The assault on Buckshot.
The attempt to provoke the crowd.
The grabbing of Maggie.
Bell listened without interrupting.
When Reese finished, Bell looked at Deacon.
"I'm sorry."
Deacon nodded.
"Help the dog."
Bell looked down.
Buckshot slowly emerged from beneath the altar.
A veterinarian was already being called.
Then Bell noticed the patch.
"Elias."
Deacon touched it.
"My son."
Bell's expression softened.
"I remember."
Deacon looked surprised.
Bell nodded.
"Small town. Everybody remembers the families who lose somebody."
Deacon looked away.
For the first time that afternoon, his shoulders sagged.
Not from defeat.
From grief.
The Wedding
An hour later, the clearing was quiet again.
Delgado and Reese were gone.
The wedding guests had repaired the chairs.
Someone swept up the broken glass.
The preacher found his Bible.
Buckshot was resting beneath the shade with a veterinarian examining his paw.
And Maggie stood beside Deacon.
"You ready?"
Deacon looked at her.
"For what?"
"To get married."
He smiled.
"I thought that part was ruined."
Maggie shook her head.
"No."
She touched his face.
"Today showed me exactly who you are."
Deacon looked at the men around them.
His brothers.
His family.
Then he looked at Elias's patch.
Maggie whispered:
"He'd be proud of you."
Deacon's eyes became wet.
He nodded.
"I hope so."
The preacher stepped forward.
Everyone took their seats.
The music began again.
This time, nobody interrupted.
Deacon took Maggie's hands.
"I waited eleven years."
She smiled.
"Long enough."
"I should've done this sooner."
"You've always been slow."
The crowd laughed.
Deacon looked at her.
"I love you."
Maggie squeezed his hands.
"I know."
The preacher smiled.
"Then let's finish what we started."
The Patch
The ceremony ended just before sunset.
The desert sky turned orange.
Motorcycles reflected the fading light.
Buckshot slept peacefully beside Deacon's boots.
The Brotherhood gathered around their road captain.
One of the older veterans stepped forward.
He removed his own club patch.
"We should add something."
Deacon looked at him.
"What's that?"
The man pointed at Elias's name.
"Nobody should forget."
One by one, the others nodded.
Another man removed his patch.
Then another.
They weren't surrendering their identities.
They were honoring someone who had never gotten the chance to grow old.
Maggie watched as Deacon touched the faded letters.
"Elias Vance."
His son.
His boy.
His Marine.
His reason.
Deacon looked at his brothers.
"Don't make this about me."