Book 2: His Second Chance (Ivory Peaks Romance)

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Matthew Whettstein finished with his tie and went down the hall to the kitchen. Britt and Keith both sat at the tiny table pushed into a corner, each with a bowl of oatmeal in front of them. “How is it?” he asked his kids.

“Good,” Keith said, getting up. He too wore his best Sunday suit, but his tie sat askew at his collar. Britt gave Matt a thumbs-up, her mouth full of her lunch.

Matt hated that he’d made oatmeal for lunch, but it was easy, and they had a long day ahead of them still. Not only that, but he’d been out in the fresh snow, fighting the tractor and then the barn doors for far too long.

If they didn’t leave in the next five minutes, they’d be late to the wedding. 

Matt did not want to be late for Hunter Hammond’s marriage ceremony. He loved the kid—now a twenty-six-year-old man, Matt supposed—as if he were his own, and he’d been working for the Hammond’s on their family farm for over fifteen years. 

“Finish up, Britt,” he said, turning to his son. “Let me fix your tie, bud.” 

Keith held still and let him do it, but he wore an edge in his eyes. Matt smiled at him anyway, because with a fifteen-year-old, it was either smile or snap. “It’s crooked. I’m pretty sure Hunter was dating Molly when he was fifteen, and look at them now.” Matt got the offending knot in just the right place and ran his hands over his son’s shoulders.

He’d definitely put on some muscle since they’d moved to Ivory Peaks eighteen months ago. Keith had been working the farm too, earning money and learning the ins and outs of horse care from one of the best—Gloria Munson.

Matt thought he was a pretty decent groomsman too, and his pride in his work had only increased since he’d made the move permanent. 

Keith loved working with the horses, though he’d never said so. Matt could just tell by the way the boy got up in the morning and took care of them before school, rain or shine. He could sometimes be found leaning against a fence, talking to a horse. He led them all to their therapy appointments, and he’d even agreed to participate in the equine therapy program that Hunter and his soon-to-be-wife, Molly, had started last year.

Pony Power had opened her doors to children with a variety of needs in May of last year, but Matt, Gloria, Molly, and Hunter had been working on the program for almost a year before that. He loved watching the kids come and go on the farm, and he loved that his two children had been getting the help they needed too.

Behind him, a crash sounded, and Matt spun to find Britt on the floor, her bowl still skittering toward his boots. “You okay?” He stepped over the dish to his daughter, gently putting his hands under her arms and lifting her up. 

Tears filled her precious blue eyes, and Matt hugged her, wishing with everything in him that he could take her weaknesses and illnesses from her. He couldn’t, and most days, he accepted that. Sometimes, though, the ache in his father heart brought about a sense of injustice and sadness. He’d taken her to a half-dozen doctors, and none of them could give him an official diagnosis. With her stuttering and her poor muscle control, one had hypothesized she’d had a stroke at some point in her life.

Another had said her symptoms sometimes came from mental retardation, usually caused when the brain went without oxygen for too long. Another thought perhaps fetal alcohol syndrome. The real problem was, Brittany had not suffered any of those things, at least not that Matt knew of. No strokes. No time underwater or without oxygen. Her mother hadn’t drunk while she was pregnant.

“You’re okay,” he whispered to his daughter, pressing his eyes closed for only a moment. “Did your legs just give out?”

She nodded against his shoulder, being very brave and only sniffling. She suddenly pushed away from him, her eyes wide and afraid. “Is my ha-ha-hair okay, Dad-dad-daddy?” She reached up to touch her pretty hair, which Elise and Jane had come to braid that morning. 

Jane was Hunter’s half-sister, and she was only a couple of years older than Brittany. His daughter loved Jane with her whole heart and soul, and they’d been planning on matching hairstyles for the wedding for months now. Elise, Jane’s mother, could plait hair into any number of braids, and she’d done one down to Britt’s ear on each side, then pulled them back into a ponytail on the back of her head. The rest of her hair fell in soft curls to her shoulders, and Britt had stood in front of the mirror for ten minutes after Elise and Jane had left the cabin. 

“It’s still perfect, baby,” he whispered, smoothing down a couple of errant curls. He touched his nose to hers, choking on his emotions. “You’re beautiful.” He lowered her to the ground and kept a firm grip on her forearm until she found her balance. 

Just like that, she was back to her cheerful and positive self, and Matt wondered how she did it. He wanted to retreat down the hall and punch something while he growled about how unfair life was. After the anger subsided, he’d fall to his knees and beg God to help him with his daughter.

For a while there, Matt had begged God to cure Brittany, but after several months of pleading without any change in her condition, Matt realized he’d been asking for the wrong thing. 

He didn’t need Brittany to be cured; he needed to learn how to help her, take care of her, and protect her. 

That was when Matt had decided he couldn’t stay with his ex-wife. The road since then had been mostly uphill, with plenty of ruts and potholes, but Matt felt like he, Keith, and Brittany were almost to the top of their personal mountain.

“Ready?” he asked the kids. “We better get going. It snowed eight inches out there, and we’ve got to get to the gardens by one.” 

“I’ve got Britt,” Keith said quietly, stepping around Matt in the small kitchen and taking his sister’s hand. “You’re bringing the saddle, right?”

“Stars and lights,” Matt said, something his father used to say whenever he was surprised or scared. “I forgot.” He jogged down the short hall to his bedroom, where the stained and polished saddle waited over the armchair. He gazed at it for a moment, then hefted it onto his shoulder and rejoined his children in the kitchen. “Got it. Let’s go.”

Matt had already cleared a path to his truck, and he’d already driven it that morning. They got to the vehicle, and Matt put the saddle in the backseat with Britt. “You keep an eye on that, now, okay?” He grinned at her as she pulled her seatbelt across her lap and clicked it into place.

He got in the front with Keith, and since he’d only been home for about forty-five minutes, the truck still held some heat. He got it fired up and the heater blowing again, and they set out for the Royal Chinese Gardens, which lay on the outskirts of Denver.

The drive took a while, but at least the snow plows had been out to clear the roads. Matt sang along with the radio, grinning at Britt as she added her sweet voice to the country songs she knew. Keith rolled his eyes a time or two, but Matt saw him tapping his foot to at least three tunes.

The gardens touted masterfully carved hedges, rare plants and trees from China, and the biggest flowering blossom festival in the state. All of that happened in the springtime, though, and as it was the middle of January, and everything existed under two feet of snow, Matt didn’t think they’d be seeing any flowers today.

How wrong he was. The parking lot gate had blue and white flowers laced through it, telling people they’d reached the right destination if they were looking for the Hammond wedding. 

Matt should’ve known. The Hammonds had more money than most people could comprehend, but they weren’t stuck-up or pretentious. They were, however, public figures, and as such, there was an image to uphold. As he parked in an empty spot, Matt saw no less than three people with cameras, each doing something different, though he wasn’t sure what.

“Come on.” He got out, and while the temperature could steal a man’s breath, he didn’t mind it. He hailed from Montana, and he’d been working his father’s farm for decades in weather much colder than this.

He retrieved the saddle from the backseat and listened to Keith tell Britt there might be icy spots on the sidewalk, so she needed to hold onto him tightly. She promised she would, and Matt led the way toward the huge, light, airy dome in the center of the gardens.

Molly had wanted a winter wedding, but she knew it would still have to take place indoors. She and Hunter had wanted to be married before Christmas, but the holidays had turned out to be a popular time for nuptials, and the Chinese Gardens had been booked. She’d taken the next available Saturday, and Matt had wondered what all the fuss was about.

Now, he knew. As he walked down the cleared and salted sidewalk, he understood why Molly had wanted this venue. Why she’d brought the pictures to the lunches she came to out at the farm, and why she and Gloria had poured over them for so long and so often.

Tall, alabaster pillars lined the walkway on both sides, a delicate white rope hanging down in a smile between them. Pink, red, orange, and yellow flowers ran the length of the supports, and on every other one, a large picture of Molly and Hunter had been nailed right at adult eye-level. 

He couldn’t help smiling at the photos. Molly and Hunter were some of his best friends, and he loved them both so much. 

His breath steamed in front of him, and the saddle started to get heavy. He finally reached the dome and opened the door so his children could enter before him. 

“There you are.” A woman rushed toward him as if she’d been lying in wait to accost him the moment he arrived. “Thank heavens. Bring that saddle right up front.” She spun on her heel and marched away from him, moving fast for someone in a skirt so tight around the knees.

Matt nearly rolled his eyes, but he followed Jessa Thompson, the wedding planner. He couldn’t even imagine what she’d have done had he forgotten the saddle. 

“Find us a seat,” he called over his shoulder to the kids. “Maybe up here by Elise.” He passed her, and she got up to look behind him. 

He continued all the way to the altar, where he and Jessa positioned the saddle in the exact right spot. “I knew it would fit,” he said, pride in every syllable. He gazed at the saddle, which Jessa started decorating with flowers.

“The wedding starts in twenty minutes,” she said, giving him a dirty look. “I thought you were never going to show up.”

“I told you what time I’d be here,” he said. “It takes five minutes to lace flowers through the leather.” He knew, because he’d done it himself, and if he could get his thick fingers to tuck stems through the straps he’d purposefully created and looped to hold them, anyone could.

“Still.”

Still what? he wanted to ask, but he didn’t. He turned away from Jessa and retreated back to the first couple of rows. All of the Hammonds had already arrived, and Matt had a hard time telling some of Hunter’s uncles apart. He did have a set of identical twins in there, so Matt didn’t feel too badly about it.

He shook hands with Chris, Hunter’s grandfather, and sat down next to him. “How are you?” he asked quietly. Quiet enough that no one nearby would overhear. He had a special relationship with the man, almost like Chris could channel the spirit of his father. 

“It’s been a busy morning already,” Chris said with a smile. “Spilled juice all down the front of one of the flower girl’s dresses, and then Ames got in a car accident on the way here.”

“You’re kidding.” Matt stood up and looked around. “He’s here, though, right?”

“He’s here. He was driving over with Colton, so they didn’t have any kids with them, thankfully.” 

Matt sat back down and looked at Chris. The man had eyes the color of fresh dirt, and he wore his eighty-four years of age really well. His dark hair was always trimmed, and Matt had learned that Elise had been doing that for him for years. Today, he wore an impressive suit—probably one very much like the ones he used to wear as CEO of the Hammond family company.

Hunter was the CEO now, and Matt had seen him in plenty of similar-looking suits, as he sometimes came straight to the farm from the office. 

Matt would rather die a slow death than wear a suit to work each day. Just wearing one to church each week, sans jacket, was a chore for him. He always unknotted his tie and unbuttoned that top button on his shirt the moment he hit the driver’s seat following the sermon, and he hoped he didn’t choke today. After all, the wedding would be a lot longer than a Sabbath-day sermon.

“Matthew,” a man said, and Matt turned toward the pastor himself. 

“Hello, Pastor Benson.” Matt stood up again, a smile dancing across his face. “Is she ready?”

“She seems to be.” Pastor Benson shook his hand, his smile warm and his eyes filled with kindness. “She’s actually asked me to find you. She wants you to come to the bride’s room for a minute.”

“Really?” Matt glanced around as if someone would tell him the pastor was lying.

“Do you see Gloria?” Pastor Benson asked. “She’s supposed to go back too.”

“I haven’t seen her.” Matt turned to survey the rows and rows of chairs, which had started to fill since he’d arrived. Jessa flitted from this item to that one, and the noise inside the dome increased as more and more people streamed through the doors in the back.

Matt swallowed at the sheer size of this place. It must hold five hundred people, and he suddenly very much wanted to escape.

“There she is,” he said, a measure of relief filling him when he spotted Gloria’s soft, wavy hair and freckled face. “I’ll grab her, and we’ll go back.”

“Thank you,” Pastor Benson said. “I need to get set up at the altar.” He smiled and walked that way. Matt had listened to Molly detail how her father would walk her down the aisle first, then perform the ceremony. He supposed Pastor Benson did need to get some things organized before he went to join the wedding party.

Matt paused next to Elise and said, “Molly asked for me and Gloria to come back for a minute. Are you okay with the kids?” He looked at Keith, who nodded.

“We’re fine, Dad.”

“They’re fine,” Elise assured him.

He nodded at her, his gratitude for the woman reaching new heights. When she’d first come to Ivory Peaks, Matt had wondered what Gray Hammond had been thinking. She wasn’t a city slicker, but she didn’t understand farm life. Elise had learned, one day at a time, and she’d been fearless. 

Matt admired that, and as he walked toward Gloria, he couldn’t help admiring her too. Physically, she was downright gorgeous, with strong arms and shoulders that still looked feminine. Today, she wore a bright blue dress that hugged her curves and fell to her knee, along with a pair of black heels that put her closer to Matt’s height. Maybe only a couple of inches shorter, in fact.

Since she’d arrived in Ivory Peaks, he hadn’t been in a place to do much more than work with Gloria on the farm. They’d talked about their lives back in Montana, as she’d been born and raised in the same small town as him. They’d even dated for a while in Sugar Pond, and looking at her now, Matt wondered if he could have a second chance with the woman.

His heart boomed in a weird way, something it hadn’t done in a long, long time. He nearly tripped over his own feet as he tried to figure out what was different now that hadn’t been yesterday.

Maybe you’re ready, he thought. He’d come to Ivory Peaks only a few months after his divorce, and he hadn’t been thinking about getting a new girlfriend or wife.

Maybe now you are.

“Gloria,” he said, his voice actually breaking as if he were the fifteen-year-old talking to the girl he had a crush on.

She turned from one of Hunter’s aunts and looked at him. Her eyes slid right down to his polished and pristine cowboy boots and back to his face. Something glinted there, and Matt cocked his head.

“You look nice,” she said, and for Gloria that was a huge compliment. She was task-oriented, always greeting him with something more like, “We have eight stalls to shovel this morning, and then I’m going to need your help with moving that stubborn bull out to the second pasture.”

Matt was sure she’d never complimented him before. “Thank you,” he managed to say, though he reached for his tie to adjust it. “You look amazing, as always.” He glanced at Bree, who smiled at him. “Uh, Pastor Benson said Molly wanted to see us for a moment.”

Gloria’s eyebrows went up. “Oh. Okay.” 

For some reason, he offered her his arm, and for a reason wildly unbeknownst to him, she took it. Warmth spread through him, and his pulse increased until he could feel it fluttering in the vein in his neck. “I’m not sure why,” he managed to say as they stepped away from Bree. “I was just tasked with finding you and taking you back.”

“Let’s go see what she wants,” Gloria said in a soft voice he’d only heard her use a few times. Whispers from the past streamed through his mind, and Matt fantasized about a new future with Gloria. One where she didn’t tell him he was blind to see his failing farm for what it was, and one where he didn’t tell her she needed to grow up and realize the world was bigger than Sugar Pond.

Maybe she could forgive him for the things he’d said two decades ago. 

Maybe he could ask her to dinner, and maybe she’d say yes. 

A smile lit his soul as they left behind the burgeoning crowd and entered a private hallway. Gloria actually stepped closer to him, and Matt glanced at her as he tucked her arm into his body.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to move past his first failed marriage, but something in the back of his mind said, Yes, you are, Matthew. It’s time.