had a few funny idiosyncrasies. Like the way she flitted around the room, obsessing over the placement of coasters or holding her splayed fingers above her head to test the airflow from the AC ducts. Funny, but also amusing and sort of endearing. He could only assume those former husbands of hers were idiots for letting her go.
“Easy does it,” he muttered under his breath. He was here to restore his faltering relationship with his children. Not find his next romantic interest.
Must be Sweetheart Ranch. There was something about a place where love abounded. Hard to steel oneself against the effects.
“Thanks for your help earlier.”
Owen gave a start. Where had Molly come from? Last he’d seen, she’d been straightening pictures that didn’t need straightening and refanning the precisely fanned napkins.
“My pleasure,” he said, trying not to stare.
“And thanks for coming this afternoon. People will enjoy meeting you.”
“Do I look minister-y enough? I wasn’t sure what to wear. Marisa picked this.” He tugged on the hem of his leather vest, a recent gift from his mother. The brand for his brothers’ ranch was burned on the front. “Not sure I should rely on the opinion of a three-year-old.”
“Three-and-a-half,” Molly corrected him. “She was quite adamant about that when we were wiping down the folding chairs.”
“Six months is important when you’re her age.”
“She’s cute. All your kids are.”
“Thanks, but I can’t take the credit. Any good genes they got came from their mother.”
Molly studied him at length, long enough for him to feel the effects. “I think they take after you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
She didn’t answer, fussing with an imaginary wrinkle on her dress.
Owen suppressed a chuckle. She liked him. Liked his looks, anyway.
“Having planned two of your own weddings must come in handy for being in a wedding coordinator.” He admitted to himself that he was fishing for information.
Molly took the bait. “I’ve never been married.”
“No?”
“I was engaged twice and, as Nora mentioned, I did the planning.”
But had broken off the engagements, evidently. “What happened, can I ask?”
She drew in a breath. “No offense, Owen, but I have no desire to share details with you about our pasts.”
“No offense taken.” He agreed the timing was bad and shifted gears. “This house is incredible.”
Molly visibly relaxed. “It was built in the late 1800s by my great-great-grandparents. They came to Arizona from back east and were one of the original families to settle in the Mustang Valley.”
“You have deep roots here.”
“Very deep. Growing up, Bridget and I spent every summer with our grandparents. They owned the local inn and put us to work as soon as we were big enough to push a laundry cart and kept us working part-time all through high school and college.”
“Nothing like learning the business from a young age.” Owen could boast a similar experience. He’d come from a rodeo family going back three generations. “Where’d you work before coming here?”
“For a couple different big hotel chains.”
“Which ones? I’ve stayed in a lot of hotels.”
“I like working for a family business much better. It’s hard but the rewards are worth it.”
She’d purposefully avoided answering his question. Owen was curious why but didn’t press her.
“There’s a lot to be said for being your own boss. Can’t say the idea hasn’t occurred to me.” He’d spent a few interesting hours researching.
“What kind of business appeals to you?” Molly asked.
“Retail. Sales. Something along those lines.”
“Because that’s where your talent lies.”
He winked. “One of them.”
She glanced away, sending a very clear message. She didn’t welcome his flirting.
Owen curbed his impulses. Being friendly was part of what had made him a top-earning salesman, but he’d gone one step too far with Molly.
“I tend to talk a lot,” he confessed. “But I’m also a good listener. Two traits that might come in handy while covering for Uncle Homer.”
“People do love to talk about their weddings.”
The sound of the front door opening alerted them to the arrival of guests. Molly went instantly into hostess mode, rushing to the foyer to greet them and take their coats. Escorting them to the parlor, she pointed out the refreshments and introduced them to Owen, using his uncle as an ice breaker.
Here, he was in his element and easily launched into polite conversation. An hour into the open house, he was recruited to talk to the TV reporter. Having done interviews during his rodeo days, he was comfortable in front of a camera as well. During all the mingling and schmoozing, he kept an eye on Molly, watching her as she gracefully moved from person to person. No one went without beverages or hors d’oeuvres if she could help it. Judging by the many compliments he overheard, the open house was a huge success.
He was just thinking it was time to go to the cabin and swap babysitting duties with Nora when Molly appeared beside him.
“Have you practiced for tonight’s wedding?” she asked.
“Not really.”
“Do you think you should?”
“Do you?” In truth, he’d planned on winging it. That had worked just fine when his buddy got hitched.
“I watched the video earlier of the wedding you officiated.”
“How? Where?”
“I Googled you. Your friends have a wedding website. The video’s posted there.”
“That’s right.” He’d forgotten.
“You were a bit...unrehearsed.”
“We improvised.” And they’d all enjoyed a good laugh afterward at those unrehearsed moments.
“I don’t recommend improvising again. Not to nitpick, but this is our very first wedding. We have a lot riding on it.”
“Uncle Homer left me copies of a few of his more popular ceremonies.”
“Notes are okay. Just try not to appear like you’re reading from them. Glance up at the couple and out at the guests. Make eye contact. Humor is great, too. A touch will help put the couple at ease. But don’t go overboard, or you’ll spoil the ceremony. Be earnest and sincere and, most of all, likable. This is a once in a lifetime experience for the bride, the groom and their families. Our job is to make it special and memorable and perfect.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Owen’s stomach started to tighten. He hadn’t been nervous until now.
“Don’t forget to smile, though not too much, at the appropriate intervals. And stand up straight. You’ll be filmed and photographed the entire time.”
Owen squared his shoulders and drew in a deep breath. Had he slouched before?
“Remember to speak clearly and project.”
“Got it.”
He tugged on his shirt collar. When he’d officiated at his buddy’s wedding, most of the guests had been his friends, too. People he’d known