Page 51 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late

Dawson would exit the barn last. Not quite—Caroline would come after him, but her daddy was spying to make sure that Dawson was all the way out of the barn and walking toward the aisle before she would come in.

“All right,” Duke said, waving his arms above his head and employing his loud voice. “All right, everyone, we’re about to get started. Everyone get in line. Please, get in line.”

Dawson swallowed. He tugged on the ends of his jacket sleeves, putting them right in place. His tie still choked him, but he didn’t reach to adjust it. He said, “Ruffin, right here,” and the dog stayed right by him.

Duke turned and opened the double-wide barn doors, and all the energy of the guests came in from outside. It flooded the barn, nearly knocking Dawson back. The love and support of the people who’d come to see him get married was incredible to him. He’d always thought of himself as a small piece, a tiny little cog that no one ever really noticed, both here on the ranch and in the greater community of Three Rivers.

Sure, he showed up and helped when there were disasters, when houses needed to be fixed, when food needed to be brought in, when extra hands, extra shovels, and extra smiles were needed. Dawson always showed up, but he’d never really thought anyone noticed or, frankly, cared.

Of course, he had friends in Lincoln and Misty, Alex and Nikki, Finn and Edith, Mitch Glover, and Henry Marshall. Combined with his family, they made up his wedding party. Caroline hadn’t asked anyone from work, claiming she wasn’t that good of friends with them, and instead, had only her family walking in the wedding party. They started to move out, all ofthem pairing up or grouping up and walking down the aisle together.

Belle went last after she bent down and said something to Judy. Judy turned and looked at Dawson, and he held up the five fingers that they’d agreed on, then four, then three, then two, then one. When he dropped his hand, Judy turned and took the first step out of the barn. To his great relief, the hens followed. Their warbling went with them, their small clucks, their little guttural noises, their heads bobbing. Oh, how Dawson loved them.

“It’s our turn next, Ruffin,” he said, but he wanted to give Brandon a chance to get the crows there. Carolinereallywanted the crows, and Dawsonreallywanted Caroline to be happy.

So he moved through the barn until he stood at the double-door entrance, and he looked at all of the people who had come to the wedding. They smiled at Judy. They pointed. People snapped pictures.

Then they looked to him. He put a smile on his face. The love and gratitude, brotherhood, and camaraderie he felt for everyone there overwhelmed him. He sure was glad that Duke had told him to pay attention, to be present, to enjoy this day. This was hiswedding day, after all, and he aimed to only have one of those.

Down at the altar, which had been a saddle horse that he had upholstered and then Caroline had pinned flowers to, the pastor waited. All of the chairs had flowers pinned to the white clothes covering them, and flowers hung from the tent poles as well.

Dawson suddenly understood why Caroline wanted to get married outside so badly. It was so much better than an indoor wedding with the fresh air, the green pasture, and all of the blooms that really represented Caroline. The ranch itself represented Dawson, and bringing them together like thisformed a union between the two of them that was as physical as it was mental, emotional, and spiritual.

He found his parents down in the first row on the left, Caroline’s mama on the right. As he watched, Brandon came in from the back of the tent, holding a string of silver beads in his hand. Both Nugget and Rocks flew in and landed on the altar. Rocks wanted the beads, of course, and Brandon let him take them. Nugget just wanted everyone to know that she was there, so she cawed, and several people cried out in surprise. Dawson laughed.

His crows had come. Caroline would be so happy.

With the birds in place, he stepped down the aisle, Ruffin right at his side. With every move he made, he felt sure he would disintegrate into ashes or dust or the ground would disappear beneath his feet. He almost felt like he existed outside of his body. But he kept going, kept walking, and he arrived at the altar, where he hugged his momma and daddy again, reached out and patted his crows, bent down and touched the top of Ruffin’s head, and then looked back down the aisle.

Caroline stood there now, and Dawson pulled in a tight breath. Tears came instantly to his eyes. She had come.

Of course, he hadn’t expected her not to be there, but it was still awe-inspiring and breathtaking to see her standing there. Her dress, as white as it was, also bore blooms in as many colors as Dawson’s eyes could comprehend. They seemed to be sewn under the lace, so the colors were muted, pastel, soft, and beautiful—the exact epitome of Caroline herself.

She clung to her daddy’s arm. She’d curled and clipped up her hair. Her eyes met Dawson’s. She smiled, sparkled from her inner beauty, and she too took step by step until she reached her family. She hugged her mom and all of her sisters, and then she turned to Dawson and took his arm.

Just like that. A movement so simple and yet so meaningful it stole his breath all over again.

“This is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen,” he whispered to her. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

She simply hugged his bicep and leaned into him, her eyes falling closed in one moment of bliss. Then they turned to face the pastor.

Pastor Patrick Knowlton—Willa Glover’s brother—smiled warmly at both Dawson and Caroline. The guests behind him settled into their seats, into respectful silence, the only sound the rushing of the wind as it intensified.

Dawson tensed, because they really only needed a few more minutes to get the I-do’s said. Rocks hopped over to Caroline and held up his claw clutching the silver beads.

“I see you, buddy,” she whispered, her voice made of pure fondness.

Dawson’s heart pounded as he lifted his eyes back to Pastor Knowlton, his arm securely around Caroline. The weight of the moment settled over him, a blend of awe and reverence. Every bit of his love for her radiated from his chest, mingling with the joy and excitement of their friends and family gathered around.

Pastor Knowlton smiled warmly. “We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Dawson Rhinehart and Caroline Thompson in holy matrimony,” he began. “This is a sacred moment, a pledge of love and partnership, witnessed by family, friends—and animals—” He nodded to the crows and over to the still-warbling hens. “And God.”

Dawson’s dropped his hand to Caroline’s as he absorbed the pastor’s words. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat pulsed against his arm, grounding him in the surreal-ness of the moment.

“I just wish to say this one thing.” He took a moment, and Dawson couldn’t even imagine how many weddings Pastor Knowlton had performed. A lot. “A marriage is multi-faceted. There aren’t just two sides to every story; there are an untold number of feelings, words, emotions, thoughts, and conversations. Nurture your love with patience, understanding, and unwavering commitment.”

He looked with some urgency from Caroline to Dawson and back. “Let your bond be rooted in mutual respect and open communication, and may your shared faith guide you through all of life’s seasons, whether they are filled with rain and hail, or sunshine and flowers.” He nodded with a smile to Caroline’s dress.

“Dawson,” Pastor Knowlton said, his voice steady and kind. “Do you take Caroline Denise Thompson to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in joy and in sorrow, to love and to cherish, from this day forward and for all the days of your life?”

---