Shooter (Burnout) (51 page)

She was alone, looking out over the canyons and Chris felt a mix of desire, admiration, and joy every time he looked at her. He slid up behind her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Baby, are you sure about this?” he asked her again.

She half-turned to him and grinned. “Am I sure I want to marry you? Isn’t it a little late to ask me that?”

He grunted. “You’re definitely marrying me. There’s no getting out of it now. You said yes and you’re wearing my ring. So that’s all there is to that.”

“Oh. Good to know,” she replied, leaning back into him.

“But are you sure you don’t want a dress? A church? Warmer weather at the very least?” The Rapid City wind was playing nice today, thankfully, but it was still barely a notch above Cold.

Sarah laughed and put her hands over the tops of his. He wouldn’t say she didn’t look great, because she did. She was wearing a white sweater, jeans, and a pair of brand new boots. Her hair was a little longer now and the brown locks hung down past her shoulders. She’d taken off her coat for the ceremony.

She looked out over the Badlands, that rugged landscape that glowed pink and gold as the sun hovered over it. “I don’t need a dress,” she told him. “And this
is
our church. This is our place, Chris. We should only get married here. And I’m not waiting another minute to be your wife. I’ve wasted too much time already not doing the things I wanted to do.

She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “I’m marrying you,” she told him. “Today. Right now. And this morning I put purple sheets on our bed since we can’t paint the walls. And we’re not leaving that room for the foreseeable future, so it’s a damn good thing the fireplace works.”

A throat cleared beside them and they both turned to see the Pastor Chris had hired to officiate. Hawk, who was standing behind the minister, laughed.

“Did you write those vows yourself, Slick?” Jimmy teased. Sarah blushed furiously and ducked her head.

The small group assembled, the pastor with his back to the ancient canyons and the wedding party looking out over it. Sarah and Chris repeated the more traditional vows of love, honor, and cherish and if the bride’s mother was expecting the dress and church that the groom had offered earlier, she showed no signs of it. She only cried happy tears for her daughter and her new son in law.

************************

They gathered at Maria’s for the reception afterward. Chris had invited some of his friends from town. Hawk’s sister brought her two boys, as well. The jukebox wailed, and the champagne Sarah had provided flowed, even if Easy said stubbornly that draft was better and wouldn’t touch the “fruity” stuff. Sarah had made the food herself, in the bar’s kitchen, but bought the cake rather than making it because she was certain her culinary skills didn’t extend quite that far.

Milo wandered in, late, grabbed a beer, hugged Sarah and slapped Chris on the arm declaring, “Mission Accomplished” to Chris in hushed tones. Sarah looked at her new husband questioningly. Chris shrugged. “It’s nothing, baby.”

“It’s something,” Sarah argued.

Chris merely shrugged again.

When it grew dark outside, they stowed their gifts in the back seat of Chris’ Ford and headed toward home. Chris had offered a honeymoon. Anywhere in the world, he’d told her. But she shook her head and said she’d seen enough of other places for while. They could take vacations whenever they wanted for the rest of her lives, but to her, the only place she wanted to be was
home.

Chris carried her across the threshold when she got home again and she laughed. But she frowned when he shut the door. “The alarm isn’t set,” she told Chris.

He put her feet down on the floor. “That’s because I didn’t tell Milo the code.”

Sarah gaped at him for a moment. “Why was Milo here?” she asked him, looking around as though she could spot the answer.

“I got you a wedding gift,” Chris confessed.

Sarah stopped and turned back to him. “Really?”

He grinned at her. “Yep. I had Milo come in while we were gone to do some surprise decorating.”

Sarah looked around more excitedly. “Where? What?” she demanded, thrilled.

“I redecorated our bedroom.”

Sarah paused and then sprinted up the stairs. “Oh, no!” she shouted. “No, you did not. Tell me you did not find those purple sheets and throw them out! Those sheets were a surprise Christopher Sullivan! They were for our honeymoon!”

She grasped the knob to the bedroom door and threw it open, furious that Chris would deny her the purple satin sheets that she’d bought and hidden in the linen closet. She darted into the room but froze at the foot of the bed. Her satin bed spread was there, just as she’d left it when she was frantically making the bed after Chris had gone out to warm up the Harley. It was folded down carefully to reveal the matching purple satin sheets on the four poster bed.

“I confess, Slick,” Chris said from behind her. “I
did
find the purple sheets in the closet a few days ago. Not that I was looking for them. And I figured if you got to choose the sheets, then I get to choose what goes on the wall and now the room is
ours
.”

Sarah pressed her lips together and gazed at the huge framed photograph centered just above their bed. The hues were purple and blue, calm and peaceful, and the only other color was the white of the moon, rising over the Badlands, and the stars that surrounded it.

“I’m finally home.”

THE END