was when she’d said she needed to focus on her catering.
Idiot, she told herself now. This place would steal her breath if it were decorated for a wedding. As it was, someone had put potted plants on the barrels, and they brought life into the barn where none had been before.
At some point, someone had hung a banner at the front of the barn that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOTHER in huge letters. A wreath of horseshoes hung there, and someone had tucked a few greeting cards through the loops created by the shoes.
She turned in a full circle, the cleanliness of this place speaking to how much someone cared about it. She took a couple of pictures of her fully filled buffets and wiped away a drop of sauce. Everything was covered so it would stay hot and ready for eating, and she wondered where everyone was.
The party was supposed to start in only five minutes.
Through the wide entrance to this room, someone opened the sliding door that had first captured Holly Ann’s love. She wanted a barn door like that in her house, though it wasn’t even big enough for such a thing. A small foyer sat beyond that door, so it didn’t take long for Ace to appear. “Ready?” he asked. “They just did the surprise at the homestead, and they’re literally seconds behind me.”
“I’m ready,” she said, sweeping her hand toward the buffet. “Look.”
“Were you taking a picture?” he asked, noticing her phone. “Do you want me to take one with you in it?”
“Yes,” she said. “By the desserts, okay?” She quickly swept the wispy hair off her face and debated removing her apron. In the end, she left it on. It showed the wear and tear of her work in the kitchen, and a chef should display their apron in any picture they took.
She pressed one hip into the buffet and away from the camera, as per Bethany Rose’s posing instructions. She knew she carried more weight than other women with hot cowboy boyfriends, but she didn’t mind that much. She thought her curves were beautiful, and she didn’t want a man who didn’t feel the same way she did about her body.
Besides, she didn’t trust a skinny chef.
She did want to look good in pictures, though, and Bethany Rose had taught her how to put her weight away from the camera to hide their thick Broadbent behinds and accentuate their better features.
“Gorgeous,” Ace said, stepping over to her and turning the phone so she could see it. “If I didn’t hear my brother’s voice right now, I’d kiss you again.”
Holly Ann took her phone, her smile in the picture just as happy as the one still on her face. “Later, cowboy,” she promised, and then she headed for the kitchen. “I’ll be in here if you need anything. I’ll keep an eye on the food from a distance.”
That was the mark of a great caterer, and Holly Ann wasn’t under any delusion that she was at this party as anything other than the woman who’d done the food.
She’d barely made it through the door when the noise level increased. Men and women talked and laughed, and she heard the moment when they entered the hall and found everything set and ready.
A rousing round of Happy Birthday filled the air, and Holly Ann dared to move back to the doorway to watch the Glover clan celebrate one of their revered members. She caught sight of Ace standing next to his mother, one arm linked through hers as he sang his heart out. He grinned and laughed when the song ended, and nearly everyone else clapped.
Ward stood on their mother’s other side, and it was him who took her carefully to her seat. She sat right next to Lois Glover, and the two of them clasped hands. They clearly shared a special bond, and Holly Ann knew exactly what that looked like and felt like.
She had that with her sister and father. In fact, she couldn’t wait to get back in her car and head down to town. She’d call Bethany Rose first, because that would be the longest conversation and she could end it when she pulled into her garage. Then she’d call Daddy and tell him she did the brave thing and told Ace how she felt.
He’d congratulate her and warn her not to go too fast with the man. He’d suggest she have him come pick her up at her childhood home, where he