Mike edged her vehicle across a muddy field, then between a close-planted forest to stop under some trees. In the distance they could see a huge white tent with beautifully dressed people entering.

“Wow. This is some show,” Griff said.

“It’s what Kyle and Becks like.” She got out of the Jeep. “Oh, hell!”

He went around to see what was wrong. Good ol’ Kansas mud. Rich, black soil. “Don’t give me any argument.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

He swept her into his arms and started carrying her toward the tent. He expected her to demand that he put her down, but she didn’t. It was subtle, but he could feel her relax against him, and his steps slowed. “I’m sorry about your breakup. It must have hurt.”

“Yeah,” she said. “But I think I had on blinders. Maybe I was impressed that such an elegant man liked me. It was flattering.”

Griff couldn’t control his frown. “Did he earn that place or was it given to him by his daddy?”

She smiled up at him. “Good point. You can put me down now.”

Griff gave an exaggerated sigh. “If I must.”

Standing, she smiled at him. “Thanks. You’ve made me feel better.”

He put his hand to his heart. “I have now achieved nirvana.”

She shook her head. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”

As she hurried ahead, he followed her. “Let me guess what the menu is. Fried tofu? Cauliflower crust pizza? I know! Sushi.”

“You idiot,” she said, laughing. Inside the tent, she saw that Griff’s place card was next to hers. “How did you manage that?”

“Kyle. We hit it off.” He was smiling innocently.

“So what did he do with Hayes?”

Griff looked around the room. There was an empty chair at the table full of children. “Not sure.” He was grinning wickedly.

“I’m definitely going to murder Kyle,” she murmured as she took a seat.

“Let him have his honeymoon first,” Griff said.

They were at the second-most prestigious table. Miguel and Vera, Cait and Coop, Jared and his wife, and the other Hatten son, Sean, and his wife were at the first table.

Mike and Griff were seated with Mason dignitaries—the mayor and his wife, and two prosperous business couples. They’d known each other all their lives.

Griff was a stranger, so they zeroed in on him. As the thick steaks from Hatten cattle were served, they fired questions at him. Who was he? Why was he here? Who were his parents? On and on.

When Griff said his grandfather was Joe Harding, there was a collective sigh of recognition. Vera was the town celebrity. A Pulitzer Prize winner!

“Sorry,” Griff said, “but I never met him.” Their faces fell. “If it helps, my dad always said I was just like Granddad. Yup. Whenever I did anything Dad had told me not to do, he said I was just like Granddad.”