write a card for Jeremiah Walker and Wade Rhinehart, both of whom had been awakened in the middle of the night to help.
Ward searched her face, but Dot couldn’t meet his eye. “I really think we should get back to the wedding.”
He said nothing, which only made Dot more uncomfortable. She’d borrowed the dress she currently wore from Arizona, who was close to her height. Ward’s cousin had also brought down a few pairs of fresh jeans and shirts for Dot, apologizing all the while that she hadn’t thought of it before.
Holly Ann had once again postponed the family dinner because of Dot, but it had worked out to serve it for the wedding. Dot had never eaten such good food, and she wished she hadn’t been so out of it yesterday, so she could’ve participated in the planning of today’s impromptu wedding.
Apparently, all of the other ranch wives had congregated at Holly Ann’s the moment they’d found out the event was happening. They’d planned everything, and Ward, Judge, and Mister had put together the altar as a nod to Preacher, who liked to carve things.
All of these Glovers were really good at something, and Dot’s own inadequacy spiraled through her. She’d been thinking a lot the past couple of days—since Ward’s serenade and confession that he wrote and sold country music songs for some of the biggest artists.
What was she good at?
Did she have any special skills at all?
Shoveling gravel and picking out a paint color could hardly be considered a skill someone else would envy.
Dot didn’t need to be envied. She simply wondered if she’d fit in here at Shiloh Ridge.
She stepped back into the dance hall where the rest of Ward’s family was still congregated. One of Preacher and Charlie’s first dates had been him teaching her how to dance so she’d attend his mother’s wedding with him, and they’d wanted a big dance party at their wedding.
Charlie wore Montana’s wedding dress, and Aurora—Montana’s daughter—had taken it in for her. The girl was good with a sewing machine, and even the in-laws had special skills to set them apart from everyone else in the world.
Ward’s hand landed on her hip, and it took all of Dot’s willpower not to lean into the sexy touch. “Are you upset with me?” he murmured, those sugar-coated lips so close to her ear.
“Yes,” she said. Might as well get it out and over with. Perhaps then the man would know that he couldn’t mother her to death.
“Why? What did I do?”
She turned toward him, letting his hand slide along her side. “Remember how you said you don’t mind fussing over the people you care about?”
“Of course.” His blue eyes blazed with an energy Dot had only felt a couple of times in her life. Once, when she’d employed her courage and walked away from the business she’d poured her heart and soul into in New Mexico. Again when she’d managed to pay off the small business loan she’d gotten to start From the Ground Up here in Three Rivers.
Again the first time Ward kissed her in the parking lot at Small Plates. Had that really only been six days ago? That couldn’t be right. It felt like she’d known him forever. They’d been together for months and months.
“Has it occurred to you that I don’t want to be fussed over? I’ve been diabetic for thirty years. I know how to handle it.”
“Do you?” he challenged. “Because we swung from low to high to into a serious diabetic coma all in a single day.”
“We didn’t do anything,” she said fiercely, edging her face closer to his. “I’m sorry I upset your life and caused you worry. Things happen. I didn’t know I was going to be stranded up at this blasted ranch for days and days. I don’t pack weeks’ worth of insulin with me.”
Ward glanced past her, and Dot didn’t want to make a scene at this wedding any more than he did. “I know that.” His voice barely left his mouth, but it vibrated through his chest.
Dot took a deep breath. “I just…you irritate me sometimes. I don’t need you to ask me how I’m feeling. I know how I’m feeling, and I know what to do about it.”
“I understand that. I—”
“You don’t,” she said. “You’re mothering me. No, smothering me. You’re not my nurse. I don’t want you to be my nurse.”
Ward fell back a step, his hand falling from her hip. “What do you want, Dot?”
She’d already told