by Sable Sylvan
“Where the heck is Sage?” hissed Savina.
“He went inside to get his brothers,” said Cayenne.
“Well, get him out here, she’s going to ruin another set of clothes if she doesn’t get up!” said Savina in a harsh whisper, but Addison heard and cried harder. Addison wasn’t usually such a crybaby, but it had been an emotionally exhausting day.
Savina rubbed her temples as Cayenne ran back into the house. She looked at the wedding dresses. Her sisters had spent a long time trying to find them and now, they were destroyed. They looked like they’d been dipped in hot sauce, and they weren’t going to be in a wearable condition, even stained.
The brothers Scoville came out of the house, and Sage ran to Addison. He lifted her right up off the ground and cradled her, carrying her to the porch before sitting down on one of the porch chairs, rocking her in his arms.
The brothers were filled in by their respective brides. Mace came up to Savina.
“What happened?” asked Mace.
“Their wedding dresses all got ruined by hot sauce,” said Savina. “They can’t be salvaged. They’re done-ion rings.”
“Is that all?” asked Mace.
“Mace, I might frikkin’ kill you for saying that,” hissed Savina. “The wedding dress is the most important thing in a bride’s wedding!”
“What’s so special about a wedding dress?” asked Mace.
Savina glared at Mace.
“No, seriously…what is so special about a wedding dress?” asked Mace. “The guys and I just got suits at some suit shop. What makes these wedding dresses so special?”
Savina was ready to sass out Mace…but when she tried to say something, nothing came out, because she had no good answer. She tried again. Nothing, nada, zilch. Was her sass machine busted, or…did Mace just ask a really good question? Savina smiled. Mace might’ve just solved the problem after all.
“Come on,” said Savina. She took Mace by the hand and led him up to the porch, where the girls were crying with their fiancés, who, like Mace, had no idea what the proper etiquette was when consoling a bride about the deep loss of her dress.
“Listen up, Quincy Sisters,” said Savina, clapping her hands. She had everyone’s attention.
“Mace just came up with a solution to our problem,” said Savina.
“He…he did?” asked Sage. “Mace, solution, wedding, does not compute.”
“Shut it,” said Savina. “Mace asked me ‘what’s so special about a wedding dress,’ and I couldn’t answer. Can you?”
The girls shrugged.
“It’s not explainable,” said Abigail.
“Because it’s bullshizz,” said Savina. “Listen. Those dresses were frikkin’ gorgeous. But we can get more dresses. We can get in our gosh dang cars right now, head to Dallas, and get some new dresses…or we can sit here crying. However, the Quincy Sisters I know wouldn’t do that. I don’t know if the Scoville billion heirs have made you soft with this luxurious lifestyle, but I know for a fact that the Scoville Polars are hunters, and right now, we Quincy Sisters have a hunt to go on. Leave the shotguns at home. I call shotgun, and we’re heading to frikkin’ Dallas to get some mama-frikkin’ wedding dresses. Everyone get cleaned up. We leave in an hour.”
“But…” started Basil.
“Shut it!” said Savina.
“But we have to pick up our wedding rings in Dallas anyway, so the guys should all go, too,” said Basil. “The jeweler told me this week they’d be ready for pickup. I’d rather pick them up than have them go in the mail.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” said Savina. “Sorry for telling you to shut up. I got a little rowdy.”
“Rowdy?” asked Basil. “Or…randy?” Basil looked to Savina’s hand.
Savina looked down. Was she still holding Mace’s frikkin hand? She dropped it. That was a yikes-a-roni.
“Desperate times, desperate measures,” said Savina. “All right. Guys, take one car, and somebody can take the SUV so we can have it washed at a car wash in Dallas. Any volunteers?”
“I can do it,” said Mace. “And I’ll clean it down right now so we can get it back faster. You all get ready. I can go as is.”
“All right, I’ll…I’ll help you,” said Savina. “I’ll just get changed before we leave.”
“So…are we excused?” asked Alice.
“Yes, you’re frikkin’ excused,” said Savina. “Ladies, bring what you gotta bring. I have no clue what you gotta do, but I do know one thing. By the end of today, the Scovilles will have the rings, and the Quincys will have our dresses. That’s a guarantee. Chop chop!” Savina clapped her hands and the siblings scattered.
Savina walked down the path with Mace.
“It was nice of you to give me credit,” said Mace. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wouldn’t have had that idea if it wasn’t for you,” said Savina. “Do you mind grabbing the case of sauce? It’s heavy.”
“Yeah, but I need you to get the lid to the dumpster,” said Mace. “Come on.”
Mace grabbed the case of sauce and Savina followed him to the dumpster. Mace tossed in the sauce, and she closed the lid before they headed back to the car to roll up their sleeves and clean it up with paper towels and the hose.
As Savina mopped the sauce up, Mace went to get the hose. He set it up and was trying to spray a spot next to Savina but accidentally hit her right in the butt!
Savina turned. Mace had turned off the water using the nozzle on the hose, but he was still looking at her, mouth down. Savina looked down. Her pajamas were nearly transparent now that Mace had splashed her with water. She put a hand on her hip.
“Save it for later,” said Savina. “And you obviously can’t handle that hose. Give it here.”
Savina took the hose from Mace and Mace went to scrub the car with towels…but Savina hit him right in the back with a jet of water!
“That was on purpose,” Savina said as Mace turned to look at her.
“Ha-ha,” said Mace before he walked up to Savina and took the hose from her. “At this rate…you’re going to get soaking wet.” He gave Savina a small squirt of water on the shoulder.
“Oh, heck no,” said Savina, grabbing it back.
“Herb…you might wanna see this,” said Alice, looking down from the bay window at her youngest sister and her fiancé’s youngest brother. They were fighting over the hose and weren’t yelling…they were laughing, smiling, goofing off and giggling.
Herb walked over from the bathroom where he’d been finishing up shaving. He looked down through the window.
“Huh,” said Herb. “I guess Grandpa Morten’s right.”
“Right about what?” asked Alice.
“I’ve said too much,” said Herb. “But…between you and me, I think that we might need to make room for a fifth couple at the wedding.”
“I have a feeling you know a lot more than you’re letting on,” said Alice.
Herb rubbed his temples.
“You know I can’t keep a secret from you,” said Herb. “All right. We’ll take my truck into Dallas and talk about it in the car.”
“You just want to drive your frikkin’ truck,” said Alice, a hand on her hip.
“You caught me,” said Herb, pulling Alice close for a kiss.
“And you…caught me,” said Alice, kissing Herb back.
The Quincy-Scoville Clan hit Dallas. The Quincy Sisters went to a high end bridal shop with a good selection of gowns and the Scoville Brothers were off to the jeweler’s to get the rings. Savina and Mace had been right. The dresses didn’t matter as much as the girls’ feelings did, and the girls just needed something to wear at the wedding. Of course, in glitzy Dallas, there were many luxury stores, and while Savina had driven, her sisters had found the perfect bridal shop with their phones. Everyone would meet up that evening to go back to the manor. Buying four wedding dresses in one afternoon was going to be hard but if anyone could do it, it was the Quincy Sisters.
The brida
l salon was well stocked and each of the sisters went in pursuit of dresses. With the help of some expert sales women, everyone found a dress that was somewhat like the dress they had had before. The only difference was, instead of ivory dresses, the sisters opted for a pretty pink blush, as they wanted to match and there weren’t enough ivory dresses to go around. They had to get some matching shoes, too, so they all opted for some plain and simple pink blush heels that were satin but wouldn’t be very visible under their ornate dresses. Savina’s maid of honor dress matched their wedding colors, so there was no need for her to get a new dress.
Cayenne went for a mermaid gown. The gown hugged her curves before flaring out at the bottom into a pleated skirt. The dress was lacy toward the bottom, and the bottom fishtail had layers of tulle that made it nice and puffy.
Addison opted for an empire waist gown that was simple but looked like something from a Jane Austen novel. Lace was overlain on the underbust of the empire waist, and the gown had rose gold rhinestones along the shoulder straps.
Abigail went for a romantic ruffled gown. It had a corset bodice on the top, but the corset covered most of her bust, leaving her shoulders naked. The ruffles were not overly flouncy and were made of a light fabric that made them more flowy than bouncy.
Alice, however, was not sure of what gown she wanted. She was between a satin A-line dress and a big ball gown.
“I can’t pick,” said Alice, looking at the mirror. “Savina…can I ask you a weird favor?”
“Anything,” said Savina.
“Can you try on the other gown? That way, we can compare the two dresses,” said Alice.
“Me?” asked Savina. “Are you sure I can pull it off?”
“Sure you can,” said Addison. “We’re all around the same height and size. Come on. It’ll be fun!”
“But I’m wearing sneakers,” said Savina, motioning to her shoes.
“Miss…we can get you some heels in your size if you’d like,” offered a salesgirl.
“Okay, okay, I’ll try it on,” said Savina. “You’re lucky I love you so dang much, Alice, but I’m not sure I’d agree to do this if I wasn’t the maid of honor!”
“Speaking of which, you better have a killer bachelorette party lined up,” said Abigail.
“Trust me, I’m gonna knock your socks off,” said Savina.
Savina walked with the salesgirl to the dressing room. Twenty minutes later, Savina was teetering down the floor toward the wedding dress podiums.
Savina stood on the last free podium, and when she saw herself, she couldn’t help but gasp.
She could barely recognize herself. Savina never wore this kind of clothing. The only thing that gave away the fact that she was indeed the woman in the mirror was the fact that the woman in the mirror shared the same shocked expression she knew was on her face. She waved a hand, and the figure in the mirror waved back. Savina couldn’t help but give a little, careful twirl.
Savina turned back to face the mirror. The dress had a ballroom style skirt that made her look like she was a cupcake topper. She looked as if she were one of those wedding cake toppers of a bride…but that drew into question who would be her groom. She couldn’t help but imagine a certain man with crimson red hair standing next to her. It would be a man with a tailored suit, who had given her a ring. His eyes would be as blue as the Norwegian sea. His palms would feel as they’d felt when she snatched the garden hose away from him. He’d be standing next to her, ready to…
It was silly. Savina dashed the thought from her head, or at least, she tried to. Why the heck had she just had a daydream about Mason frikkin’ Scoville as her fiancé, waiting for her at the end of an aisle, at the end of her story? There was no way that Savina would ever even get close to having that kind of relationship with Mace. No frikkin’ way. It had to be a mix of the hormones released by her sisters, along with the wedding junk in the store. Savina had never been the kind of girl to fantasize about a wedding. She had no thoughts on centerpieces, but right now, the centerpiece of her imagination was her and Mace, dancing under a spotlight for their first dance. Had she gotten food poisoning or caught the flu…or caught something even more dangerous: friendship and feelings?
“Do you like it?” asked Addison.
“I think it’s…” started Savina.
“I think it looks better on Savina than it could ever look on me,” said Alice with a naughty smile. “I’ll go with the A-line dress. I like the satin a lot. Do you happen to have blush shoes in a flat style that would match our shoes?”
“We do. Would you like a pair for your sister?” asked a salesgirl.
“However did you guess?” teased Alice. “Yes, please. No offense, Savina, but I think you have enough on your plate without having to worry about learning to walk in heels.”
“Enough on my plate?” asked Savina, stepping down from the podium.
“You know, with the hot sauce competition and all?” asked Alice. “Or did you already forget?”
“No, I didn’t forget,” said Savina crossly. “I’m gonna win that thing. You’ll see, Alice. My sauce will beat everyone else’s!”
“Uh-huh, sure it will, kid sis,” said Cayenne. “Let’s get out of these dresses and get home. I look frikkin’ gorgeous…but my dogs are barking, my stomach is growling, and there’s a competitor in Dallas whose restaurant I have a love-hate relationship with. I love the food, hate that we’re not the ones making it.”
The Quincy Sisters got changed out of their wedding clothes and left with a car full of shoe boxes and garment bags loaded into the car by the salesgirls. Through dinner and the drive back to Fallowedirt, Savina couldn’t get that disturbing thought out of her head. The only thing worse that the fantasy that she’d had, wearing that silly fairytale wedding dress, was the fact that the fantasy didn’t feel wrong. It felt right, too right, but there was no way that Savina could ever, ever pursue that fantasy. She didn’t even want to, but…well, Savina had her reasons not to pursue something with Mason.
Chapter Forty-Eight
That Wednesday, Savina got up, got changed into her uniform (jeans and a shirt with The Feminine Mesquite’s logo on it), and pulled on her red hoodie. She got breakfast and got in the car with Mace, who took the driver’s seat, but when they hit Main Street, they didn’t stop.
“Uh, you missed our stop,” said Savina.
“No, I didn’t,” said Mace with a wicked grin. “We don’t have work today.”
“We don’t?” asked Savina, folding her arms.
“I told Herb we needed to take a personal day,” said Mace. “Remember that promise I made you? About the peppers?”
“No way,” said Savina. “You found someone who sells them, in Texas?”
“Well, so, that’s the thing,” said Mace. “We’re going to have to do something pretty frikkin’ crazy today.”
“You’re hijacking another plane?” asked Savina.
“Close,” said Mace. “Don’t worry about it, Sav. You’ll see when we get to our first stop.”
“Our ‘first’ stop?” asked Savina. “Why do I feel like we’re going to get in a buttload of trouble?”
“Oh, we are,” said Mace. “They don’t call me a bad boy for nothing.”
Mason kept driving the car through Bright Star County until they reached the tiny Bright Star County Airport. The airport was used for small local flights, so usually, the Scoville plane flew in and out of Dallas instead. All that was on the tarmac was a helicopter.
“Okay, what the heck is going on?” asked Savina.
“No time to explain,” said Mason. “We’re not making good time as it is.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” said Savina. “You don’t expect me to believe that you’re gonna fly that chopper, now do you?”
“That I do,” said Mason. He closed the door to his side of the car and opened Savina’s side.
“I’m not getting out of this car,” said Savina.
“You can walk, or I can carry you,” said Mason.
“Then you’re going to have to carry me,” said Savina, narrowing her eyes.
“Whatever you want, honey,” said Mason. He undid Savina’s seat belt and lifted her up in his arms, shutting his door with his free hand and pressing the lock button on the car remote before walking with Savina in his arms to the helicopter.
Savina was shocked. She hadn’t actually expected Mason to lift her up and carry her. He was carrying her like she was nothing more than a bag of apples! She had curves and the natural heft that came with them, but Mason was cradling her as easily as she could’ve cradled a baby. His chest was firm, warm, and that surprised her. Then she remembered that polars and other big shifts ran hot, real hot.
Had Mason just called her ‘honey,’ or had her ears deceived her? What the heck was that supposed to mean? Was it a slip of the tongue? Was it a reference to the time she’d accidentally called him ‘sugar’? And why did he have a way of calling her ‘honey’ like he meant it, like it was her name?
“Hello, Mr. Scoville,” said a grizzled man with white hair and a flannel shirt. “Mr. Asher sends his regards.”
“Hey, Pete! Tell Lance I say hi,” said Mason.
“Now…you aren’t planning on doing any human trafficking, are you?” asked Pete nervously. “You know Mr. Asher wouldn’t approve of that, what with what happened to his wife, Zelda.”
“I’m not human trafficking,” said Mason. “She just refused to get out of the car.”
“Now, miss, is this man, uh…trafficking you?” asked Pete.
“No, I’m just making things difficult for him,” said Savina. “Let me down, Mace.”
Mason put Savina down. Savina brushed herself off.
“Savina, Savina Quincy,” said Savina, extending her hand.
“Peter Charleston,” said the grizzled man, shaking her hand. “I work for one of Mr. Scoville’s friends, Mr. Lance Asher.”
“Can’t say I recognize the name,” said Savina.
“I’ll explain in the chopper,” said Mason. “You ever flown in one of these before?”
“No, is there something I gotta know?” asked Savina.
