“I did.” Katie gingerly pointed toward the television console in the corner while Lissa went to work on her hemline. “I hid them in there.”
Dana beat Charlotte to the cabinet and pulled out four shoe boxes, tipping the first one open. “Oh,” she gasped, pulling out a sparkling light-gold high heel with a winding strap across the front. “This is gorgeous.”
“I figured the metallic gold would class up the outfit and play well off the green and purple.” Katie looked down at her bare knees. “Also, I assumed we’d all wear our gold crosses and the gold earrings Great-Grandma May gave us for our eighteenth birthdays, so that’ll tie it all together.”
Dana grinned, feeling lighter for the first time in too long. She’d missed her sisters. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”
“Now.” Lissa grinned. “Katie, fix Dana’s makeup, would you? We need to get that slumbering wolf to wake up and howl.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wolfe had helped with the chairs and then found his assigned hotel room, changing into the suit that Dana had said was perfect before heading back outside. He’d also shaved. Ties weren’t his thing, but he could handle one for a few hours. He looked out over the wide swath of white chairs facing a gazebo in front of the winding river. Trees on the other side made for a nice backdrop. Many people had already been seated, and music played softly through speakers set unobtrusively around the area. A breeze wandered through, and with a slight cloud cover, it wasn’t too hot.
He felt mildly guilty at locking Roscoe in his room on the second floor after sneaking the pooch up the back stairs, but dogs weren’t usually allowed at weddings. He’d googled it earlier.
Where should he sit? Was there a spot for a kinda friend, not really date, of a bridesmaid who had unprotected sex with her after being drugged at a BDSM party? He doubted it.
“Hey.” A gray-haired guy, broad across the chest and with Dana’s green eyes, came up from the side. “I didn’t get a chance earlier to thank you for helping with the chairs. The woman barking orders is my not-so-sweet sister, Roberta, and we try not to piss her off.” He held out a beefy hand. “I’m Mitch Mulberry.”
“Clarence Wolfe.” Wolfe shook, impressed by the man’s strength.
Mitch released him and turned to look at the chairs. “My wife wants me to check you out. You have good intentions toward my daughter?”
“Always.” Even though Dana and he might not agree upon those intentions.
“Good.” Mitch slapped him on the back. “Why don’t you come sit up front with me? You’re a big guy. If things go south, you can block the way while I run.” He tugged on his tie. “I hate dressing up. How about you?”
Wolfe followed him up the aisle to the second row, careful not to tear the flimsy material dotted with rose petals on the way. “I find it’s difficult to get to the knife in my boot when I’m dressed up, but Dana said I can take the jacket off after the wedding.”
Mitch took the second seat and left the aisle seat for Wolfe. “You have a knife in your boot?” His bushy eyebrows rose, and the smile lines near his eyes crinkled in his weathered face.
“Yeah.” Wolfe settled into the seat, which was a little too small. “Don’t you?”
Mitch grinned. “Buddy, I have four beautiful daughters. Believe me, I always have a knife close by.”
Wolfe matched his smile.
Mitch reached into his jacket pocket. “Did anyone find you a bingo card?” he whispered.
Wolfe shook his head.
Mitch handed over a square sheet of paper. “I have an extra, but don’t let anybody see it, especially my wife. Winner gets the pot.” He paused. “Oh. Give me twenty dollars.”
Wolfe handed over a twenty, which quickly disappeared in Mitch’s right pocket. Then he looked at the squares on his paper. “Ah. So I cross off what I see.” Was this what families did at weddings? He hadn’t seen a purple hat, someone’s Spanx, or a flask yet. He read more. “What is a jortz?”
“Jean shorts on a man,” Mitch whispered. “We have a couple of cousins that’ll give you that square if they make it here.”
“Not sure I want to see that.” Wolfe tucked the bingo card away in his pocket, oddly touched to take part in the family bingo game.
“You fish?” Mitch asked.
Wolfe rubbed his now smoothly shaven chin. “I haven’t but think I’d like it. I mean, if there weren’t a bunch of people around also fishing.”
Mitch nodded. “Exactly. A man fishes to commune with nature, not neighbors. We should go sometime.”
A pang hit Wolfe dead center in the chest. “I’d like that.” Chances weren’t great, but who knew? Maybe he would live to learn how to fish. “Thanks for the thought.” His voice had become gruff for some reason.
“Do you have ‘flask’ as one of your squares?” Mitch asked.
