Page 128 of What Doesn't Kill Her

Birdie was suddenly all business. “We’ll worry about that after we get you into that dress. With that corset and those petticoats, it ain’t gonna be easy.”

Birdie wasn’t kidding.

The pantyhose had to go on first, then the corset, then the deceptively simple dress—heavy crepe with a formfitting bodice, natural waist wrapped by a fabric belt, and full skirt—which created its shape with boning and three weighty petticoats. The skirt had pockets hidden in the side seams, deep pockets for Kellen to hide her phone, her tissues, her lipstick. The final touch was the elastic lace garter that wrapped around Kellen’s thigh so tightly she complained it was cutting off the circulation to her foot.

“Wait until you put on these shoes. You won’t even notice the garter.” Birdie put the stiletto heels on the floor and Kellen pushed her left foot into one.

“Damn Zio Federico. I wasn’t going to wear them, then during that last fitting, he laid it on with the flattery, saying I was absolutely right about what I should wear, he agreed that I didn’t need an expert to do my makeup because I’m beautiful enough without it, that my hair was perfect as it is and indicated to the discerning man that a tigress lived within my soul...” She took a breath, put her weight on the foot with the shoe, lifted herself and slid the right foot in. “He said that I had a great sense of personal style, that I was the most beautiful bride he’d ever dressed...”

“Are you saying Zio Federico flattered you into wearing heels?” Birdie laughed hard enough that Kellen was disgusted with herself.

“Yes.” The pointed toes pinched and the heels threw her forward until she figured out how to lean her shoulders back and her hips forward. Her whole body was a counterbalance obeying the command of those damned heels. “All Italian women wear these. They climb mountains in them. What I want to know is how?”

“I don’t know.I’mnot wearing them.Ididn’t fall for the flattery.”

Slowly, painfully, Kellen stepped toward the full-length mirror.

“But looking at you, I’m not so sure I made the right decision.” Birdie adjusted Kellen’s skirt.

Kellen gazed into the mirror. The movement of the crepe was fluid, flowing, rippling into a short train that looked like a pale silk stream. Zio Federico’s cap sleeves and her own sculpted arms and shoulders made her appear... “Wow. I look like one of Rae’s dolls with all the princess clothes on.”

Birdie grinned. “You do.”

“Like ThunderFlash.”

Birdie smiled affectionately. “That, too.”

Kellen noticed Birdie standing beside her, tall, thin and uniquely beautiful. “You’re pretty fine yourself.”

“Thank you. Zio Federico told me in Italy, with my facial structure, I could be a model.”

Kellen scrutinized her friend. “You really could. Carson knows it, too.”

Birdie waggled her head. “Carson wants to marry me.”

“Will you?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe. He’s a lot older, he’s been married three times, I was widowed less than a year ago. We’ve got a good relationship as it is.”

“All good reasons to put the brakes on.” Kellen played the wise adviser.

“But sometimes when he looks at me...” Birdie pressed her hand to her chest. “I can hardly breathe for the joy of being with him.”

“I know. I know what you mean. Max makes me feel as if...”

“As if you were in love?”

Together they laughed and hugged. They had faced battle, treachery, trucks that wouldn’t start and ammunitions that blew too soon, death and joy. Through it all, their friendship had endured and grown.

The closer Kellen got to the wedding, the more her heart tugged and tore at the thought of having a daughter, a family, a home. The knowledge that someone had tried to kill her weighed on her more and more, and not for noble reasons. Not because Max might be hurt, or Rae or Verona, but because Kellen wanted time with these people who had come to mean everything to her. She wanted to be where they were, love them with all the fervency of someone who had died and was now coming back to life. She wanted that for herself...and in every way, that seemed impossible.

“Don’t look so sad,” Birdie said.

“I’m not. I’m just—”

At a knock, they separated.

“Is it time?” Kellen asked.

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