Shallie tried not to think about the DNA tests. She hated the now-common expression, “It is what it is,” but… It would be what it would be. She’d come to recognize that what she hoped for was not only to be part of Cord’s life but Carly’s, as well.

The invitations went out by mail and email, and responses were coming back quickly.

These days she was helping Carly with MPS by driving her to some of the appointments, writing a blog about the charity, which Susan—with whom she was becoming good friends—posted on the library website. MPS now had nine area clients. She also continued to work with Cord’s horse people.

They’d made a number of decisions about the wedding. The ceremony itself would be in the Painted Pony Creek Community Church, followed by a reception at Bailey’s. She and Carly ordered dresses, fairly informal but long, hers an off-white, Carly’s a pale blue.

In mid-October, she flew to Seattle, planning to spend three days there. She resigned from her job, meeting former colleagues for dinner that first night. Julie flew in for a couple of days, and that meant a lot to Shallie.

She gave up her apartment as of month’s end, offering Julie Daniels, as well as Emma, any furniture, electronics and kitchenware they could use. The rest was picked up by a local charity.

Shallie didn’t keep much—clothes, some books, which she shipped to herself in Montana, a few personal effects and jewelry.

She loved seeing Julie again and was beginning to feel a new depth of connection. With Shallie’s agreement, Cord had shared the news about their engagement. Now Julie told Shallie repeatedly how happy this made her, that she already adored her as a daughter-in-law and was convinced no woman could be better for her son. “We’ll definitely plan to be at the wedding,” she promised. “And the Thanksgiving party if possible.”

When Julie drove her to the airport on Sunday, she handed her a small sealed package. “I called Cord and told him I’m giving you this to bring home. It’s my wedding ring, from his dad.”

It was all Shallie could do not to open it midflight.

ELI, J.P. (AND TROOPER) met Cord for brunch at Bailey’s that same afternoon to discuss what they called “the best man thing.” They listed the alternatives. Draw cards as suggested by Cord. Find out if they could both take on the role. Recommend someone else? No way!

But if Shallie had two maids of honor, they could do the two-best-men scenario, couldn’t they?

Brow wrinkled in a frown, J.P. wondered if they were being childish about this, like grade-school kids competing in a schoolyard. Eli disagreed. “No. Because we’re friends. Close and longtime friends. In fact, we fought for this friendship—”

“Fought about it, anyway.”