Some said she loved him too much. But how could you ever love a child too much? Children needed love…tons and tons of love. And fortunately, TJ was better—bouncing back the way five year olds do—and at this very moment, tearing away with her brothers in the groom’s dressing room. Even better, she hadn’t come down sick, herself, so everything was good.

Everything was fantastic.

Which was why her eyes burned a bit, and her heart thudded. The only thing that could make today perfect was if her mom and dad could have been here, and Grace, Gordon, and Ty…

There were days where she didn’t think about them, those who died at the house that day, and then there were days she couldn’t forget them. Today was one of them. But then, it was natural for a bride to wish her mom was there to help her dress, and her dad was there to walk her down the aisle…

She blinked hard, quickly, holding back the emotion even as the door to St. Jame’s bridal dressing room opened, and the delicate light bright strains of Vivaldi reached McKenna, the organist continuing to make her way through the prelude play list, and then the heavy oak door closed behind Paige Joffe, silencing the music.

“The church is full,” Paige said, hands on her hips. “The flower girls are in place. The bouquets are in the foyer. All we need is you.”

McKenna nodded and reached up to wipe beneath her eyes to make sure they were dry. “I’m ready.”

But Paige heard the wobble in McKenna’s voice and was immediately at her side, ruby red bridesmaid dress swishing. “What’s wrong, Kenna?”

McKenna shook her head, forcing a smile. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing!”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

“No!” McKenna’s voice rose, horrified. She didn’t have cold feet. Her nerves weren’t cold feet. Her nerves were an accumulation of emotion. Fear, hope, love, loss, longing.

But was there a bride who didn’t feel emotional? Was it such a bad thing to be a tiny bit apprehensive? She wasn’t a twenty-two year old virgin. She was a mother, and it’d been just her and TJ for years. Now she was moving her boy into a new home, another man’s home. Thank goodness Lawrence wasn’t like those testosterone driven alpha males who were all weird and territorial about raising another man’s child. He wanted to be a good stepfather. He wanted to do scouting with TJ and teach him to fish and how to throw a ball.

Not that Lawrence could actually throw a football. Or catch a pop up ball. But her brothers could teach TJ those things. Her brothers were tough and testosterone-fueled. What TJ needed was Lawrence’s quiet strength. His calm, his self-control.

So, no, Lawrence Joplin wasn’t a he-man, cowboy, athlete, bar room brawler. But he was invested in the community, and constantly giving back, which made him the right example for TJ Sheenan.