The Wedding Shop (32 page)

Most men wait for Christmas to propose. But not Birch.

“We've got customers early this morning,” Mama said, reaching for the cups and saucers.

“I heard.” Cora broke the string on the pastry box. “Can you handle the day without me?”

“No, I cannot. Odelia's not in and you two are the only ones who know how to really dress the brides. You're simply marvelous about it. I am the hostess.” Mama leaned back to see Cora's face. “What's the matter with you?”

“I just don't feel good.”

“Well, push through. Is it your monthly? You can lie down when they're gone.” She set out the teacups. “I have to go upstairs to boil the water for the tea.” Mama grabbed Cora by the shoulders. “Go see to your customers. Chin up. Smile. That's my girl. A little more sincere.”

“Mama, I can't . . . I just can't.”

“Sure you can. We're Scott women. Cut from the Scotland high country. Now, get out there.”

Mama had been through her heartbreak and was out on the other side. Surely Cora could ride the rapids of her own heartache with as much courage and dignity.

Yet she felt so wounded and weak, as if she couldn't hold up her head or draw a deep breath.

“Go on now. They're waiting,” Mama said.

Around the wall of the small salon Cora braced to see a smiling and glowing Janice, though her knees wobbled with each step. Anxiety burned in her belly.

“Good morning, ladies. Welcome to The Wedding Shop.”

An older woman with a rich-looking coat stood. “We are thrilled to be here. We've heard so many good things from the Dunlaps. I'm Pasty Connery, and this is my daughter, the newly engaged Miranda, and her sisters . . .”

Cora scanned the faces on the sofa as the woman made introductions. It was the beautiful Connery women. Not Janice Pettrey at all. She wobbled with relief.

“The Dunlaps, of course, wonderful family. How is Ruth?”

“Expecting her first child.” The younger women smiled with a blush on their cheeks.

“Well, Miranda.” Cora turned to the bride. “Congratulations.” The lovely brunette with long waves about her shoulders held up her left hand where a diamond brought a new light into the room.

“Isn't that stunning?”

“Very.” Cora had seen only a few diamond engagement rings since they were not popular with folks. Or in these hard times,
possible
.

“It belonged to his grandmother. Wylie had it put in a new setting for me.” The bride clutched her hand to her chest. “I'm never taking it off.”

“As you never should. Shall we look at dresses?” Cora escorted Miranda and her mother through the shop, showing them all their options, then escorting them upstairs to explain Odelia's services.

But Miranda was a decisive woman and knew what she wanted. She selected a premade gown with lace sleeves and bodice, which buttoned up the front to a neat square collar. The skirt was full and long, made of satin and tulle.

“I want to be the most beautiful woman in the room,” Miranda said to Cora as she stepped behind the divider to change.

“No doubt you will be.”

Miranda giggled. “I'm so nervous already. Were you nervous when you got married?”

Cora handed her the gown around the edge. “I-I've never been married.”

The girl's wide brown eyes appeared over the top of the divider. “Oh, really. I just assumed.”

“Quite all right. Let me know when you need help. You can fasten this gown in the front, but the sleeves are a bit tricky. I'm stepping in the storeroom to find a veil.”

“I want a long one. My cousin tried a shorter one and I just didn't care for it. Seemed like something was missing. Oh, please, can you help me with the sleeves?”

Cora backed up to step behind the divider, helping the slender
young woman into the gown that would take her on the adventure of a lifetime. “How old are you, Miranda?”

“Twenty. I met Wylie at my cousin's debutante ball. He was the brother of her escort.” She looked up at Cora. “I fell for him the moment I saw him.”

“Then you are blessed.” She settled the shoulders in place and stepped back. “There. You can finish up. I'll be right back.”

“I-is there a reason you never married?” Miranda's question chased Cora to the edge of the stairs.

She wavered, pressed back a bullet of emotion. “Just hasn't happened for me.”

“I hope it does soon. Love is so thrilling.”

Yes, wasn't it, though? It was also terribly painful. At the bottom of the stairs, Cora addressed the waiting women, who sat on the edge of the sofa and chairs, sipping the tea and nibbling pastries Mama had served.

“She's picked a beautiful gown. She'll be down in a moment.” Behind the display case, Cora selected the longest veil she had in stock. Smoothing it over her arm, she showed the others, who ooh'd their approval, then started back up the steps.

The shop's back door slammed, rattling the entire place. Mama stood, glancing around. “What in the world?”

“Cora Scott! Where are you?” A booming voice followed by heavy footsteps bounced against the hardwood, reverberating against the wall and in Cora's chest. “I need to talk to you—now.”

Birch appeared around the wall of the small salon, gazing up to the mezzanine, his blue eyes wild and snapping, his dark hair combed but refusing to stay in place.

“Birch, I have customers.” Cora came down a few steps. “Keep your voice down. Mrs. Connery, I do apologize. I don't know what this is about. Mama?” She motioned for her to come up and take the veil, give it to Miranda.

“Don't anyone move. Esmé, stop right there.” Birch held up
his hands. “I've got something to say and I'm going to say it right now.”

“There's no need for rudeness, young man.” Mrs. Connery, God bless her.

“Cora, I'd moved on with my life.” He started up the steps slowly, his cheeks flushed a deep red. “I waited and waited for you. Fourteen years all told. And finally, I just gave up.”

“Is this necessary? I know all of this. Have you come to rub my face in it before these fine customers?”

Miranda stood at the top of the stairs, her soft features contorted with confusion. “What's going on?”

“Begging your pardon, young lady, but I got a piece to say and I'm saying it. Cora, I found me a gal. A good one. She was pretty, fun, and she loved me.” Birch patted his chest. “She loved
me
. Wanted to marry me.”

“Then marry her. Go on with your plans. I'm not stopping you.”

Birch took another step up, moving close to Cora. “Yes, yes you are. Because you finally said yes. Finally, after months and months,
years
, of waiting, listening to all your excuses, you waltz onto my farm one fine afternoon and announce pretty as you please that
you are ready
. ‘I'll marry you, Birch.' On Thanksgiving, to boot.”

“This is ridiculous.” Cora turned back for the mezzanine. “Go on home, Birch. I've got work to do.”

But Birch ran interference, stopping her on the staircase. “I made my peace with it. You and I were going different ways. But dang it if I couldn't get you out of my head. I tried. Spent more time with Janice than ever. Got out Mama's ring. Tried to propose to her three times. Gall darn if I could do it. Why? Because I'm in love with you, Cora Scott. I'm so lost in love I can't even find my way out.”

The women serenaded his confession with a collective gasp.

“Birch . . . I don't . . . So what are you saying?”

“I'm saying . . .” He dropped to one knee, right there on the stairs, and pulled a box from his jacket pocket. “Cora Scott, will you marry me? Gal, don't you even say no, 'cause my heart will explode in my chest. I'll die right here. I'm not wasting another moment without you in my life, as my wife.” He popped open the ring box revealing a glistening sapphire stone in a gold setting. “Please, marry me.”

Cora dropped the veil so it floated down the stairs like a carefree cloud and sank to the stairs, her heart drumming in her ears, her gaze boring into his. “Really? Oh really? I love you, Birch Good. Yes, yes! I'll marry you, of course.” Her hand trembled as he slid the ring on her finger. Above and below her, the women approved with whispered gasps and a soft, “How beautiful.”

She fell against him, burying her face against his neck, watering his warm skin with tears of joy. Finally.

Birch stood, drawing Cora to her feet, snatching her up in a grand hug to the raucous cheers of the women, holding her so tight she couldn't draw a long breath. When he touched his lips to hers, her entire body was filled with air and light and love.

When Birch broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Is this real?”

“Yes, very, very real.” Hands against his neck, she kissed him, giving him her all—her heart, her word, her pledge.

“Y'all ladies carry on,” Birch said, starting down the steps. “I've got work to do myself. But what do you know? I'm getting
married
.”

Cora ran down the steps to kiss him one last time, his lips warm and wanting, her heart pressed against his. This was the love she'd been waiting for all her life. Right here in her arms.

H
ALEY

March 2

L
ong day. Haley pulled up to her parents' home, parking Dad's truck under the oak tree, crawling from behind the wheel like an old lady.

Man, construction was backbreaking work. Once she tacked the permits in the front window with pride, she joined Cole's crew, showing up to work before they did and being the last one to leave.

While the permits came through, the change in her deadline did not. The shop needed to pass inspection by May 1.

Through the back door, she kicked off her work boots in the mudroom, dropping her dusty coat on a hook.

The house was quiet and warm, a soft glow coming from the den.

“I'm home.” Haley reached into the kitchen cabinet for a bowl. Then in the pantry for a box of cereal.

Mom didn't allow cereal in the house when Haley was a kid, but she managed to squeak it past her as an adult.

“Haley?” Mom appeared around the kitchen doorway, a glass of wine and her readers in hand. “How was your day?”

“Busy.” She retrieved the milk from the fridge, but her arms were so tired she could barely hold up the carton.

“Will you meet your deadline?”

“Busting our backs to try. I think we will. The electric and
plumbing are done. Cole thinks the third-floor apartment will be finished by Monday.” Haley glanced back at Mom. “I'll move in when it's ready.”

Mom came to the island counter as Haley took a seat and dove into her cereal. “We've enjoyed having you around.”

Haley peeked at her mother. Since their heart-to-heart, the air between them had changed. Words of affection flowed a little easier. “Thanks for letting me crash.”

A slight smile tipped Mom's lips. “I never realized how driven you were before.”

“Because I got lost in the shuffle.”

Mom frowned. “Well, now you're standing out.”

Haley scooped a large spoonful of cereal and checked her phone. She was waiting to hear from a designer. Charlotte put her in touch with a European designer, Melinda House, who'd opened up a shop in New York. They'd promised to send whatever they had in stock. But that was two weeks ago and so far, nothing. Haley understood these things took time, but time was closing in on her.

“I have something for you.” Mom ducked out of the room.

Haley slipped from her chair. What this late-night dinner needed was toast. She checked the pantry. No bread. Darn anti-wheat people.

Mom reappeared with a white envelope and a key. “Here.”

Haley turned as Mom set the envelope and key on the island counter. “What's this?”

“Well, in the envelope is money. I-I want to help with the shop.” She sighed, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. “There's more to the story, but for now just take the money. And the key.”

“Mom, are you sure?” Haley drew her into a tight hug, love rising in her heart for her secretly tenderhearted mother. “Thank you. But what's the key for?”

“It goes to the locked storage room in the shop.”

Haley regarded her for a moment. “W-where did you get it?”

“Well, um, Cora gave it to me.”

“Cora? Miss Cora. The wedding shop owner. You knew her?”

“I did, but not well.”

“What? W-why did she give you the key?”

“Because”—Mom averted her gaze, her lower lip quivering—“Cora was my sister.”

C
ORA

January 1935

She stood along the bank of the Cumberland just down the way from the old homestead. From where she grew up playing with EJ, from where she heard the news Daddy lost the bank, from where Birch proposed the first time, telling her he loved her.

A thick gray fog hung over the winter day as Cora faced the waters, remembering how she stared along the bend in the river, aching for a sign of Rufus St. Claire.

Today was her second anniversary with Birch. She never knew she could love a man so much. Or be so loved. And how closely she had almost missed this life she now built with her husband.

They were hoping for children soon.

Last year she'd burned Rufus's letters. Not that Birch ever mentioned the man, but when she told him she'd dumped them in the trash drum and set them aflame, the look on his face was worth a thousand words. He loved her ardently that night.

But still, every now and then, Rufus walked across her heart, stirring old whispers and old longings. Lately, more than before, and it brought her to her knees.

Remove every trace of him, Lord.

Then, during Wednesday-night services, the pendant came to
mind. She'd taken it off after Birch proposed, but kept it in a box in the back of her sock drawer. This morning she retrieved it and drove down to the river.

Cora peered down at her hand, the gold locket Rufus had given her laying against her leather glove. The wind cut along the bank, slapping the hem of her dress about her legs.

She'd hung on to this as what? A memento? A treasure? When all it stood for was lies and pain.

“Good-bye forever, Rufus. You can't interrupt my life ever again.”

Flinging the jeweled piece toward the river, she watched it soar and then float down, twisting and turning in the wind, tapping the water, then quickly disappearing beneath the river's swift current.