Hannah leaned toward her childhood bedroom window. Guests were claiming folding chairs around the gazebo, and there was just enough cloud cover to make the day comfortable for the guests and keep the flowers from wilting.
Burgundy roses adorned the aisle and every post of the gazebo. She hadn’t wanted something fancy, just simple—traditional. Chet would stand with Luke, and Janie was her maid of honor. No flower girl. No big reception.
The pink lace of Janie’s dress blocked her view. “He’ll see you.”
Hannah leaned back. “Oh, Janie, you look perfect.”
They had found Janie’s dress at a vintage shop in Chicago, but the long drive had been worth it. The pale pink dress straight out of the twenties, with its dropped waist and lace overlay, fit Janie as if it were made for her. And with her hair gathered in a mess of curls over one shoulder, she’d turn the head of any mob boss.
Hannah peeked out the window again. “I can’t believe I actually pulled off a wedding in two months.”
Janie held up the most recent edition of Reader’s Weekly, which boasted a photo of Heritage on the cover. “Hannah, you transformed this town enough to win a major contest in just four months. I had no doubt you could make this happen. Now where’s your veil?”
“Right here.” Aunt Lucy stepped into the room with the long veil draped between both arms. “It took a little extra work, but I got the stain out. Now it will look as beautiful as the day your great-grandmother wore it back in 1927.”
Hannah fingered the edge of the lace. The roses woven into the delicate fabric were almost a perfect match to the pattern in the lace that covered her dress from capped sleeve to modest train. Although modern, the dress had a definite twenties look, and the veil would complete it. “It’s perfect.”
Aunt Lucy lifted the headpiece, unshed tears clinging to her eyes. “May I do the honors?”
“Of course.” Hannah sat on the edge of the bed as Aunt Lucy secured the veil with bobby pins.
Janie’s hands flew to her face. “You make such a beautiful bride.”
“You will too. Are you sure I can’t talk you into a double wedding? I mean, you did buy your dress last week.” Hannah wiggled her eyebrows at her friend.
“Double wedding? I’m in.” Thomas burst through the door with a wide grin on his face. The men had opted for tan pants, a white button-down shirt, and no tie. It worked on Thomas, and she couldn’t wait to see Luke.
“No.” Janie laughed and swatted at Thomas. “We have a date and we’re sticking to it.”
“But it’s six months away.” Thomas’s voice took on the whine of a child being told no candy before supper. “A wedding today sounds much better.”
“You should have thought of that last summer.” Janie rose on her toes, planted a kiss on his lips, then walked to the door. “Now walk your sister down the aisle, and I will see you at the reception.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Thomas saluted his fiancée.
“I must go find my seat as well.” Aunt Lucy stepped back, giving Hannah a once-over. “Beautiful.” She kissed Hannah on the cheek and walked out the door, leaving only Thomas and Hannah.
“Aunt Lucy is right. You look amazing.” He blinked at her several times and then drew a deep breath. “And so much like Mom in her wedding photo.”
Hannah gazed back at her reflection and smoothed her dress. Same dark hair, same hazel eyes, same pearl necklace. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Four months ago it would have. But now?” Hannah reached up and touched the pearls. “I’ve learned I can be like her and not make the same mistakes.”
Music from the beginning of the processional drifted through the window, and Thomas held out his arm. “So, bug, are you ready to become Mrs. Luke Taylor?”
Hannah slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and tugged him toward the door. “More than ready.”