Page 109 of Holding Hope

“Hey, are you okay?” Clarke’s voice drifted from behind me. She peeked around the door; concern etched across her face. “You disappeared. I got worried.”

I tucked my phone away and forced a smile. “I felt out of place. I just wanted to give you two a moment.”

I looked her over—glowing, cheeks pink, eyes bright. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

She smiled, but her eyes stayed on me, searching. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re intruding. I want you here. And so does my family.” Her thumb brushed my cheek. “You are wanted here. Okay?”

My throat tightened. “Okay.”

She pulled me in for a kiss—she tasted like cherries instead of her usual apples—but a soft bell rang behind us, signaling the start of the ceremony. Groaning, I pulled back.

“As much as I’d love to kiss you all day,” Clarke sighed, lacing her fingers with mine, “we better get inside before they realize they’re short a bridesmaid.”

The barn doors opened with a loud crack, and every head turned. Clarke entered on Ethan’s arm, bouquet in hand, face glowing.

Her lace dress hugged her waist, the sweetheart neckline tied at the shoulders with delicate bows. The slit revealed her scuffed brown boots—perfectly Clarke.

Ethan walked beside her in a black suit with burgundy and gold accents, his usual cowboy hat swapped for a black leather one with gold embellishments.

A twinge of jealousy rippled through me. They looked good together—annoyingly good. Matching wheat-colored hair, mischievous blue eyes. Clarke walked with authority, never once seeming like she was being led.

“She’s beautiful,” Melody whispered beside me, tears shining in her eyes. “Like when she did pageants.” Pageants. Another piece of Clarke I hadn’t known.

The ceremony was beautiful. Delia and Colton looked genuinely in love. I doubted there was a dry eye in the room.

“Wow, you Texas folk really go all out,” I said later, grabbing a slice of peach pie for my already overloaded plate. My teeth ached just looking at it.

Melody nodded, but her smile wobbled. Her skin looked pale. I set my plate down and touched her shoulder.

“Hey, Mels, are you okay? Do you need water? Or sugar? No—wait, that’s-that’s diabetes, not…” My voice trailed off in an awkward huff of air. I was hopeless.

She shook her head, trying to be brave. “I’m f-fine.” Then her knees buckled.

Lunging forward, I caught her before she hit the floor. “Yeah, you’re definitely not fine. Let’s get you home.”

I scanned the room for her siblings. Colton was with Delia and her parents. Clarke stood in a corner talking to a tall blonde girl in a suit.

Jealousy flared—sharp and unwelcome—but I shoved it down. Melody came first. Her cheeks were graying fast. Panic rose in my chest.

“Alright, Mels, let’s find your mom. Where would she be?” She mumbled something I couldn’t understand. “Great,” I muttered. “I’ll figure it out. Maybe I can Uber you home. They’ll pick you up on a horse or something.”

She laughed weakly. “Funny. But my mom… would kill you.”

“Not if your sister did first.”

Melody straightened, scanning the room. “Where is she? Clarke—where is my sister?”

I pointed. “Talking to that girl over there.”

Melody squinted. “Oh. Emerson Parker. We shouldn’t interrupt. I can find my parents.”

Emerson Parker. The name tugged at something in my memory.

We wove through the crowd until we found Mr. and Mrs. King talking with the Lautners. Mrs. King’s smile vanished when she saw Melody and rushed over.

“Melly, sweetheart, are you alright?” She cupped her daughter’s face, checking her over before kissing her cheeks and forehead.

I looked away. I would never have that. Never have a mother who loved me like that.