“I can tell a fellow horse girl,” she replied as I braided the last of the miniature roses into the horse’s tail. They cascaded down like in the tails of those ponies inFantasia. “So beautiful! Let’s hope he can keep them in place until the parade.”
“So back to the wedding festival,” Sophie said. “Does that mean we aren’t catering?”
“We should cater for the wedding party,” Ivy said, making notes in her sparkly pink-and-gold planner. “Maybe they can have a quick reception then go into town for the festival.”
“It really should be up to the bride,” Grace said, snapping pictures of all the horses wandering around Main Street.
The horse festival was a very popular event, and people had come from all over to view the decorated animals.
“Amy,” Ivy said, “it’s on your to-do list to figure out what Meg wants.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
Meg had been difficult lately to get ahold of. As the mayor, she was busy from early morning to late at night, and I felt bad about interrupting what time she had alone with Hunter.
After all, Weddings in the City was technically supposed to be a one-stop shop to make the lives of busy brides easier and the wedding a smooth, relaxing, and enjoyable event. Many of our brides—okay, maybe most—veered dangerously into bridezilla territory and wanted to work with us on coordinating every little detail. But Meg didn’t. It was an uncertain place to be.
My ultimate fear was planning a wedding that the bride hated. And a festival, while fun for the town, might not ultimately be something Meg wanted.
I wandered down Main Street, looking for her, waving to people I had known forever, and fending off a number of people wanting to give their opinions on the wedding.
“You need to put Meg in an offbeat dress,” one woman insisted, shoving a bridal magazine in my face. “Maybe a gray dress or blue, like Cinderella.”
“I’m not the dress person,” I said, deflecting.
“Make sure you have bagpipes,” another man said.
The crowd parted to reveal a whole array of members of the local bagpipes club. I tried not to wince as they launched into a rousing rendition of “Here Comes the Bride.”
“We’ll keep it under consideration,” I assured them.
I finally found Meg in the town square. She was wearing a big straw hat and a sash that read ‘Mayor’.
She was standing next to Sebastian, who sat astride a big black horse.
The large Friesian horse’s flowing mane and tail had been carefully dyed a twilight color gradient with tiny sparkling crystals interwoven in the horse’s hair.
“What a big, handsome boy,” I cooed.
Meg snickered, and Sebastian scowled at me.
“What did you just call me?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I retorted. “I was talking to this big, beautiful boy.” I handed the horse one of the oat treats I had in my pocket.
He ate it with a big crunch.
“Who did your hair?” I cooed, petting the horse.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Meg asked with a sigh. “I feel like I can’t just give him a ribbon, even though it is a beautiful job. My sister Hazel did the artwork.”
“It might look like favoritism to award the top prize to the best man at your wedding,” I agreed.
“Or my fiancé!” Meg quipped as Hunter rode up on an identical black horse with a similar twilight-gradient mane and tail.
“Meg, I needed to talk to you about the wedding,” I said in a rush as Hunter jumped off the horse and kissed her.
“I don’t care,” she said, laughing. “I just want to be married.”
