Page 27 of Tempest (Old West 3)

Men and women were swarming over the Lee property like ants when Spring and Regan arrived. Tents were being set up, the air was fragrant with the smells of roasting meat and food, and she could hear laughter as folks went about the preparations.

“Let’s get you inside. No one’s supposed to see the bride before the event.”

“Spring—”

“You’re the closest I’m ever coming to being a bride, so humor me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Carrying the gown she planned to be married in, she followed Spring without a further word.

Inside the house, she was led to a room in the back. “This used to be Adele’s room.”

The small space held a bed, a wardrobe, and a mirrored vanity table. It was about the size of Regan’s closet back home and the reality that she was getting married without her loving family by her side instantly made her melancholy, but she shook it off as best she could and hung her dress in the empty wardrobe.

“I’ll get someone to bring in the trunks, then I’ll get Anna and myself dressed and ready.”

In the silence that settled after Spring’s exit, Regan glanced around at the room that she supposed would be her own and wondered how Adele felt about another woman being in the lives of her husband and daughter. Regan truly wanted this new life to be successful, even if Colton Lee never grew feelings for her in his heart. Her musings were interrupted by the appearance of Ben and the telegraph operator, Odell Waters, hauling in her trunks.

Ben groused, “You plan on adding a new room to the house to store whatever’s in all these trunks?”

She didn’t reply. Instead, she asked Mr. Waters, “Has my telegraph been sent?”

“Not yet, but I’m trying every day, twice a day to get it out. Don’t worry.”

But she did because she’d promised to send word to her family as soon as she arrived. By now they were probably very concerned.

The men had to make two trips, and with the arrival of each additional trunk and hatbox, the room seemed smaller and smaller. When the two men finished she thanked them.

Odell smiled. Ben didn’t. They exited, leaving her alone again. Regan began unearthing what she needed from the trunks.

An hour later, Regan studied her reflection in the wardrobe and was glad she’d packed what her sister, Portia, humorously called her “beetle dress.” The sweeping skirt was an iridescent blue silk that glowed with beauty and had three-quarters length sleeves. The sapphire bodice had a modest neckline and hugged her frame snugly. Around her throat hung a cameo on a blue velvet ribbon. Small sapphire ear bobs graced her lobes. Her hair was swept up, her face and lips fashionably painted and the way she looked was indeed enough to send the annoying Enright widow fleeing to the Klondike. Regan’s real goal, however, was to knock the aloof Dr. Colton Lee to his knees. Smiling at herself, she took a seat on the bed to await Spring and Anna. Her groom didn’t stand a chance.

They appeared a few minutes later. Spring, dressed in a blue gown and with her hair up looked nothing like a woman who slaughtered hogs and sold horses. Anna, wearing a little red velvet dress, white stocking, and black slippers looked adorable.

“You look like a princess,” Regan said to her.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do.”

Anna smiled broadly at the compliment.

Spring said, “And you, Miss Carmichael, look like a queen. My brother’s eyes are going to bug out and roll around on the ground.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself. The dress is beautiful.”

Spring looked embarrassed.

To spare her, Regan asked, “Do you think they’re ready for us?”

“Yes. So, let’s get going.”

Dressed in the black suit he usually reserved for weddings or funerals, a terse Colt waited for his bride to appear. He’d been right about half the county showing up, because his fields were overrun with friends, neighbors, and people he’d never met. There was food and horseshoe tossing, dominoes, and poker games. Someone, probably Lacy Miller, had erected a bower decorated with wildflowers. Upon seeing it, Colt rolled his eyes, but was now standing beneath it waiting with his friend the sheriff, Whitman Lambert.

“I thought Ben was standing up with you?”

“I did, too, but he rode off about an hour ago.”

“To where?”

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