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Tate felt like the buttons on his good suit would burst with the pride he felt in his gorgeous wife as she measured her pace down the aisle of Creekside Fellowship, her gaze fixed on his.

When she’d last come toward him like this, it had been their own wedding at the Sweet River lodge, and she’d been a vision in white. She’d said she wasn’t apprehensive, but he hadn’t quite believed her. He’d certainly been a bundle of nerves.

But now, two months later? He loved her more every single day, and she’d blossomed in that environment. As had he.

He winked at his darling wife as she passed the back pew where he sat beside his cousins and brothers. She was positively radiant. Could that have anything to do with the new life forming inside her? He’d seen how being pregnant had changed his sister-in-law. Ashley had been pretty before, but then? She’d glowed, sort of like Stephanie did now.

At least no one would be tempted to feel sorry for Stephanie that her former boyfriend was marrying her best friend today. Not with the joy and light shining from her eyes.

Tate stood with everyone else to watch the stunning bride enter the back of the sanctuary on her father’s arm. He glanced forward to see Eli standing transfixed, a look of awe on his face, with his friend Caleb Grant beside him. And Stephanie waiting on the bride’s side of the platform. Smiling right at him.

Stephanie. The love of his life that he hadn’t known he was looking for that day in Butte. He’d been in so far over his head, and she’d swept in like an angel, taking care of Jamie, exposing the need in Tate himself.

She was his, now and forever. He could only hope and pray that he’d never again give her cause to doubt him, even for one minute, but life sometimes got messy, and their foundation was so much more solid.

Peter the rock.

Memories of the passion play drifted in front of his vision. He’d eaten, slept, and been Peter for several months. He’d worked alongside Connor, who’d played Jesus and come to know his Savior through the experience. Every time the production had run, Connor had faced him with these words: You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

He’d never felt much like a rock, other than trying to be there for Mom while she cared for Jamie and grieved the death of her own firstborn.

But now? He was the rock on which God could build a godly family with Stephanie, Jamie, and the little one coming early in the new year. Could build? No. Would build. Because Tate was determined to keep his own feet firmly planted on the foundation of faith and lead his family well.

Around him, a rustle reminded him that everyone was taking a seat. He did, too, then settled in to listen to Pastor Marshall’s marriage sermon. It might be the same one he’d preached back in June. Tate wouldn’t know. Most of it had gone over his head that day as he’d held Stephanie’s hands and looked deep into her eyes. He could catch up now, though. Pick up some pointers.

Beside him, Graham shifted as though he found the padded pew uncomfortable. Tate angled a glance at him. “You okay?” he whispered.

“I hate weddings,” his cousin murmured.

And the last one Graham had planned to attend a few weeks ago hadn’t even happened. Tate’s mind still boggled over how any guy could be despicable enough to send someone else to tell the bride the wedding was off just a couple of days before it was scheduled. Had the creep any clue how Graham felt about Cadence, or was the whole thing a big joke to him?

Thankfully, Paul Bradley was Graham’s cousin on his mother’s side, so Tate had never had to deal with him much. But, still, there wasn’t a fine way to put it. The guy was a jerk.

“Weddings aren’t so bad when you’re the groom,” Tate whispered back. Or when a guy could make eyes at his wife in a gorgeous dress while she stood up for a friend.

Graham scowled at him and slunk deeper into his seat. “Not likely to ever happen.”

“You’ve got another chance with Cadence now she’s working at the ranch.”

“She chose Paul over me.”

“That was then. This is now. It’s over with Paul, and she’s here.”

From beyond Graham, Bryce glared at the two of them. Perhaps they hadn’t been quite as quiet as he’d thought.

This wasn’t the moment for a longer conversation. Was it Tate’s place to pursue it with his cousin later? They’d never been that close — Graham had felt like it was the four boys against one while they grew up, and it had been kind of true. Tate and his brothers hadn’t needed Graham, and it had never occurred to them to reach out. They’d been kids. Selfish. Full of themselves.

They’d worked out of the same Chicago office for years, but rarely hung out after hours. They’d just run in different circles, and it hadn’t bothered Tate. Until they’d all been summoned to Montana and he’d realized just how lonely his cousin really was.

He’d do better. He and Stephanie could have Graham over sometimes. Maybe invite Cadence, too. Or, if Graham got over her, maybe Kaci. The head housekeeper seemed pretty aloof, but then, so did Graham. Would they make a good couple? Graham just needed…

Tate glanced at his cousin.

No, he wasn’t going to pretend he knew what was best for Graham, but he could pray for him. For his brothers. For his other cousins, too. Since he and Stephanie would be making their home in Montana for the foreseeable future, he’d be working with Weston and Jude, even if the others drifted back East.

How could he actually make friends with Nadine’s sons? Weston had a chip on his shoulder. Jude hung back. What would get through to them? He needed to figure it out.

The special music ended. Harper and Eli picked up two containers of sand in two distinct shades, and began to pour them into a larger one with both streams intermingling. The colors melded into a somewhat unified new color, signifying two lives becoming an inseparable single unit.