How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

“Rehearsal dinner’s tomorrow, wedding reception the day after. Why am I getting so many weddings during the week now, when everything is such a mess? My teen helpers will be out of school in time to help some, but I’m still short a very important hand in Del. I even have that wagon wheel prop over there she only got started.” She pointed with a shaky hand.

“Oh, Colin, how will I do this alone?”





Enormous relief settled inside Colin. She was letting herself lean on him. Big step. Big, big. “You won’t do this alone. I’ll help.”

She blinked. “You said yourself you can’t cook. Del’s my only trained chef.”

“Hey, I peel a pretty awesome apple.”

“Colin, no offense, but . . .”

“I can handle it. Besides, you don’t have time to argue with me about this. Del needs you.” Not seeing her coat anywhere, he draped his jacket around her shoulders and ushered her out the door. He always had a spare coat in his truck.

“Thank you,” she said after a few blocks. “I realize you don’t have to do all this.”

“I feel honored to. We’re neighbors.” And he hoped, soon, friends.

“I can’t help but think you’re doing this because you still feel sorry for me.”

She probably assumed that because of what he’d said about the root of his relationship with his ex-fiancée. Colin only semi-regretted sharing, but was his care forged of guilt? He’d been duped by his motives before.

“I have no basis for feeling sorry for you, Meadow. You underestimate your value. You’re worthy of respect. Not pity. I do feel sorry . . . but not for you. I feel sorry about you—and for me—that I couldn’t see how damaging my actions, inactions, and immaturity were to you back then.”

She grew so quiet he couldn’t begin to read how she took that. He knew better than to ask. She had a lot to be anxious about at the moment, and he didn’t want to add to it.

“What’s going on with Del?”

“Gallstones led to serious pancreatitis and infected many of her organs.”

“Vital ones?”

“Yes. Fluid collected as a cyst in her pancreas to a point it ruptured, causing internal bleeding. She developed low oxygen from lung damage caused by the chemical changes. Her kidneys are beginning to fail and her blood sugar is out of control.”

“Can it all be fixed?” He accelerated to get there faster.

“Only with surgery, intensive post-op care, lengthy recovery, and, according to her doctor, prayer.”

The gravity of Del’s situation set in. He asked about Del’s military service and anything else he could think of to keep Meadow from worrying over her dear friend’s fate.

After pulling into a hospital parking stall, he grabbed Meadow’s hand. “Father, we place Del in your hands. Guide the surgeons, keep her safe. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

He slid from the truck, amused at the shock he’d glimpsed freezing Meadow’s face.

“What?” he said. The shock was still there when he met her on the passenger side.

“You just . . . I think you just prayed.”

“That’s what people of faith do.” He smiled kindly and nudged her shoulder with his. “You should know, Miss Pepper-Your-Walls-with-Scripture.”

“You noticed?”

“I noticed.” But truth plastered to her walls was of no help if she didn’t grant him access to bring down the walls inside her. They quickly navigated halls to the elevator.

“That’s what’s different about you,” she murmured as they exited the elevator to the surgery waiting room. His chest expanded at the wonderment in her tone.

“When did you become a Christian, Colin?”

“In the military. A chaplain led me to the Lord.”

She looked interested to hear more, but a nurse intercepted them. “Here for Del?”

“Yes. Can we see her?” Meadow looked close to tears.

Colin ached to comfort her.

“She just went to the OR. Doc will be with you soon as surgery’s over.”

“How long will that be?” Meadow clutched her purse to her middle.

Colin put a hand to her back in case the answer upset her.

The nurse flipped through papers. “At least three hours.”

Meadow’s face paled. That she didn’t protest his comfort proved she was reeling and feeling pressure and fear over Del, plus a wedding rehearsal the next day followed by a wedding reception that she was many hours away from being prepared for. Del took priority, but Meadow needed to meet her catering obligations to her Tex-Mex bride and groom and keep the teens’ paychecks coming too.

The emotional struggle played out over her expressive face. He needed to find a way to help her and keep her contracts from jeopardy. He gently steered her to a quiet corner sofa. She sat like a statue. He sat on a chair across from her. Leaned in. “Is there someone I can call?”

She blinked. “Who? There’s no one.”

“Flora, maybe?”

She shook her head. “She’s stressed about her wedding and readying her apartment for our siblings, arriving soon. They’re staying for a few weeks. They were going to be at my house, but . . .”

“Would you like me to wait here with you? Or I could go back to my place with a list from you as to what I can do to save you some time. How best can I help you, Meadow?”

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