Read Online Meet Me at the Chapel by Joanna Sims - Free Book Online Page B

blatant attempt to flatter her, which was obviously a strategy that had worked extremely well for him in the past, made her laugh. It made her glance over her shoulder at him.
    What a flirt!
    Wyatt was still standing where she left him, grinning at her with both dimples showing. “Hey! Are you kin to the Brands?”
    â€œNiece.” She threw this response over her shoulder without looking back this time.
    That cowboy didn’t need a bit of encouragement. He was way too cute and way too aware that he was cute not to be playing the field. A cowboy like Wyatt could probably pick women up just as easily as picking up a gallon of milk at a convenience store.
    â€œHope to see you around!”
    â€œGoodbye, Wyatt!” She gave another wave of her hand, but resisted the urge to turn around. He was a nice piece of eye candy—that was an undeniable fact. But she had been around the block enough times to know that eye candy like Wyatt was best left on the shelf.
    She was, however, still smiling at his flirtation as she hiked up the hill where the chapel had been relocated. At the top of the hill, she paused to catch her breath. The change in altitude made the air thinner; it would take some acclimating before she could hike in the mountains, which was something she genuinely looked forward to doing.
    Standing upright, hands on her hips, her cheeks feeling flushed from the exertion and fresh air, Casey stopped to admire the century-old chapel. It had a fresh coat of bright white paint and the curved, wooden door, hand-carved by her ancestor, had been restored.
    â€œBeautiful,” Casey said aloud.
    After she had caught her breath, she kept on walking. Just over the crest of the hill, Casey spotted the tree that had been planted in memory of Penelope’s twin brother, Michael, who had died at birth. She stopped by the oak tree to read the bronze plaque placed in front of the sapling.
    Bowing her head, Casey said a silent prayer to her nephew. Tears of sorrow for her sister’s loss, and for the loss of the entire family, started to flow without warning. She had thought that she had already cried all of her tears for Michael.
    Casey wiped her tears away. Taylor, who had really been more of a mother than an older sister to her, had always taught her to keep moving forward. So, that’s what she did. She said a final prayer for her nephew’s soul and then walked the short distance to the chapel.
    Of course, she wanted to see the inside. But she was saving it for last. She walked all around the perimeter of the chapel, touching the stained-glass windows original to the structure. The chapel, no bigger than a modern one-car garage, was so romantic, set high up on a hill overlooking Bent Tree Ranch, with regal mountains off in the distance. It was the perfect spot for a small, intimate wedding.
    â€œI didn’t know anybody else was up here.”
    For the second time in a relatively short window of time, she had been startled. She had a terrible startle reflex, so even the slightest surprise set her heart racing, made her jump and, when she realized that there wasn’t any danger, it made her ticked off.
    â€œDon’t sneak up on me like that, Brock! Geez!”
    The front of Brock’s shirt was sweaty from working, and there was a ring of dirt in the creases of his neck. He was carrying a small cooler in his hand that she had seen him pack with snacks and food for lunch.
    â€œI wasn’t really sneaking...” he said. “But I am sorry I caught you off guard.”
    Her heart was still racing. It was a terrible feeling to have her body overreact over the slightest thing. Having anxiety stunk.
    â€œIt’s not you—it’s me.” Casey sighed with irritation. “Lunchtime?”
    â€œI come up here sometimes. I like the quiet.”
    They both starting walking toward the front of the chapel—Brock had to deliberately shorten his stride to keep pace with her.