Rhyan squeezed Carianne’s hand. “Right now.”
The pastor’s jaw slacked, and eyes, the shade of faded blue jeans, popped. “Now? Impossible.”
Rhyan and Carianne shared a glance. “We know it’s short notice,” he said, then addressed Carianne, “We can get Brother Hal to marry us.”
Mrs. Eckert stopped them by blocking the door. “Have no fear. Pastor will marry you.” Somehow she wedged her round little body into the corner behind her husband.
Pastor Eckert cleared his throat. “Of course I shall, but you’ll want everyone to share the day. That’ll take a little time.”
Mrs. Eckert went into a litany of everything a proper wedding entailed.
Rhyan felt Carianne’s grip tighten as they listened to their wedding plans crumble.
“Mr. Cason, you must understand how the people of this town feel about you. Why they take great pride in you and your ranch. You’re a favorite son. And naturally, they’ve come to love Carianne. You understand they’ll want to take part in an occasion as important as your wedding.”
His wife’s head bobbed vigorously. “Think of Rachel and Myra and Dorcas and Emma. They’d be terribly hurt if they weren’t a part of the ceremony.”
He turned to meet Carianne’s defeated gaze. She was waiting for him to make the decision, as she’d probably expect him to make all the big decisions in their lives. He might as well get used to it. That was the duty of a husband. But if he wanted a happy marriage, he’d always seek her counsel first. “Do you want a wedding, honey?”
“We should invite our friends, but I don’t want to set the date too far—”
She moistened her lips, tempting him into stealing a kiss. Her mouth quivered, tasting as sweet and warm as a marshmallow straight from the oven.
“Ah hum.” The pastor’s smile belied his tone. “It may take a while to plan. A wedding is a celebration for the entire community, and for a couple of your stature, the wedding must be, well…big.”
“My dear,” Mrs. Eckert piped in. “Your dress is pretty, but not for the bride of Rhyan Cason. In Lady Godsey’s latest book I saw the most beautiful white gown in Chinese silk with the finest lace and real pearl trim.”
“Have you got a ring?” Pastor Eckert tossed the question to Rhyan.
He hadn’t given a thought to the ring. All he wanted to do was take his bride to Sollano and make her his wife. “I want Carianne to have my grandmother’s rings.”
“Good, good. A lot of things will have to be done, but the whole town will help.”
“How long would it take you ladies to prepare for the wedding?” Rhyan asked.
“Oh with everyone helping, maybe two months.”
Carianne’s nails dug into his palm. “No, we’ll give it two weeks,” he said.
Mrs. Eckert’s eyes bugged and her hand flew to her mouth like he’d told her to fly out the window. “Impossible. It’ll take longer than that to make the gown and—“
Rhyan interrupted. “I’ll give you an unlimited budget, and you make all the decisions. I don’t want Carianne’s time monopolized.” He grinned, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I intend to do that.” Beginning now.
Mrs. Eckert fluttered like a bird, whispered something in her husband’s ear and turned back to them. “It’ll be a Herculean task. I’ll have to call in everyone.” She laid a hand on her husband, who looked befuddled. “You’ll have to send out wires, dear, to all the newspapers. The Church won’t hold but a hundred at most. There’ll be spill over.”
“Few will come at this late date.” Rhyan couldn’t imagine people would travel far to attend a hastily arranged wedding.
Mrs. Eckert nodded, knowingly. “Oh, they’ll come. This is the event of the decade.”
“All right, two weeks from Saturday, three o’clock,” he said. “We’ll be there, just tell us what to do. In the meantime, I’m going to pay court to my intended every spare minute she’ll give me.”
Chapter 27
Carianne saw little of Rhyan during the following days.
He kept his word to spend every spare minute with her. Trouble was, there were few spare minutes. But he did manage to drop by every evening after dinner to take her for a turn around the yard, the only place left for any privacy.
Emma moved in with her to play chaperone, not that one was needed. The house filled with ladies from dawn till dark to finalize plans for the wedding and to gab and give all sorts of advice, whether needed or not.
When Aunt Jewell arrived from Philadelphia, Emma took her to the Double Bar H ranch, declaring there was no room in Carianne’s small house for either Aunt Jewell or her. Besides, Carianne’s friends from her college days were due in soon.
The next day, Carianne opened the door for Adela, Ramee, and Prudie, who burst in through the door with squeals of exuberance. After they squeezed the daylights out of each other, she noticed a tall, bearded man standing quietly, holding a large box.
“My husband, Erich, Carianne,” Prudie said. Adela’s and Ramee’s husbands hadn’t accompanied them because summer was the busy season for farm and ranch.
Prudie had already explained since she was seven months with child, Erich wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Prudie was more beautiful than ever, and her bulge showed every month.
Adela laughed. “It’s all right. Prudie’s at the perfect stage, far enough along not to suffer morning sickness and not advanced enough to have swollen feet."
Prudie nudged Carianne in the ribs. “Not to mention, I can eat everything in sight, and it all goes to the baby.” As if the slender Prudie ever had to worry about gaining weight.
“Expect to be indulged at the reception.” Carianne sidled to the couch without taking her eyes off her friends. “I don’t know exactly what’s on the menu, but the volume is going to be enormous. I might not have mentioned it, but the reception is going to be at the ranch.”
“Good,” Adela said. “I feel like I already know what it looks like from your letters.”
“I don’t remember if I described the ballroom, but you’ll get to see it, and I want each one of you to dance with my new husband.”
Prudie laughed. “I’d love to, if you don’t mind me bumping into him with this watermelon I’m carrying.”
Carianne squeezed her arm. Rhyan would love Prudie’s droll sense of humor. “I don’t, and he won’t either.”
“Tell Erich where you want the box.” Ramee hooked Carianne by the arm. “It’s your wedding dress.” Ramee had brought it all the way from her dressmaker’s shop in California.
Carianne clapped like a child at a birthday party. Every woman in the world from palaces to shanties, got excited over her wedding dress.
Her attention went to Erich, still propped against the door. Looking as out of place as a bull at milking time, he shifted the box, and shook Carianne’s proffered hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Carianne. I feel like I already know you from all Prudie has told me.”
“It is indeed a pleasure. I’ll get Rhyan to introduce you to the Landrys, they own our mercantile, and you may be able to share some ideas.”
“You’ll get Rhyan to do it, huh?” Prudie sidled between them. “You’re already learning how to manage a husband, I see.”
Carianne laughed. “He won’t mind at all.” Besides, no one but God could manage Rhyan Cason.
Erich deposited the box on the sofa and pecked Prudie’s cheek. “I’d better take our luggage over to the boardinghouse.”
“Oh no.” Carianne hurried to her desk and swiped the two keys she’d left there. “I’ve reserved two rooms at our new culture center. The downstairs isn’t finished yet, but the bedrooms are freshly painted and refurbished. The keys fit the first two rooms at the top of the stairs.” She sent a glance over her shoulder to her friends. “Adela and Ramee will have to share a room, I’m afraid. Every room in town is taken.”
“That’ll be fun,” Ramee said. “It’s the building at the end of the street, right? Used to be a s
aloon.” Ramee knew all about the saloon, since she’d trained two of its former prostitutes as seamstresses.
“I’ll find it.” Erich pocketed the keys and headed for the door. “Be back in about an hour, ladies.”
“Let’s go see the dress.” Carianne hefted the corrugated box, finding it heavier than she’d expected. She led the way to her bedroom. “Is the headdress in here, too?”
“Oh, no,” Ramee answered. “It’s in my luggage. It’s going to be a surprise.”
Carianne placed the box on the middle of the bed and swung around. What was Ramee up to? “Why do you want to surprise the bride? You know how I feel about veils. If the lace is too thick—”
“No.” Ramee shook her head, setting her blonde curls to bouncing.
“Where are you going on your honeymoon, Carianne?” Adela sat at the end of the bed, trying to loosen the twine fastened to the box.
“There won’t be a trip until late fall. I have commitments to the culture center and Rhyan has to campaign for a man who’s running for the Senate.” She flopped on the bed. Truth be told, she didn’t want to go on a trip. No place could compete with Sollano to begin her marriage.
“You said you’d be visiting us.” Prudie came in with a kitchen knife to cut the twine.
“We are. We’ll travel west by train, stopping at your place along the way. Your baby will be here by then. We’ll continue on to California, and let Ramee put us up for a few days before going on to spend Christmas with Rhyan’s family in San Francisco. After that, we’ll travel down the coast and take a ship all the way to New Orleans, then get on a riverboat to St. Louis.”
“What about us?” Adela opened the box and began tearing into the tissue paper.
“We’ll detour to Crabapple, Kansas, where we’ll visit your farm. I can’t wait to see your children.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Prudie said. “By the time you get back, you may have a child of your own.”
Everyone laughed but Ramee. Carianne caught the glint of a tear hovering in her friend’s lashes. She bounded from the bed and wrapped an arm around Ramee. “What’s wrong?”
Ramee’s glance traveled from her to the other two. “I didn’t mean to tell anyone. This is your time, Carianne. Your time to be happy.” She drew in a deep breath. “I lost a baby this past spring.” She pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes to clear them. “I wasn’t far along and fell off my horse. That’s what made it so bad. I blamed myself for awhile.”
Carianne felt her own eyes watering. She started to hug, but Ramee raised her hand. “Now, Carianne, don’t you cry.” Even as she protested, she hugged back, and Adela’s and Prudie’s arms circled them both.
Ramee broke from the embrace “I’m all right now, really. Just remember, tribulations still come after marriage. The good thing is you have someone to share them.” She smiled. “Enough of me. It’s your wedding. Let’s get that dress on you. There’s not much time for fittings.”
Carianne watch them lift the frothy confection of shimmering white satin and lace. She knew Ramee spoke the truth. She and Rhyan would share the joy of now, and please God, make the tribulations few.
***
It took three fittings, and all the myriad preparations seemed never to get done in the crunched timeframe, but, as with most things that had to be done, it was. Even so, a strange dichotomy of peace and panic enveloped Carianne as she slipped into her gown on her wedding day. In her bedroom, a gaggle of women gathered around. Pushing. Poking. Primping.
The cheval glass gave her glimpses of a girl with wide sparkling eyes filled with hope and awe. She didn’t take this blessing lightly. How many women were honored to marry the love of her life?
The shimmering gown of purest white silk, embroidered with thousands of seed pearls and diamante and adorned with the finest imported lace, made her so giddy she feared she’d faint dead away. Or maybe that was the corset cinching her waist.
“You’ll have to sit, Carianne, so I can get the top buttons.” Myra pushed her onto a stool. The endless row of buttons at the back gave her a chance to catch her breath, while Myra fumbled along her shoulder blades to fasten each tiny pearl. This type dress required the experience of a skilled ladies maid. Should she hire one? No, the few times she’d need assistance, Maria would suffice. And she’d have a husband who’d be glad to help. Heat flushed her cheeks. Beginning tonight.
Not being used to wearing a corset, she found it hard to draw in enough breath, but she could tolerate it for one day. At least the corset kept that flock of butterflies hammering her ribs at bay.
Was Rhyan as nervous as she? Not likely. He took pomp and circumstance in stride—it was just a part of his world. Now it would be a part of her world. Could she measure up as the wife of an important man? Of course she could. Otherwise God wouldn’t have put her in this position.
“I have the headdress.” Ramee came into the cramped room, a glimmering tiara with a streaming veil of diamante-shot net in back.
Ramee set it on her head as Myra finished the last button. The mirror called to Carianne before the headdress was firmly attached. No, it wasn’t a tiara. It was a crown. “Did you swipe this from an Austrian princess?”
Giggles pealed. “Your fiancé did tell us we had an unlimited budget, and you didn’t offer any objections.” Ramee said.
“That’s because I didn’t realize his budget will be my budget too.” She well remembered taking care of the books at Sollano.
Myra grinned and reached up to help Ramee secure the crown on Carianne’s head. “Spoken like a thrifty housewife already.”
“Don’t fret, Miss Stewardship. It’s only a replica, but those are real diamonds and pearls,” Ramee said. “That’s why I couldn’t bring it earlier. It had to be kept under lock and key.” She slipped another pin in place. “It’s going back next week, and there’s no cost at all. It was donated for the publicity.”
“What publicity?”
Ramee and Myra exchanged a glance. “There are a lot of cameras set up along the way to the church and at Sollano too, I expect,” Myra said.
“Carianne, you do remember who your fiancé is,” Ramee added. “He sells newspapers. Politicians and society people flock around him.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” The culture center would need publicity too. She pressed her stomach to quell the butterflies. “All will be well.”
Even as she said that, distant bells began ringing in a melodious tune. “What is that?”
“Wedding bells,” Myra told her.
“Our church doesn’t have bells.”
Myra stepped back to survey her work. “It does now, and since they’ve begun. You have fifteen minutes to get there.”
Rachel poked her head in the door. “Ladies, it’s time to go.” Dressed in a shimmering lilac gown, she was the matron of honor.
“They won’t start without her, will they?” Myra fussed with Carianne’s hair.
“Besides, Rhyan has never known me to be punctual in my life.”
Myra grinned. “You’ve got to stoop down, dear, so I can fix this last pin. How high are the heels on your slippers?”
“Not very. They’re so pretty. It’s a shame no one can see them.” She stuck out one embroidered satin slipper from under the gown.
“Carianne, you haven’t eaten a bite.” Agnes took the tray of sandwiches she’d brought in two hours earlier. She and Martha were in charge of cooking, and Carianne appreciated the gesture, but eating anything was out of the question. Those butterflies had grown to hummingbirds. “I’ll wait until the reception, but thank you, Agnes. It was sweet of you to feed my attendants.”
“There, that’s perfect.” Myra finally stepped back.
Carianne grabbed one last glance of herself in the mirror. The crown suited the dress, but was that image really her? She tilted her head as she imagined a princess would, and the jewels sparkled.
Rhyan would be pleased, and that was all that mattered.
Ramee shoved her
way in to give Carianne a final hug. “You are so beautiful, and I wish you every happiness, dear. You deserve it more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“It’s all due to you. Thank you for the dress and everything. How could I not look beautiful in such finery?”
“It’s not the dress. It’s your beautiful spirit shining through.”
Carianne looked into her oldest friend’s watery, blue eyes, and pointed a finger. “Don’t you cry.” No one could get her blubbering faster than Ramee.
Ramee patted her cheek. “I won’t. I’ll save that for the ceremony. Do you have a handkerchief?”
Of course not. Did she ever have a handkerchief when she needed one? She’d surely need one today, but slipping it inside her see-through lace sleeves wasn’t an option.
Ramee tucked the handkerchief into Carianne’s waistband. I’d better run. Prudie and Adela are saving me a seat.”
Dorcas tore off her apron. “We’d better run too.” She and Myra flew after Ramee and got stuck in the doorway. They shoved for a couple of seconds before becoming dislodged. The comical sight sent Carianne into the giggles, and once she started laughing, she couldn’t stop.
“Carianne, what’s wrong with you?” Dorcas came back into the room.
“I gave her a little wine for her nerves,” Agnes said in the tone of one confessing a sin.
“How much wine did you drink?” Rachel cast her a worried glance.
“I gave her a nip myself,” Myra added.
“Good heavens, we have a tipsy bride,” Dorcas moaned.
The three glasses of wine sat at various locations around the room. Carianne doubled over with laughter. When she was able to catch her breath, she sputtered, “I’m…I’m…not…tipsy.” She accented each word with a laugh, but the butterflies had settled down. Laughter calmed her nerves better than wine could have. “I didn’t touch it. Do you think I’d go near that red stuff while wearing this dress?”
Colt appeared in the open doorway. “What’s going on in here? We’re going to be late.”
The sight of him sobered her like a dash of ice water. Laughter died in her throat. What was Colt doing here? He should at the church, standing beside Rhyan. Was something wrong?
Surrendered (Intrique Under Western Skies Book 2) Page 25