Erin wiped her boots clean on the entry rug. “Do I get a special door prize for being your first guest?”

“You do!” Vickie confirmed. “I just finished pulling cookies from the oven and I made lemon meringue pies as well. I’ve been beating Kennedy away with a bat. Lemon meringue is his favorite, and he kept trying to sneak pieces before the filling cooled.” Vickie’s green eyes sparkled with laughter. “Messing with my pies before they set is a shooting offense.”

Erin couldn’t help but grin. The couple’s love for each other and their excitement about finally being together was wonderful to behold. “I think I’m gaining weight just by sniffing the air.”

Vickie led the way to the kitchen, which, in a house designed for simple living, was in a direct line from the front door. A rancher came and went dozens of times each day, and all manner of dirt accompanied him. The kitchen was the heart of any home, but that was particularly true on a farmstead. Thirsty and hungry from hard work, people gravitated indoors for tall glasses of water and frequent snacks. The utilitarian floorplan diminished repetitive foot traffic in the more formal rooms of the house.

Erin locked arms with Uncle Slade before following her new aunt. “Are you two regretting that you didn’t go on a honeymoon yet?”

Vickie swung around to walk backward. “No. Never. Now that I’m finally back in Mystic Creek, I don’t want to leave!” She dimpled her cheek in a grin. “Well, I’ll return to Coos Bay to see my parents and kids, of course, but otherwise Slade will have to drag me out of here.”

Slade laughed. “I’m not dragging you anywhere. Other guys can look stupid in shorts and get sunburned legs on exotic beaches while they sip umbrella drinks. I’m happy with a Jimmy Buffett island song and a snort from my whiskey flask. If I can take my bride for walks in the moonlight and kiss her under a pine tree, I’m a happy man.”

Cheeks turning a pretty pink, Vickie pushed at her hair. “And I’m so glad he feels that way. We talked about escaping to Fiji for a couple of weeks, but we couldn’t take Pistol. And I’d have missed Four Toes and the horses, too.”

Pistol was technically Uncle Slade’s dog, but he had fallen in love with Vickie at first meet and now had two adoring humans to spoil him. Vickie had even crocheted a throw for the foot of their bed that had Pistol’s name on it. Four Toes was a blond black bear that Uncle Slade had rescued as a tiny cub and that now, by benefit of special permit, was able to call the ranch his forever home. Erin hadn’t spent time with any of the horses, but she knew how her uncle loved them. It was good that Vickie felt the same way.

Erin took a seat at the round oak table while Vickie filled a floral-pattern serving platter with cookies and Slade poured coffee. When they sat down, Erin felt nervous. She didn’t know how to start this conversation.