Mel's Arc

Chapter 30 of 36

Cross stood safe on the wooden floor, but the barn behind him was empty. No benches. No cloth on the walls. Guests would arrive in three hours to bare boards. Mel had won her preacher and lost the whole morning of setup. Ted set the stacked benches by the door. "We built these for a reason," he said. "Let's fill the room." Mel counted the work in her head. Benches to place. Cloth to hang. Wreaths to tie on the doors. Alone, it would take a day. She had three hours. Then she looked at Cross, still brushing wagon dust from his coat. "I've raised barns and buried the poor," Cross said. He set his red Bible on a windowsill and rolled up his sleeves. "I can carry a bench." That broke the panic loose. Mel gave orders fast. Ted hauled benches two at a time and set them in rows facing the front. Mel climbed a ladder and hung the borrowed cloth along the three walls, tacking it so the folds fell clean. Cross tied greenery over the doors, his knots slow but tight. Half an hour in, the linen driver came back. He had unloaded at the hotel and turned his wagon around. "Thought you'd be short-handed," he said. He climbed down and started shifting benches without asking. Then two neighbor women arrived early, aprons on, and took over the cloth so Mel could work the flowers. More hands came. A man who had built the barn walls carried in an armful of spring blooms his wife had cut. They tied clusters to the bench ends. Someone hung a wreath of white and red roses on each door. The room changed. Bare boards became rows. Blank walls became draped cloth. The barn started to look like a place a person could be married. Mel stepped back near the door and looked. Two hours ago it had been an empty shell. Now the benches sat straight. The cloth hung soft. The doors wore their wreaths. It was rough work, done fast, but it held together. "Go put your dress on," one of the women said. "We'll finish the rest." Mel found the gown where she had hung it, all flowing layers and pale lace. She changed in the corner stall while the last benches slid into place. When she came out, Ted stood by the front in his blue jacket and vest, hair combed, boots clean. He looked at her and forgot to speak. Cross took his spot at the head of the room and picked up his Bible. Through the open doors, dust rose on the road. The first wagon of guests was coming. "The room's ready," Ted said. He took her hand. Mel breathed. The barn was dressed. The preacher waited. But the Caldwells knew this day too, and the guests rolling in now would watch to see if anyone dared stop it.