Page 91 of His Tenth Dance

Thankfully, Daddy kept going. “We love Thee, Lord, and ask for any other blessings Thou hast in store for us at this time. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed around the kitchen in the deep rumble of male voices.

Tucker barely had time to put his cowboy hat back on before Hunter drew him into a hug. “This is the best day of your life, brother,” Hunter said with pure joy in his voice.

Tuck clearly remembered Hunter’s wedding. He’d been nine years old, and his father and uncles had danced down the aisle to rock music.

His older half-brother had always been his idol, so Tuck gripped him hard and said, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Tuck,” Hunter said.

He went around the circle, hugging everyone, and then they lined up in order. He expected Tag and Opal, Cord and Jane, Keith and Lindsay, and Mike and Gerty to walk together. Deacon was taking one of Bobbie Jo’s roommates, Cara, down the aisle, and Mission would escort the other. He’d told him he could walk with Kristie, but Mission had said it was fine. Kristie didn’t know Tuck and Bobbie Jo all that well, and it was a thirty-second walk down an aisle.

Momma and Daddy would already be seated for the ceremony. Tarr would have Briar on his arm. Tucker prayed for her every day, morning and night. If Tarr wasn’t at her house taking care of her, then Bobbie Jo was. Tucker had been over a few times himself, and Briar had healed quite well in the past three weeks. She’d moved from walking with a crutch, to a cane, and today, Tuck expected to see her in a sturdy pair of boots and nothing more.

As he embraced Tarr, he had the distinct thought thathewould be Briar’s crutch that day. Honestly, Tucker thanked God every evening when Tarr returned to the house in one piece. Briar wasn’t exactly easy to get along with, and Tarr refused to let her run him off.

Tucker knew the exact turmoil that lived inside Tarr. He’d experienced it himself when he’d watched Tarr get hit by a bull and lose consciousness before he even landed on the ground. That helplessness and pure fear—he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

Tarr hadn’t ridden in a rodeo in a while, but the man had been born with nerves of steel. He could come home at night, completely exhausted and sobbing…and four minutes later be ready to ride again.

The men left the house in a single file line, with Daddy slipping out the front since he wasn’t part of the wedding party. Hunter led them, as he’d been doing for many years now, and joined up with Molly near the fire pit area.

“Where’s Bobbie Jo?” he asked.

The family picnic area sat on the other side of a line of pine trees and down the road about one hundred yards. He had teased Bobbie Jo that they could get married on horseback and ride off into the sunset, but she’d planned a morning wedding without equines.

Or so he thought.

Everything shifted as he watched cowhands from the farm and Pony Power arrive with horses. Molly’s fall had been almost three months ago now, but she still accepted help from Hunter and a cowboy named Rich to get into the saddle. Hunter swung onto his horse beside her, and Tucker started to laugh as the entire wedding party mounted up.

Finally, Matt Whettstein steadied Freckles for Tucker. The moment he landed in the saddle—tuxedoed and ready to be married—Hunt said, “Tuck, you’re supposed to be up here.”

He moved Freckles to the front of the line, the only solo rider in the group. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Head to the altar,” Hunter said. “It won’t be that hard, trust me.”

Tucker swallowed and faced the road. He moved past the pine trees, the big tents immediately coming into view in front of him. As he got closer, he realized there were two tents for guests, with a wide aisle between them and open sky above. He knew right where to aim his horse, and he took Freckles down the aisle as the crowd stood and watched from both sides.

He would definitely be getting married on horseback, because the altar stood as tall as Freckles’s chest, and Pastor Benson climbed several steps to stand behind it as Tuck arrived.

“Hello, Pastor Benson,” he said as Bobbie Jo had asked Molly’s father to marry them.

“Good morning, Tucker,” Pastor Benson said jovially. “That’s a beautiful horse you’ve got.”

“He’s the best.” Tuck turned to watch the rest of his wedding party clip-clop down the aisle toward him. They arrived, each of them dismounting and tethering their horse to poles set up in a semicircle behind the altar.

The only person missing was Bobbie Jo.

Tuck turned his horse to watch for her. He expected to see her from farther away, so surprise bolted through him when herfather stepped out from the back of the tent on his right, and her horse, carrying her, emerged on the left.

Had he ridden right past her and not seen her? Impossible.

She rode a horse, her glorious white wedding dress cascading in a waterfall of fabric over the left side of the animal. She rode side saddle, with thick straps coming up over her shoulders and a beautiful pearly white cowgirl hat perched on her head.

She looked like royalty, and for Tucker, she was certainly his queen.

Her daddy led the horse toward Tuck. When they arrived at the altar, he handed the reins to Pastor Benson.

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