“Maybe Jake was. Maybe Sara was. Maybe Thatcher was. But I wasn’t. I was in love with this place: with its beauty, with its history. No, I wasn’t ready to let it go at all. And I was willing to do something drastic to save it. I stood in the main field, shading my eyes from the sun and watching a team of workers scramble to set up the big white tent we ordered from the rental company. This was no ordinary tent. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Several large chandeliers hung ...from the ceiling, surrounded by billowing gauzy fabric draped over white twinkling lights that would cast a soft glow as evening fell. It looked ethereal, magical, like something out of a dream. And that was only the beginning. All around me workers bustled with their preparations. They unloaded items off a nearby truck: gold Chiavari chairs, big round tables, and boxes of ivory linens. Tall, intricate candelabras filled the barn where the ceremony would be held.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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