A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal. Cathy McDavid

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СКАЧАТЬ the guests. Make eye contact. Humor is great, too. A touch will help put the couple at ease. But don’t go overboard, or you’ll spoil the ceremony. Be earnest and sincere and, most of all, likable. This is a once in a lifetime experience for the bride, the groom and their families. Our job is to make it special and memorable and perfect.”

      “Yeah. Okay.” Owen’s stomach started to tighten. He hadn’t been nervous until now.

      “Don’t forget to smile, though not too much, at the appropriate intervals. And stand up straight. You’ll be filmed and photographed the entire time.”

      Owen squared his shoulders and drew in a deep breath. Had he slouched before?

      “Remember to speak clearly and project.”

      “Got it.”

      He tugged on his shirt collar. When he’d officiated at his buddy’s wedding, most of the guests had been his friends, too. People he’d known for years if not his whole life. The wedding, a casual affair, had taken place at a nearby park and the reception had been held in the couple’s backyard.

      No one had complained about Owen’s posture or warned him not to crack too many jokes. Of course, they hadn’t paid a fee for his services. His job at Sweetheart Ranch included compensation in the form of room and board and childcare, and he’d do well to take it seriously. Molly was giving him sound advice.

      “Maybe we should try a dry run,” he said. “Will we have time before the ceremony?”

      “I won’t.” She debated a moment. “There’s a full-length mirror in the groom’s dressing room off the chapel. You might practice reciting your lines in front of that.”

      “Good idea.”

      “Be done by four thirty sharp. That’s when the wedding party’s arriving. Oh, and stick close after the ceremony to meet guests. Also plan on attending the reception if the couple invites you. You don’t have to stay past the toast.”

      Any more requirements and he’d need a list to keep track. “Where will you be?”

      “Hovering in the background in case there’s a problem and praying everything goes well.”

      The load on her shoulders was growing heavier. He could say the same for himself.

      Had he made a mistake by agreeing to substitute for Uncle Homer? In any case, it was too late now to back out.

      * * *

      “HELLO! PLEASE COME IN.” Molly welcomed the bride and her entourage, ushering them through the foyer. “We’re so happy to have you.”

      “We need to hurry,” the bride exclaimed, her face flushed with excitement. “My fiancé’s ten minutes behind us. I don’t want him to see me before the ceremony.”

      “Follow me.” Molly escorted them down the hall.

      The bride, her hair arranged in an upsweep, juggled several bags and cases, including one for cosmetics and one for shoes. A middle-aged woman wearing a tasteful mother-of-the-bride dress carried a voluminous garment bag raised high so as not to drag on the floor. The maid of honor also carried a garment bag, hers considerably less voluminous but guarded with equal care.

      As the group passed by the chapel on their way to the bride’s dressing room, Molly crossed her fingers, willing the bride not to notice the orange roses.

      “Mom, look at the flowers!”

       Uh-oh.

      “They’re gorgeous,” her mother gushed and everyone came to a standstill. “Absolutely stunning.”

      They were? More oohing and aahing followed, and Molly breathed a little easier.

      “Just like you,” the mother said, her eyes misting as she reached out a hand to pinch her daughter’s chin. Molly doubted these were the first tears shed today, nor would they be the last.

      At the dressing room door, she stopped and handed the bride a small black pager. “If you need me, just press the green button.” A matching device was clipped to her pocket.

      “We hate to bother you right from the start...” The maid of honor tilted her head appealingly. “Do you have any food we can snack on? We’re not particular.”

      “I haven’t eaten all day,” the bride admitted. “I’ve been too nervous.”

      Her mother laid a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t have her passing out from hunger.”

      “No problem.” Molly smiled graciously. “I’ll bring something right away.”

      “Low-cal, please.” The bride patted her waist. “I can’t afford to gain a single ounce if I hope to fit into my dress.”

      Molly ducked out of the room.

      There were plenty of leftovers from the open house. She’d prepare a selection of fresh fruit and yogurt dip and finger sandwiches. That should satisfy the bride.

      Molly hurried through the parlor, now empty except for Nora’s granddaughter Tracee who was pushing a vacuum. Every last trace of the open house had been removed and the buffet freshly set for the reception.

      Right now, Sweetheart Ranch didn’t offer catering services beyond a cake, nonalcoholic punch and a continental breakfast. If couples chose, they could bring their own champagne and hors d’oeuvres. One day, if the ranch did well and turned a decent profit, they hoped to offer light catering. Bridget was already planning ahead.

      One step at a time, Molly told herself. For now, guests would come to the main house between 7:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. for some of Bridget’s incredible homemade croissants, breads, pastries and jams. Yet another ranch specialty was a honeymoon breakfast prepared to order for the couple the morning after their wedding and delivered to their cabin as late as noon. Until then, they wouldn’t be disturbed.

      “Hey, the bride’s here,” Molly announced upon entering the kitchen. “She and the others are in the dressing room. The groom’s on his way.”

      “Our first wedding. Now we’re really and truly open for business.” Bridget fussed over the cake, adding a tiny flower here and smoothing a patch of icing there.

      Molly removed a clean platter from the rack and began loading it with leftovers.

      “Hungry?” Nora asked.

      Temporarily relieved of her babysitting duties, the older woman had returned to the house for a short break and a quick bite. She’d be back on the clock, so to speak, during the wedding when she’d resume care of Owen’s children.

      “This is for the bride and her entourage,” Molly explained. “They’re hungry and requested a snack.”

      “You must be happy. The open house was a huge success.”

      “Are you kidding? I’m thrilled. Not a single hitch.” Molly couldn’t believe their good fortune.

      “You two worked your tails off.” Nora tore off a piece СКАЧАТЬ