Page 32 of May I Kiss the Bride
“I can’t believe I’m really getting married.” Viola gave a small laugh. “To a cowboy. And I’m going to be a stepmother, too.”
Aunt Beth slipped an arm about her waist. “You’ll find happiness every day of your life, dear. It’s not every man who would agree with his wife about working as a nurse.”
“Rey isn’t every man.” Viola tilted her head. “Besides, Elsie is excited to help me out after school. So it’s two against one.”
Aunt Beth chuckled. “You both have that man wrapped around your fingers. Now, let’s get you hitched.”
Viola turned away from the mirror and embraced her aunt. “Thank you for everything and for believing in me.”
“None of the sappy talk. You’ll make me cry off my makeup.”
The two women headed downstairs where Deputy Thatcher waited for them with a carriage that would take them to the church.
Even though the wind was cold and blustery, and the sky hung with low, gray clouds, most of the town had turned up. Carriages and wagons lined the front of the church while horses stamped to keep warm.
“Here we are, ladies.” Thatcher slowed the carriage in front of the church where someone had made sure there was room for the bride to arrive.
He handed both Viola and Aunt Beth down, then escorted them into the church. The organ music floated sweetly through the space, and everyone seated in the pews turned to look at Viola.
She grasped Thatcher’s arm and forced a smile even though her heart was hammering in her throat. At the front of the chapel, Rey stood, wearing a full suit. She almost didn’t recognize him with his slicked back hair and shaved face, but his smile was the same and those green eyes were the same.
The organ music changed to the wedding march, and Aunt Beth whispered, “It’s your turn, dear. I’ll see you after.”
Suddenly Elsie appeared, wearing a white velvet dress, matching Viola’s. Elsie held a basket of flower petals, and aftergrinning at Viola, she skipped down the aisle as she tossed petals. Most of them landed on the audience versus the floor, but no one seemed to mind.
Viola refocused on the man at the front of the church who watched her. She met his gaze, and even from a distance, she felt the warmth that was him.
“I’m ready,” she told Thatcher, and the pair of them began to walk down the aisle.
The music soared around them, and Viola tried to smile at those in attendance, but her throat was so tight that it was hard to turn her head.
A gust of wind brushed the back of her head. Someone had arrived late, and Viola didn’t think much of it until the music completely stopped. A man spoke in a rather loud voice behind her. “Is this the wedding of Viola Delany?”
“Are we too late?” a woman said.
Viola gripped Thatcher’s arm and turned slowly around. She knew both of those voices.
Her parents had walked into the chapel, wearing long coats, heavy hats, their eyes bright, and their cheeks flushed red.
“Are you married yet?” her mother asked, her voice hitching. “Are we too late?”
Viola’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t have spoken if she wanted to.
The rest of the audience stared as if stunned. Not even Thatcher could form a word.
“We’re not married yet, but if you’ll take a seat, then you can watch the ceremony.” Rey walked up the aisle. Tall and confident. He paused by Viola and bent to kiss her cheek. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Rey …” she whispered.
“Yes?” He merely gazed at her, his green eyes calm, like an interrupted wedding was an everyday occurrence.
“My parents are here.”
His gaze didn’t leave hers, but his eyes sparked. “I can see that.”
“Might I introduce you?”
“Of course.”
