That was ambitious, but Aurora admired a person who knew what she wanted. “You’re spending your wedding night here or in Billings?”
“Here. This is home.”
“Owen knows about all of these future babies?”
“It was his idea.” Meg laughed. And blushed.
“Maybe my new addition will be finished for the baby shower,” Aurora mused. “If the weather’s nice we can open up the new patio.”
“I want to see those plans,” Meg said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve decided.”
“After the honeymoon,” Aurora promised.
Meg shuddered. “You and Lucia are really brave. I’m not sure I could take that kind of mess around me. Just the cleaning and painting in this house has been more than enough work.”
They reached the tent, where Loralee waved anxiously. “Come on,” she called. “We’re ready for the toast!”
Aurora followed Meg inside, then hurried over to the young men in charge of opening the champagne. Meg and Owen had wisely decided that would be the only alcohol at the party, considering that it was a family-oriented event and that most people had to drive ninety miles back to town.
“We’ll do it outdoors,” Owen said, coming up to give Meg a kiss and a glass of champagne. “And then everyone can help themselves to food.”
Lucia met them just outside the tent. “We’re ready!”
Aurora stood to the side and watched the happy couple accept congratulations from the crowd.
“Here,” Jerry said, stepping next to her. He handed her a percussion triangle and a beater. “Hit this, will you? It’s to call in the cowboys.”
“You must be joking.” She dangled the large triangle from its chain.
“No. Hit it as hard as you want. Take out all of your anger and aggression,” he said, looking out at the groups of people walking toward them across the lawn. “No doubt it will be good for you.”
“I’ll pretend it’s your head,” she said sweetly.
* * *
JAKE ENDED UP sitting inside the tent at a table with his brother, Sam’s fiancée, her three children, Mrs. Swallow, Winter and the gorgeous Aurora Jones.
An odd assortment of wedding guests, he mused. But he liked looking across the table at the three little boys sitting next to his brother. Oddly enough, Aurora sat to his left and Winter to his right. Lucia sat next to Winter and engaged her in a discussion about school in France. It seemed that Lucia had attended a baking school in Paris one summer and spoke some French. Winter chattered away as if she’d known the woman forever.
Jake hoped his daughter wouldn’t bring up the severe psychological issues revelation again.
Sam happily surveyed the mound of assorted food on his plate. “This town sure has its share of good cooks.”
“You like it here, then.”
“You will, too,” his brother assured him. “How long can you stay?”
“I haven’t decided. We’re taking our time, getting to know each other.”
“And her mother?”
“Died.”
Sam stopped chewing and stared at him. As did Aurora. Jake looked over to make sure that his daughter was engrossed in her conversation with Lucia. He lowered his voice. “I only found out two weeks ago. It took a while to get the paperwork squared away so she could come here. There was a stepfather, but he wasn’t involved in her life.”
“And you didn’t know anything about her?” This question came from his brother.
“No,” he admitted. “I had no clue. It was a short marriage, and she left me to go back home to France. I figure she wanted out of the marriage and if I had known about the baby, things would have become very complicated.” And Merry didn’t do complicated. She had been a free spirit, a beauty whose smile gave her everything she wanted. And when she didn’t want Jake any more, she left.
Sam put down his fork and studied his brother. “But you have her now. And that’s a good thing.”
“For me,” Jake said. “But I don’t think Winter thinks she got a very good deal.”
“Then you’ll have to prove yourself,” Aurora said. “You’ll have to prove you’re good enough to be her father.”
“I don’t have to prove anything,” he all but snapped. “I’m already her father.”
“Biologically,” the irritating woman said. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does to me,” Jake retorted, turning toward her.
She blinked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Hey,” Sam interjected. “You’re both right. This isn’t going to be easy, but you’re Winter’s father now. You’re all she has.”
“And I’m scared to death.” He didn’t care if the woman next to him heard it.
“You’ll do good,” Sam assured him. “I’m still learning how this parent business works, but it’s a pretty good deal.”
Aurora faced Winter. “Do you think you’d like to stay here for a little while and visit with your new family?”
Winter considered the question carefully while Jake listened for the answer. He had no idea what she would say. “Well, I’d like to stay and learn to ride Mr. MacGregor’s horses, but my mother died and now Jake is stuck with me and we’re going to Nashville.”
“I am not stuck—”
“You are,” she interrupted. “But it’s not your fault.” She looked up at her uncle. “Have you ever been to Nashville?”
“I have not,” he replied. “But we’ll certainly visit you there.”
“You will?”
He smiled. “Of course. All of us. Maybe we’ll get to hear your dad sing somewhere.”
Jake laughed. “Are you forgetting how my guitar made you crazy when you were a kid?”
“It was pretty bad at first,” Sam admitted. “But you got better at it.”
“I’d like to stay here, but just for a little while,” Winter told Aurora. “I’m in no hurry to go to a new school.”
“That’s right,” Aurora said in realization. “You should be in school.”
“I’ll need to take a placement test for seventh grade, but there shouldn’t be any problem. I excelled in everything at Lady Pettigrew’s.”
“Really? Everything?”
“Well,” she said, looking down at the fried chicken on her plate. “Except deportment.”
“Now, that runs in the family,” Jake muttered, glancing toward Sam.
* * *
“DID YOU BRING your shotgun?” Jake thought that was about as good an opening line he’d ever used, but Aurora Jones looked less than impressed.
“Please,” she drawled. “Don’t bother flirting.”
He wasn’t even thinking of flirting, not really. He couldn’t help looking at her, though. And wanting to tease her until she relented a bit and smiled at him. “You’re a beautiful woman. Why isn’t flirting allowed? Are you married? Engaged? In a relationship with the local sheriff? What?”
“You can forget