Joe’s gaze met Sam’s, and Sam grinned. Joe grinned back. Smiled. Even though he was no longer on the road with Sam, Billy, and Tommy, they were still close, and he knew they’d be here today. He would have bet the ranch on it.
Suddenly, the music changed and the familiar strains of the bridal march played. Joe looked up, and there was Sophie, entering the big barn on his grandfather’s arm.
His heart kind of stopped.
He, who never cried, felt his eyes sting. Joe blinked hard to see her better.
She wasn’t wearing white. She wore a light blue gown with a delicate lace bodice with a frothy tulle skirt that floated around her, making her look like a cloud as she walked down the aisle on Granddad’s arm. Her long hair had been curled and styled, and she carried a bouquet of white roses and lilies. She finally had the flowers she deserved. She was so beautiful, perfect in every way.
She smiled at him as she approached, and for a second, Joe couldn’t breathe. It was impossible when his chest ached, his heart full.
He’d placed an ad for a wife, and God had sent him an angel.
The End
The Wyatt Brothers of Montana series
Book 1: Montana Cowboy Romance
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Book 2: Montana Cowboy Christmas
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Book 3: Montana Cowboy Daddy
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Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from Charity Wright’s romance
Not Christmas Without You
Jane Porter
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It wasn’t the worst breakup in history.
Charity Wright knew that on the spectrum of heartbreaks, hers was mild. It was the sort of thing that someone might say “I have a touch of the flu,” except hers was a touch of heartbreak. Not so devastating that the holidays would be completely ruined but dispiriting, for sure. She secretly suspected that she might be getting too old to believe that happy-ever-afters could exist. And yet, she wasn’t a good pessimist. She preferred to see the glass as half-full, but on the inside she was increasingly worried. Was something wrong with her?
Why couldn’t she meet “the one”? Or, had she met the one—her thoughts immediately went to her first love, Joe Wyatt, before shying away—and she’d blown her only opportunity for happy-ever-after? Maybe soul mates didn’t exist. Maybe there wouldn’t be a Mr. Right for her, never mind a Mr. Perfect.
Her younger sister, Amanda, said Charity hadn’t found Mr. Right because Charity’s standards weren’t high enough—at least not since Joe, and he was years ago.
Older-sister Jenny said it was because all those romance novels Charity had read growing up had poisoned her brain, making her think that love was easy and fun. Obviously Jenny had never read a romance novel, because in romance, love was not easy or fun. Love was a battlefield, with a little nod to the great 80s’ singer, Pat Benatar.
This was why Charity needed a break from men and dating. She was just too banged up. A little too bruised. Charity was usually a never-ending well of hope, but at the moment, her hope was running dry. Which was why she kept thinking about Tricia’s offer to attend the travel agent familiarization trip in Wyoming in Tricia’s place.
It’d be a chance to get away from Marietta, a chance to have a break from the real estate office—as she unfortunately worked with her ex, the double-timing Greg—and a chance to go somewhere she’d never been. The Tetons were only a five-hour drive from Marietta, but she’d never been.
Growing up, the Wright sisters hadn’t traveled much because the family didn’t have the means to travel, never mind manage rent and food. But Charity was thirty now, and this travel agent familiarization would get her there, and even better, it was free. A four-night, five-day all-expense paid trip to a little ski resort in Wyoming. Would it be so wrong to go?
Was it so awful to pretend to be Tricia Thorpe instead of Charity Wright?
It wasn’t as if Tricia was a stranger. Tricia had been a close friend since they were girls, and Tricia’s brother married Charity’s sister, Jenny, making them family. And since Tricia couldn’t go on the trip due to a work conflict, and the Little Teton ski resort really wanted Marietta Travel to participate, why couldn’t Charity represent Marietta Travel?
It wasn’t as if Charity knew nothing about the travel agency. She’d worked for them one summer when they were shorthanded and she was in between jobs. True, she hadn’t actually booked travel, but she’d filed brochures and printed travel itineraries and assisted the agents with their research. She actually quite liked the job. She’d hoped they would hire her and train her, but they had wanted someone with experience, someone who already knew how to use the computer software and had a client base. That’s how Charity had ended up working for Sam Melk at Melk Realty, and then how she met Greg, who’d been hired a year after she started there. They were no longer dating, but Greg remained a problem, making little digs, constantly goading her. Charity shouldn’t have ever dated him in the first place, but what was done was done. All she could do was move forward.
A trip to Wyoming sounded like the perfect break, a most welcome break. Provided she didn’t have to ski—of course she’d been skiing at Bridger Bowl, just outside of Bozeman and she’d also done a little bit of skiing at Big Sky—but she was still quite an intermediate skier, and wasn’t cut out for black diamond anything.
Tricia had said no skiing was required. Tricia said Charity simply needed to soak up all the information and report back, and if there was anything Charity did well, it was taking notes.
Charity shut down her computer, walked through Melk Realty turning off printers and lights, adjusting the thermostat for the night, before locking the door on the office and making her way two blocks south on Main Street to Marietta Travel.
Outside, festive white lights framed the windows and green garland wrapped around the light posts lining the street. The decorations on Main Street were familiar and beloved, and while Charity cherished her life in Marietta, there were disadvantages to living in a small town. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her, which also meant they knew when her romantic life derailed.
Marietta Travel still blazed with light and, peeking through the front window painted with a huge blue globe, topped with a jaunty red ribbon and the words The World is Yours in a gorgeous font, Charity spotted Tricia still at her desk in the glassed-in office at the very back.
Charity gave the painted window a quick critical study before trying the door. The paint was holding up. Good. She’d worried it might crack with the cold but it looked perfect still. No one but Tricia knew Charity had painted the window when Tricia’s usual sign painter tripped on his own icy sidewalk and broke his wrist, preventing him from doing the job. Tricia knew that Charity was forever sketching clothes, and asked Charity if she’d be willing to decorate their window for the Marietta Stroll, and Charity hadn’t been able to turn down the chance to make a little extra money on the side. With both of her parents now retired, money in her family was always tight.
Charity stuck her head inside the front door and called to Tricia, “Hey, Trish, am I interrupting?”
Tricia left her desk and waved her in. “Just wrapping up a few things. Come on back.”