Big Sky Summer Part 16

The piano went still, then started right up again.

Casey and Walker both turned to watch as Clare began her solo, a song Casey had written long ago, as a sort of lullaby for her children. Though it was about the forever kind of love, and not about sleeping, she'd sung those words to Clare and Shane a thousand times, on buses and airplanes and in backstage dressing rooms, always at bedtime.

Now, listening to Clare's beautiful voice, Casey thought she might just burst with love and pride, and she knew, after a sidelong glance his way, that Walker was feeling pretty much the same.

When the song ended, Clare took her place up front, next to Brylee, and Brylee wrapped an arm around her niece, gave her a squeeze and whispered something to her.

Casey felt an achy surge of love for both of them.

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion, in the midst of a silvery haze.

Reverend Beaumont made a little speech laced with Bible references but otherwise a blur, as far as Casey was concerned.

The usual questions were asked.

The usual vows were exchanged.

It never crossed Casey's mind to say anything but the expected "I wills" and "I dos," and Walker didn't hesitate, either. They slid matching gold bands onto each other's ring fingers when prompted.

And then the minister p.r.o.nounced them man and wife, and Walker, eyes twinkling, pulled Casey close and kissed her soundly-so soundly that, if he hadn't been holding her firmly by the waist, her knees might have buckled.

The guests cheered, and Shane, in a momentary lapse of preteen dignity, jumped high in the air, jamming one fist toward the ceiling, and yelled, "Yes!"

That made everybody laugh, including Casey, though she still felt like an actress, playing a part in a made-for-TV movie. Nothing seemed real-except for the echo of Walker's kiss, that is. Her mouth tingled at the recollection, and for a very long time afterward, even as the time-honored rituals continued.

Casey and Walker posed for photographs, endlessly, it seemed to her.

They cut the impressive cake Brylee had stayed up half the night to bake and decorate, and congratulations came from all sides. There was a group phone call from the guys in the band, all of them talking at once and finally coming together to sing a rowdy song that made Casey laugh and cry at the same time.

Even Mitch, who hadn't been in contact since he'd left Casey's place in a huff after she'd turned down his proposal, sent a short video, via Shane's cell, wishing the newlyweds well.

Casey was both pleased and touched, knowing Mitch's pride would have made the gesture difficult for him, to say the least. In a few days, she'd call her manager back and try to smooth things over. They'd been over b.u.mpy ground before-Mitch periodically threatened to resign and then changed his mind later-and Casey genuinely hoped this time would be no different from the others.

After the refreshments, the hugs and handshakes and digital photos, guests began to leave, a few at a time.

Dawson McCullough, dressed up in a suit, wheeled over to Casey and Walker and, with a big smile, congratulated them. Patsy, hovering behind his chair, said nothing, but added a shy nod of agreement. Walker and Shane followed them out, to help Dawson into the van and stow the wheelchair in back.

Glancing around, still trying to come to terms with the incomprehensible fact that she and Walker were really and truly married, Casey spotted Hutch and Brylee standing near the piano, talking earnestly.

Kendra appeared at Casey's side, watching the exchange with quiet approval.

"What's that about?" Casey asked, worried. When it came to Hutch Carmody, her otherwise amenable sister-in-law was notoriously stubborn and p.r.o.ne to making scenes.

Kendra took a sip of punch from the crystal gla.s.s she held in her right hand. Swallowed. "Some fence mending, I hope," she replied. "Hutch never wanted to hurt Brylee, and we've all been worried about her." A pause, during which Kendra's perfect eyebrows drew closer together for a moment in apparent consternation. "Plus, it's awkward. You and Joslyn and Tara and I are all friends, and now you're married to Walker, which means we'll all be running into each other even more often than before. Unless we all want to walk on eggsh.e.l.ls forever, somebody had to do something."

"You know what?" Casey said, touching her friend's arm. "You're amazing. A lot of women in your place wouldn't be so open-minded. Some of them might even be jealous."

Kendra smiled, serene as a Christmas-card Madonna. "There are a lot of uncertainties in this world," she responded, "but there's one thing I'm definitely sure of. Hutch Carmody loves me as much as I love him, and that isn't going to change."

Casey swallowed as, once again, the backs of her eyes stung with tears she wasn't about to shed. What would it be like, she wondered, to love a man like that, and be loved the same way in return? Kendra knew. So did Tara and Joslyn. Would it ever be that way for her?

Presently, Hutch left Brylee's side and came to collect Kendra. He kissed Casey's cheek, congratulated her one more time, and they left.

Casey waited a few beats, then made her way through the dwindling crowd to Brylee's side.

She was standing with her back to the room by then, gazing out the picture window toward the green hills, and Casey, looking at her sister-in-law in profile, saw a single tear slip down Brylee's cheek.

"I'm here," Casey said gently. Sometimes, that was all one person could offer another, just their presence.

"Thank you," Brylee answered with a sniffle. "I've been such a fool," she added softly, a few moments later.

"What do you mean?" Casey asked, frowning a little. Love was love, and even when it didn't end with happily-ever-after, it was nothing to be ashamed of.

Brylee surprised her then, turning her head to bestow a wide, watery smile. She seemed illuminated from the inside. "Hutch always said I was in love with love, not with him, and, finally, I believe him."

"He must have said something pretty special just now," Casey speculated.

Brylee laughed. "Not really," she replied happily. "He told me to grow up, stop feeling sorry for myself and get a life."

Casey's mouth fell open, just briefly. "And you didn't slap his face?"

Brylee was actually glowing. "No," she said. "Because I realized he was right on all counts. I also realized that, while he might be Kendra's Prince Charming, he's all wrong for me. Not exactly a frog, since there's no denying the man's easy on the eyes, but we'd have gone bust sooner or later, for sure, and we'd both have had a few warts and wounds to show for it."

Casey didn't know what to say, but she was stricken with admiration, and she supposed it showed, because Brylee gave her a quick hug and laughed again.

"Time to round up the kids and head for town," she said. "That menagerie of yours will be waiting at the ole mansion."

Brylee had offered to spend a few days at Casey's house, looking after Clare and Shane and the dogs and cats, so the bride and groom could be alone together, in lieu of a honeymoon.

Since the marriage was a matter of convenience, rather than mad, pa.s.sionate love, a part of Casey dreaded the moment when she and Walker were the last men standing-so to speak-but another part of her was intrigued, even eager.

"Give me a second with Clare first," she told Brylee, who nodded and went off to speak with the last of the departing guests.

Casey found her daughter sitting on the piano bench, idly plunking out the bare-bones version of "Heart and Soul" with one index finger. Considering that she could play Chopin without sheet music, not to mention a rendition of "Great b.a.l.l.s of Fire" that would have impressed Jerry Lee Lewis himself, Clare was playing for herself, not for anyone's entertainment.

Casey slid onto the bench beside her daughter and played the other half of the time-honored duet.

Clare glanced at her, smiled shyly and showed what she could do.

When the song ended, Walker, Brylee and Shane, standing in a semicircle behind Clare and Casey, applauded.

Casey leaned over, rested her forehead against Clare's and whispered, "No matter what, sweetheart, you'll always be my baby girl. Please don't forget that."

Clare's eyes filled with tears, and her smile dazzled. "I'm still pretty mad at you," she responded softly. "Will you still love me when I finally get over it?"

Casey kissed the girl's cheek with the kind of smack only a mom can get away with. "You can take it to the bank," she promised. "I will love you forever and ever."

Clare chuckled. "Amen," she said.

After that, Casey hugged Shane goodbye and reminded him to behave himself, and then Brylee herded her niece and nephew out of the house and into her SUV.

Only Casey and Walker remained once the door closed behind those three.

And, of course, Doolittle, who seemed relieved that things might be returning to normal.

With an audible sigh, the dog curled up in front of the cold fireplace, settled his bones and drifted off to sleep.

Walker chuckled, took Casey's hand and led her through the house to the kitchen, where she collapsed into a chair and kicked off her dress shoes.

"We did it," she said with a sigh comparable to Doolittle's.

Walker grinned, arched one eyebrow and undid his tie, then the top b.u.t.tons of his dress shirt. "Champagne, Mrs. Parrish?" he asked, lifting one of the half-filled bottles off the counter and holding it up for her inspection.

"Don't mind if I do, Mr. Parrish," Casey answered. She was accustomed to wearing either sneakers or boots, and those shoes had been pinching like crazy ever since she'd put them on.

He filled champagne flutes-plastic ones, from the supermarket-for both of them, carried them to the table.

After setting the gla.s.ses down, Walker sat, lifted one of Casey's feet onto his lap and began to ma.s.sage away the ache.

Casey groaned with pleasure. If the man was trying to seduce her, he was on the right track.

Walker chuckled, enjoying her reaction. "So what do we do now?" he asked lightly. "Play checkers? Watch TV? Build on a couple of bedrooms for the kids?"

Casey moaned again, but the sound was part laugh. Dear G.o.d, Walker's fingers were magic, and not just in bed. She'd forgotten how he could melt her simply by rubbing her feet. "For now," she replied in a near croon, eyes closed, "let's just keep doing this."

"I'm doing all the work," Walker complained with a smile in his voice. "You're just sitting there, shamelessly enjoying my husbandly attentions."

"Mmm," Casey agreed, almost floating.

After Walker had turned that foot into a quivering heap of jelly, he started in on the other one.

"Our daughter has quite a singing voice," he said. "Is she planning to follow in your ill.u.s.trious footsteps?"

Casey chortled without opening her eyes, even as she felt a mild pang of sadness. Clare was Walker's child, as much as her own, and there was so much he didn't know about her, or Shane, for that matter.

"No way," she answered. "Clare wants to be a veterinarian. She's had all the show business she wants for one lifetime."

"How about you?" Walker asked, with a deceptive note of nonchalance. "Where do you stand on the issue of show business, Casey Jones?"

Casey opened her eyes, studied him. She might be tired of the road, tired of waking up in one city and going to sleep in another, never quite sure which town was which, but she knew she'd never completely retire. Music was in her blood, and there were times when she needed to be onstage, needed to engage with an audience.

"Is it a deal breaker?" she asked. Her lifestyle, after all, was night-and-day different from Walker's. He liked ranch life, with the occasional rodeo thrown in for spice. And she liked singing, sometimes in church, sometimes in the shower and sometimes onstage in a sold-out arena.

"I'm not trying to close any doors in your face, Casey," Walker a.s.sured her quietly. "I'm just wondering how we're going to proceed from here, that's all. We haven't talked about that much."

"No," Casey agreed. "There's a lot we haven't talked about."

One corner of Walker's very inviting mouth quirked upward. "We're a pretty unconventional pair, I'll say that for us."

Casey nodded. "We are indeed," she agreed. "Any regrets, cowboy?"

"Only that we didn't do this sooner," he answered. He sighed. "Get married, I mean. Shane's all right with having an instant dad, at least on the surface, but Clare isn't planning on letting bygones be bygones anytime soon, as far as I can make out."

"You're right about that," Casey answered.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression wry. "Wait a minute," he joked. "Did I just hear you say I'm right about something?"

She laughed, which was ironic, since she was close to tears. "What if some woman comes along," she began, unable, for some reason, to keep from poking at her own sore places, "and you fall head-over-bootheels for her, and here you are, tied down with me?"

Walker's expression turned solemn, but a sparkle soon leaped into his eyes. "I don't foresee that happening," he drawled.

Casey's heart picked up a little speed. It wasn't an "I love you," but she was rea.s.sured anyway. Mustn't get too comfortable, though.

"We're not having s.e.x," she said.

Walker chuckled, shook his head. "h.e.l.l, woman," he said, "we're married, aren't we? Shouldn't some part of this crazy situation be fun?"

She pulled her foot from his lap, reached for her champagne flute and downed the lukewarm contents in a couple of gulps. Suddenly, she was all too conscious of the fact that they were alone in the house, and Walker was hot, and they were wearing each other's wedding bands.

Not to mention that his bed was just a few rooms away.

"Now what's gotten under your hide?" Walker asked, frowning.

"It's still light out," Casey said, ignoring his question. "If it's fun you want, let's saddle up a couple of horses and ride."

Maybe on horseback, she could behave herself. Outrun the temptation she was feeling now.

Why not just go to bed with Walker?

Because when Walker made love to her, she lost complete control, and that terrified her. She was all about living up to the image of Casey Elder she held in her mind, about standing strong, marching to her own drumbeat, setting goals and meeting them, making decisions and abiding by them. When she was in Walker's arms, she became another person entirely, a stranger, willing to bare her soul, show her deepest needs and emotions.

And that scared her half to death.

She waited for Walker's answer, knew that if he held her, or kissed her, or even started rubbing her feet again, for pity's sake, she'd be lost.

Finally, he sighed, shoved back his chair and stood.

"All right," he said, with more resignation than enthusiasm. "Let's change clothes and go saddle ourselves some horses."

The few things Casey had brought along were in a nearby guest room, still packed away in a small suitcase.

She went off to swap her wedding dress and pantyhose for jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and when she got back to the kitchen, Walker was already back from his own room, clad in regular clothes. He'd even had time to brew a cup of coffee, and he smiled over the rim before setting it aside on the counter.

His gaze glided over her, leaving fire in its wake.

"You sure do fill out a pair of jeans just right, Mrs. Parrish," he said.

Casey made a face, though she was secretly pleased by the compliment, as casual and offhand as it had been.