Wolfe tried to smile. Crazy was a bit of an understatement considering the way he’d seen her act down there. “Thanks. Good to know.” He stared up at the reverend, who was getting ready to begin the ceremony. “But she still wants to marry me, right?”
He looked surprised by the question. “Wolfe, of course she does. You must believe that.”
Wolfe nodded, but then had to decide exactly what he believed. Because inside his soul there were many theories vying for the top slot.
The wedding music began, and he settled into his chair. Oliver came out, proud as could be in his tuxedo. He gave quick smiles to those he managed to make eye contact with in the audience, and then he looked down the aisle, waiting for his beautiful bride-to-be.
With a small transition, the music changed to the wedding march, and the back doors opened. There Melb stood, in a beautiful, though very puffy, gown, smiling with the radiance of someone completely loved.
She walked down the aisle with that kind of confidence. And in fact, Wolfe had never seen her look so confident. Her curly hair was pinned up under her headband-veil, and she smiled at everyone she saw, then at Oliver, who had never stopped smiling.
Wolfe tried not to think about the other wedding that might not take place.
“My dear, you are sweating!” the makeup lady said, aghast.
Ainsley shot her a look. “People don’t sweat in the big city?”
She smiled tolerantly. “It’s just that we can’t have shine. On camera, a little perspiration on your forehead can look like a frying pan waiting for an egg. Come, dear.”
Ainsley sighed, flustered beyond belief. It was hard being this hateful and moody. It cut directly against the grain of who she was. And it seemed to be backfiring. She thought she’d be such a monster nobody would want to work with her. But instead, she seemed to become everyone’s hero.
“Ainsley!” Alfred stood in front of her as she was being powdered.
“What?” she said, bringing herself back into reality.
“We’ve got about ten more minutes, and we’ve got to cover the main dishes.”
“She’s sweating like a pig,” the makeup lady growled. “Give me a second.”
A splintering pain shot through Ainsley’s head and she rubbed her temples. Martha made this all look so easy.
Reverend Peck turned to the audience and said, “And now, my friends, these two will say their vows to each other. They wrote their own, which I always think is so precious. Oliver, we will begin with you.”
With a shaking hand, Oliver smiled and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. He stared Melb in the eyes, as if there were nobody else in the room. Then he looked down at his paper. “My beautiful Melb, whom I had admired from a distance for so long, and who is now going to be my extraordinary wife—I love you. I will always love you. Our love is based on truth and honesty, commitment, loyalty, friendship, and most of all, on Jesus Christ. My dear and lovely Melb, you are my most prized treasure, and I will never stop loving you.”
Oliver folded up his paper as a collective “Awwww” came from the crowd. Melb was moved to tears.
Reverend Peck said, “Beautiful, Oliver. Melb, go ahead.”
Melb was shaking worse than Oliver, and was wiping her tears and looking extremely nervous. Wolfe imagined Melb had not had much opportunity to speak in public. She opened up the piece of paper in her hand, looked at it for a long moment, making the crowd slightly uncomfortable.
“Melb, go right ahead,” the reverend said again, giving her a reassuring nod.
“O-okay. I’m sorry. I’m … I’m just a bit nervous.”
“Understandable,” the reverend said, glancing at Oliver, who had plastered his smile on by now.
“Okay. Here I go.” Her voice was shaky. “Oliver, you are the light of my life. You have brought such joy and meaning to my life. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be with you.” Melb was reading her words like an eight-year-old doing a book report. Wolfe winced a little. He hoped Melb wasn’t going to go on too long like this. “And I’m just so thankful that you love me and … and … and …”
The crowd moved to the edge of their seats. Melb seemed to be stuck like a broken record.
“Yes?” Oliver finally said.
A large sigh escaped from Melb and she threw down the piece of paper in her hand quite dramatically, causing a gasp from the audience.
“Oliver,” she said, squeezing his hands, “I wrote down some words, and they are true, and I mean everything I was going to say. But … but …”
“But?” Oliver asked.
“Here’s the thing. This wedding is the most exciting thing ever to happen to me in my whole life. When I found out you loved me, my whole life changed. And it’s good to know that you will never stop loving me, because I have to confess a few things.”
Oliver’s Adam’s apple popped up his throat and slowly sank back down.
“Here’s the deal. I spent way more money on this dress than I was supposed to. And then I lied to you about that, because I knew you were a stickler for budgets. But I wanted the dress, and so I bought it, without even trying it on. So that’s when I decided to go into therapy to try to lose weight, which worked, because as you can see, I’m very skinny now.”
Oliver’s mouth was hanging open.
“And I wish I could say the deception ended there, but it didn’t. Things just kept getting worse, because I was blowing the whole wedding budget on a shrink, who ended up not being a shrink at all. But then I didn’t have enough money for a caterer or to get my hair and nails done, or pretty much anything you’d given me a budget for.”
Oliver was still catching flies with his mouth.
“Oh, and then I accidentally spelled your name wrong on the invitations, so I had to reorder those. But don’t worry, I’ve been practicing, so I’ve got that down now.”
Oliver was speechless.
“So anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that I’ve been horrible. Just horrible. But then this amazing thing happened, and I was offered the chance to have my wedding reception done by a television show with some celebrity caterer, and so what I’m trying to tell you here is that everything worked out. Unbelievably, it worked out. Downstairs there is a glorious wedding reception waiting on us, and if you’ll still have me as your wife, I want to go downstairs and celebrate our love together. There will be a few cameras and things, but we’ll just ignore that, okay?”
Oliver glanced out at the audience, who was equally shocked. Wolfe was sure nobody in that room had ever heard vows like that before. Oliver managed to close his mouth and pull himself together. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Melb, I just have one question for you.”
“Yes?”
“Do you love me?”
Melb smiled. “Yes, Oliver. I love you more than anyone else in the world.”
Oliver nodded, and then took her hands. “Then yes, I’ll still have you as my wife.”
Melb grinned, and Reverend Peck looked more relieved than he had in his whole life.
Melb said, “Oh, thank goodness.”
Reverend Peck said, “Yes. Thank goodness. Okay, shall we continue?”
“Not quite yet,” Melb said, and the room was stunned into silence again.
Oliver cleared his throat. “Um, Melb … what … what are you doing?”
Melb lowered her voice as if no one else could overhear. “Speaking of the treasure you’d mentioned before, me being the treasure, I think is how you put it, I have a bit more news for you.”
Oliver looked like he couldn’t take a bit more news.
“You see, my love,” Melb said with a dramatic flare, “I have found a treasure.”
In nearly a whisper, Oliver said, “Me?”
“Well, yes, you too, of course, but I’m talking about a true-life, Pirates of the Caribbean treasure.”
A mutter swept through the room, and the reverend held out his hands to hush everyone.
“What are you talking abou
t?” Oliver asked.
“I was out owling one night and fell into a hole with a buried treasure. It’s a safe with a whole bunch of money in it, though I haven’t actually been able to get it open because there’s this heavy-duty lock on it. But anyway, I kept it to myself for the longest time, because I was afraid it might belong to somebody, but nobody had mentioned losing a treasure, and you know how fast news travels around this town.” Melb looked as though she was about to cry with joy. “Oliver, we’re going to be rich! Can you believe it? Rich!”
Oliver’s face contorted with multiple emotions. Though he was trying to smile, his eyebrows drew together with worry. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
Then Reverend Peck said, “Well, let’s get you two married before anything else jumps out and surprises us.” He laughed nervously.
Wolfe’s gaze found Martin across the room, who in turn was looking at him with intense eyes. Wolfe nodded, trying not to leap from his seat.
CHAPTER 37
MARTIN’S HAND SHOOK as he wiggled Melb’s front doorknob. Wolfe was trying not to pressure him, just wondering why he wasn’t using the key Melb had given Wolfe before the wedding, so he could feed her birds while she was gone on the honeymoon.
Martin glanced at him. “It’s just that the last time I broke into somebody’s house, the door was open, so I didn’t technically break in. I guess I’m getting good at this sort of business.” A nervous laugh followed.
“Is it technically breaking in when you’ve got the key?” Wolfe tucked his hands into his jacket, trying to keep warm while Martin wrestled with his conscience.
“I guess that’s a good way to look at it,” Martin said. He took the key from his own pocket and inserted it into the lock. After a gentle click, the door popped open. They glanced at each other.
“Now what?” Martin whispered.
“Nobody’s home, so you don’t have to whisper.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought when I broke into Miss Peeple’s home.”
Wolfe urged him in and shut the door behind him. He turned on a single lamp in the living room. Melb’s parakeets chattered in the corner of the room. Martin seemed frozen by the door.
“Well, let’s start looking for it,” Wolfe said.
But Martin didn’t move.
“What’s the matter?”
Martin paused, looking down. “What if we’re disappointed?” He looked up at Wolfe. “What if it won’t save the town?”
Wolfe walked over to Martin and put his hand on his shoulder. “We won’t know until we open that box.”
Martin nodded reluctantly. “What will be will be.”
In the midst of a crowded room, with cameras in her face, people yelling directions at her, and friends mingling nearby, Ainsley Parker remained completely poised. Flawlessly, she’d done every take with energy, grace, and intelligence. Even Dolph, who’d seemed nearly unemotional, was now showering her with one compliment after another.
The highlight of the evening came when Alfred opened the doors and allowed Melb in. Ainsley watched as Melb screamed with excitement and Oliver grinned from ear to ear. She could see how pleased they both were. The cameras were equally pleased, eating up the perfect scene before them. Then Alfred introduced Ainsley as their “celebrity” caterer, and Melb just broke down, hugged her, cried, and hugged her some more. “Ainsley, this is the most beautiful, perfect thing I have ever seen. I feel like I’ve walked into a castle, and I’m a princess.”
“You are a princess, and this is your evening. Enjoy everything about it.”
And then it was back to work, explaining the salmon recipe as if she’d just made seventy plates herself.
“Here!” Wolfe heard Martin cry. “In here!”
He rushed through the house toward the hallway. He ran into Melb’s bedroom and found Martin in the closet.
Martin turned to him. “I found it,” he breathed.
Wolfe stepped forward, and there, underneath a pile of clothes, was a small silver safe with a padlock on it.
“It’s not too heavy,” Martin said, pulling it forward, out of the closet. The men knelt on either side of it.
Wolfe took the chain from around his neck and held the key in his hand, looking at Martin, who urged him with watchful eyes.
After two tries of getting the key into the hole, Wolfe finally did it and clicked the lock open easily. He pulled the lock off and took a deep breath. “Here we go.”
Opening it up, both men peered in. Grabbing for the contents at the same time, their knuckles crashed into each other. They both yelped.
“I’m sorry,” Wolfe said. “Go ahead.”
Martin shook his head. “No, I want you to.”
He carefully stuck his hand in and pulled out what looked like a diary. And then another diary. Four of them. The men looked at each other.
“Journals,” Wolfe said, handing two to Martin.
“Whose?” Martin wondered. Then he said, “Look! On the front of each of them!”
In faded handwriting, on the front of each journal, were neatly printed, Safely Keep And Restore You.
Wolfe could hardly believe it. “Safely Keep And Restore You! SKARY. It’s an acronym!”
Both men flipped open the journals and began reading.
Ainsley’s knees felt so weak she thought she was going to have to sit down. But she didn’t ever have a chance, for she moved from one place to the next, the cameras always on her, the lights bright and stunning her senses.
But she felt weary.
And she couldn’t help but notice Wolfe was nowhere to be seen. Had he left?
She told Alfred she needed a few minutes to recuperate, and though he obviously didn’t like the idea, he managed to smile and step out of her way. She moved to a quiet corner and sipped a glass of water, while the cameraman and director were taking an interest in Mayor Wullisworth and his Bermuda shorts.
She shook her head, trying to make sense of Wolfe. On one hand, he professed his love for her and said he supported her. But why wasn’t he here, at her big moment? She put a finger below her lashes to catch the tears, hoping she wouldn’t smear the fancy makeup job.
“Wolfe, where are you?” she whispered. She felt he was so far away from her heart. His words rang in her ears, but she needed him by her side.
“Ainsley!” she heard Alfred shout over the crowd noise. “Let’s go! We need your commentary on the table designs! And Melb and Oliver are getting ready to cut the cake!”
Ainsley closed her eyes and prayed to God for peace in her soul.
“This is unbelievable,” Wolfe said, after several minutes of silence. Martin glanced up, nodding with wide eyes.
“What’s in yours?” Martin asked.
“This looks like the entire story of how Skary came into existence.”
“What does it say?”
“Apparently Skary was created as a safe haven for moral rejects of society. It was created by three pastors, who built those shacks up in the hills. They would take in prostitutes, bootleggers, those accused of being witches, and give them food and water and protect them from being executed. That’s what I’m getting from all this, anyway. The handwriting is a little hard to read.”
Martin said, “I know who wrote these.”
“Says Clara here.”
“Yes. Clara is Miss Peeple’s grandmother. And according to this, a prostitute who was saved by these pastors. She had a daughter by one of the men who paid her for her services. That’s when she was taken in by these pastors, because she wanted to save her child, and the authorities had found out she was a prostitute. She ran for the hills. Literally.”
After a moment’s thought, Wolfe said, “Which means Miss Peeple’s mother was that child.”
Martin nodded, gazing at the pages in front of him. “That’s why she didn’t want anybody to know the town’s history. Because we would’ve found out her grandmother was a prostitute.”
“But it also explains why she has
fought so hard to keep this town alive, using any means possible. It is this very town that saved her mother’s life.”
Martin thumbed through the pages, awe in his eyes. “This is how our town came into being, Wolfe. By saving misfits and rejects.”
Wolfe smiled. “And I guess it’s still doing that today.”
Garth Twyne stared through the community center basement windows, watching the festivities. He’d been invited, but he hadn’t felt like going. It was just a reminder that Ainsley’s wedding was soon to follow. He wasn’t sure what all the hubbub was about, but there were lights and cameras everywhere. He found Ainsley and watched her, sadness in his heart. He had tried to fall in love with Ginger, but there just wasn’t a spark there. He had always loved Ainsley’s poise.
He did have things to be thankful for, he supposed. He was no longer accused of cloning people, so that was a plus.
He decided to go home and order a pizza. But behind him, he heard a noise in the brush. His first instinct was to run like crazy, but after a moment, he realized it sounded like an animal caught up in something.
He cleared the brush and, to his surprise, found the owl that had been hooting for the past few weeks around these parts.
“Hey,” he said, gently pulling back the brush. “It’s okay.” He could tell that it had a broken wing. “Shsshhh. It’ll be okay.”
The poor owl was thrashing nervously. He ran to his truck and got out a pair of gloves and a blanket. When he returned, the owl seemed to have lost strength and stared up at him with helpless eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”
Wolfe and Martin had been reading entries in the journals for an hour or so. Wolfe rubbed his eyes and laid down the journal in his hands. “This is a lot to take in,” he said. Martin nodded, still into whatever he was reading. “The last thing I read explained how they would go out and help these people.”
Martin looked up.