Page 121 of Broken on the Mountain
"Probably."
"That's okay. Uncle Travis cries ateverything."
From somewhere behind me, Travis shouts, "I heard that, Issy-bear!"
She giggles, and my heart does that thing it always does when she laughs—like it's trying to climb out of my body to get closer to her.
This kid has me completely wrapped around her tiny, sticky fingers, and everyone knows it.
Knox appears at my side, straightening his tie. "You ready for this, Morrison?"
"Been ready for five years."
"Could've done it sooner," he points out.
"Yeah, well." I stand, brushing dirt off my knees. "Life had other plans."
And it did.
First, there was Lily's wedding in Germany—the first time I'd seen my sister in person in almost a decade. Piper insisted we go, even though she was six months pregnant and exhausted.
"You need to be there," she'd said, booking the flights before I could argue. "Family matters."
She was right. She's always right.
Then Isabella arrived two months early, all five pounds of her, screaming her head off and turning my entire world upside down in the best possible way.
As a result, the wedding got pushed. Then pushed again.
And when Piper's business expanded and she was drowning in paperwork and hiring decisions, it only made sense to delay it again.
But we're here now. Finally.
Maybe. If this wind would go away.
The meadow stretches out before me, framed by the two velvet-green peaks I've hiked a thousand times. Wooden chairs are arranged in a loose semi-circle, filled with everyone who matters in our happy little life.
Betty is in the front row with a handkerchief already pressed to her eyes, Etta and Mabel whispering conspiratorially, Jamie and Brooke holding hands, the entire mountain rescue team looking uncomfortable in their dress clothes.
Charlie's manning the makeshift bar he insisted on setting up, a solid slab of carved pine he dragged up the mountain himself this morning.
Of course, his drinks are as much a spectacle as they are a refreshment.
The latest creation is a frothy, sunset-colored concoction he’s calling theMeadow Martini. It has everyone buzzing… literally.
I catch a whiff as he pours: bright citrus, a hint of something floral, and just enough vodka to make you forget the climb up here. He garnishes each glass with a tiny sprig of lavender and a wildflower petal, the kind Piper would press between the pages of the wildflower guide she reads to Isabelle every night.
“Drink up,” Charlie calls into the wind. “Love tastes better with booze.”
But even now, mother nature is doing its best to ruin this magical day.
"Chase." Jamie appears, looking annoyingly calm in his suit. "Lily just texted. They landed. She's grabbing a cab now."
Relief floods my body. "Good. That's good."
"You want to wait?"
I glance at the sky. Dark clouds are rolling in from the west, and the wind's picking up. We've got maybe an hour before the storm hits, and knowing mountain weather, that's generous.
