his eyes focused on his bride. Rachel, Mr. Pendleton, and Beth came for ward. Halfway in their walk down the aisle, Beau keeled over and took out both of the large flower urns as he fell flat on his face. The accompanist crashed her fingers against the keys and stopped playing.
The first urn's contents spilled across Mason's al ready soaked britches and boots and splashed onto' Reverend Moseley and the lectern. The minister stepped back; his eyes widened in horror as he watched the second container reach its destination.
Mrs. Pendleton shrieked as water and flowers showered her. "My dress! My gorgeous Imperial Chrysanthemum silk brocade is ruined. Ruined." She held out her skirts and shook them, as she sobbed. Flowers flew off the skirt or tangled in the lace. Water soaked the front of her dress.
Mr. Pendleton deserted Beth halfway up the aisle and pushed by Rachel to rush toward his wife. "Louise, are you all right?"
Mrs. Pendleton sobbed. "First my own daughter turns against me, and now my special new dress is ru uuuuined." She accepted the handkerchief her husband offered. 'This is the worst day of my life. This is the worst wedding in history."
Mr. Pendleton glared at Mason, who ignored him and bent to retrieve one of the urns. He dumped what remained of the water onto his cousin's head. Beau didn't move. Mason placed the empty urn back where it had set earlier.
When Mason saw Beth shaking with her hand over her mouth, at first he thought she was crying, and he started to go to her. Rachel, who had missed the water by only a few steps, hid behind her hand as well. Then he realized that Beth's anxiety had apparently shat tered her demeanor, and she pressed her hand to her mouth in what looked like an attempt to stifle laugh ter. Both women shook with suppressed mirth. He had to admit it was pretty funny that Mrs. Pendleton had received her comeuppance, but he kept a straight face.
Rowdy appeared and took Beau's feet while Mason grabbed his cousin under the arms. They dragged him to the side. Apparently out cold, Beau never so much as moaned.
Rowdy grinned as if he'd heard a funny joke and wanted to bust out laughing. "Reckon the jinx is on your cousin."
Mason agreed and smiled. "Thanks for your help."
Rowdy went back to his seat. Mason felt in Beau's pocket for the ring and nodded to his father.
"Papa, I think you'll have to fill in for Beau. He's out for awhile."
Mr. Whittaker came forward and took the ring. Mr. Pendleton seemed to suddenly remember he'd left his daughter midway up the aisle and went back for her. The accompanist resumed playing, and Beth and her father stopped in front of the minister.
"We are gathered here today to ..."
Beth tried to follow his words, but too much had happened. The red spots on her itched, and those white spots danced in front of her eyes again.
"Who gives this woman?"
Mr. Pendleton glared at Mason. "Her mother and I do." He handed her to Mason and stepped back.
Beth felt the train tear when she turned toward Mason. She looked back, and her father's large, muddy footprint was smack in the middle of her train. She felt a draft at the waist where the train had come loose. Beth handed her bouquet to Mason and reached behind her to poke at the seams.
Rachel peered around to look at the train. "It's torn, but nothing shows through."
Her mother broke into wails. "Mr. Henri's beauti ful dress. I hate this wedding!"
Beth heard her mother's sobs, but she didn't care about anything but marrying Mason—and maybe get ting into that warm bath Mrs. Whittaker mentioned. She took back her bouquet and nodded at the minis ter. Reverend Moseley launched into the rest of the ceremony.
Once again Beth tried to pay attention, but she thought she might pass out. The heat from the candles seared her. The corset stays cut off her air in the sultry humidity. Her hives itched fiercely, and her shattered nerves threatened to overwhelm her. She clung to Mason's arm. He put his hand over hers
The first urn's contents spilled across Mason's al ready soaked britches and boots and splashed onto' Reverend Moseley and the lectern. The minister stepped back; his eyes widened in horror as he watched the second container reach its destination.
Mrs. Pendleton shrieked as water and flowers showered her. "My dress! My gorgeous Imperial Chrysanthemum silk brocade is ruined. Ruined." She held out her skirts and shook them, as she sobbed. Flowers flew off the skirt or tangled in the lace. Water soaked the front of her dress.
Mr. Pendleton deserted Beth halfway up the aisle and pushed by Rachel to rush toward his wife. "Louise, are you all right?"
Mrs. Pendleton sobbed. "First my own daughter turns against me, and now my special new dress is ru uuuuined." She accepted the handkerchief her husband offered. 'This is the worst day of my life. This is the worst wedding in history."
Mr. Pendleton glared at Mason, who ignored him and bent to retrieve one of the urns. He dumped what remained of the water onto his cousin's head. Beau didn't move. Mason placed the empty urn back where it had set earlier.
When Mason saw Beth shaking with her hand over her mouth, at first he thought she was crying, and he started to go to her. Rachel, who had missed the water by only a few steps, hid behind her hand as well. Then he realized that Beth's anxiety had apparently shat tered her demeanor, and she pressed her hand to her mouth in what looked like an attempt to stifle laugh ter. Both women shook with suppressed mirth. He had to admit it was pretty funny that Mrs. Pendleton had received her comeuppance, but he kept a straight face.
Rowdy appeared and took Beau's feet while Mason grabbed his cousin under the arms. They dragged him to the side. Apparently out cold, Beau never so much as moaned.
Rowdy grinned as if he'd heard a funny joke and wanted to bust out laughing. "Reckon the jinx is on your cousin."
Mason agreed and smiled. "Thanks for your help."
Rowdy went back to his seat. Mason felt in Beau's pocket for the ring and nodded to his father.
"Papa, I think you'll have to fill in for Beau. He's out for awhile."
Mr. Whittaker came forward and took the ring. Mr. Pendleton seemed to suddenly remember he'd left his daughter midway up the aisle and went back for her. The accompanist resumed playing, and Beth and her father stopped in front of the minister.
"We are gathered here today to ..."
Beth tried to follow his words, but too much had happened. The red spots on her itched, and those white spots danced in front of her eyes again.
"Who gives this woman?"
Mr. Pendleton glared at Mason. "Her mother and I do." He handed her to Mason and stepped back.
Beth felt the train tear when she turned toward Mason. She looked back, and her father's large, muddy footprint was smack in the middle of her train. She felt a draft at the waist where the train had come loose. Beth handed her bouquet to Mason and reached behind her to poke at the seams.
Rachel peered around to look at the train. "It's torn, but nothing shows through."
Her mother broke into wails. "Mr. Henri's beauti ful dress. I hate this wedding!"
Beth heard her mother's sobs, but she didn't care about anything but marrying Mason—and maybe get ting into that warm bath Mrs. Whittaker mentioned. She took back her bouquet and nodded at the minis ter. Reverend Moseley launched into the rest of the ceremony.
Once again Beth tried to pay attention, but she thought she might pass out. The heat from the candles seared her. The corset stays cut off her air in the sultry humidity. Her hives itched fiercely, and her shattered nerves threatened to overwhelm her. She clung to Mason's arm. He put his hand over hers
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