Page 158 of On The Rocks

May in southern Wyoming was magical, which was why we chose that particular time of the year. We wanted to do everything the opposite way to our first time around. No step-sisters, no ugly dresses, and no guests who we hardly knew.

We wanted warmth, peace, harmony, family, friendship, and a big ol’ knees-up afterward. We loved our bar, but having our reception there was too close to home—and, in our case, work; so when Mack Meadows made a suggestion and a kind offer, we jumped at it.

Maple Meadows Ranch and Agricultural Center may have been a working ranch and a farm, but Mack’s daughter, Lexi, had recently decided the place was so beautiful that it should also become the area’s premier wedding and reception venue. She approached her dad with the idea, and Mack—who wasn’t averse to expanding his business opportunities—agreed to fund the start-up costs. When he heard we were looking for somewhere to renew our vows, he offered the place to us along with Lexi’s party planning expertise, and here we were, three months later, with the big day finally upon us.

Organizing what was essentially a wedding in twelve weeks for anybody else would’ve been unthinkable—crazy even—but my wife had a few weapons in her arsenal.

Lexi, Tristan, and Maureen O’Shea.

Maeve wasn’t your typical bride. She didn’t want to spend her nights with her nose in bridal magazines or her days stressing over flower arrangements. She wanted to spend her free time with her husband, family, and friends, and if she read anything, it was a romance story in her cozy book nook.

She delegated all wedding planning to the experts, as she called them. All my woman insisted on was that she wanted the ceremony and party to have a sage-green theme.

So it did.

My groomsmen would wear sage-green button-up shirts under their black suit jackets except for one who would wear his under a black cut and myself, who would be wearing a black shirt. We offered to dress in full tuxes for Maeve; any one of us men would’ve worn anything she asked, but my wife wanted us to be relaxed, comfortable, and just enjoy the day, so we dropped the neckties.

It wasn’t a shock. My Mrs. always put everybody else before herself; it was a part of why I adored her so much.

Every day, Maeve lit my world up. Every day was brighter because of her.

Everybody loved her, but nobody loved her as much as me.

Nobody ever could.

Maeve O’Shea was my soulmate, and I sent up a prayer to my da every damned day for dogging my ass and forcing me to sit up and take notice of what had always been under my nose.

Pure beauty, inside and out.

“Penny for ‘em,” a deep voice rumbled from behind me.

I craned my neck, shifting my gaze away from the field of frolicking foals and grazing mares I’d been engrossed in for the last twenty minutes.

Mack strode up beside me and folded his arms across the fence I’d been leaning on. “Your mom asked me to find you. It’s time to get dressed. The ceremony starts in an hour.”

One side of my mouth hitched. “Right.”

“You okay?” Mack asked.

I nodded toward the field. “Your horses are looking good.”

His stare cast outward, and he grinned indulgently. “Comin’ here was a risk, but it’s paying off. The studs and mares are thriving, and the farmin’ side’s booming. Lexi’s already taken enough bookings this year to easily repay my investment, and next year’s dates are fillin’ up fast, too. Seems Wyoming’s the land of opportunity, at least for us.”

“It’s been good to my family, too,” I concurred. “My da brought us here when I was a little kid. All I’d known was New York, so you can imagine the culture shock when I went from a concrete jungle to wide open spaces.”

Mack nodded his agreement. “Yeah. I get ya.”

“Miss my da,” I croaked. “It’s been months, but I still find myself opening my mouth to tell him something before I remember he’s not there.”

“It’ll always be that way.” He smiled. “As it should be. You may not see him, Callum, but your pop’s spirit is engrained in that bar. He’s in the beautiful oak countertop, along with every chair, table, and stick of furniture. He’s in every joke, every story, every peal of laughter. He’s in every happy and sad memory and in every party and celebration. Mark my words, as long as the Lucky Shamrock’s standing, your dad lives on, the same way you and Maeve will, and eventually, your kids, too.”

My throat began to burn, and my eyes stung with the involuntary tears that came out of nowhere. I hadn’t scratched the surface of my grief over Da’s death, but fuck me, at that moment, standing with a virtual stranger on the day of my wedding, I lost my shit.

Tipping my head back, I looked at the blue sky with its wispy clouds with tears streaming down my face. I hadn’t cried since the last time Da beat me when I was twelve years old, but somehow, for some unknown reason, the floodgates opened, and I wept for my beloved da.

He wasn’t perfect, and he made mistakes. I detested what he did, and I loathed the residual feelings of confusion coursing through my blood, but when all was said and done, I loved my da down to my bones.

A heavy hand hit my shoulder, and my eyes lowered to take in Mack’s concerned expression.

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