ended with football and leftovers, and it was getting late when Cathy finally left, with a promise to let Duke know when she got home.
She called him the moment she drove into Blessings.
“I’m here. Going to swing by the Bottoms just to see the lights inside the houses and rest easy knowing no one is cold or hungry there today.”
“Blessings to you, my little Christmas angel. I’ll pick you up tomorrow to go get your dress.”
“No, you don’t need to,” Cathy said. “I’m going straight there and straight home, and I have to face that alone.”
“Oh Jesus, Cathy. You know that’s gonna freak me out.”
“Then you have to get over being afraid for me, because I can’t live thinking each day could be my last.”
She heard him sigh.
“Deal,” he finally said. “Same rules. Call me.”
“Deal,” Cathy said. “Love you.”
Then she turned and drove across the old track bed, thinking what a difference the view was from here now. It felt good to know she’d helped fix this. But instead of driving through the streets as she’d planned, she turned around and went home.
* * *
Getting her wedding dress was a breeze. She was in and out of the city and driving back into Blessings before noon.
“I’m home,” she said, when she called in.
“So am I,” Duke said, which made her smile. “It’s not long now, baby. Laurel Lorde and her crew are out here cleaning our new home, and I want to see you so bad.”
“Come over tonight. We’ll make love and make sundaes.”
“I can’t stay. We’re working cattle early tomorrow.”
“That’s okay. We’re on the downhill slide of my house/your house life.”
“Then I’ll see you later.”
He made good on his promise, and took her to bed within moments of walking in the door.
A couple of hours later they were in the kitchen, revisiting the sundaes-for-supper routine, and when Duke left, he tasted the butterscotch from her kiss all the way home.
* * *
At 5:00 p.m. New Year’s Eve, the preacher who’d married Jack and Hope drove up in his car and hurried inside the house. The cars already parked outside the two-story farmhouse marked the guests who had already arrived.
Cathy was upstairs in the guest room getting dressed, and Duke was in the bedroom next door doing the same. He could hear the rumble of voices next door, and then every so often the soft sound of Cathy’s laugh.
“Thank you, God, for this woman,” he said, and then sat down on the side of the bed and waited.
He knew guests were arriving, but he didn’t want to go visit. He just wanted to hear his woman say “I do.”
Some of them were people Cathy had yet to meet—families who had been neighbors of the Talbots for two generations and who had shared troubles and joys together. The few who’d come from Blessings were at Cathy’s request.
But it was the arrival of the preacher that signaled the beginning.
Jack flew up the stairs to get Duke, as Hope was zipping up the back of Cathy’s dress.
“You’re beautiful, girl,” Hope said. “I’m going to leave you alone now to tell Cathy Terry goodbye. When you walk out of this house tonight, you will be a Talbot woman…and you are a perfect example of who they were. Welcome to the family, sister. I love you. When you hear the music, it will be time to come down the stairs.”
She gave Cathy a quick kiss on the cheek, and then left her alone.
Cathy turned to face herself in the full-length mirror and then shivered.
The jade necklace Duke had given her rested in the valley between her breasts—a beautiful contrast to her winter-white dress. Whisper-soft cashmere clung to her curves all the way to her hips, then flared the rest of the way to the floor. The mandarin collar tucked beneath her chin was stark against the red curls on her shoulders, and the long sleeves all the way to her wrists had tiny bands of the best artificial ermine money could buy.
She’d let her curls fall free. No more binding…no more boundaries. The tiny sprig of green in her hair was from a pine bough, and her bouquet was holly bush, with the red holly berries and a single strand of long red velvet ribbon holding it together. She looked at herself one last time—the white for snow…the pine for the trees in which she’d lived…the fur they’d worn to stay warm in harsh winters…and red, the color of the blood often shed in a