A caterer from Colorado Springs brought tables, folding chairs, food, drink, floral arrangements, decorative candles, linens. Enid insisted she could make the wedding cake and it wasn’t exactly professional-looking, but it was unique—a two-tiered sheet cake with lots of fall leaves created out of frosting and food coloring. Maggie did not laugh, but she wanted to. There were no printed programs and the minister got his license on the internet. Jaycee Kent and Terry Jordan from the OR were the bridesmaids, Cal’s brother Dakota made the trip on short notice to be Cal’s best man, the other witness was Tom Canaday. Not to be left out, Sedona and her family flew to Denver and drove down to the barn for the festivities.
Aware that Cal kept in touch with Lynne’s parents, Maggie asked him if he had invited them and was rather surprised when he said he had. “They declined. They’re very happy for me and don’t want to distract me. But they’d love to meet you and asked if they could visit when we’re settled.”
“I’m sorry your father isn’t well enough to be here,” she said.
“We’ll send them lots of pictures. You’re beautiful,” he said.
“And you’re wearing that suit that makes me want to send everyone home early.”
Maggie wore a simple, short, ivory dress with lace sleeves and nude patent leather pumps. In the car were a couple of packed bags. After a night in Denver and brunch with Dakota, Sedona and her family, they’d be taking a short vacation to a warm, private resort in the Bahamas.
At a little before four in the afternoon, when the sun was casting long shadows over the Rockies, Cal and Maggie greeted their guests, introduced some of them to each other. Before long, the minister urged them to stand at the front of the barn under a beautiful fall wreath and he began. He talked very briefly about the great joy he felt in helping to bring people together in marriage. The usual vows were recited, some of them, anyway—Cal and Maggie wanted to do things their way.
“Maggie, until I met you, I was lost. There were so many times I asked myself what I would do next, where I would be, if there was anyone I could be right for. Then I met you and instantly loved you. Instantly. Those long talks by the fire, late at night, meant everything to me. The walks through the hills and valleys, not talking—everything. The evenings of intimacy when no words were needed, everything. Looking into the future with you, my heart is so full there’s no room for anything but promise. And I promise you a lifetime. The best I have.”
“And I promise you, California Jones, all the passion in my heart, all the joy in my being, all the laughter on a sunny day, all the thrill of day after day knowing we are one, that when my heart beats in my breast, it beats only for you. I love you. I promise you my life. The best I have.”
Aware that Cal kept in touch with Lynne’s parents, Maggie asked him if he had invited them and was rather surprised when he said he had. “They declined. They’re very happy for me and don’t want to distract me. But they’d love to meet you and asked if they could visit when we’re settled.”
“I’m sorry your father isn’t well enough to be here,” she said.
“We’ll send them lots of pictures. You’re beautiful,” he said.
“And you’re wearing that suit that makes me want to send everyone home early.”
Maggie wore a simple, short, ivory dress with lace sleeves and nude patent leather pumps. In the car were a couple of packed bags. After a night in Denver and brunch with Dakota, Sedona and her family, they’d be taking a short vacation to a warm, private resort in the Bahamas.
At a little before four in the afternoon, when the sun was casting long shadows over the Rockies, Cal and Maggie greeted their guests, introduced some of them to each other. Before long, the minister urged them to stand at the front of the barn under a beautiful fall wreath and he began. He talked very briefly about the great joy he felt in helping to bring people together in marriage. The usual vows were recited, some of them, anyway—Cal and Maggie wanted to do things their way.
“Maggie, until I met you, I was lost. There were so many times I asked myself what I would do next, where I would be, if there was anyone I could be right for. Then I met you and instantly loved you. Instantly. Those long talks by the fire, late at night, meant everything to me. The walks through the hills and valleys, not talking—everything. The evenings of intimacy when no words were needed, everything. Looking into the future with you, my heart is so full there’s no room for anything but promise. And I promise you a lifetime. The best I have.”
“And I promise you, California Jones, all the passion in my heart, all the joy in my being, all the laughter on a sunny day, all the thrill of day after day knowing we are one, that when my heart beats in my breast, it beats only for you. I love you. I promise you my life. The best I have.”
