Page 3 of Aisle Be The Groom (Bristlecone Springs #1)

GRAY

T he Ford rumbled under us as I steered it down the highway, the scent of leather filling the cab. Next to me, Ozzie sat with a puzzle book long forgotten on his lap. He stared out the window with rapt fascination, although there was nothing much to see except endless stretches of sparsely populated rangeland. We’d left Denver behind long ago, and the rest of the journey to Bristlecone Springs should have been uninspiring for someone who lived in the big city.

Occasionally, a farmhouse or a spike of cacti popped up, breaking the monotony of the scenery. Ozzie, however, seemed to find something captivating in the simplicity of it all. Perhaps it was the way the light played over the landscape or the sense of freedom that came with being on the open road.

Whatever it was, he seemed to have forgotten that for one inappropriate minute, I’d complimented his ass. The comment had been pure reflex and meant absolutely nothing. Still, it had taken me by surprise, so what must he think of me?

Thankfully, the second I turned on the truck, the radio blasted a Willie Nelson song that put the possibility of conversation between us to bed. I welcomed the song to distract me from the uncomfortable silence that had followed my bizarre comment.

“Look at that hawk!” Ozzie was practically pressing his face to the window. He seemed so excited over something as small as a hawk. At least he seemed to have forgotten about my faux pas.

I turned down the radio. “Guess ya don’t see hawks too much in the city, do you?”

“Try never.” He sat back and flashed me a smile, which dimpled his cheeks. Just like I remembered from last Christmas. Pascal had kept him entertained, making him laugh, and I’d been just as fascinated by those dimples. “This is so cool.”

“Cool? It’s an endless stretch of barren land.”

“Is that a bad thing? Because after all the lights, buildings, cars, and people, this seems so peaceful. I love it!”

“You do?” I would never have expected that from him. Carter had grown up in Bristlecone Springs, but he couldn’t stand how far it was from bigger towns.

“Yes. When Carter and I drove here last Christmas, it was so late I didn’t get to appreciate it much. I’m glad I get to see it in the day again.”

“You don’t blame me for insisting you hold the wedding at the ranch, then?”

He sat back in the seat and picked up the book in his lap. “To be honest, I found it odd you wanted us to have the wedding here, but I’m not mad about it. You’re paying for it after all.”

“It’s not me wanting to control the wedding because I’m paying for it,” I said gently. “Everything is up to you, and I promise not to interfere.”

Silence stretched between us. He inclined his head. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you insist on us having the ceremony in Bristlecone Springs? You must know Carter isn’t too fond of the town.”

“Since you asked so plainly, I’ll be honest. I rarely see my son. Now that he’s getting married, I can’t help but think I’ll never see him anymore.”

“Ah, so you wanted the wedding here to get closer to him?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not turning out well, is it? Carter isn’t here, nor is he coming tomorrow like he said he would. Will he even make it for the wedding?”

Alarm speared through me, and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “You think there’s a possibility the wedding won’t happen?”

“It’s just…” He slapped his hands to his cheeks. “God, what am I saying? I just have butterflies, is all. The Wedding Whisperer says it’s normal.”

“Wedding Whisperer?” I shot him a glance, then switched my attention back to the road.

“Yeah. They’re a genius with weddings. They have a podcast and a blog, talking about all things regarding engagements, weddings, honeymoons, and making relationships last. I’ve been listening to them since I was sixteen.”

“You’ve been listening to them that long?”

“Hmm. It all started when my moms got remarried. I helped them put together their wedding, and since, I’ve become a huge fan.”

“Interesting.” I didn’t know any man who thought about weddings that much. Hell, if Emma hadn’t pressured me into it, I likely wouldn’t have made the step, but she’d given me an ultimatum. I didn’t want to lose her, ?and the rest was history. We should have spent more time getting to know each other before we made the enormous leap, though. By the time I realized she longed for the city and detested everything about the ranch, it had been too late. We’d tried for so long to make it work until one day we just stopped trying. It was better this way, her enjoying her life in the city and me having my ranch.

“The ranch is huge,” I said. “You can look around and decide where the best spot is for you.”

“That sounds great. I’ve always wanted a beach wedding, but I’m sure this will be just as nice.”

A beach wedding. When was the last time I’d gone to the beach? Too many people, and it all seemed so superficial. The hot spring and the river on the ranch were perfect for me.

“Now I feel I should apologize for taking that dream away from you.”

“Oh no! Please don’t think that way, especially since you have a good reason. Though your plan hasn’t started very well, but I’m sure Carter will be here soon. After all, the wedding is in three weeks .”

“Three weeks is a long time to spend in Bristlecone Springs if you’re not used to small-town life. Even our guests who love staying on the ranch eventually want to return to the city.”

“Guests?”

“From May to September, we open the ranch to visitors and operate as a dude ranch. We show folks what it’s like to live the cowboy life. Riding, roping, branding, campfire songs, the whole nine yards.”

“Wow. Carter has never mentioned it. In fact, he doesn’t talk about the ranch at all.”

I inhaled deeply to ease the ache in my chest. “Thankfully, my other son, Matty, takes to the land like a duck to water. Otherwise, it would be a real shame not to have anyone who will care about the land after I’m gone.”

“How long has the ranch been in your family?”

I filled in Ozzie on the history of the Bristle M Ranch, stretching back to the late 1800s when my great-great-grandfather staked his claim. He’d been on the run, traveling from the East Coast to the untamed West, armed with nothing but a shady past, determination, and foolhardy ambition.

Ozzie listened keenly, asking questions that made it clear he was interested in everything I had to say. I’d tried explaining the legacy of the land to Carter once, and he’d brushed it all aside and asked how much the whole operation was worth. Maybe if I couldn’t get through to Carter, I could to Ozzie, and he would steer Carter in the right direction.

My greatest fear was dying and him wanting to sell his share of the land. In the late nineties, we’d already lost a portion of the land to Pascal’s family because my brother had sold his share. Luckily, Pascal and I were close, and he had no children, so he hadn’t hesitated to sell it back to me when he moved to Florida.

“That’s amazing,” Ozzie said, his voice full of awe. “I don’t even know who my father is, let alone if my family has any interesting history. It’s great what you’re passing on to your sons, and I don’t mean just the land but also the hard work, accomplishments, and pride of the family.”

I tore my eyes from the road and looked at Ozzie, who wore a sweet smile. By god, he got in a few minutes what I had been trying to get Carter to understand all his life.

“You know what, Ozzie? I think you’re an excellent match for my son.”

The rest of the ride went without a hitch. Ozzie asked me about the ranch, and I might have given him way more information than necessary, but he didn’t seem to mind. He never interrupted, never steered the conversation in another direction, and had his eyes on me all the time, as if he wanted to take every word out of my mouth.

When we finally rode into town, I was surprised at how fast the time had flown by. I’d been dreading the trip, driving for so long with someone I didn’t know, but Ozzie had made it pleasant. He was a nice young man. I’d already sensed it when he risked his neck to bring me gifts last Christmas, but the ride had confirmed it.

The least I could do for him was to give him an amazing wedding experience on the ranch, since I’d taken his beach wedding dream from him.

I’ll give him a wedding that’s much better than any beach.

“We’re here,” I said as we drove down the dusty main street of Bristlecone Springs. Rustic storefronts lined the street. We passed the modest courthouse and the market.

“Is that… a saloon?” Ozzie pointed to a weathered wooden building with swinging doors and faded print. An old-fashioned sign rocked in the late afternoon breeze above the entrance proclaiming “The Rusty Nugget.”

“It is. The saloon and the courthouse are the two oldest buildings in town.”

“Wow.”

“You can ask Carter to bring you by when he gets here.”

“I’m not one for drinking. I’m a lightweight, but I’d love to see inside sometime.”

“You just need some practice, that’s all.” I pulled up to the feed store, a weathered building with worn paint and an antique charm. “I’m sorry, but I have to pick up some supplies for the horses. It won’t take long, but if you want, you can go to the diner and grab something to eat or drink. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

“Maybe after. I am hungry, but it can wait. I can help.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“All right, then.” The more time I spent with Ozzie, the more I liked him. Carter would never have volunteered to step foot inside the feed store with me.

We made our way to the store, my boots crunching on the gravel. Ozzie was wearing fancy-looking sneakers that laced up to his ankles.

“Did you bring boots?” I held the door open for him.

He ducked under my arm. “No. Should I have?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get you a pair. They’re essential around here.”

The smell of horse feed and leather tack filled my nostrils, giving me the familiarity of home. Ozzie walked beside me, his eyes wide as he took in the rows of horseshoes, bags of feed, saddles, and endless other ranch supplies.

“Wow. I’ve never been into one of these stores,” he whispered.

“It’s everything you need to keep a ranch running.”

“But isn’t your ranch huge? Can a small feed store keep it sustained?”

“It might be a little more expensive, but we think it’s important to stimulate the local economy, so we always use Bristlecone Tack & Feed.”

“And for that, we are grateful.” Hank, a medium-built man wearing glasses and a cowboy hat, appeared from behind a pile of stacked hay bales, wiping his hands on a faded blue apron. He walked over with a friendly smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Gray, have you brought us another customer?” He swept his gaze over Ozzie.

I chuckled and placed a hand on the small of Ozzie’s back, propelling him forward. A tremor shot through him. Or was that my imagination? I cleared my throat. “I’m afraid just my business will have to do for now. This is my soon-to-be son-in-law, Ozzie. Carter’s fiancé.”

“Ah, I heard you were having a big shindig wedding at the ranch, but I didn’t believe it for a second. I thought, when did Matty start to give attention to anything else but that ranch?” He cackled. “Now I see. It’s Carter who’s getting married.” He held out a hand to Ozzie. “Nice to meet you, son. I’m Hank, and you’re marrying into one of the finest families you ever could.”

“Nice to meet you too, Hank,” Ozzie said almost shyly. “I agree. Mr. Magnuson has been wonderful.”

I groaned and nudged him in the back. “What did I say about calling me Mr. Magnuson?”

“We ain’t much for formality around these parts,” Hank said. “Did you want anything more, Gray, or can the guys load the truck?”

“How about some boots?” I asked. “Ozzie needs a pair.”

Hank stared at Ozzie’s feet. “What size are you?”

“Nine and a half.”

“We don’t carry many in your size, but I reckon we can find something.”

“Good, add it to my bill when you invoice me. Ozzie, go with Hank. I’ll help load the truck.”