Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 57897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“And each one of us has had a glass before our weddings,” Deacon said. “Now it’s your turn.”
“You guys are too much.” I shook my head as Gerard pulled out a handful of whiskey glasses from a bag he carried inside.
“To family,” Carter said. “The ones you are born with and the ones you choose.”
“To family,” we all repeated and took a deep sip. It was incredible, just like my luck in finding myself here and with Beth Ann.
Twenty minutes later, I was standing at the altar, Carter behind me and my friends in the rows of spectators as Beth Ann came down the aisle, looking like the closest thing to an angel I had ever seen. I smiled, and Beth Ann smiled back.
The family you are born to, and the family you choose.
Beth Ann was the family I chose. I would choose her every day for the rest of my life.
EPILOGUE
BETH ANN
As the deep orange glow of the late-autumn sunset flowed across the pumpkin patch, it was hard to believe it had already been six months since our wedding. I was still fully in the throes of being a newlywed, relishing being a wife and finding as many ways as possible to savor it. The people at the coffee shop were still laughing at me, but I was not above using my newfound “Mrs.” title on the side of my coffee cup rather than just telling them my first name. Not that they needed it since they saw me all the time.
They were actually the first ones to recognize something had changed about me in the last few weeks. Going in for coffee and a croissant in the mornings when I needed to run errands in town was a ritual of mine and something that happened at least a few times a week. It was so frequent that I could just walk into the shop and whoever was behind the counter at the time would smile and wave, then start pouring out my drink. Half the darkest roast they carried and half a caramel-flavored roast.
That was why they were surprised a couple of weeks before when I went in and walked up to the counter to make my order rather than just heading for the cash register. I ordered decaf with some caramel creamer to make up for the lost flavor. The owner of the shop happened to be there that morning and looked at me across the counter with a raised eyebrow.
“Decaf?” she asked. “You want decaf?”
I nodded. “I’m trying to cut back. All that dark roast is probably not great for my heart.”
It probably wasn’t the best argument I could have made considering I only had a cup of it a day, maybe two if it was a particularly stressful day of work at the farm. Besides, she and I had already had a long conversation about how it was a myth that dark roasts of coffee have more caffeine in them than lighter roasts. In fact, the darker the roast, the less caffeine was actually in them. She knew something was up. But I stuck to my guns, and she eventually let it drop.
But that wasn’t going to last much longer. I looked up at Jason and smiled, then turned my attention back to the last couple of families who were roaming around the pumpkin patch looking for their perfect pumpkin. Halloween was only a week away, and there was a little chill in the air. This was my favorite time of year, even more now that I was living in Ashford.
Fall was beautiful anywhere, but it was particularly gorgeous here in the mountains. All around us, the trees were splashed in shades of orange, red, and gold. The foliage had reached its peak a little earlier in the month, but plenty of the wonderful colors were still holding on. It created a glorious backdrop from the farm, and I’d noticed a lot of families posing for photos in matching outfits. I could only imagine a good number of those pictures were going to end up gracing Thanksgiving cards this year.
The crisp coolness of the air was complemented by the smell of warm spices and hot apple cider. Because of the location of the pumpkin patch, we’d added a snack booth a short distance away so families could enjoy hot cider, apple doughnuts, roasted corn, and a couple of other treats when they got off the hayride to the pumpkins or while they were waiting with their finds to head back up to the front of the farm.
Since it was close to closing time and there weren’t any more wagon rides coming through, the girl working in the snack booth was shutting down. She called out to Jason that there was still some cider and a couple of doughnuts left. He went over and got one for each of us, telling her she should bring the rest home with her to share with her boyfriend.