Happy Is The Bride (12 page)

Rachel drained her dipper and handed it back to Mr. Pendleton. "Thank you, Uncle Howard." She licked her lips and appeared puzzled. 'Tasted odd,
didn't it?"

He closed the door and went into the chapel. Beth
leaned back and closed her eyes. "Yes, it did."

"I—I don't know. How could we tell?"

Rachel shrugged. “I don't know. Probably doesn't
matter. No more than we had, it won't, make us tipsy."

Time dragged while they waited in the sultry coach.

Beth scratched at her neck. Her throat itched. Then the itch
ing spread.

She looked down at the bare skin above her low
neckline. Red welts had sprung up. On the bare part
of her arms above her long gloves, more angry hives
showed.

"No, this can't happen."

Rachel's eyes widened. "How can you be allergic
to gin?"

Rachel bit her lip and nodded. "Sorry, Beth."

Rachel shook her head.

Beth wanted to scream, but she took a deep breath.
“Then what bets?"

"Everyone in town's betting whether or not Mason
will show up and, if he shows, whether or not he'll go
through with the wedding. I figured you knew."

"Well, that takes the cake." Beth crossed her arms.
"I hope they all bet that he wouldn't show so they'll all
lose their money."

"So do I. Ben's holding most of the cash."

"Rachel! You can't mean my own cousin's husband
has encouraged bets against me?"

"Don't get mad at us. We figured Mason's a sure
thing, and some bet a considerable amount. You
know how gossipy folks are, and we thought it would
serve them right to lose."

"You never let on it bothered you."

"Of course it bothers me! How would you feel if
half the county talked about you? If they gossiped
night and day about silly things?"

"Oh, that." Beth clasped her hands to keep from scratching. "Let me guess. Mrs. Weldon and Mrs.
Humphreys spread that tale."

Rachel giggled, as if remembering the incident in
town today. "Right you are, the sour-faced old bid
dies."

"I wanted to be sure you understood, so you'd be
prepared in case she says something to you at the re
ception."

Those women and others like them made Beth
angry. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself,
but her darned corset wouldn't let her. "Does no one read the newspaper? Can't they discuss the weather,
what about Governor Ireland's or President Cleve
land's policies or other current events, anything
besides me?"

Mr. Pendleton chose that moment to open the
door and climb in. Beth had never seen him in such
disarray. In spite of his oiled slicker, his jacket appeared
soaked and his hair plastered to him. Mud and straw
coated his shoes.

"Driver's pulling the coach back to the steps so we
can get you and Rachel inside. Everyone's here but
the groom. His parents said he's picked up a horse
and buggy in Medina to give you for a wedding gift
and is on his way. He'd damned well better show."

Pleasure shot through Beth, and she clasped her
gloved hands. "He ordered me a buggy? Isn't that
sweet of him?"

Her father glared. "Not unless he shows up."

He closed the door, and Beth waited, willing herself
not to scratch. She looked down at her chest, but the
welts looked even worse since a few more had popped
out. The stifling heat took her breath away, and she
feared she'd pass out. Some bride she made, but she
pulled her duster around her and prepared for her
dash to the chapel.

Her father opened the door and held the umbrella
for her. "Lucky for us Whittaker put down the straw. Otherwise the buggies would have stuck."

"He's very thoughtful. Daddy, he really is a won
derful man. I hope you'll realize that soon." Beth
rolled her train up until she had it and her veil cov
ered by her wrap and held her skirt up so far her
ankles showed. She hoped she didn't drop her bouquet. Her father gripped her arm and guided her up
the steps and into the back of the church.

Her mother waited there with Beulah, Rachel, and Rachel's husband and oldest son. Rain and wind had ruined Mrs. Pendleton's elaborate coiffure, and Beu
lah repeatedly tucked Mrs. Pendleton's curls back
into place. Ben wore his best black trousers and a coat
that almost matched. Ben, Jr., wore his usual church
clothes of shirt and dark britches.

Beth wanted to melt into the floor when chuckles rippled across the chapel. Instead, she held her head
high.

Rachel marched forward and pinched her son's
arm.

"Ow-w-w-w, Mama. I didn't do nothin'." He held his
arm as if it were broken.

"You be quiet, Jamie Bigelow, or I'll tan your hide
when we get home." Rachel whirled around and
walked to the back where her husband waited.

Mrs. Weldon and Mrs. Humphreys pivoted in their
seats to smirk at her. Mrs. Weldon had wet leaves stuck
to her bonnet. Mrs. Humphreys' hair straggled in
limp, soggy curls beneath her hat. Beth looked
through them with her coldest glare. Both women
quickly faced the front of the chapel.

Beth unfolded her veil and plumped the circle of
silk orange blossoms to which the veil attached and
set it firmly onto her head. Beulah came forward and
adjusted the tulle so that it flowed gracefully down
from the crown.

Mrs. Pendleton's eyes widened in alarm. "Bethany,
what on earth is wrong with your skin? You look awful.
For goodness sakes, do something to repair yourself."

"What can I do, Mother? I have hives. Rachel and I
think the water is spiked with gin. You know how allergic I am to it."

Mrs. Whittaker glared at Beau. "You didn't?"

Beau blushed and stepped back. 'Thought it might
relax folks. Didn't know Beth would break out in red dots."

She leaned close to his ear and hissed so loud Beth
heard. Probably everyone in church heard. "I'll show
you relaxed when we get home, young man. You're
lucky I didn't find out about this earlier or I'd of
poleaxes you myself."