The weddings of the last of the two Corbett brothers were huge affairs, with everyone in three counties invited.
There was dancing and Mexican food and a celebration that lasted for several days. Weeks later, everyone was still talking about how pretty the brides had been and how handsome those Corbett brothers were.
Lantry looked up to see his father framed in the doorway. “Dad?”
Grayson seemed to hesitate before he stepped into the room. “I suppose you’ll be going back to Texas now that the wedding is over and you’re back from your honeymoon.”
So that explained his father’s serious look.
“Actually,” Lantry said, smiling at his father, “I’ve decided not to go back to being a divorce lawyer. I figure I’d better stay around my family given how much trouble this family gets into.”
His father registered surprise. “I just assumed since Dede is from Texas…”
“Well, you know she grew up on a ranch in Wyoming. So this country up here feels more like home to her than Texas ever did.”
His father grinned. “I couldn’t be more pleased. I think I mentioned that there’s a nice section to the south that would be a perfect place for a house. But in the meantime, no reason for you two not to stay in one of the cabins close by.”
Lantry laughed. His father had gotten what he wanted, what their mother had wanted. The Corbett family had all settled in Montana on the Trails West Ranch. Not only would Grayson have his family close by, he now had five daughters-in-law—all strong-willed and independent—and grandbabies on the way.
“So tell me, Dad. Was there ever really any letters from our mother?”
Grayson smiled. “You were always such a skeptic. I suppose you were destined to be a lawyer—at least for a while.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a yellowed envelope. “This one is for you, son.”
Lantry saw his name printed on the front in a small, neat hand. His heart dipped and rose as he took the letter from the mother he could barely remember.
“I just gave your brothers theirs,” Grayson said. “They wanted to wait until you all were married and had your letters before they opened them. I’ll leave you to it,” he said and left him alone.
Lantry turned the envelope over in his fingers. He had one clear memory of his mother he’d held on to all these years. It was of her leaning into his crib and touching his cheek as she sang softly.
He carefully opened the envelope and slipped out the single sheet of paper.
To my dearest Lantry,
And suddenly he could hear her sweet voice, feel the brush of her fingers across his cheek, the memory coming alive again as his heart swelled and his eyes filled with tears.
For a few minutes he had his mother back.
He just wished she’d lived long enough to see this day. Her wish had come true. All five of her sons were happily married to cowgirls—or at least women who were fast becoming Montana cowgirls.
Carefully, he put the letter back in the envelope and went to find his wife. His wife. He smiled at the memory of Dede in her wedding dress standing next to him before the altar. Some day she would sing to their babies.
He headed out the door of the main ranchhouse. He knew he’d find her down at the corrals with the new mare. What she didn’t know was that the horse was her wedding present, and one day she would ride again.
When he saw her leaning on the corral fence, his heart filled with so much joy and love he thought he might explode. A man didn’t deserve to be this happy.
As he watched her, the sun in her hair, lighting her blue eyes, he remembered something his father had once told him. A horse always knows its way home. So does a cowboy.