Read Happy Is The Bride Online
Authors: Caroline Clemmons
Wait. He stopped and scratched his head. Come to
think of it, she hadn't said a word about love. No matter, she must love him or she wouldn't have asked him
to marry her.
Mason wiped his brow with his bandana. "All I have
to do is tolerate the endless details Mrs. Pendleton in
sists on and make it through today. Come nightfall,
Beth'll be my wife, and we can live out here without
anyone interfering."
Mason didn't know what, but since he'd an
nounced his engagement, something had bothered
Rowdy. Now the lanky older man mumbled something under his breath.
"What was that?" Mason leaned forward to hear.
Rowdy stopped and leaned on his pitchfork. "Sorry,
boss, I didn't mean you to hear that."
"Not sure I heard right. Say it again."
Rowdy took a deep breath before he spoke. "You
know folks say she's jinxed?"
Yeah, Mason knew and he hated it, but he counted to ten and reined in his anger. Losing his temper
sev
enteen years ago had landed him in the fight that
resulted in his smashed leg. Since then, he'd tried to control his fury and succeeded—except in one area.
Hearing things against Beth always riled him. He'd
done his share of brawling in vain attempts to silence
the talk. Folks loved to gossip, and evidently that in
cluded his hired hand.
Mason vowed nothing would spoil his wedding day,
so he counted to ten a second time and went back to
forking. "Don't believe that superstitious nonsense.
Good or bad, each of us makes his own luck."
He tossed another forkful of straw, and his knee
gave way. Standing on the edge of the loft, he grabbed
for the roof support as he lost his balance. His hand
barely missed the post, and he flew off the edge.
***
"Boss? Boss? You okay?"
Mason opened his eyes and wiped the moisture
from his face. "Did you throw water on me?"
"Didn't know what else to do." Rowdy leaned over
him. "Hit your head on the side of the wagon.
Knocked yourself plumb out. Good thing you landed
on the straw."
"So you drenched me?" Mason sat up and held his
shirt from his body. Hot as it was, the cooling effect of
the water wasn't bad.
"Couldn't wake you up. Scared me something
awful, so I fetched the water bucket and doused you.
Then you come to."
"Thanks." Mason struggled up, conscious of an
aching head and soaked clothes.
Rowdy leveled a knowing look at Mason. "See, I told you. The jinx done started."
"There's no jinx! I fell because this damned leg gave
way. It's done that for seventeen years."
Mason explored the lump high on his forehead. What a damn fool thing to happen on his wedding
day. Maybe he could comb his hair differently to hide
the lump and the bruise sure to follow.
"Gee, boss, I don't know." Rowdy stared up at the
loft and back to the wagon. "You ain't never fell outta
the loft before. I think it's 'cause of the jinx."
'Told you
there is no jinx!
Get in the wagon." Mason
hadn't meant to snap at Rowdy, but—with or without
counting to ten—that kind of talk about Beth heated
his temper. "This is enough straw. Let's get on over to
the chapel."
****
Beth paused with a fern stem in her hand and
scanned the small sanctuary. Though she would have
preferred using the larger church in town, she ad
mitted a fondness for this little chapel near the
Medina River. The white frame building stood at the
edge of a small clearing by a steep slope. Six steps led
up to the small porch at the front, but the rear of the
building suspended into space and rested on high
rock pillars.
On the hillside nearby was the small cemetery
where some of Beth's kin were buried. Her mother's
father had died twenty years ago of a stroke; his wife
had died ten years later in the same influenza epi
demic that had taken Rachel's mother and younger
brother. Rachel's father had been thrown from a
horse and struck his head against a stone five years ago. Beth knew there were plots marked off for her
own parents when their time came, but she hoped
that wouldn't be for many decades.
Beth's mother and father had wed in this chapel al
most thirty years ago, and Mrs. Pendleton had insisted
Beth wed here. Since then, the town had moved the
other direction. Time had passed the chapel by, and
now it stood a half mile from any other buildings.
In spite of the short notice, Beth's mother had
forged ahead with plans for an elaborate wedding and
reception. Mrs. Pendleton hired a local man to shine
the windows and clean the chapel, which saw little use
nowadays. On the lectern hung a white silk cloth on
which Beth had embroidered linked wedding rings
flanked by turtledoves in silver and gold thread. A half
dozen candles in a brass holder flanked each side of
the altar.
"Bethany, you're doing that all wrong. The vases
need to be fuller." Beth's mother pushed her out of
the way. "If I want a thing done right, I have to do it
myself."
Beth sighed and watched her mother stuff more
greenery and flowers into the already full urn at one
side of the altar lectern. Beth had liked it best the way
she'd arranged it, graceful instead of overblown, but she supposed her mother knew best.
The unjust accusation hurt Beth. "Beulah and I are
helping, Mother. And we cut all the greenery and
flowers for you." Yesterday Beulah and Beth had cut
flowers from the Pendleton garden and those of
friends, plus ventured into the woods for ferns and
other greenery. They'd woven garlands from part of
the greenery on lengths of wire. "Besides, we could hare hired someone local to do this."
Her mother rewarded her with a glare. "And leave
aft this to chance? I think not. No, it's a considerable
burden to me on such a busy day, but I'll make certain
the chapel looks properly decked out for a Pendleton
wedding."
Beth picked up a white silk ribbon and tied it on
the end of a pew.
"Not like that, dear. Must I do everything? We want
them fuller." Mrs. Pendleton tugged the bow, then left it
looking exactly as Beth had tied it. 'There, doesn't
that look better?"
Beth bit her tongue to stop the angry retort that sprang into her mind. She wanted this day to end.
Once she'd thought this big wedding with her perfect
dress was important. Now she just wanted the cere
mony and reception behind her. She longed to be at Mason's home—no, Mason's and her home—where
they could relax and enjoy each other's company
away from constant criticism or unfair gossip.
Beulah tapped her foot. "Mrs. Pendleton, if you're
gonna redo everything me and Beth does, then we
might as well leave you here and go home. I gots them
cakes to frost and all."
Beth's mother struck what Beth thought of as her
martyred pose. "Does no one appreciate that I'm try
ing to uphold our position in society? The people in
this town look to the Pendletons to set the standard of
good taste. It's my duty to present the most gracious
and elegant decorations possible with such short no
tice."
Beulah rolled her eyes and picked up a length of
ribbon.
Beth didn't argue, but she suspected the people in
town didn't give a fig about the decorations. They already thought she and her parents were snobs. Those
who attended the wedding would come in hopes of
seeing Beth jilted again and her parents embarrassed.
This time, the naysayers would be disappointed.
Mason would show up, and the wedding would pro
ceed without a hitch.
"Yes'm, Mr. Ransom did at that." Beulah picked up
another ribbon.
Beth returned to the pews and tied more bows.
When she had finished one side of the wide aisle and
Beulah completed the bench ends of the other side,
they stood at the back of the chapel and admired the
effect. She had to give her mother credit; the chapel
looked beautiful—just as lovely as it had when she was
to have wed George Denby and her mother brought
in that expensive wedding consultant.