Read Firelight at Mustang Ridge for Free Online Page B

Skye and several of the barn staffers were going to town with two-by-fours and a framing nail gun, Sam said, “What’s going on over there? You having problems with the pavilion?”
    Wyatt didn’t quite roll his eyes. “Rose decided it wasn’t big enough for the wedding.”
    Sam frowned down at the round structure, which was the epicenter of the Friday-night outdoor barbecues that Krista, Gran, and the others threw as a farewell for the guests of each themed week. Some fifty feet away, Ed and Junior were leveling off a new support beam. “How big does it need to be to hold you and Krista, the JP, and a couple of groomsmen and bridesmaids?” A daunting thought occurred. “Did you guys decide to expand things into one of those three-ring-circus deals?”
    That got an emphatic “Hell, no.”
    â€œPhew. For a second there, I was picturing a dozen bridesmaids in sparkly pink dresses, and me, Nick, and Foster standing up there with all seven of the Lemp brothers and whoever else you could round up, the whole lot of us wearing glittery bow ties and suspenders to match the bridesmaids’ outfits. Not that I wouldn’t man up, mind you. For you and Krista, whatever it takes. But I’m really not a sparkly-pink-cummerbund kind of guy.”
    â€œTempting, but no. It’s just you, Nick, and Foster on the guy’s side, and Jenny and Shelby on the girl’s side, pick your own clothes. Lucky for you, Krista stood up to her mom on that one, or you might’ve been in a cummerbund, or worse.”
    Not wanting to know what counted as worse than a
My Pretty Pony
–pink cummerbund, Sam said, “Then what’s with the pavilion?”
    â€œRose is afraid that it’ll rain during the ceremony, so she wants to extend the roof to cover the guests.” Wyatt shot him a
don’t say it
look.
    Unable not to, Sam said, “She knows we’re in themiddle of the worst drought in twenty-some years, right? And that it hasn’t rained more than a dribble since May?”
    â€œWhen you’re living on the same property as your in-laws, you learn to pick your battles,” Wyatt said drily. “Especially when your mother-in-law-to-be is the resident events coordinator, interior decorator, and unofficial wedding planner.”
    â€œA deadly trifecta.”
    â€œOnly if a guy is inclined to argue.” Wyatt stretched his arms behind him and leaned back on the picnic table. “Which I’m not. You said it yourself—whatever Krista wants, she gets. I’m getting what I want, which is her and Abby Rose. Why shouldn’t Krissy get everything she wants, too?”
    Sam would’ve ribbed him about turning into a giant sap, except it was actually kind of nice to see the big guy go down so hard. “Well, hell. Looks like you’ve got yourself a pavilion-on-steroids, then. Maybe next season you could turn it into a covered horseshoe pit.”
    â€œI was thinking of a bowling alley. Great minds.”
    â€œI’m starving. Is my face patched up enough to brave the dining hall?”
    â€œLet me throw on a couple of Band-Aids first. And if I could make a suggestion? You should come up with a better story than the attack of the killer paperback. Tell people you got caught in an avalanche, maybe, or a stampede.”
    Sam glared at Mr. Enjoying-This-Way-Too-Much. “I don’t need a story—I got the cut galloping through the trees to save Mustang Ridge from looking like the Sears place.”
    Wyatt sobered. “Thanks for that, by the way. Seriously. This is . . .” He looked around, from the guest cabins near the lake, up to the barns and the main house. “It matters. It’s home. I could live without it—we all could if we had to. But I’d hate to have to.” And coming from a guy who hadn’t stayed in the same place for more than a few months at a time before he arrived in Three