Page 1 of A Reckless Memory

One

AGGIE

I hitched up the hem of the sleek white skirt on my bridal gown and admired the white, sparkly cowboy boots on my feet. My sophisticated sister-in-law, Meg, winced every time she got a glimpse of the boots under my dress, but I wasn’t a heels-and-skirt gal like her. I could jump on a horse and ride into the sunset—after I married the man of my dreams. The heels Meg helped me pick out were sitting by the mirror, but I was saving my toes for dancing.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Tex’s tail thump, his gaze riveted on the swirling material. “Tex, stay.”

The one-year-old Australian shepherd whined and went back to trying to free the salmon treat from his red Kong toy. My soon-to-be husband’s precocious puppy was being restricted from all the guests. We were keeping him in the house lest he try to herd half the population of Buffalo Gully while they mingled in the backyard.

“Can’t we put him in the garage?” Meg whined, fussing with my wild curls. She’d moussed and sprayed them into submission. With her standing behind me, it was hard not to compare us. Me, the scrawny cowgirl. Meg, the classy lawyer who married my oldest brother. Even all lotioned up, my skin didn’t shine like Meg’s. Her glossy mahogany hair probably wound itself into the twist behind her head. Her nails pinching my scalp around the base of my bun were pretty razors.

“He’ll be fine.” I gave Tex a stern look before switching my attention to the mirror and my plain nails.

Meg let out a final huff and peered at my face. “Are you sure you don’t want a touch of foundation to cover the freckles?”

Sutton Grant, a future sister-in-law, scooted behind me and put her hands on my shoulders, rubbing them. Her wheat-blonde hair was pulled to the top of her head like a messy crown that matched the vibe of my outdoor wedding. I’d rather be more casual like her.

“She wouldn’t be Aggie without freckles.” She grinned at me in the glass. “You look great.”

“Freckles make it harder for men to take women seriously,” Meg said in her imperious tone. She reminded me of Mama, and I soaked up a lot of what she said, but having Sutton stand up with me at my wedding gave me breathing room I didn’t know I needed when Meg was around.

I compromised with Meg when she helped me plan the wedding. She’d been beside herself when Daddy insisted—ordered—the wedding be on the ranch. I mollified her by choosing the fitted dress with a high neck and sleeves that covered the majority of the freckles sprinkled over my shoulders. Mama would’ve loved this dress. She’d have gushed about it right before she repeated all her dire warnings about making sure I wasn’t anchored to anyone, much less one man.

It was the man that mattered. And we were going to be partners. Ansen Barron. Horse trainer. Country boy. Hot cowboy. My fiancé. Ansen had been hired to break and saddle train Daddy’s Arabians a year and a half ago. When I saw him swing down from a horse only Mama had been able to ride before she abandoned us, I was lost. It took him a while to notice me, but I blamed my four older brothers for that.

“Almost time,” Sutton whispered. Delicious nerves fluttered in my stomach.

Meg stepped away and scrolled through her phone. She dropped to sit primly on the edge of the upholstered chair in my bedroom. I studied her moves. I’d have to be careful sitting in this dress. The dresses she and Sutton wore were a similar style to my wedding gown but in a dusty blue. I hadn’t cared but had defaulted to Meg’s knowledge. The color reminded me of the sky on a hazy fall morning.

I feathered my hands over my hair. No longer frizzy or wild. I almost didn’t recognize myself. I couldn’t wait until Ansen saw me.

“I’m nervous,” I admitted. “Today doesn’t feel real.”

“You’re telling me,” Meg said on a gusty breath. “I told Alcott the other day it was like you were just in high school. Because you were. You’re barely drinking age.” She rarely called my brother Cody like the rest of us, and she was almost ten years older than me, so I would always seem like a baby to her.

“Twenty-one and twenty-three isn’t bad,” I said. “We’re adults, and we’ll have our own place. Our own business.”

Meg made a grunt that managed to sound ladylike.

I went to my jewelry box and dug out the silver horseshoe earrings my youngest brother, Eliot, gave me for Christmas. My 4-H ribbons lined the wall behind the dresser. Meg thought they were childish, but I liked the proof of my accomplishments. Back at the mirror, I tipped my head to put the earrings on. I’d have to remember to take them out before the wedding night. My ears got angry red if I wore jewelry too long, and once Ansen put his hands on me, I didn’t think about anything but him.

“Make sure you build far from the ranch,” Meg muttered and turned her attention back to her phone. Knowing what my brother saw in her was easy—she was gorgeous, intelligent, and classy. Not the usual woman you met in a small town in the middle of nowhere, in eastern Montana, where there were more cattle than people. He’d met her at college in Missoula.

I squinted into the mirror. Tex had wiggled along the floor to chew on the leg of the dresser. “No, Tex.” He stopped, and I went to get him a treat from the top of my dresser.

“That dog would gnaw the foundation from the house given the chance.” Sutton dropped to her knees next to Tex, heedless of getting wrinkles in her dress or slobber by-products on the material.

“Sutton, your dress,” Meg hissed.

Sutton ignored Meg’s abject horror. I handed Sutton the bag of treats to reload the toy, hoping we could keep Tex distracted until after the majority of people were gone.

“Such a good boy,” she crooned as she redirected his attention away from the wood. She emptied the treat bag into the toy.

If we were going to make it through this ceremony without the sounds of barking filling the house, we’d need more goodies and another chew toy—or five. Tex was a smart dog, but all the strangers overwhelmed his youthful senses. “I have to grab another bag.”

Sensing I was leaving, Tex crossed to me, and I sank my fingers into his thick coat. Sutton brushed strands of white and brown fur off her dress. Meg was unsuccessfully smothering her horrified expression that we even let the dog in the room.

“I can find some,” Sutton offered.

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