Page 37 of My Darling Clementine

“Stay a good girl, and you will, you silly goose,” said Mrs. Bates, fingering a lace veil. “But this is her day, so get a move on.”

Standing in front of the beveled mirror, heart beating faster as her excitement grew, Kizzy closed her eyes as the two matrons lowered her wedding dress over her head, settling it around her. She kept them shut as hands twitched and tugged the lace and silk into place, while others piled her hair on top of her head in an elaborate style that took four sharp hairpins. When the flurry of activity around her stopped, she heard all three women gasp. Mrs. Blair said, “You make a beautiful bride, my dear. Open your eyes.”

The woman staring at her in the mirror looked older and more mature than Kizzy’s eighteen years. The pale blue gown accentuated the color of her eyes, and the soft material lit her skin with a lustrous hue. A fine, filmy veil pinned to her thick hair fell almost to the floor. Dropped puff sleeves left her shoulders bare, exposing a creamy expanse of mounded flesh and tantalizing cleavage. The tight bodice, clever skirt design, and heeled boots gave her a silhouette far more curvaceous than usual. She blinked, as did the beautiful image in the mirror.

“That’s me,” Kizzy whispered. She blinked again. “I’m beautiful.”

She’d been told she was pretty, but never understood why. She wore plain, modest clothing, her face was the same as everyone else’s and she should know, she taught herself to draw portraits by looking in a mirror. It felt surreal to see herself as others did, but no stranger than everything else that happened over the last two days.

“I didn’t know I could look like this.” Tears sprang to her eyes.

“Well?” urged Gabby. “What do you think of it?”

“Hush, girl,” said Mrs. Bates, nodding, tears sparkling in her own eyes. “She’s taking it in. The world is ugly, and very few times in a woman’s life will she feel this beautiful. Give her a moment to remember.”

“Pish and tosh,” disagreed Mrs. Blair. She patted the other married woman on the arm. “You need to come around my shop more often, Sarah.” Her critical eye took in the other woman’s gown. “We’ll get you feeling pretty before you know it.”

The long-faced Mrs. Bates blushed, realizing how her words sounded. “I might, at that,” she said with a chuckle. “Romance is in the air.” She swatted Gabby’s backside and shooed her out of the room before her. “I’ll leave the finishing touches to you, Abbie. Gabby’s got water to heat and I’ve a few other things to tend. Once she’s dressed, take her down to room four at the end of the hall to wait. That’ll be their honeymoon suite for the night.”

“Why change rooms?”

“She’ll be staying with her husband, of course. And this way we’ve one tub to fill and empty, saving time.” Mrs. Bates laughed as she went out the door. “Oh, he’s an eager one all right. Had the whole thing figured out and told me how to set it up before breakfast this morning.”

“You’re a lucky one, Miss Walker.” Mrs. Blair stood behind her, looking over her shoulder into the looking glass. “Most husband’s want nothing to do with their wife’s wedding day. He seems very sweet.”

“I am lucky, aren’t I?” she asked, doubt tinging her voice as she fingered the pretty gown. “Oh, Mrs. Blair, tell me I’m not making a terrible mistake.” A sense of panic grabbed her by the throat. “I mean, I don’t really know him, and we’re leaving tomorrow, and I won’t know anyone where we’re going, or if there will even be other women there.” Her eyes grew even larger. “What if I’m all alone, and everything turns out terrible. I’ve read books like that.”

“First off, call me Abbie,” said the older woman with a quick squeeze of her shoulders. “And second, every bride has those same exact thoughts.” She shrugged. “It happens, I won’t say it doesn’t, but honey, I’ve never seen a man more thoughtful than yours. I’m sure you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I’m Kizzy. My mother named me for her mother,” sniffed the pale bride, staring at her reflection. “I wish she were here, and could see me like this.”

“I’m sure you do. Do you have anything of hers to carry or wear, to make it feel like she’s here with you?”

“I do!” She hurried over to her discarded clothing, rummaged down to the bloomers, and unpinned the small, beaded bag. She pulled from it a necklace of strung pearls with a matching set of earrings. “My grandfather gave these to my grandmother, and she left them to my mother. They were with the money she gave me.”

“They’re perfect, my dear,” exclaimed Abbie. “I was going to loan you my brooch for your decolletage, but this,” she draped the pearls, “sets off your slender neck, and the earbobs will make it look all the longer.” As she fastened them on Kizzy, she said, “I’m sure your mother would be proud of you today. You’re the picture of a perfect bride.” A mother’s kiss brushed her cheek, and Kizzy closed her eyes, pretending.

“Now, let’s gather your things and get out of here so your fiancé can take his last bath as a single man.” She opened the door as an eager Gabby appeared carrying two pails to empty cold bathwater before refilling it with hot. They carried Kizzy’s laundry and suitcase to the end of the hall, where Abbie reached for the knob on the last door.

“Shouldn’t we knock first?”

“Silly girl, there is no chance Mr. Bobblecopper will see you before the wedding, believe you me.” Abbie laughed. “I can hear my daughter downstairs already, and Sarah won’t let him upstairs until she knows we’re in here. This is the one place he is not.” She swung open the door.

Clem stood on the other side with a hand covering her eyes. “Actually, I am here, Mrs. Blair.” She tilted her head. “And my name isn’t Bobblecopper.”

“What?” said Kizzy with a wink for Mrs. Blair. “And I suppose it’s not Kabobblebopper, either?” She laughed. “What is your name, sir? Who will I be marrying in a few minutes?” she demanded in a cheeky voice.

Clem snorted and started edging toward the door, keeping one hand over her eyes as she stuffed the other in her pocket. “Your name will be Dennison, although mine is Mud at the moment.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for a bath?”

“I forgot something I need, and convinced Mrs. Bates I could slip up and back down before Kizzy could be ready.” Clem shook her head. “I was mistaken, but I know it’s unlucky to see the bride before the wedding, and even though I want to, I’m not looking.” As if to prove it, she stubbed her toe on the door with her next step. “Ow, Goddamn it!”

Abbie snorted, and with one hand she swung Kizzy into the room, while with the other she pushed Clem out, shutting the door and turning the key in the lock.

“You know I have the other key,” teased Clem, rattling the knob.

“Mr. Dennison! What are you doing?” The sound of sharp footsteps sounded in the hall as Mrs. Bates took charge. “Now you get on back downstairs until Gabby finishes warming your bath. Go to the bar and tell Mr. Bates I said to give you a beer to keep you busy.”