Page 13 of The Best Man Wins

Venue is NOT changeable. Very important to Dalton family.

Wants to keep farm “elements” to honor history: think, wheelbarrow drinks, hale-bales in photoshoots, etc.

Might need some minor (?) upkeep

Has hayloft = can be used for storage

The location contains a main house (where the Dalton family lives) and a barn (mostly used for storage)

Main house is available for set up and barn is ready for ceremony.

Think: rustic vibes, cowboy and his city-girl runaway. Let’s do this!

7

Susie

As it turns out, Braxton West is the least of my problems.

There is nothing rustic about the Dalton family ranch. Sometimes, old things are priceless antiques. And other times, they’re just really, really old.

This place is in the really old category. And nowhere near wedding-ready.

The two-story farmhouse is made entirely of wood panels with a turquoise paneled roof. There are bits of the house that are nice—the open screened patio addition, the brick chimney, the indigo-blue mountains in the backdrop. Then there are parts of the house that are not-so-nice, like the exploding tufts of spruce bushes, the broken panels, and the “Beware of the Dog” sign. Worse, the ground is barren, dry, and dusty—not a sprout of grass in sight. We might as well host the wedding in the parking lot of a monster truck convention.

“This is our rustic farmhouse?” Thom asks, his expression falling. “Are you sure we didn’t make a wrong turn?”

“I’m sure.”

“This is absurd. We’re wedding planners, not bloody magicians.”

My brain is spinning. Surely there’s a way to make this work.

“Failure is just fate telling you to try harder,” I tell him.

Marlee adjusts her glasses and scrunches her eyebrows. “Or maybe it’s telling you to stop?”

“Quiet,” I hiss. “I think that’s Mama Dalton approaching.”

Two figures walk down the dirt hill from the house toward us, the South Carolina sun momentarily blurring their faces. Ray ambles side by side with his mother, a handsome woman with a long, grey ponytail streaming out behind her Stetson hat. She wears a brown leather hide jacket, heavy boots, and a crooked smile, and she opens the wooden fence for us to pass onto her property.

“Well, come on in! Join the party!” she says. Her warmth lightens my mood, especially when Braxton and Cora catch up and she throws her arm around Cora’s shoulders. “You must be the gal of the hour. Let me take a look at you. Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Dalton,” Cora says. Her voice rises to a nervous pitch as she takes the other woman’s hand and squeezes.

“Oh, please, we’re family now, aren’t we? You call me Roxanne.”

“Braxton,” Braxton introduces himself, swooping an arm over his sister protectively. “I’m Cora’s brother. We brought the wedding planners with us so they can help set up.”

“You all brought the whole gang here!” Roxanne exclaims. “Well, come on, let’s get out of the sun before this little flower starts wilting.”

She’s gesturing to Cora, who does admittedly look quite out of place. Her heels wobble precariously on the uneven dirt, and she tries to smile through it, even as she braces herself on Braxton.

I pull Ray aside while everyone makes their introductions. “Ray.” I smile. “Hi. I don’t mean to interrupt.”

“Not at all, darling,” he says. He looks at ease under the blue sky, his broad smile just a little wider. “What can I do you for?”

“You grew up here, right?”

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