Imperfect Harmony (Big Sky Cowboys 3)

Sarah

Kat and Billy decided they didn’t want a big fancy wedding because, with Kat’s fame, it would have been too much fuss. So the plan was that three days after the show in Bozeman, my whole family, Kat’s mama, and Hazel, the lady who owned the Conway Cafe and was like an auntie to Kat, would gather in the loft of the barn with the preacher. Kat and Bill had a soft spot for the damn barn loft. They both kinda glowed whenever they talked about spending time there growing up. For them, the musky loft was romantic. So we were gonna open the loft doors and let the land in and all just celebrate that my brother, Bill, finally got the girl.

Only that plan was supposed to take place in two days, and while Kat and I were out touring, none of my brothers or my dad thought that maybe it would have been a good idea to clean the damn loft and make it look pretty. So now, I was in a foul mood, heartbroken and desperately trying to be chipper, hoping that I could make-believe for long enough to put together Kat’s picture-perfect tiny wedding in the mucky, moldy old barn loft. All my brothers were letting me boss them around because after I yelled at them about Horse, Kat had yelled at them about being overprotective, so now they were like sheep and I was their leader.

“I think we need little fairy lights,” I said to Luke. “Lots of them. Hanging from the rafters.”

“Aren’t they getting married during the day?” he asked.

“So?” I snapped. “It’s dark in here.”

“You’re right,” he said sweetly.

Cody was heaving the last few hay bales to line them up like rows for seating. But he made the aisle down the center too narrow.

“The aisle needs to be wider,” I commanded.

Standing back, looking at the space, Cody said, “I think it's fine.”

“It’s not,” I said tersely.

Grinning at me, Wyatt, who was using a big wooden push broom to clean up the hay falling from Cody’s efforts, said, “It’s not wide enough, Cody. You want to trade jobs?”

“No,” Cody grumbled. “But I don’t see why…”

He trailed off in response to Bill who had just come up the ladder and entered the space by saying, “Because Kat put Sarah in charge. Period.”

Cody rolled his eyes but went back to moving the bales.

Inside my chest, I felt hollow. It was like my heart was a sucking black hole. Billy put his arm around me. “You okay, kid?” he asked.

My big brother was overprotective, but he was also the best. I leaned into his side and said, “No, not really. Does this feeling ever go away?”

“Darn, Sarah, I’m a bad person to ask that question. I only ever loved one woman. And every minute she was gone, I was dying, so if he’s your one, maybe not.”

I put my hands over my eyes, turned into Bill’s chest, and started to cry. He wrapped his arms around me and then, one by one, I felt all four of my brothers circle in, hugging me or rather huddling me.

“We love you,” Bill said.

“So much,” Luke added.

“Even I love you,” Cody joked.

I giggled. And Wyatt said, “You sure we can’t beat him up just a little?”

“I’m sure,” I said, muffled by their big bodies. “Well, maybe a little,” I teased. Bill’s chuckle rumbled in his chest beneath my hands and I felt lucky to have them.

When they finally let me out, I felt less grumpy but still sad. Bill suggested that I go find Kat and take her to lunch and pick up the fairy lights too. He said the boys would have the place spick-and-span by the time I got back. Getting out of the barn and into the sun sounded good, so I headed for the loft ladder, but right before I turned to climb down, I heard a sound that had become so familiar to me over the last few months that I almost couldn’t place it. My heart started to race.

I turned back to my brothers. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Cody asked.

“Air brakes. Did I just hear air brakes?”

Cody looked at me like I was crazy. “Air brakes?”

“Yes, I would swear I just heard air brakes like you hear on a semi or a bus,” I reiterated.

Wyatt moved to the loft door and swung it open. Out on the lawn, halfway between the house and the barn, was a bus. My bus.

Wyatt smiled at me. “Sarah Morgan, I think your coach—complete with Horse—has arrived.”

I stood there staring at the bus parked on our ranch, wondering what was about to happen. Gwen and Leon came out first. Leon was carrying an amp and Gwen was carrying a guitar and stand. They set them up like they would have on stage. Then they returned to the bus and when they came back out, they set up an additional amp and three mics like Kat had for her backup singers. I noticed that Kat, her momma, and my daddy were watching too, standing on the porch of the house.

“Should we go out there?” Bill asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m watching the show from here.” I crossed and sat down on the edge of the loft door opening, letting my feet swing. My brothers circled around me, leaning, squatting, standing, like a wall of love and, of course, protection. Truth was, I’d already forgiven Horse. I loved him, so if he was here, it was enough, but sometimes you gotta let ’em earn it.

Once again, Leon and Gwen returned to the bus, and then the party really got started. Sean came out first in sequins and big hair. Behind him was Stew, less flashy but still clearly in drag. And then Leon, more haphazard, his huge hulking body squeezed into a stretchy off-the-shoulder top and a wig quickly donned. They lined up at the microphones and then Gwen, who I expected to play the guitar, came out with a bass, plugging in next to the ragtag group of backup singers.

It was then that the tears started to roll. Even from where I was sitting, I could see Kat’s hand snap up to her face seeing him with a guitar because she knew too. Horse didn’t play the guitar anymore, but he was gonna play for me. He came down the steps of the bus looking like Horse—no drag, nothing crazy. Just Horse in his black jeans, black t-shirt, and steel-toed boots. My Horse. He looked up at me, sitting in the loft in the barn fifty yards away, and said, “Hello, Morgans.” He must have been wearing a wireless mic. “I’ve come for my reckoning. I hope you’ll let me plead my case.”

Then with flair and a big swoop of his arm, he strummed the first note on his guitar. His song choice was perfect. He sang, “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney. With one song, he was telling me that he loved me, that he was a scared fool, and that he was astounded that I loved him. He was telling me that he wasn’t going to be that fool anymore, that he was going to live and thrive with me, that the darkness was in the past because we were in love. Behind him, Leon, Stew, and Sean danced in perfect unison. I honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So I did both.

When the song was over, he handed the guitar to Gwen, and walking in the direction of the barn, he started speaking. “Sarah Morgan, in front of all your people and all our people, I want to tell you that you were right. You are perfect for an imperfect me. Everyone, all these people could see it. We are an imperfect harmony and in this one instance, two dissonant chords ring out with a sound so clear that I can’t pretend it’s not everything I need.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Cody asked.

I didn’t stop to answer. I was up and running, headed for the ladder and out the barn, moving as fast and as hard as I could until I slammed into his chest and he caught me in his arms.

“I love you,” he said into my hair.

I smiled, clinging to him, and said, “Took you long enough.”

And then before I said I love you too, I peppered kisses all over his face until he was good and laughing.