Kathleen stirred cream into her coffee, her expression thoughtful. “Carol mentioned the barn needed some work done before it’s ready. Something about the heating system?”
“Matt fixed that last week.” Susan made a checkmark beside an item on her list. “He also reinforced the stage area where we’re setting up the ceremony. The barn’s structurally sound and insulated. It just needs decorating.”
The door chimed again, and Lynda rushed in on another gust of snow. Her hair was escaping from its ponytail, and she had that slightly frazzled look of someone who’d been dealing with canine emergencies since sunrise.
“Sorry, sorry,” she gasped, dropping into the remaining chair. “Mrs. Henderson’s Chihuahua has no sense of portion control.”
“The cookie thief?” Isabel asked.
“The same.” Lynda accepted the soup Kathleen slid toward her with obvious gratitude. “I’ve been up since five this morning, and I still have three more appointments before I can even think about wedding preparations.”
Susan studied her friend’s face, noting the tension around her eyes, the way her shoulders hunched forward. She’d seen this before, though usually in brides half Lynda’s age. The week-before-the-wedding panic, when every small detail suddenly felt monumental.
“Eat first,” Susan said. “Then we’ll walk through what needs to happen tomorrow.”
They ate in comfortable silence, the kind that came from decades of friendship. Outside, the snow continued falling, blanketing Sapphire Bay in white. Susan thought about the winters in Georgia, the mild temperatures that rarely required more than a light jacket. Montana winters were something else entirely, beautiful and brutal in equal measure.
“Okay,” Lynda said finally, setting down her spoon. “I’m ready. Tell me what disaster I haven’t anticipated yet.”
“There’s no disaster.” Kathleen’s voice carried the calm authority of someone who’d survived her share of crises. “Tomorrow we’re meeting at the barn at nine in the morning. We’ll have all day to set things up exactly the way you want them.”
Isabel pulled out her own notebook. It was just as organized as Susan’s. “I’ve got the flower situation handled. Pastor John’s wife, Shelley, grows hellebores in her greenhouse, and she’s cutting them fresh on Christmas Eve morning. White and deep purple, just like you wanted.”
Lynda’s eyes widened. “Hellebores in December? How did you manage that?”
“Shelley’s been growing them for the last couple of years. She says they’re the only flowers that bloom reliably in a Montana winter.” Isabel grinned. “She’s also throwing in some evergreen branches and pinecones at no charge. Her wedding gift to you and Matt.”
“That’s incredibly generous,” Lynda said softly.
“What about the layout of the barn for the ceremony?” Kathleen asked.
“Pastor John is providing simple wooden benches. We’ll arrange them in two sections with an aisle down the middle.” Susan sketched the layout on a fresh page. “We’ll hang white fabric on the barn’s back wall to cover the exposed wood. And if we use fairy lights at the front of the barn, and LED candles along the aisle, it will look lovely.”
“And for the reception?” Lynda’s voice carried a note of anxiety.
“We have round tables that we’ll push against the wall after everyone’s finished eating. That will leave the center open for dancing.” Susan turned to another page in her notebook. “Each table seats six guests. We’ll use white tablecloths with simple centerpieces. Nothing fussy.”
Isabel leaned forward. “That sounds amazing. What about the cake table?”
“It’ll be near the barn entrance, positioned so the guests see it when they arrive.” Susan had planned this detail carefully. Wedding cakes were centerpieces, conversation starters, and a sign of the important event they celebrated. “The cake has three tiers, white fondant frosting, and fondant flowers cascading down one side. It’s classic and clean.”
Isabel scrolled through the images on her phone and showed Kathleen a photo of the finished cake. “Megan from Sweet Treats did a fantastic job.”
Susan turned to the next page of notes. “And we’re using the gorgeous silk flowers you found for the table decorations, Lynda. The burgundy roses and cream peonies with the evergreen sprigs will tie everything together beautifully.”
Lynda smiled at the mention of her craft store find. “I was worried they might look cheap. But when Isabel and I wired them together, they turned out better than I had hoped.”
“They’re perfect,” Isabel confirmed. “We can arrange them with the candles and pine branches on each table. It’ll look elegant without being overdone.”
Lynda was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the table. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”
“In three days, you’ll be Mrs. Lynda Reynolds,” Kathleen confirmed.
“I keep thinking I’ll wake up and discover it was all a dream. That I’m still married to Ray and convinced that I don’t deserve anything better.” Lynda’s voice cracked slightly. “How did I get this lucky?”
Susan reached across the table and squeezed her friend’s hand. “You got lucky by being brave enough to leave what wasn’t working. By moving here and starting over. By saying yes when Matt asked you to dinner.”
“And by having three friends who won’t let you second-guess yourself four days before your wedding,” Isabel added firmly.
