Amy’s eureka moment had led to one of their typical shouting matches, which ended with Rachel vowing to stay far away from the house until the barbecue was over and Amy shrieking about Rachel being unreasonable, like Amy hadn’t already won the lifetime achievement award for that particular personality trait.

As she’d expected, the next morning while Rachel was on the trail, Jenna called her to run damage control. Vaughn wasn’t coming to the barbecue, she’d assured her, and then she’d threatened bodily harm if Rachel missed the cake tasting. So Rachel thought, what the heck. It’d be nice to enjoy a hot midday meal.

Besides, she was grateful to Jenna for taking over as Amy’s wedding planner. All Rachel had to do for the various wedding-related activities was show up, so it would behoove her to do so, even if it meant making small talk with Amy’s and Kellan’s friends, and fielding any potential suitors Amy had rounded up.

She freshened up at the wash bin, then gave Growly one last look. “Well, Growly. Wish me luck.”

She popped an antacid and plastered a brittle smile on her face, then walked to the house.

Amy was the only person in the kitchen. She smiled from where she was mixing ingredients in a huge green bowl. “Hi there. You’re right on time to eat. Food’s laid out buffet-style in the dining room, except for my signature pasta salad which I’m bringing out right now.”

She hefted the bowl into her arms. It was overloaded with slimy-looking pasta.

“Yum,” Rachel faked.

She held the dining room door open for Amy and followed her in.

Both tables were full of people, and the second Rachel walked in, all eyes snapped to her. Ducking her head to shield herself from their stares, she fought the urge to run back the way she’d come.

“Woo-hoo,” Lisa Binderman called from somewhere to her right. “Twenty bucks to Jenna, Kellan. Pay up.”

Rachel looked up, searching for Kellan. Her heart stopped beating.

Vaughn.

Dressed in a short-sleeve, button-down red shirt that brought out the darkness of his hair, he sat with his back to the wall in the left corner table, along with Kellan and Jenna. He kept his eyes on the television across the room, watching the baseball game and chowing down on ribs. Like he hadn’t noticed her. Or like Lisa hadn’t just hollered at the top of her lungs.

The only indication that he hadn’t gone into a trancelike state of sports-viewing was when Kellan slid a twenty across the table to Jenna and he shifted his focus away from the TV to follow the movement of the money with his eyes.

Amy reappeared at her side. “Rachel, I’m sure you remember Howard Keibler. I invited him to join us for supper.”

Huh? She tore her gaze from Vaughn and scanned the room. Sure enough, Howard Keibler sat near the window, grinning at her like a salesman. Did Amy honestly think she’d be interested in a guy like Howard Keibler? Not only no, but hell, no.

Then again, she couldn’t fault Amy for not knowing that Howard had a penchant for getting overly friendly with his hands when he’d had a bit too much to drink, and had copped a feel on Rachel more times than she cared to recall after cornering her at livestock auctions and the county fair. He’d also asked her out at least a half dozen times already, but seemed to be having a problem understanding the word no.

Amy shoved a plateful of food into her hands. Good thing she did, because Rachel had been contemplating a plan to strangle her. Jenna too. What a little liar, telling her Vaughn wasn’t attending. And why was he here in the first place? She’d told him to stay away from her. Since when had he stopped respecting her wishes?

Feeling the stares of the people in the room still on her, she looked at the plate of food and deliberated whether to ask to speak to her sisters in private to get her questions answered or make a break for it.

Make a break for it. Definitely.

She pivoted and had a hand on the door when Amy took hold of her shoulders. “Oh, no, you don’t. I saved you a seat next to Howard.”

Sure enough, a single, empty seat waited for her between Howard and Mr. Dixon. She barely caught the groan before it escaped her throat as she contemplated the many unsavory things Howard might do with his hands under the table if she sat next to him.

Harsh whispers and a tussle of movement near Jenna and Vaughn caught her eye. Kellan stood, clearing his throat. “Uh, actually, Amy, I was hoping Rachel could sit over here. I have some farm business I’ve been meaning to discuss with her and Ben.” He gestured to the seat directly across from Vaughn.

Amy clucked in protest and shot Kellan a warning glare, but released her.

Not too late to run, she reasoned. Then Jenna was behind her. She took a firm grip on Rachel’s elbow and whispered close to her ear. “It’s time for you to cowboy up and put on your big-girl panties.”

Rachel scoffed and whispered, “I’m pretty sure cowboys don’t wear big-girl panties.”

“Oh, hush. You know what I mean.” And she strong-armed Rachel all the way to the table and sat her down, like she was no bigger than Tommy. “Besides, don’t judge. Maybe some cowboys do.”

“Do what?” Kellan asked.

Rachel looked across the table at him, at a total loss for words.

“Hi,” Vaughn said.

She looked his way. He wore a kind, if cautious smile, and the only thought in her brain was, had she remembered to reapply deodorant when she freshened up in the stable? As her panic mounted, she remembered that she had, but she wished she’d had the chance to shower or change clothes. “Hi,” she managed to croak out.

“So, Kellan,” Vaughn said. “What’s the plan for you and Amy moving in together?”

Kellan finished cleaning the rib he was working on. “Next week, she’s moving into my place. Our place, that is.”

“Three months before your wedding? That’s awfully scandalous,” Vaughn said. His arm darted out and he pulled Rachel’s plate in his direction.

Too stunned to protest, she watched it go, holding her fork.

“You know me and Amy, we love to whip up a good scandal,” Kellan said, his eyes on Rachel’s plate too.

Vaughn scraped her pasta onto his plate. “Good timing, with the inn closed for the summer and the restaurant only open on weekends.” He slid Rachel’s plate back in her direction.

She couldn’t decide if she was spellbound that he’d saved her from the pasta or horrified that he’d done something as intimate as take food off her plate in front of everybody they knew.

“That was the idea,” Kellan said.

He looked like he maybe wanted to ask about the pasta, but Rachel was saved from explaining by Ben Torrey, who was sitting to her left. “Have you chosen a best man, yet?”

Kellan nodded. “Vaughn and Chris and I already talked about it. They know I asked my brother, Jake, to be my best man.”

Vaughn rolled his beer along the table. “But I get to plan your bachelor party, right?”

“Not sure. Things are strained enough between me and Jake. I’m not going to step in it by making assumptions.”

Amy, who’d been running around filling people’s plates with seconds, plopped onto the bench next to Kellan. “On the other hand, if you had multiple best men, then it won’t look as lopsided since I have both my sisters as maids of honor.”

Rachel waved her hands. “You know I’d be just as happy watching from the audience, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Amy said.

“When am I ever ridiculous? I mean, honestly.”

Amy released a deep, beleaguered sigh. “Well, Rach, you and I have another month or so to argue about it before you give in to my wishes. I want you and Jenna right up next to me when I say I do.”

“What about me?” Kellan asked, nudging her with his elbow. “Sounds like it’s going to be crowded up there. Will there be room enough for me to stand next to you too?”

Grinning like the fool in love that she was, Amy dobbed a smear of barbecue sauce on his nose.

“When I get married,” Jenna said, “I want a big church wedding and a white dress, the whole bit. My bridesmaids in sky blue, white roses all over the church and in my bouquet. I can hardly wait.”

Amy gave her a teasing smile. “All you need is the groom.” Her eyes flickered to Matt, who was deep in conversation with Tommy and Daisy across the room.

Jenna’s gaze traveled to him too. “That’s proving to be the tricky part. What about you, Rachel? What kind of wedding would you want?”

Rachel drilled her with her best warning look. Jenna’s eyes got as huge as lemons.

Amy tapped a finger on her chin. “You’d elope, right? That’s my guess. You hate being the center of attention. Heck, you don’t want to be near the altar for my wedding.”

Rachel pushed a rib bone around on the plate. “You both know good and well I’ve never once lazed around, daydreaming about my wedding day.”

Jenna tapped her fingers on the table. “Oh, come on. We’re just having fun. What kind of wedding would you have if you found that special someone? Would you elope, like Amy thinks?”

Rachel took a slow drink of iced tea and cleared her throat. Do not look at Vaughn. Answer the question so they’ll stop harassing you, and don’t look at Vaughn. Staring at her plate, she said, “Amy’s wrong. I wouldn’t elope. I’d get married right in the living room. By the fireplace. That’s where our parents got married. I’d want to carry on the tradition. Only close family and friends, not a big fuss. I might not even wear white, but just a simple country dress.”

Everyone at the table had gone quiet, listening. She looked at Amy, who was gazing at her with a dreamy smile. “Sounds wonderful. I hope you get to do that someday.”

Don’t look at him.

But she glanced in his direction anyway. He was watching her, his lips a flat line, his shoulders so tense they nearly touched his earlobes. He gave her a barely perceptible nod. Like he approved of her plan.

She grabbed her iced tea but couldn’t lift it for the trembling in her hand. She held on tight to the cold glass, so lightheaded that she felt like her spirit was floating away from her body.

Maybe it did because the next thing she knew, Jenna sprang from the bench with such force the table rattled. “Okay, everyone. Stay in your seats. It’s time for cake tasting. Lisa, come on and give me a hand, would you?”

With that, the two women dashed to the kitchen, returning with large platters before the door stopped swinging.

Jenna dealt the paper plates of desserts out as fast as a poker dealer might. “There are two bakers in Quay County who handle weddings. That’s not a lot. We need to get one locked down for the wedding, so I have three cakes from each for you to taste and one bonus dessert option. First wave of samples is from Heavenly Confections. You’ve got a lemon drop layer cake, strawberry with an amaretto cream filling, and dark chocolate with a milk chocolate mousse ribbon. Keep track of what you like. I’ll come around and ask you each about it in a minute.”

Jenna was all business, going around to each table with her clipboard. All the cakes were pretty good. Rachel preferred the lemon best, but Amy was all about the chocolate. Kellan didn’t seem to care, and neither did the rest of the men, all of whom scraped their plates clean.

Lisa and Jenna scurried to the kitchen for round two.

“Okay,” Jenna said, coming through the door with a fresh tray. “This round is from Marla Ray of the Mesa Verde Inn, who runs a pastry business on the side. You’ve got your mocha almond cake, chocolate cherry, and vanilla bean with a custard ribbon. And, as a bonus, we’re also tasting triple berry cream pie.”

Rachel stared hungrily at the pie slice that was set in front of her. It looked as delectable as always, with whole, plump raspberries, strawberries, and blueberries shimmering in a glossy sauce, piled high above a cream cheese filling and topped with huge dollops of fresh whipped cream. Forget a wedding cake. If Rachel ever got married, she wanted triple berry cream pie at the reception. Whoever decided to offer it as an option at Amy’s wedding was a genius.

“This from Catcher Creek Café?” Chris asked.

Jenna smiled serenely at Chris. “Yes. It’s a nice addition to the options, don’t you think?”

“I like the idea, but you never mentioned we were considering pie,” Amy said.

Jenna’s smile grew even wider. “It was Vaughn’s suggestion. He brought the pies.”

Rachel’s throat threatened to close. She looked Vaughn’s way, her eyes wide and questioning, but he wasn’t paying her the least bit of mind. He sliced into his piece of pie with the side of his fork and ate a heaping bite.