Chapter 25
Susan watched snowflakes drift past Kathleen’s café windows, each one catching the warm interior light before dissolving against the glass.
Outside, Sapphire Bay looked like a picture-perfect postcard.
She pulled her cardigan closer and took another sip of her herbal tea, savoring the moment before chaos descended.
In three days, Lynda would marry Matt in the barn at the Paws of Hope Animal Shelter. That didn’t leave them much time to create a wedding venue worthy of her friend’s second chance at happiness.
The café door opened, bringing a swirl of cold air and Isabel’s laugh. She stamped snow from her boots, her cheeks pink from the winter chill. “You should see Main Street,” she told Susan. “Frank says this is the heaviest December snow we’ve had since he moved here.”
“The traffic must be terrible,” Susan said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her.
“Terrible implies there was traffic to begin with.” Isabel unwound her scarf and draped it over the back of the chair. “I passed two cars on the drive here. Two. This town practically shuts down when it snows.”
Kathleen emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with sandwiches and soup bowls.
Her café smelled of fresh bread and roasted vegetables, scents that made Susan’s chest ache with a familiar professional longing.
After years of creating these aromas in commercial kitchens, she still felt the pull of feeding people well.
“Lynda just texted,” Kathleen announced, setting plates around the table. “She’s running ten minutes late. Apparently, someone brought in a dog who’d eaten an entire plate of cookies meant for Santa.”
Isabel laughed. “Was the dog okay?”
“The dog will survive. The cookies did not.” Kathleen poured herself a cup of coffee and joined them. “Which gives us exactly ten minutes to work out how we’re going to decorate the barn tomorrow. Is the ceremony still starting at five?”
Susan pulled out her notebook. “It is, and the reception starts immediately after the service.”
Isabel reached for a sandwich. “How many guests are coming?”
“As of this morning, still thirty,” Susan replied. “There’ll be finger food, wedding cake, and dancing until people decide to brave the drive home.” Susan flipped to another page. “Paul’s handling the food from his restaurant kitchen. I’m doing the cake and coordinating everything else on-site.”
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.
The conversation shifted to logistics—the practical details that made events run smoothly. Who was bringing what tomorrow, what time everyone would arrive, and a backup plan if the snow continued falling. Susan made notes, adjusted timelines, and mentally rehearsed the setup sequence.
“I visited the barn yesterday,” Kathleen said thoughtfully. “It’s bigger than I remembered. When I was there for a fundraiser last spring, it felt a lot smaller.”
“Carol said they cleared out the furniture that was stored there,” Lynda explained. “Everything has been moved to a temporary building behind the kennels. The barn’s completely empty except for the stage area and the old wooden beams.”
Susan remembered the beams from the pictures she’d found on the animal shelter’s website.
The massive timbers stretched overhead, rough-hewn, and solid.
They’d been part of the original structure when the barn was built decades ago, before Carol transformed the space into a community gathering place for fundraisers and events.
“We’ll wrap the beams in evergreen garlands,” she said, making another note. “If we keep the decorations simple, the architecture will speak for itself.”
“What about lighting?” Isabel asked. “The barn has big overhead lights, but they’re pretty harsh.”
“We’re turning those off during the ceremony and reception. Mabel Terry is lending us portable heaters and standing lamps. Combined with the fairy lights and LED candles, it should create the right atmosphere.”
Lynda picked at her sandwich, her appetite clearly gone. “What if something goes wrong? What if the heaters don’t work, or the weather gets worse, or—”
“Then we’ll handle it,” Susan interrupted gently. “Between the four of us and everyone else’s help, we have decades of problem-solving experience. Something will go wrong because it always does. But we’ll fix it, and you’ll never know the difference.”
“She’s right,” Kathleen said. “Isabel and I have been to enough weddings to know that the bride never sees half the crises that get resolved behind the scenes.”