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MARIGOLD
The day of my wedding dawned clear and crisp after days of spring rain. A few puffy clouds lingered in the sky and the air smelled fresh. It was absolute perfection.
Zachary had wanted to get married as soon as possible, while also letting me have my dream of a beautiful wedding. We’d decided to wait until spring so we wouldn’t be stealing Audrey and Josiah’s thunder for their January wedding and I’d have enough time to plan our day.
Now it was finally here. I could hardly believe it.
Audrey and Josiah’s wedding had been amazing. She’d been a vision in white, and Josiah cleaned up well. People were still talking about how much fun their reception had been. Especially because it had culminated in a moonlit snowball fight outside.
As I’d gone through the familiar steps to plan my own wedding—consulting all the ideas I’d saved, pictures I’d cut out, plans I’d made— I’d realized something. It wasn’t the colors or the flowers or the dress that really mattered. Those things were nice, and I enjoyed every minute of planning for them. But what I actually wanted, more than the perfect day, was to become Zachary’s wife.
That took a lot of the pressure off the details.
So when the centerpieces weren’t quite right and Audrey’s bridesmaid dress had been hemmed too long and the cake was late and I didn’t know if it would arrive, I let it all go.
Because I was becoming Mrs. Zachary Haven.
We were at Salishan Cellars Winery, my favorite wedding venue, surrounded by dusty blue and blush with gold decorations—understated, soft, and romantic. Annika, my matron of honor and oldest friend, looked lovely in her blue dress, as did the rest of my bridesmaids—Isabelle, Audrey, and Brielle.
Zachary’s brothers rounded out our wedding party. He’d asked Garrett to be his best man, which had kind of surprised me. They hadn’t always gotten along. Apparently the rescue down in Pasco had helped them bond. They certainly seemed to understand each other better.
Before I knew it, I was standing at the back of the room in my wedding gown, holding a bouquet, ready to take my dad’s arm. My dress was elegant, with a v-neckline and lace at the shoulders, a wide a-line skirt, and a train. Brielle had done my hair in a sweeping updo with romantic tendrils around my face, and my white veil fastened with a pearl clip.
Dad turned to me with tears in his eyes. He was so handsome in his black tux. “Oh, flower. Look at you.”
I smiled, hoping I wouldn’t cry. Yet. “Thanks, Dad.”
“A father looks forward to and dreads his daughter’s wedding day. But I couldn’t be happier for you.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
Zoe Miles, the head of events at Salishan, motioned me and Dad forward. As the wedding party started walking up the aisle in pairs, my stomach fluttered with excitement and anticipation.
“Ready?” Zoe whispered. She made a quick adjustment to my veil.
“Ready.”
Dad and I stepped into the doorway and our guests stood.
It was happening.
There was probably music. I didn’t hear it. There were probably smiles and maybe a few tears as Dad walked me up the aisle. I didn’t see them. All that existed was Zachary Haven, waiting for me at the front in his tux, ready to make me his wife.
He grinned as I approached, and that smile nearly undid me. I fought back happy tears and smiled right back.
The ceremony went by in a blur. I gazed at Zachary as we said our vows, pledging our hearts and lives to each other, until death do us part. We exchanged rings, and as the officiant pronounced us man and wife, the tears came.
Zachary pulled me against him, and with his signature mischievous grin, took my mouth in a kiss.
It wasn’t exactly a wedding kiss, but I didn’t care. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
He was mine. My husband. My dream.
It was the best moment of my life.
We walked down the aisle, hand in hand, to cheers, whistles, and applause. Zachary stopped at the end, turned around, and pumped his fist in the air. I laughed, positively giddy. It felt like I was floating on a cloud of marital bliss.
The reception began with hugs, greetings, congratulations, and champagne. I had a feeling my face was going to hurt from smiling so much. But I didn’t mind. I couldn’t have stopped if I’d tried.
As we wandered and chatted with guests, Zachary fed me hors d’oeuvres. Which was good because he also made sure my champagne was always full. Eventually, we took our seats at our table and dinner was served.
