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“Last chance,” Mom whispered.

For the veil? Or to back out of the wedding completely? Stephanie shook her head and smiled at her mother. “No regrets with my choices.”

“Okay.” Mom’s lips brushed Stephanie’s cheek then she exited the room.

Last night at rehearsal, Stephanie had peeked out of the room to see Mom take Bryce’s arm to descend the staircase and take her place in the front row. Right now, she had to imagine it.

Sage beckoned to Carey, who left the room, leaving Stephanie with Harper.

Harper gave her a sideways hug. “You’re beautiful, and you’ve got this. May God be with you and Tate and bless you both.” Then Harper was at the door, waiting for Carey to step off of the bottom of the stairs before she made her own entrance.

Dad stepped into the room, looking dapper in his dark gray suit. “Ready?”

Stephanie adjusted the boutonniere on his lapel. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He looked down the length of her then back into her eyes. “You look a lot like your mother did.”

“Thanks.” At least, Stephanie hoped it was meant as a compliment. “I love you, Daddy.”

He managed a smile as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I love you, too, honey.”

“Ready?” Sage whispered. “Almost time.”

“I’m ready.” Stephanie squeezed her father’s arm as they stepped out into the hallway.

Carey turned in her assigned place in front of the wide windows overlooking the lake. It might have been Stephanie’s imagination, but she was pretty sure Carey winked at Ryder in the gathering. They’d been married only two months themselves.

Harper had reached the back row of chairs, and Stephanie could see Eli’s gaze following his fiancée from where he sat near the back.

Any triumph at beating them to the altar was long gone. Sure, that might have been part of Stephanie’s thoughts at first, but that competition had faded as she realized that Eli Bryson was definitely not the man meant for her… and Tate Sullivan was.

At the grand piano, Caleb segued into the traditional wedding march. Everyone rose and turned to watch Stephanie descend the stairs with her father ramrod straight at her side.

She saw all of them, the eighty or so friends and relatives gathered in the great room, but they faded into a blur when she caught sight of Tate standing tall and sure beside Pastor Marshall, hands clasped behind his back. His gaze was fixed on her, and the smile on his handsome face was all for her.

For her. Stephanie Simpson. Of all the women on the planet, Tate Sullivan had chosen her. And she’d chosen him right back.

Now she and Dad descended the stairs, and she lost sight of Tate for a minute or two as they completed the descent and rounded the back of the gathering for the final approach down the center aisle.

There was Tate, his smile never wavering, the warmth in his brown eyes becoming more apparent the nearer she drew until she and Dad stood right in front of him and Pastor Marshall.

Her father’s best friend cleared his throat. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

Dad’s voice was clear and strong. “Her mother and I do.”

Stephanie’s doubts that her father actually meant it faded when her hand touched Tate’s. He winked and squeezed her hand.

Married to this man? Yes, please.

All the doubts would disappear in his arms. Please, God, let it be so.

* * *

Tate couldn’t take his eyes off his bride as they stood facing each other in front of the great room’s fireplace. He certainly hadn’t envisioned this scenario when he, Stephanie, and Jamie had arrived that April day. But now their closest family and friends had gathered to celebrate their union. Their love.

Pastor Marshall launched into a sermon taken from First Corinthians thirteen. Love was patient. Love was kind. And more. Tate would study the passage more deeply later. Not that he took this decision lightly, no matter what others thought of the speed this surprising romance had taken. But because he kept getting lost in Stephanie’s misty gaze.

He spared a quick glance for Jamie, who was sitting on Mom’s lap playing with the contents of her bag, which she’d placed on the seat separating her from Dad. Grandfather sat on the other side of Dad with a satisfied smile on his face. Something else to unpack later.