Page 32 of A Week To Wed
I wince. “How about nine?”
“By nine, I’m in my bathrobe with a whiskey to calm my nerves. I never got over the stage fright, you see.”
“What is having you here by 9 p.m. going to cost me, Reverend?”
She hums thoughtfully. “Tell you what. I’ll charge you my standard fee, but you agree to make a donation to the children’s charity fund.”
The woman talks so slowly that I’m already clicking the “donate now” button before the words are out of her mouth. I hit the Apple Pay button lightning-fast. “Ten thousand enough?”
“Good heavens, child. I thought fifty would be adequate, but….”
“Fifty thousand? Done and done.”
There’s silence on the other end. “Oh. Oh, my. You’ll give this old woman a heart attack before her time. Thank you, dear. Thank you so much…I cannot wait to tell the mayor … my goodness, we’ll be able to afford renovations now….”
“And don’t forget. Nine p.m.”
“Yes, of course. Fifty thousand, my goodness. We have to make plans; we might have to start a foundation. This is a lot to think about. Goodbye, dear.”
I hang up and wonder if I did the right thing. She seems scatterbrained and overwhelmed. Perhaps I pushed it too far with that donation and flustered her? I was desperate. I’m that desperate, and I’ll do anything to ensure my Lincoln is married by midnight tonight. He’s not going to lose his ranch, and he’s not going to have to explain to anyone else about the marriage clause.
* * *
When it’s time to go, I wait patiently on the porch for Harley to pick me up. I’m thrilled, but right now is the time when I sort of wish I’d done things a little differently. I can see why a bride would want a gaggle of bridesmaids. But I left all those people behind, didn’t I? I fled to the mountains and didn’t tell anyone what I was doing until I sent out the e-vites.
But then I’m snapped out of my sad little daydream when Harley, dressed in a top hat, appears, driving a shiny, black, horse-drawn carriage.
I almost clap my hand over my mouth, but then remember my makeup. “This looks like something fit for a princess!”
“So it is,” Harley says, helping me situate my dress in the velvet-lined carriage.
We arrive at the ranch’s west end, down by the creek, right at sunset. White draperies are hung artfully from the trees, reflecting the purple and orange light shining over the water. Branches are hung with crystal and pearl chandeliers, catching the light and creating prisms everywhere I look.
Hattie, Harley, and Ray helped spread the word around town that the hour of the wedding had to be pushed back to nine p.m. and that everyone should come at eight p.m. instead to enjoy the dinner, dancing, and cocktails before the ceremony. Of course, it overextends all the vendors involved, but I’ve pre-paid everyone generous tips to bear with this chaos.
And looking around the room, I find myself enjoying this more. I love seeing all the guests enjoying themselves instead of waiting around, bored, for the ceremony to start.
I hadn’t planned it this way, but I like this.
It’s then that I see my groom walking toward me across the field. Look at him. I know I wanted him to wear tails, but there’s something to be said for a simple tailored suit. And for a man who hates suits and ties, he looks good enough to eat. All my nervousness drains away as he wraps me up in his arms.
“You look like an angel,” he says.
“And you look as tasty as a porterhouse steak,” I reply.
He laughs, and I turn my face up to receive a kiss.
“Later. Don’t want to ruin your makeup.”
I pout, but he’s resolute.
“Fine. At least, let’s find a secret corner for some heavy petting.”
Together, laughing, we walk to the bar to get some water instead.
My head is buzzing with happiness, and I feel like I’m still floating. These feathers on my dress might send me airborne.
That is, until I see the last people I ever expected to see at our wedding.
