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My adrenaline pumping, I yelped.
“Wait here, under the overhang. I’ll get the garbage can.” He dashed into the rain.
The air sizzled, and another bolt of lightning struck where he had stood.
His hackles rising, Teddy howled.
“Luke?” My heart pounded as I shouted into the storm.
The air hissed and crackled. Static electricity made my hair stand on end. A third bolt of lightning crashed beside the portico, forcing me back.
“Luke, are you all right?” The sky blazed with forked lightning while the rain hammered sideways, soaking me. The thunder deafening, my ears rang as I shouted into the darkness. “Luke?”
The rain sheeted off him as he sloshed the metal can through the mud. Another thunderbolt clapped and, on its heels, another just as he reached the overhang. He lifted the metal lid. “Go for it.”
I lit a match, and the wind blew it out. I lit a second, cupping my hand around the flame to protect it.
Thunder bellowed, while lightning floodlit the sky.
I tossed the match into the garbage can’s dry interior.
As the flames caught, took hold, and began engulfing the tulle, the wind howled like a wounded animal.
Thick, black smoke forced me back, choking me. But as the blaze ran out of fuel, the flames flickered, sputtered, and finally expired.
The embers dying, the wind stopped, and the rain dwindled to a drizzle.
I tucked my arm around Luke’s waist, hooking my thumb in his jeans’ belt loop. “Think this will free us of Valentina?”
****
The next morning, I pointed to a break in the clouds. “Look, a patch of blue.”
“The first I’ve seen in days. Maybe you were right about the veil.” His smile tender, he pulled me close. “Sorry I’ve been so detached the past few days. Now, what wedding plans did you want to discuss?”
I drew back my head, studying him. “You’re sure you want to discuss wedding plans?”
“Absolutely, and you’ll be happy to hear I’ve sent the invitations.”
“You did?” I breathed a sigh of relief, mentally checking it off our to-do list. “What about the wedding arch?”
“What do you think I was doing yesterday in the shed?”
“Really?” Why did I ever question his love? I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you!”
“It’s almost done—except for the post brackets I ordered, which are scheduled to be delivered this morning.”
Luke’s cell phone buzzed.
“Scratch that”—he scanned the message—“which just were delivered. How’s that for timing?” He reached for my hand. “Let’s check the mailbox.”
Our arms swinging between us like kids, I nearly skipped down the driveway.
But when he opened the box, his face fell.
“What’s wrong?”
Fingering the small package, he sighed. “They sent the wrong-sized brackets.”
