His anxiety climbed way up when a newspaper reporter from Denver showed up to cover Senator Cochran’s daughter’s wedding. Never in his life had he been ashamed of his town, and he wasn’t now, just wished the streets weren’t quite so muddy.
Paul, acting as his best man, walked into the parlor at his house. “You sure you want to do this? You know Priscilla can be a pain in the neck at times?”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
“Good. If you weren’t sure, I was going to take you out back and beat the shit out of you.”
“You know, Paul, one day you’ll go through this. I just want you to know I’ll be there to laugh at you and the woman you chose who will also be a pain in the neck at times.”
“Yeah. When I marry, I’m looking for a woman like my cousin Michael’s wife, Heidi. She’s a sweet woman, does what he wants. That’s the kind of wife I’ll marry.”
“Let’s go, men. It’s time to leave for church.” Ben stuck his head in.
“Can I drive?” Mitch asked.
“No.” Paul, Ben, and Henry said at the same time.
As they went out the door, Mitch said, “It’s my wedding day, guys. Come on, let me drive.”
Priscilla studied herself in the full-length mirror her mama managed to get from somewhere. She was still stunned at what Mama had accomplished in little more than a week. She’d put together a wedding the likes of which Priscilla was certain no one in Dogtown had ever seen.
She’d bullied Mrs. Gillis into making a beautiful wedding cake, charmed Pastor Thatcher into allowing them to use the church hall for a wedding reception, and had the café at the end of the street providing chicken, biscuits, and salad for the guests. She’d even put together a three-piece band by cajoling the organist to switch to piano and join two of the town’s fiddle players.
Mama had brought with her a beautiful, white, gathered chiffon dress. Four different kinds of white lace adorned the bodice and sleeves. The lace also layered a white ruffled underskirt. Priscilla put the ring of flowers with the veil that went all the way down to her shoes over her hair. How Papa managed to get flowers in winter was a mystery to her.
A slight knock on her door drew her attention from the mirror. Mama opened the door and stuck her head in. “Papa is here to escort you, honey.” She stepped into the room and covered her mouth with her two hands. “Oh, my. My little girl is all grown up.”
“Oh, Mama, don’t cry. You’ll make me cry and I’ll appear at my wedding with splotches all over my face.”
Mama dabbed at her eyes and held her arms out. Priscilla walked up to her and gave her a hug.
“Be happy, my daughter.”
“Thank you, Mama.” Priscilla picked up her veil and laid it over her arm and took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
Watching Mama with her eyes filled with tears had been bad enough, but when Papa took one look at her and blinked rapidly, she thought she would crumble. “Papa, don’t.”
He extended his arm. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Very sure, Papa. I love him so much.”
He took in a deep breath. “In that case, let’s get you to the church. I’m sure there is a very nervous young man waiting there for you.”
They attracted a lot of attention, driving the automobile down the main street of Dogtown, Colorado. Priscilla looked from side to side, remembering when she first arrived in the mail coach. How small and quaint the town looked. Now it was home. The streets were still muddy, the same storekeepers stood outside waving as she rode by, and her entire class of students was lined up in front of the church. All of them with shiny faces and dressed in their Sunday best.
They passed the general store where she first saw Mitch. She had climbed from the mail coach and literally fell at his feet. She smiled at the memory. Who would have thought then that she would one day be riding with her papa to the church to marry the man who had ordered her back onto the mail coach?
Life had its twists and turns.
She waved to all the children as she climbed the steps to the door of the church. Papa held firmly onto her arm as they entered. She gasped at the amount of decorations. Her mama was truly a miracle worker. The music started, and she and Papa walked down the aisle. Mitch was handsome in his suit and tie, with Paul standing alongside him, smiling brightly.
Ian and Andrew waved to her from the pew where Mama had slipped in with them. Papa shook Mitch’s hand, gave her a kiss on her cheek, and placed her hand in her soon-to-be husband’s.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
“And you clean up pretty good yourself.”
Grinning at each other, they turned and faced the pastor who smiled brightly, then in a slow, deep voice began. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in God's presence to witness and to celebrate the marriage of Mitchell Lincoln Beaumont and Priscilla Margaret Cochran…”