Happy Is The Bride (9 page)

"She's just nervous, you know." Beth patted her
cousin's arm.

"Your mother?" Rachel seemed surprised that Mrs.
Pendleton might be uneasy about anything.

"Yes. She's afraid Mason will leave me at the altar
and she'll be embarrassed again."

Rachel sniffled. "But what about you? She never
thinks about your feelings and you'd be hurt."

Beth handed her cousin a handkerchief. "Unfortu
nately, Mother views all of life as to how it affects her
specifically." In an effort to divert Rachel's attention
from Mrs. Pendleton's harsh words, Beth asked about
the Bigelow children.

For the rest of the walk into town, Rachel related
anecdotes about her children. Each pointed out a
major flaw in the children's characters or Rachel's
parenting, but Rachel saw all the incidents as funny.
Beth tried to smile pleasantly and nod as if she, too,
thought the Bigelow brats were enchanting.

In the Mercantile, Beth searched the piece goods
while Rachel sorted through the ready-made dresses.
Beth had bent to sort through the bolts on the bot
tom shelf when she overheard the loud whispers of
two women on the next aisle.

Beth froze, and a second voice carried to her. "No,
you don't mean this is worse than the man who ran
off with another man?"

No matter how she tried to be a good person, ru
mors like this hurt Beth. How could she fight them?
She took food and clothes to the sick, helped the
church minister to the poor, attended civic functions,
did everything in her power to live a good life serving
her community. Nothing stopped the tittle-tattle of
malicious people. Absolutely nothing.

Gossip one sounded smug. "Now there's this hurry-
up wedding, not even three weeks since they
announced the engagement. You know what that
means, of course."

The second voice, sounding shocked but amused,
replied, "No, you don't mean she's in a family way?"

Beth gasped. Did it never end?

Gossip one said, "What else could it be?"

Rachel stormed over. "It could mean that they suddenly realized they belong together and don't have to
prolong their engagement to satisfy a bunch of gos
siping old biddies. That's what, so there."

Beth stood, grateful her cousin had stood up for
her. She might have known—the two biggest scandal
mongers in the state. Beth smiled sweetly. "Good
morning, Mrs. Weldon, Mrs. Humphreys." She turned
to her cousin. "Did you find a dress you liked?"

Rachel shook her head. "Believe me, Mrs. Wel
don, I haven't forgotten a thing."

Beth had moved bolt after bolt of fabric, so she
dusted off her hands. "Excuse us, there don't seem to be any goods here we want."

Rachel and Beth left the Mercantile, and both burst
into giggles.

Beth sighed. "We didn't solve your dress problem."

They crossed the street and turned toward Beth's
home.

Mrs. Pendleton waited in the drawing room.
"Well?"

Rachel shook her head. "Nothing, Aunt Louise."

"Widow Braswell, but she only wears black." Rachel
shrugged. "The only other person I can think of is
that harlot, Sally, at the saloon."

Mrs. Pendleton shuddered. "Bethany, you can't be
serious. A harlot's dress in your wedding? What would
people say?"

Rachel shook her head. "I couldn't. Ben wouldn't
like me dressing in Sally's clothes."

Beth recalled hearing that before Ben courted
Rachel, he'd been very well acquainted with Sally.
With six kids and an apple farm, Beth doubted he had the time, energy, or inclination to visit Sally now.

Beth grabbed the ruined dress. "Perhaps there's
some other way, but we're running out of time. Come
up to my room, Rachel. We'll see if there's a dress with
fabric we might use to redo the bodice."

"You've been sewing—I see your things are out."

Beth sighed and told Rachel about her wedding
dress and the hasty repairs while each leafed through
one of the magazines.

"A mouse in your home? I wouldn't think Aunt
Louise would allow it."

Beth smiled. "Likely she'll be making war on the ro
dent world. Now that I know it's repaired, it seems
humorous. It'll be something to tell my children and
grandchildren, won't it?"

"You've always been a wonderful seamstress. My
stitches are never neat." Rachel turned a page.

"Oh, see this one?" Beth pointed to an illustration
of a riding habit. "It says it's made in red habit cloth, so that's what I used in the one I made for the ranch.
Mason's teaching me to ride."

"I can't picture you on a ranch. Are you sure you
can adjust?"

Beth nodded at the trunks. "Oh, yes. I'm looking
forward to it. I have lots of linens for the house, of
course, as well as pictures and prints and things I've
collected all these years. Mason's hired Delia Boone
to help me with the house, but I wouldn't mind doing
everything myself."

Rachel gave Beth a measuring look. "You'll need
different clothes for the ranch."

Rachel put down her magazine. "What else?"

Beth laid the blue gown on the open lid and held
up several others for Rachel's inspection. "I don't
have a lot, but I'll need several changes plus plain pet
ticoats and bloomers. See this, it's modeled after one
that I saw in Harper's
from Princess Beatrice's
trousseau."

She laid them back in the trunk and closed the lid.
"We'd better get busy on your dress. I think I remem
ber where I saw that drawing." Beth hurried to the
bed and picked up a magazine. "See, this one would
work."

Rachel clapped her hands. "Oh, it's wonderful. Can
you really do that in so little time?"

"I hope so, but I'll need your help with this bot
tom ruffle."

He got under cover of the buggy works' wide por
tico. "I'll send someone for this rig after the water
goes down."

Watson appeared with a large chamois. "I'll dry it
down for you."

Mason unhitched the mare and threw his saddle
and bridle on her. When he'd cinched her down tight, he tied his satchel on and mounted. He'd
wasted precious time walking the injured horse into
town earlier and on the aborted buggy trip. From hav
ing plenty of leeway, he'd wound up not being sure he
could make it on time for the wedding.

Damned if he'd leave Beth standing alone at the
altar. He took off through the downpour at a gal
lop.

****

Beth's fingers were sore from hasty stitches. She'd
cut a new bodice from the China crepe and left the
satin sleeves. "How are you doing with the ruffles?"

Rachel sat in a chair by the window and sniffled. "I
can't get it right. You've ruined your dress for noth
ing."

"Keep trying. The bodice is almost finished." Beth
fashioned a rose from the ruined fabric and tacked it
to the vee of the new neckline. She hoped Rachel
avoided coughing or laughing in this dress until after
the wedding. Just in case, she'd left plenty of room.
Rachel could probably wear it without a corset if she
chose.