Page 10
Story: The Desperate Warrior
Tippin lifted his and Zoe’s joined hands in triumph and then led her back down the aisle. Amidst the fanfare of cheering and whistles, the bride and groom rode off on a four-wheeler, which Mom no doubt was stewing about. Then, the wedding planner primly announced that the reception would be held back at the ranch.
A line of ATVs were waiting to taxi the guests to the pristine backyard that boasted a large patio and shimmering swimmingpool. Mom had put her foot down when it came to the reception and insisted on pulling out all the stops. Tippin balked at the elaborateness of the event, but Jules could tell Zoe was secretly pleased that Mom was determined to put on the dog. Jules could almost see the wheels turning in her sister’s head and knew that Zoe was thinking about all of the amazing shots she would get for social media.
Mom certainly knew how to throw a party. She’d hired a barrage of workers to set everything up the day before. The backyard was a feast for the eyes, with thousands of tiny white lights strung over the pergola and every other possible location. Enough floral arrangements and plants had been brought in to rival the botanical garden. A full-course dinner of prime rib prepared by a five-star chef would be served with several mouth-watering sides. Dessert would consist of a large variety of homemade donuts cooked on the spot. Mom hired a band and brought a portable dance floor in so they could dance the night away under the stars.
Dad stepped up. “Honey, do you want to catch a ride back with us?”
“Y’all go on ahead. I think I’ll hang back and talk to a few of the guests.”
A sly grin curved his mouth as he glanced in Brock’s direction. “Seems like it might not be long before I have both of my daughters married off.”
Heat flamed her face as she let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” he said like it was a statement of fact. “I saw how Brock looked at you during the ceremony. He’s a goner.”
“Really?” Hope flickered in her breast. Dad had no idea how badly she needed to hear that right now. She’d always considered herself to be a self-assured person, but this thing with Brock was totally throwing her off.
“Really,” Dad assured her. He hitched up the waist of his dress pants, his voice going deep with authority. “I’ll have to catch up with him at the reception—set down some ground rules moving forward.”
Her jaw went slack. “You wouldn’t dare.” She was about to say more but stopped when she saw the wicked glint in Dad’s eyes. She swatted his arm. “Stop harassing me.”
“It’s a father’s prerogative, I’m afraid.” His eyes twinkled with mirth.
“Don’t say a word to Brock about any future plans,” she warned. “We’re taking things slow.”
“I won’t do anything to embarrass you,” Dad said easily. “Just don’t go too slow. Your mother and I would like to have at least one or two grandchildren before you and your sister cart us off to a care center.”
“No chance of that happening.” Seeing his surprise, she added. “The care center part.”
He pressed his lips together in thought. “Brock’s a harder nut to crack than Junior. Of course, I’ve known Junior since he was in diapers.” His eyes lit with amusement. “I had a pretty good idea that he’d salivate over the guitar.”
“Uh, huh,” she drawled, “and the fact that Tippin’s dad is your best friend and business partner didn’t hurt.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m all about taking advantage of whatever tools are at my disposal.” He dipped his head. “I wonder what it’s gonna take to get Brock to propose,” he mused.
Her eyes popped open wide. “Dad,” she exclaimed, “it’s waaay too early to go there.”
He grinned like a possum. “No harm in being prepared.”
She shook her head, knowing she couldn’t do a thing with her dad. Tall and huskily built with a ruddy complexion and silver hair, Clayton Sterling was the picture of a successful rancher who delved into a myriad of other ventures with his trustedfriend Emmett Armstrong by his side. Dad prided himself on being a master negotiator and loved to play matchmaker, as evidenced by Zoe and Tippin.
“Be nice to Brock,” she admonished. “And don’t lay it on too thick, or he’s liable to run for the hills. This isn’t the same situation as Tippin, where he was in love with Zoe since they were kids. Brock and I are just starting out. We need time to evolve.”
He scrunched his eyebrows. “You’re not a couple of relics from the dinosaur age trying to evolve into the modern world. You’re a young, vibrant couple in a relationship with loads of potential.”
“What makes you so sure that Brock is the one for me?”
His expression grew tender. “It’s written all over your face.”
She rocked back, not liking that she was so transparent. “Really?”
“I know you care about him deeply, and that’s saying a lot. You’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”
Her eyes misted as she hugged her arms and blinked rapidly. Dad knew her too well. “It’s true,” she admitted.
“Don’t look so forlorn. This should be one of the happiest times of your life.”
“Yeah,” she sighed.
A line of ATVs were waiting to taxi the guests to the pristine backyard that boasted a large patio and shimmering swimmingpool. Mom had put her foot down when it came to the reception and insisted on pulling out all the stops. Tippin balked at the elaborateness of the event, but Jules could tell Zoe was secretly pleased that Mom was determined to put on the dog. Jules could almost see the wheels turning in her sister’s head and knew that Zoe was thinking about all of the amazing shots she would get for social media.
Mom certainly knew how to throw a party. She’d hired a barrage of workers to set everything up the day before. The backyard was a feast for the eyes, with thousands of tiny white lights strung over the pergola and every other possible location. Enough floral arrangements and plants had been brought in to rival the botanical garden. A full-course dinner of prime rib prepared by a five-star chef would be served with several mouth-watering sides. Dessert would consist of a large variety of homemade donuts cooked on the spot. Mom hired a band and brought a portable dance floor in so they could dance the night away under the stars.
Dad stepped up. “Honey, do you want to catch a ride back with us?”
“Y’all go on ahead. I think I’ll hang back and talk to a few of the guests.”
A sly grin curved his mouth as he glanced in Brock’s direction. “Seems like it might not be long before I have both of my daughters married off.”
Heat flamed her face as she let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” he said like it was a statement of fact. “I saw how Brock looked at you during the ceremony. He’s a goner.”
“Really?” Hope flickered in her breast. Dad had no idea how badly she needed to hear that right now. She’d always considered herself to be a self-assured person, but this thing with Brock was totally throwing her off.
“Really,” Dad assured her. He hitched up the waist of his dress pants, his voice going deep with authority. “I’ll have to catch up with him at the reception—set down some ground rules moving forward.”
Her jaw went slack. “You wouldn’t dare.” She was about to say more but stopped when she saw the wicked glint in Dad’s eyes. She swatted his arm. “Stop harassing me.”
“It’s a father’s prerogative, I’m afraid.” His eyes twinkled with mirth.
“Don’t say a word to Brock about any future plans,” she warned. “We’re taking things slow.”
“I won’t do anything to embarrass you,” Dad said easily. “Just don’t go too slow. Your mother and I would like to have at least one or two grandchildren before you and your sister cart us off to a care center.”
“No chance of that happening.” Seeing his surprise, she added. “The care center part.”
He pressed his lips together in thought. “Brock’s a harder nut to crack than Junior. Of course, I’ve known Junior since he was in diapers.” His eyes lit with amusement. “I had a pretty good idea that he’d salivate over the guitar.”
“Uh, huh,” she drawled, “and the fact that Tippin’s dad is your best friend and business partner didn’t hurt.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m all about taking advantage of whatever tools are at my disposal.” He dipped his head. “I wonder what it’s gonna take to get Brock to propose,” he mused.
Her eyes popped open wide. “Dad,” she exclaimed, “it’s waaay too early to go there.”
He grinned like a possum. “No harm in being prepared.”
She shook her head, knowing she couldn’t do a thing with her dad. Tall and huskily built with a ruddy complexion and silver hair, Clayton Sterling was the picture of a successful rancher who delved into a myriad of other ventures with his trustedfriend Emmett Armstrong by his side. Dad prided himself on being a master negotiator and loved to play matchmaker, as evidenced by Zoe and Tippin.
“Be nice to Brock,” she admonished. “And don’t lay it on too thick, or he’s liable to run for the hills. This isn’t the same situation as Tippin, where he was in love with Zoe since they were kids. Brock and I are just starting out. We need time to evolve.”
He scrunched his eyebrows. “You’re not a couple of relics from the dinosaur age trying to evolve into the modern world. You’re a young, vibrant couple in a relationship with loads of potential.”
“What makes you so sure that Brock is the one for me?”
His expression grew tender. “It’s written all over your face.”
She rocked back, not liking that she was so transparent. “Really?”
“I know you care about him deeply, and that’s saying a lot. You’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”
Her eyes misted as she hugged her arms and blinked rapidly. Dad knew her too well. “It’s true,” she admitted.
“Don’t look so forlorn. This should be one of the happiest times of your life.”
“Yeah,” she sighed.
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