but I believe that with God guiding us, we can do it. I’m so glad you brought that horse to me last year, and I know God orchestrated that storm to keep you with me long enough to make you think you couldn’t live without me.”

“I can’t,” he whispered, and a few people went, “Aww.”

Cord did it internally, because his dang emotions threatened to choke him again.

“I don’t have a card prepared,” Keith said. “I didn’t know I needed to say anything.”

“You don’t.” Lindsay handed the card back to Derrick without looking at him, and she took both of Keith’s hands in hers. “I just wanted to say that.”

He searched her face, the silence becoming strained. Cord started praying mighty hard that Keith would know what to do and say in this moment. It was the man’s wedding day, after all, and he didn’t particularly like being in the spotlight either.

“I’ll just say this,” Keith said. “I left the job I had before I came to Blackhorse Bay, because God told me I should. I fought Him real hard on it, too. Just ask my daddy.” He grinned over to his father, then quickly sobered. “I wanted a chance to meet more people—and that really meant women.”

Lindsay giggled and ducked her head.

“I wasn’t having much luck there either,” Keith said. “But I put my head down, and I worked. I kept praying. I didn’t give up on God—and you know what? He didn’t give up on me, even when I thought He had. I’ve learned since then that God doesn’t give up on us at all, not a single one of us. You needed me that night, and I needed you in my life permanently.”

He drew in a breath big enough to lift his shoulders and expand his chest. “I love you with all I have, and as I grow and change and mature, I’m sure how much I love you will too—and I can’t wait for it.”

Keith nodded like that was that, and both he and Lindsay turned to face the pastor. He said all the right words in the right place, ending with, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Cowboys started hooting and hollering before Keith could even face Lindsay again. Cord brought his hands together as Travis whistled through his teeth. Keith pulled Lindsay to him and kissed her, and then they faced the crowd.

“Everyone kiss the one you love!” Keith yelled, and Cord wasn’t going to second-guess that.

He pulled Jane into his chest, met her eye, and said in a voice that might’ve been considered growly to those who didn’t know him, “I love you, Jane Behr.”

“I love you too, Cord,” she said back, just as seriously.

And then he kissed her. After all, he’d been told to, and Cord tried to follow all the rules at any wedding he attended. Fine, all the rules all the time, in anything—and kissing Jane still brought a roar of fire with it that reminded Cord just how much he loved his wife.

twenty-four

Opal leaned in to see her father’s spreadsheet more clearly. “I think I see what you mean, Daddy,” she said when she spotted the numbers he’d put together for her. Sighing, she leaned back. “It’s a lot to get started.”

“It always is,” he said. “But once you have things going, it won’t be that bad.” He took the spreadsheet away and smiled at her over the video call. “You’ll be able to apply for grants for salaries, supplies, all of it. They usually want some statements, that kind of thing. But we can turn in these projections, and some companies take those.”

The idea of having to hunt down grants and go through the application process made Opal feel like she’d just worked a sixteen-hour shift in the emergency room. “I don’t know, Daddy.”

“What don’t you know, sugar?”

“This feels like a lot of work.” She looked away from the computer, from the camera, from her father, who’d always guided her so effortlessly. Who had such a good business mind that thought in ways Opal’s didn’t.

Give her a broken bone or someone complaining of shortness of breath, and Opal knew what to do. She at least knew what questions to ask. Business…it just felt different, and Opal didn’t know how to navigate the terrain.

“You can hire a foundation manager,” Daddy said. “And a grant writer. That’ll be all that person does—research grants, apply for them, manage the status, follow-up. All of it.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Opal said, seeing another line for payroll inside the foundation. “And then I—what? Sit back and oversee?”

“Yes,” Daddy said simply. “Being the CEO isn’t about doing everything. It’s about knowing what needs to be done and getting the best person or department to do that thing.”

“So it’s a lot of management.”

“It’s a lot of management,” Daddy agreed. “You managed the ER, sugar. You knew which doctors were where, with which patients, and who needed what. This is going to be exactly like that, but in a non-emergent situation.”

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