2. Haven

Chapter 2

Haven

M aeve enjoyed being surrounded by her dear family and friends that evening, yet had a brief moment of doubt the wedding reception would ever come to an end. Nearly all had a toast to make, each full of well wishes that warmed her heart and brought a smile to her face.

Even Sadie, their loyal customer of the coffee shop, had kind words to offer. They were punctuated by a loud bark from her enormous chocolate labrador, Bosco.

“Bosco!” she shouted.

“He was on the guest list,” Maeve shrugged. “Might as well give him a chance to give a toast, too.”

Another loud bark echoed from the kitchen, causing everyone to chuckle.

“Dozer agrees,” Dallas beamed.

“All right, now that everyone’s had a chance to speak — including the dogs,” Oakleigh quipped, taking her place at the microphone. Charming an audience was second nature to the young woman gifted with a magnetic personality. “One more toast, and then we’ll let these two escape for the night.” Winking at Maeve, she propped her phone on the table and tapped record.

Maeve didn’t even have the energy to raise an eyebrow. She simply offered a smile, her eyes glowing with gratitude as she took a sip of coffee from her mug.

“Nearly all of us have a Maeve story,” she began. “Whether she’s put a roof over your head or invited you to her table for a warm meal. Most likely, she’s brewed the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had in your life.”

A low chuckle was heard across the living room.

“For me,” Oakleigh’s eyes misted over, “it was all of those things and more.”

Maeve felt tears gather in the corners of her eyes as Oakleigh spoke. Right when she needed it most, Dallas took her hand and rubbed her palm gently with his thumb.

“Maeve has been like a mother when I needed guidance,” Oakleigh said, “a sister when I needed encouragement, and most importantly — a best friend.” She inhaled deeply. “Thank you for showing me what it means to be a part of a family.”

“Now to Dallas.” Oakleigh quipped, giving him a broad smile. “You were the missing piece to Maeve, and you completed our mismatched puzzle here at Callaway Ranch,” she said, raising her glass high. “I cannot wait to put you to work around here, sir.” She offered him an obnoxious grin, “I hate to break it to you, but you’ll have to start where we all did — mucking stalls.”

Maeve leaned her head on Dallas’ shoulder as he chuckled warmly, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

They raised their glasses in a final toast, and Oakleigh picked up her phone to tap away at her screen. Even though Maeve didn’t enjoy the thought of Oakleigh’s enormous social media following getting a glimpse at their special day, she knew it was the high cost of having an influencer under her roof.

Late into the evening, their guests finally began trickling out. The newlyweds took their places near the entryway. Maeve gave out hugs while Dallas offered firm handshakes to each of their dear friends.

Audrey, their faithful coffee shop barista, slipped past with her eyes full of tears.

“You okay, Audrey?” Maeve asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

“It’s all just so beautiful,” Audrey sobbed. “I just hope I get this someday.” Her eyes drifted to Sawyer, who noticeably focused his attention on anyone but her.

Oakleigh put her arm around Audrey’s shoulder and shuffled her to the door. “Audrey, we’ve been over this,” she lectured. “You and Sawyer went on like three dates. ”

The last dwindling guests made their way to their cars, signaling the reception had come to an end. June emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishrag.

“Guess it’s about time you both hit the road,” June said, raising a sharp eyebrow.

Maeve knew they would do everything possible to keep her from assisting in the extensive cleanup.

“June,” Maeve protested with a shake of her head. “You know I’m not going to leave all this for you.”

June and Oakleigh exchanged a conspiratorial glance, and Maeve knew she would inevitably lose if the two strong personalities allied against her.

“Maeve, it’s your wedding night, and I planned a magical week for you,” Oakleigh said, crossing her arms. “ Don’t ruin it.”

It was clear that the stubborn young woman would have the final word – this time.

Maeve felt Dallas’ arm around her waist.

“You’re outvoted,” he whispered, appearing quite pleased she had lost the argument. It was a look that drove a smile to her face.

She gave him a slight eye roll but finally conceded, “Let’s go.”

Stepping out onto the front porch, Maeve intertwined her fingers with his. “Oh yeah, one more thing,” she announced. “I got you a little something.”

Dallas blinked slowly as though he were trying to comprehend the sight of his brand new, gunmetal gray truck parked in the driveway. Sawyer clapped him firmly on the back and dropped the key fob into his hand.

“Welcome to the family, Dal,” Sawyer grinned.

Dallas stammered, “You didn’t have to do this.”

Maeve gave his hand a squeeze. “Does it make you happy?” She scanned his reaction, hoping the extravagant gift wasn’t too much. To her relief, a smile burst across his lips.

“You make me happy,” he whispered. He took Maeve in his arms and pulled her close.

Oakleigh obnoxiously cleared her throat. “There’s a woman at the bed and breakfast who sounds about ninety years old,” she declared. “And she’s waiting up to check you in — so if you can save it ’til then, I’m sure she wants to sleep sometime tonight.”

Maeve bit her lower lip, struggling to stifle her amusement. Leaning back into Dallas’ strong embrace, she whispered, “I think that’s a nice way of telling us to get a room.”

Oakleigh raised an eyebrow. “You have a room. It’s three hours that way,” she prodded, pointing toward the highway. “Now hit the road.”

Dallas packed the truck with their luggage and climbed into the driver’s seat. There was one last thing Maeve needed to do before relinquishing to Oakleigh’s stern demands. She went to the porch where the young woman was leaning her shoulder on a post, patiently waiting to see them off.

“This was exactly the wedding I dreamed of,” she said, pulling Oakleigh into one last tight hug. When she stepped away, Maeve couldn’t help but notice her swipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

Oakleigh shrugged. “It’s the least I could do.”

Maeve settled into the comfortable leather passenger seat, letting the hum of the engine lull her to sleep after the seemingly endless day. It was finally just the two of them winding up the dark mountain road. Laying her head on Dallas’ muscular bicep, she felt blissfully happy.

She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to ranch business, reminding her that their vacation wasn’t only for pleasure. She had strategically planned to attend a cattle auction near the mountain resort town where they were staying. She and Sawyer had been eyeing a young heifer that would be an excellent match for Lil’ Slim. It was vital to always be looking ahead, adding to their herd of prize-winning, fierce bucking bulls. Keeping Callaway Ranch the industry standard for rodeo was her top priority.

As though he could sense her mind churning, Dallas took Maeve’s hand, lightly toggling the ring on her finger. He moved his hand to her thigh, causing her heart to pound. Feeling the warmth of his touch, she turned her thoughts to the night ahead of them.

The drive was long and quiet, and they simply enjoyed each other’s closeness. Their truck was the only one on the road when they finally pulled into the picturesque mountain town of Alcott Ridge.

Throughout the planning process, Maeve had harped that she would be perfectly fine with a standard hotel, but now she felt grateful that she had lost that particular debate. It was evident what had drawn Oakleigh to book the room at the charming bed and breakfast. The crisp mountain air held rich notes of cedar and pine, and the wooden sign out front read Rustic Haven Inn. A quaint lamppost dimly illuminated the path to the two-story house surrounded by woods.

“I guess we’re here,” Dallas announced, shifting the truck into park.

Before he could step out, she reached for him, not wanting him to leave her side.

“You all right, darlin?” he asked.

She nodded.

Pull it together, Maeve. You’re almost fifty, not fifteen.

She nervously ran her palms over her jeans and straightened the soft fabric of her button-up shirt. It wasn’t the first time she had been with a man, but it would be the first time for her and Dallas.

He went around to her door and lifted the latch, pulling it open for her. The moment she stepped onto the pavement, she thankfully found herself again in his arms. She clasped his hand as he ran his fingers across her cheek, turning to caress them with her soft lips. The gentleness of his touch contrasted his sturdy, muscular frame, which he had maintained since his days in rodeo. She felt comfortably at home in her nearness to him.

My husband.

Everything about it felt right.

“Maeve,” he whispered, kissing her brow.

“Mmhmm?” she hummed.

He ran his fingers through her brown locks. “We better go check in.”

Dallas pulled the luggage strap over his shoulder and took her by the hand, leading her up the steps to the lobby of the inn. When they stepped inside, she realized that Oakleigh had not been exaggerating about the age of the woman patiently waiting for them behind the desk.

“I’m sorry if we kept you waiting,” Maeve apologized.

The woman’s wrinkled mouth creased into a smile. “You must be the newlyweds, no worries at all.” She pointed at her nametag. “I’m Barb. You let me know if there’s anything you need.” Flipping the thick guest book around on the desk, she handed Dallas a pen.

“Go ahead and sign in,” she instructed.

Barb squinted to read their names as he scribbled them across the lined paper.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilder?”

“Well, actually, she’s Callaway Wilder,” Dallas quickly corrected. “I’ll fix it.”

“Leave it, Dal. I’m sure it’s fine,” Maeve interjected, giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow .

Barb simply waved away his concern. “Everyone’s doing things a little different these days. No business of mine.”

“I suppose it’ll take me a bit to get used to all this,” he said, taking in a sharp breath.

Maeve wrapped her arm around his middle. She pulled him in close and leaned her head on his shoulder, hoping to subdue his nerves.

“You all come down when you’re ready for breakfast,” Barb said with a sly wink, handing Dallas the room key. “No rush.” She paused, raising her finger as she remembered one last tidbit of information. “And the bossy little thing that booked the room told me to remind you two to stay busy, but no ranch business until Friday.” Barb raised an eyebrow. “And she sounded like she meant it.”

Maeve’s face flashed hot as a flush crept across her cheeks. Dallas let out a burst of laughter, which thankfully filled the corners of her embarrassment.

Leading her by the hand up the stairs and down the hall to their room, he fumbled with the key. She placed her hand on his, steadying him as he twisted the doorknob open with a loud click.

Maeve went to the bedside table and pulled the metal chain on the lamp, illuminating their rustic, modern farmhouse-style room. She sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the soft quilt under her fingers. Dallas set their luggage on the floor near a wooden chest of drawers.

They were finally alone .

The two were rarely short on words, but there was a quietness that had draped over them. Dallas combed his fingers through his beard as if strategizing on just what to say. His boots clacked loudly on the hardwood floor as he came around the bed. Sitting beside her, he took her hand and gently kneaded the soft middle of her palm with his thumb.

“Maeve,” he began. “I want you to know that we can take things as slow as you need,” he stumbled uncharacteristically for the well-spoken cowboy preacher. “Truth is,” his words quickened. “If I can just hold you close all night long, that’s enough for me.”

Maeve knew that she could never love him more than she did then. Feeling tears fill her eyes, she closed them tightly, doing everything she could to avoid spoiling the moment between them. Dallas had patiently protected her heart, taking her every burden as though it were his own, and had shared his hopes and dreams of their future together.

He was her person.

She felt him lift her chin and wipe away a rebellious tear with the rough pad of his thumb.

“I really mean it, Maeve,” he emphasized. “We can take things slow.”

She ran her hands across his chest until her fingers arrived at the fabric of his shirt collar. Laying across the bed, she savored the dash of surprise in his eyes, pulling him close until she felt the warmth of his lips again on hers.

“I don’t want to take things slow.”