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A funny emotion sloshed around in his gut. No one had ever been proud of him before. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the feeling.
“Maybe we can help with the situation,” Martha said, a slight tremor in her voice the only thing that betrayed her nervousness.
Gray tore his gaze from Mercy with more difficulty than he’d like to admit. He started to question Martha, but Mercy reached out and lightly squeezed his arm. The sensation of someone’s fingers on his forearm should not be able to stop all other bodily functions, but he seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. How to do anything, really, except stand and stare at that hand and revel in the heat that seemed to seep into and through him from the contact.
“What do you mean, Martha?” Mercy asked.
Martha smiled. “Well, Mrs. DuVere and some of the girls and I were talking, and we know with everything going on, taking care of wedding arrangements is probably the last thing on your mind. And it’s just terrible, with everything else that you’ve gone through lately, to have to postpone your wedding as well. So, well, we took care of everything for you!”
“What?” Mercy asked, her eyes wide with shock.
“We…oh, come see!” Martha said, grasping Mercy’s hand and towing her out the door.
Mercy threw a terrified look at him over her shoulder.
“You might as well go along, since it concerns you, too,” Mrs. DuVere said, laughing.
Gray would rather step into an erupting volcano than follow those women out the door but also couldn’t seem to stop himself. Like barreling toward the edge of a waterfall, knowing full well you’re about to go over but unable to do anything about it.
“You”—he pointed to Jason—“stay here and watch them,” he said, flicking a finger toward the occupied cells.
“You got it, Sheriff,” Jason said, taking a seat behind the desk.
Sheriff.
That was never going to sound right to him.
Gray trailed after the women with Doc and the preacher at his heels. Guess this was a town affair.
His curiosity was piqued when the women pulled Mercy into the tavern and up the staircase that led to the second-floor parlor house. Doc followed them all without problem, but Gray was amused to see the obvious discomfort the preacher felt crossing the threshold.
Gray took a look around once inside and wasn’t all that surprised to find it opulent but incredibly tasteful. The most successful parlor houses, at least the ones he’d visited, were usually decked out with all the comforts a man might want. Desolation might be a small town, but Mrs. DuVere obviously ran a profitable business. Or she’d brought enough money with her from wherever she’d come from to make it seem so. Either way, her establishment, dripping with velvet, damask wall coverings, crystal lamps, and plush elegance was a welcome sight.
But the women didn’t pause, continuing on through the establishment’s front rooms, through a plant-choked conservatory, and out onto a balcony that overlooked a tiled back patio.
Where a wedding arch covered in flowers and ribbons had been set up.
Gray’s heart damn near stopped beating.
A narrow aisle had been created with a few chairs on each side, leading up to the arch. A few cloth-covered tables sat nearby, and another longer table stood already stacked with fine china dishes and cups.
Mercy stood looking around at everything, her mouth open but completely speechless. His sentiment exactly.
“What do you think?” Martha said, her hands clasped near her chest as she watched Mercy anxiously.
“I…I don’t know what to say,” she said. She took a few deep breaths and seemed to pull herself together somewhat. She grasped her friend’s hand. “It’s all beautiful, Martha, truly.”
Martha’s face immediately melted into a relieved vision of excited happiness. “Oh, I’m so glad you love it! See, you can descend from the back stairs here. We thought that might be better than coming out of the tavern, though you can if you think that would be easier. And coming down the stairs here would make such a pretty image.”
“It’s wonderful,” Mercy said. “But…I…you did this for me?”
“Of course! You were saying that you didn’t have time to deal with any of this, what with everything going on, and it’s just not fair that you two…” Martha glanced at him and grinned. “I’ve got a cake all made up and the girls and I have been cooking all day.”
“You have?” Mercy said, her voice noticeably fainter. “But you didn’t even know we’d be coming into town today.”
“We had plans to go fetch you both, but you beat us to it!” Martha giggled. “Everything is all ready. All we need is the bride and groom.”
Gray’s brain seemed to be encased in some sort of fog that refused to let him make sense of exactly what was going on. But from what he could make out…he was about to get married.
