Chapter 18

I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but I sat rooted to my chair, squirming as I replayed the phone call. Cody called me. I didn’t call him, so why do I feel I’ve been unfaithful?

Luke’s shoulders slumped as his arms fell to his sides. “That’s no?”

“No.” Guilt or no guilt, I jumped off the chair, snuggling against him until his arms enfolded me. “That’s definitely not no.” Conforming my body to his, I kissed him, communing nonverbally.

As he came up for air, he smiled. “That’s more like it.” Then looking about the cabin, he noticed the candle. “Why are all the lights off?” He tightened his grip. “Planning a romantic evening?”

“No, the power went out.”

“It did?” His arms fell to his sides. “When?”

“Right after you left.” I narrowed my eyes. “Where were you?”

“In the shed, but it never lost power.” He flicked the switch, and the room flooded with light.

“What the…?” I shook my head, questioning my memory. “After the lights went out, a shadow crossed the room, then lifted a veil—”

“Veil…Valentina?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Maybe the candlelight was playing tricks on my eyes, but I’d swear a see-through figure showed me its face before it floated through the door.”

“Not this again.” He met my gaze. “I thought we were rid of ghosts.”

“Me, too, but that’s what I saw.” I chewed my lip, debating whether to bring up another topic. “And speaking of ghosts…from the past…” Already regretting it, I hesitated.

“Yeah.”

“Cody called tonight.”

“And you answered?” His eyes burned into me.

“I thought it was you. The phone rang moments after you stormed out—”

“What did he want?”

“He said a sixth sense told him to call me, which is odd—”

“So now he’s simpatico?” His scowl telegraphed his scorn. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No, Cody’s just an old friend.” Isn’t he?

My phone rang.

Rather than interrupt our conversation, I turned off the ringer, but the vibration continued.

“Are you going to get that?” Luke gave me a withering glare. “Or won’t you answer Lover Boy while I’m here?”

Rolling my eyes, I pressed connect. “Hello.”

The line was dead.

Disconnecting, I shrugged. “Whoever it was hung up.”

“Lover Boy?”

“No.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Probably a wrong number.”

“Likely story…”

My phone rang again.

“Who is this?”

Static crackled, and Caller ID displayed 00000000.

“Hello?”

The white noise morphed into a mechanical vocalization of raspy vowels and consonants. “Guh…eeeeh…tuh…ooo…uuuu…tuh.”

I put the phone on speaker.

“Guheeehtuh oouuutuh.” The decibel level escalating from a whisper to a roar, the sounds continued until they formed words. “Get out! Get—”

My hand trembling, I disconnected. “What was that?”

“Valentina?”

“That’d be my guess. The way Marianna and Mateo wanted us together, maybe she wants us apart.” Recalling Luke’s depression and the tension between us, I winced. “Granted, we’re stressed about the wedding—”

“And the vineyard…”

“But I can’t help wondering if our bickering isn’t related to the bugs and weather.”

“Bugs?” He gave a skeptical laugh.

“Remember those swarms of horse flies and maggots on Valentina’s veil? Then the next day you found leafhoppers spreading Pierce’s Disease.”

“Probably coincidental, though the timing is uncanny.” He rubbed his jaw. “Okay, but you can’t blame her for the weather.”

“Maybe I can.” I tossed my chin. “I read an article about electromagnetic energy. To manifest, spirits have to pull heat from the surrounding air, causing the temperature to plummet. Think cold spots.” Recollecting the most recent event, I shook off a chill.

“Okay, heat’s a form of energy. I’ll give you that, but what do ghosts have to do with hail, rain, or lightning?”

“That same article said spirits feed off another form of energy—negative ions—and thunderstorms create negative ions. Think. These events all began after I found Valentina’s veil. I can’t help but believe she’s responsible for the storms and infestations.” Not to mention temptations. Cody’s hunch came to mind. Who or what was behind that call? Recalling Rosie’s warning, I faced Luke. “What did you do with that veil?”

“Threw it in the garbage. Why?”

“If that veil’s the link to Valentina, we need to burn it.” I grabbed the matches from the breakfast bar, then opened the door. “Come on.”

The wind swept the rain inside, drenching me and puddling on the floor.

“Wait ’til the storm ends.” He tried to shut the door.

“No, now.” Despite the deluge, I held my ground.

“Another few minutes won’t matter.” He shut the door.

“I’m not so sure. Ever since I bought that veil, it’s been one thing after another: flies, maggots, leafhoppers spreading Pierce’s Disease, wind, rain, hail, and…” Luke’s depression, my temptation. “Worst of all, our bickering.” I stared him down. “Let’s get rid of it, now, before it causes any more damage.”

“If you feel that strongly about it—”

“I do. Now, come on!” I pushed open the door.

Rain pounded the portico as a bolt of lightning struck the tombstone.

My adrenaline pumping, I yelped.

“Wait here, under the overhang. I’ll get the garbage can.” He dashed into the rain.

The air sizzled, and another bolt of lightning struck where he had stood.

His hackles rising, Teddy howled.

“Luke?” My heart pounded as I shouted into the storm.

The air hissed and crackled. Static electricity made my hair stand on end. A third bolt of lightning crashed beside the portico, forcing me back.

“Luke, are you all right?” The sky blazed with forked lightning while the rain hammered sideways, soaking me. The thunder deafening, my ears rang as I shouted into the darkness. “Luke?”

The rain sheeted off him as he sloshed the metal can through the mud. Another thunderbolt clapped and, on its heels, another just as he reached the overhang. He lifted the metal lid. “Go for it.”

I lit a match, and the wind blew it out. I lit a second, cupping my hand around the flame to protect it.

Thunder bellowed, while lightning floodlit the sky.

I tossed the match into the garbage can’s dry interior.

As the flames caught, took hold, and began engulfing the tulle, the wind howled like a wounded animal.

Thick, black smoke forced me back, choking me. But as the blaze ran out of fuel, the flames flickered, sputtered, and finally expired.

The embers dying, the wind stopped, and the rain dwindled to a drizzle.

I tucked my arm around Luke’s waist, hooking my thumb in his jeans’ belt loop. “Think this will free us of Valentina?”

****

The next morning, I pointed to a break in the clouds. “Look, a patch of blue.”

“The first I’ve seen in days. Maybe you were right about the veil.” His smile tender, he pulled me close. “Sorry I’ve been so detached the past few days. Now, what wedding plans did you want to discuss?”

I drew back my head, studying him. “You’re sure you want to discuss wedding plans?”

“Absolutely, and you’ll be happy to hear I’ve sent the invitations.”

“You did?” I breathed a sigh of relief, mentally checking it off our to-do list. “What about the wedding arch?”

“What do you think I was doing yesterday in the shed?”

“Really?” Why did I ever question his love? I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you!”

“It’s almost done—except for the post brackets I ordered, which are scheduled to be delivered this morning.”

Luke’s cell phone buzzed.

“Scratch that”—he scanned the message—“which just were delivered. How’s that for timing?” He reached for my hand. “Let’s check the mailbox.”

Our arms swinging between us like kids, I nearly skipped down the driveway.

But when he opened the box, his face fell.

“What’s wrong?”

Fingering the small package, he sighed. “They sent the wrong-sized brackets.”

“How can you be sure?”

“The wedding arch calls for seventeen-inch brackets.” He measured the package against his hand. “These are roughly seven inches.”

“Now what?”

He gave a dispirited shrug as he filed the report and reordered the brackets. Then he turned to me. “Just hope they arrive in time.”

****

That afternoon, I stopped by the local bakery. The front window displayed a Mexican embroidery cake, its piped buttercream mimicking Mexican floral patterns.

I sent Luke a snapshot.

Maeve—How’s this for our wedding cake?—

When he replied with a thumbs-up emoticon, I stepped inside to place the order.

Not five minutes later, Bea walked in, her cinnamon perfume overpowering the bakery’s sweet, yeasty aroma.

I turned my back, breathing shallowly to avoid the stench, as well as confrontation.

Making no attempt to recognize boundaries, Bea shouldered into my personal space, elbowing me as she eavesdropped.

Silently fuming, I shrugged her off.

“Be with you in a moment.” The shopkeeper grazed the newcomer with a perfunctory smile as she concluded my order. “We’ll deliver the cake next Friday morning at ten.”

“Better make that nine to be safe. Thanks.” I turned to leave.

“Don’t think your wedding will be any cakewalk.” Bea blocked my escape.

“Excuse me.” I sidestepped her.

“Never in a million years…” Bea smiled through her hiss.

****

I found Luke in the vineyard. “How’s the pesticide spraying going?”

“Done.” His relaxed smile spoke volumes.

“I’m so glad.” I took a deep breath before asking the next question. “Think you sprayed in time to save the vines?”

“Too early to say, but the odds are good.”

“Thank God.” Reassured, I hugged him.

“How’d it go with the wedding plans?”

“The to-do list is getting shorter.” Enjoying the security of his arms, I rattled off the morning’s accomplishments. “Besides ordering the cake, I stopped at the rental center. They’ll take care of the tent, tables, chairs, table linens, runners, napkins, disposable dishes, flatware, and glasses—both the set up and the cleanup.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good, that translates to more fun and less work on our big day.” His arms squeezed around me.

Despite our progress, a vague thought nagged. “I just feel we’re overlooking something. What are we forgetting?”

“Can’t think of anything.” He shook his head. “We’ve reconfirmed with the minister, sent the invitations—”

“And booked the venue…” I chuckled before snuggling against him. “Good thing we have an ‘in’ with the owners.”

“Isn’t it, though?” A warm chuckle tumbled from his lips.

My happiness was complete except for that one niggling thought. What haven’t we crossed off our list?

****

The reordered parts arrived Monday, and Luke assembled the wedding arch at the vineyard’s entrance near the patio’s far edge.

“It’s beautiful.” I raised my hands in a prayerful pose. “Once I trim it with off-white netting and add the flowers, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for our wedding.”

“No rain’s in the forecast so far.” Luke caught my gaze as he closed his phone’s app. “We don’t want any ‘clouds’ overshadowing our day.”

“Wish we could take out rain insurance.” I snickered at the idea.

“A weather permit.” He cackled at the thought.

“Permit! Crap!” I thumped my palm against my head. “That’s what we forgot!”

“What?”

“Our wedding license, and Rosie said Texas has a three-day waiting period.”

He checked his watch. “Too late to get it today. The county clerk’s office closed ten minutes ago.”

“No…” I began hyperventilating. “I can’t think. What day is it?”

“Monday. Tomorrow is Tuesday.” Wearing a gentle smile, Luke took me by the shoulders. “We’ll have the license in plenty of time.”

“Tomorrow’s cutting it close.” I shook my head, disgusted. “How could I forget?”

****

The next morning, when I tried to make coffee, the pipes gurgled, and the faucet ran dry. “What happened to the water?”

Luke turned on the bathroom faucet, and the pipes hissed. “Air’s trapped in the lines. I’ll have to bleed them.”

“Can you do that…in time, I mean?” I checked the clock. “The county clerk’s office opens in two hours…Let’s skip coffee. We can pick it up on the way.”

“Trapped air in the pipes means no water anywhere, not just in the kitchen. The irrigation system’s offline, and if the recovering vines aren’t watered, we’ll lose them for sure.”

“But this is the last day to get the marriage license.” My breathing became labored. “With the 72-hour wait, if we don’t get it today, we can’t be married Friday.”

“Relax.” His smile was sympathetic. “The office is open ’til noon and then again all afternoon.”

“Okay…” I busied myself, but at nine, impatience took over. “Almost done?”

“Not yet.” He wiped his brow, leaving a smudge on his face.

An hour later, I forced a smile. “Ready?”

He straightened his back. “Why don’t you get the license without me?”

“Doesn’t work that way.” I shook my head. “We both have to appear in person.”

He sighed. “I don’t know why bleeding the lines is taking so long, but another few minutes should do it.”

An hour later, I resorted to chewing my nails. “Done?”

His head and chest under the kitchen sink, he grunted. “Just about.”

At 11:40, he climbed from beneath the sink, turned on the tap, washed his hands and face, and grinned. “Ready.”

We hopped in the truck and, ten minutes later, parked in front of the county clerk’s office.

My heels clacking as I jogged along the sidewalk, I pulled Luke along. “Come on. The office closes in five minutes.”

A sign posted at the entrance showed the office hours: nine to noon and one to five.

I checked my phone as I tugged at the door: 11:56. But it didn’t budge. “Uh-oh…”

“Relax. We can have lunch and come back when they open at one.”

The midday sun was bright. The sky was clear, and the Lincoln Mountains seemed near enough to touch.

Encouraged by their beauty, I took a deep breath, remembering the first time I’d seen them. “Was that only three months ago that we met?” I shook my head as we walked to the drugstore. “Seems I’ve known you all my life.”

Five minutes later, we slid into a booth made from reclaimed wood. The same booth where Cody and I sat. My chest tightened. Guilty conscience?

“Coffee?” The question rhetorical, the waitress set two mugs and an urn on our table. “Want menus?”

Déjà vu—the same server that waited on Cody and me. I turned away.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed.

Without checking Caller ID, I knew who it was. Cody’s timing is more than a fluke.

“Going to answer it?”

Glancing at the name, I pressed decline. “No one important.” Is it? Cody’s timing is impeccable. Why did he call now? Valentina? I ordered a club sandwich but, too upset to eat, barely nibbled at it. “Luke, if we don’t get the license this afternoon, all our wedding plans—”

“Don’t worry.” He reached for my hand. “Worse comes to worst, we’ll go through the motions, then get married the next day. This isn’t the end of the world.”

At 12:55, we walked back to the county clerk’s office.

A note on the door read Closed with an emergency phone number listed.

No! Is this Valentina’s work…or a sign we shouldn’t get married? I breathed uneasily as I punched in the number, put my phone on speaker, and crossed my fingers.

A recording answered. “The office is closed Tuesday afternoon for a district meeting and reopens Wednesday morning at nine.”

How could I leave the marriage license until the last minute? Dragging my feet as I stumbled toward the truck, I nearly bumped into Mamie.

“What a surprise running into you two.” The woman’s face lit up in a friendly smile. “What are you up to these days?”

“Luke and I were applying for a marriage license—”

“Congratulations!”

“Were applying…past tense.”

While Luke shared the details, I recalled the woman’s research skills. “Do you have any ideas?”

“As a matter of fact…” Mamie’s puckered brow relaxed. “I’m headed to the library now. Come with me.” Within moments, she sat at a computer and found the link to the state’s online resources for licenses. “Fill out this application, while I check something.”

Ten minutes later, the form was printing as she returned with a man in tow. “This is Benjamin Polk, the county clerk.”

My jaw went slack. “Mamie, you’re a miracle worker.”

“Not really. The first Tuesday of every month, the district holds its meeting in the boardroom.” She smiled as she clapped the clerk’s shoulder. “Ben will take it from here.”

“Good to see you again.” The gray-haired man shook hands with Luke. “How can I help?”

“Can you issue us a marriage license?”

“I can as long as you both have your driver’s licenses, the fee, and the signed form.”

“Here’s the form.” I pulled the paper from the printer, signed it, and handed Luke the pen. “Your turn.” Then I faced Ben. “More importantly, can we still get married as planned?”

“As long as your wedding takes place 72 hours from now.” He checked his watch. “Which means after one thirty Friday…what time’s your ceremony?”

****

I woke screaming.

“What’s wrong?” Luke’s voice breathless, he vaulted from his air mattress.

“I dreamt Valentina showed up at our wedding.”

“How do you know it was Valentina?”

“I recognized her veil.”

“It’s just pre-wedding jitters.” He leaned over the bed to kiss me. “Go back to sleep.”

I nodded and lay in the dark, tossing and turning until I slipped into a fitful doze.

Again, Valentina visited my dreams, this time, lifting back her veil to reveal a pronounced cleft palate. Her scarred, upper lip hooked to her nose, and her bottom lip protruded. Then gradually her face morphed into Bea’s, exposing a faint scar on Bea’s upper lip, and the scent of cinnamon filled the air.

The microwave beeped, waking me with a start.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Luke brought me a coffee mug and a steaming cinnamon roll. “Thought you’d like to start the day with a sugar rush.”

As I inhaled the aroma, my dream made sense. “Didn’t know you were a pastry chef.”

“I’m not.” He snickered. “But I can open a can and pop ’em in the oven with the best of ’em.”

I tried to smile my thanks but apparently didn’t succeed.

His grin faded. “Rough night?”

****

Wednesday night, what started as a sweet dream soured. After the minister said, “Speak now or forever hold your peace,” Bea stepped from behind the wedding arch and seized Luke’s hand.

Instead of pulling away, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her in front of the gaping assembly. Then they ran off through the vineyard, hand in hand, leaving me, staring.

The dream changed. Now, Luke and I were newlyweds at our reception, cutting our wedding cake together.

Bea appeared from nowhere, lifted the cake with both hands, and pitched it at us. Then she broke a wine bottle against the table and, using the sharp edge as a short-range weapon, lunged at Luke. “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

I sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. Trying to get my bearings, I glanced about the cabin. Luke’s air mattress was empty, and Teddy was nowhere in sight. Did I oversleep? Slumping back against the pillows, I glanced at the time. Six. But the wall clock was crooked, as if someone had bumped into it, and the framed photo near the fireplace was askew.

The cabin door squeaked open with a drawn-out whine.

I scrambled to my feet.

As Teddy bounded inside, Luke poked his head in, then strode over. “Good, you’re awake.”

I took a deep breath and kissed him, preferring reality to my nightmare. “Were you redecorating?”

“What do you mean?”

I gestured at the wall-hangings. “Instead of noon at the top, the clock’s tilted, so 11:55 is at the top—and the photo’s crooked, too.”

“That’s odd.” Straightening both, he shrugged. “Maybe a slamming door jolted them.”

“Maybe…”

“Coffee?”

“Definitely, and in copious amounts.”

He crossed to the kitchen, poured me a cup, then set a spoon and sugar bowl on the bar. “Another rough night?”

“The only good thing about nightmares is waking up from them.” Chuckling as I reached for the sugar, I yelped.

Though the lid was still on the bowl, sugar had spilled across the bar and onto the floor.

I caught Luke’s gaze. “Valentina?”

****

The next night, when I dreamt the minister said, “Speak now or forever hold your peace,” Cody jumped up from the back row.

“Don’t go through with this wedding, Maeve. I’ve never stopped loving you. Come with me to Las—”

Two groomsmen caught him under the arms and escorted him from the vineyard.

With his shouts still ringing through the air, Bea strode toward me in a white bridal gown. “Luke can’t marry you.” Carrying an enormous bouquet, she stared me down. “He’s marrying me!”

Two guests tried to usher her from the ceremony.

But Bea broke free from their grasp. “If I can’t have Luke, no one will.” She pulled a handgun from her bouquet, aimed at Luke, and squeezed the trigger.

“No!” I woke on our wedding day in tears. What’s Bea planning?

****

The morning flew by in a flurry of last-minute instructions and preparations.

The baker delivered the wedding cake, but instead of frothy white buttercream, the frosting was inky black and festooned with sugar skulls. In place of the traditional bride and groom figurines, two Calavera-Catrina skeletons topped the multilayered cake, and a banner across it read, ’Til Death Do Us Part.

“A Day of the Dead cake?” I gasped. “Is this cake someone’s idea of a joke?”

The delivery man pulled out the receipt. “Your name’s Maeve Jackson, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but this isn’t the Mexican embroidery cake I ordered.” Ready to burst into tears, I scrolled through my phone’s photos. “How could you mistake that floral motif on white frosting for skeletons on black?”

He reread the receipt. “You cancelled that cake Monday and placed this order instead.”

Luke turned toward me. “More of Valentina’s handiwork?”

Recalling Bea’s behavior in the bakery, I shook my head. “My money’s on her great-great-granddaughter.”

“Wait a minute…” Luke moved in for a closer look. “We can fix this.”

“How?” Groaning, I slumped into a chair. “This cake’s for All Souls’ Day—not a wedding.”

He turned to the delivery man. “Can the bakery add a Y at the end?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“So instead of ’Til Death Do Us Part, it reads ’Til Death Do Us Party.” Luke gave my shoulder a friendly shake. “What do you think?”

Torn between laughing and crying, I smiled through my tears. “ ‘Y’ not?”

****

At noon, the bakery redelivered the cake. As that van drove off, a refrigerated flower truck arrived. But when the driver opened the back doors, he gasped from the blast of frigid air.

Afraid to ask, I steeled myself. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how this happened, but the flowers froze.” He checked the frost covered dial. “The thermometer’s always set to 55 degrees Fahrenheit. Now it reads seventeen.”

“Are the flowers salvageable?” I looked past him at the truck’s wilted blooms.

He shook his head. “They’re stiff now, but when they thaw, they’ll be a slimy mess.”

“The wedding’s in four hours.” I glanced at my watch, estimating the time to set up. “Can you deliver fresh floral centerpieces, boutonnieres, flower girl’s rose petals, bridal bouquet, aisle decorations, and arch garlands in the next hour?” I waved Luke over.

“It’s too late to order from the warehouse.” The man stuttered. “All I can do is deliver what’s in stock, and since we’re short-staffed today, the best I can promise is two hours.”

I turned as Luke approached. “Did you hear?”

Nodding, he shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Sorry…” The man closed the truck’s back doors. “I’ll make this a rush order, but…” He grimaced before stepping in his truck.

Luke put his arm around me as he gestured to the blue skies. “It’s a beautiful morning. You’re a lovely bride, and today’s our wedding day. Let’s not worry about details.”

“You’re right.” Despite the setbacks, I forced a smile. “But I can’t help wondering if Bea tampered with the thermostat.” Then the cold spots, hail, and thunderstorms came to mind. Or is this Valentina’s handiwork?

****

The rental company called, apologizing for the delay.

I breathed deeply, taking it in stride.

Two hours later, the florist delivered the flowers. But instead of roses with soft pink centers and champagne-colored petals, he brought orange mums and purple daisies.

The rental company arrived an hour before the wedding. As they set up the chairs, I rushed about, arranging the arch and aisle flowers. Then placing the centerpieces on the tables—the last task before getting dressed—I realized they had set up the tables on the grass. “What happened to the tent I ordered?”

The manager referred to her list. “Oops, my bad.” She gestured toward the clear skies. “But don’t worry. No rain’s in the forecast.”

What else? Though annoyed with the woman’s cavalier attitude, I was too beat-down to object. I checked the time: 3:10 pm. Fifty minutes until I walk down the aisle, and I haven’t even showered.

After tucking the boutonnieres, flower girl’s petals, and bridal bouquet in the fridge, I showered, slipped into my antique tea dress, and checked my reflection in the mirror. Something’s missing…the brooch. I pinned the cameo to my bodice and assessed the effect.

This time, instead of my outdoor glow and short bob, the mirror image showed a buttermilk complexion and upswept Gibson Girl hairdo.

Marianna?

Teddy barked.

I blinked, and my reflection appeared normal. Overactive imagination?

A rap at the door drew my attention, followed by Rosie’s voice. “Knock-knock.”

“Come in.” I checked the time: 3:40 pm. “The door’s unlocked.”

Stepping inside, Rosie gasped as she spread her hands. “You look positively radiant.”

“Bet you say that to all the brides.” I felt the heat creep into my cheeks.

“I’m serious. You’re glowing.” Rosie gave an apologetic grin. “Sorry I’m late. We had a slight problem—”

“Oh, no!” My heart skipped a beat. “The staff walked out? The kitchen caught fire?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Chuckling, she shook her head. “We had a power outage, and—”

“All the food spoiled?” I groaned. What next?

“No, the food prep just took a little longer than expected. That’s all.” Rosie rested her hands on my shoulders. “Everything’s under control—I’m just running a few minutes late.”

Recounting the day’s mishaps, I gave a deep sigh. “I don’t think I could handle another glitch.”

“These are just pre-wedding jitters. Relax.” Rosie gave my shoulder a friendly shake. “The weather’s perfect for an outdoor wedding—and you look like you stepped out of a bride’s magazine.”

I brightened at the compliment.

“All you’re missing is your veil.”

“Which reminds me, can you anchor it, so it doesn’t slide off?” I handed over the hair vine. “Be right back with the veil.”

After several minutes, Rosie called, “Need any help?”

“Just a minute.” I rummaged through the clothes closet. “I know I hung it here after ironing out the wrinkles.” When I reached the end of the rack without finding it, I started at the far end, searching again, hanger by hanger.

After several minutes, Rosie joined me. “Maybe you left the veil at Luke’s place, or would you have put it in the hope chest?”

“No.” Frustrated at the delay, I shoved the clothes to one side and began sorting through them, one by one. “I put it right here.”

“Mind if I look around?”

I glanced at my watch: 3:50 pm. I bit my lip. “Sure.”

“Here it is!” Grinning, Rosie held up the veil.

“Where was it?” My head pounding, I pressed my fingers into my temples.

“In the hope chest…”

“What?”

Rosie’s smile faded. “In the—”

“I heard you. I just can’t believe it.” My eyes brimming over with frustrated tears, I massaged my temples. “I know I hung it in the closet.”

Rosie shrugged. “Somehow it got in the hope—”

A rap at the door interrupted. “Luke wants to know if you’re ready.”

I swiped at my tears. “Give me ten minutes.” Then I recalled the flowers in the fridge. “Can you take the boutonnieres and give the flower girl these rose petals?” I handed over the flowers, set my bouquet on the table, and slumped into a chair.

Rosie gently shook my arm. “Come on. This is your big day. Don’t let ants ruin the picnic.”

“But it’s been one thing after another…I think the universe is conspiring against our wedding.”

“That’s just stress talking.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Let me attach the veil. Then I’ll wrap this bridal hair vine around your head like a tiara.”

Ten minutes later, strains of Pachelbel’s Canon in D drifted into the cabin.

“That’s our cue.” Rosie smiled. “Ready?”