Page 39 of The Rancher's Wedding

“Still, you could stand to loosen up some. Just relax. Talk however feels right for you, at least tonight. Let’s have some fun.”

They made it to the front of the line and the photographer ushered them in front of the camera.

“Mind if I cut in?” a voice asked.

They both looked over to see Jacob, who had decided to join them after all.

“Oh, Jacob!” Estelle said. “Yes, please. Come join us.”

Jacob stood to the other side of Michael as the photographer gestured for them to move a bit over. Then he said, “Okay, now, hold real still.”

There was a flash of light, blinding Estelle momentarily, then causing her to see bright red rings every time she blinked.

“That’s it,” the photographer said. “We’ll get it developed and you can come pick it up from me later in the week.”

They walked away and Estelle took everything in as best as she could. It was overwhelming. The air was full of the sounds of people having fun over the upbeat music, as well as the smells of smoked meat and sauces. Fireworks exploded overhead, shining a bright white light on all the faces of the people of Grafton, celebrating their town and everything they loved about it.

While she was lost in everything, Michael turned to Estelle and asked, “What’s next?”

Estelle looked from booth to booth and all the activities available to her, but the center of the square, with the stage, musicians, and joyful couples dancing called out to her.

“Next, my husband, you ask me to dance.”

His face turned red as he looked down to his boots. “I don’t know about that,” Michael said.

“Oh, come on now,” Estelle said. “I promise to say yes.”

“I ain’t much of a dancer.”

“Neither am I, but it’s fun.”

The band ended their song to a brief applause, then started a new song—a kind of Western ballad, slow and sweet.

“Oh, now you must ask me to dance,” Estelle said. “Look at them. All they’re doing is standing next to each other and rocking back and forth. You practically do that every day riding the horses.”

“She’s got a point,” Jacob put in. “Ask your wife to dance.”

“Oh, all right,” Michael said. “Mrs. Estelle Holden, would you dance with me?”

She batted her eyes. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I’d be honored. Come on.”

They walked over to the dance floor and Michael took her in her arms.

“Closer,” Estelle said. “You could fit a whole person between us. Maybe two.”

He moved closer and she wanted him closer still. They were husband and wife, married before the eyes of God; surely, this wasn’t a sin. She pulled him closer so their torsos were touching, and she could feel Michael’s breath on her neck. It was warm and, yet, it sent a pleasant chill through her body.

“This feels nice,” Michael said.

It was a sensation that came over her all at once. She knew this was a marriage of convenience, a marriage that she was using to escape from a life of misery. For a second, though, she asked herself,what if this is more?

She pushed the thought from her head. Men were powerful elixirs, especially men like Michael, with his toned body and chiseled jawline, and feeling his light stubble graze against her cheek made her want to surrender herself to love—though she dared not even think the word.

Just enjoy the moment, Estelle told herself.Enjoy the feeling, illusion though it may be. It won’t still be here in the morning.

And so, she did. She allowed herself to do just as Michael asked: she relaxed.

“Yes,” Estelle said. “Yes, it does feel nice.”

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