Daughters Of The Bride(134)

Kelly was pale. “Oh, I think that’s the least of their problems.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The bees. The ones that have been at the Anderson House? The Drunken Red-nosed Honeybees?”

“Yes, what about them?”

“They’re here. I mean they’re everywhere. I think maybe it’s the flowers we set up for your mom’s wedding. Those weird ones Joyce suggested. Or maybe the cherry blossoms. I don’t know. But there are bees.”

Courtney dressed in record time. She didn’t bother to do more than brush her teeth and grab an elastic to hold her hair back. Then she and Kelly took the stairs to the main floor.

Before they even got to the glass doors leading outside, she could hear it. A low humming sound, like millions of tiny wings. It was a sound out of one of her mother’s favorite old movies. The Naked Jungle. Of course, there the problem had been ants rather than bees, but the result was the same. Disaster and devastation.

Courtney hurried outside to where the staff were setting up for her mom’s wedding. There were bees everywhere. On the tent, on the chairs, but mostly on the beautiful pots of flowers. Several flew by. They ignored the humans and went on their merry bee way. There were hundreds of them. No, thousands. Thousands and thousands of bees right where the wedding was supposed to be.

“We can’t have the wedding out here,” she breathed. “We’re going to have to move it inside. In less than ten hours.”

Could they do it? Fit in that many people? Dinner was a sit-down service rather than a buffet, which required more room. Plus, they’d planned on having two tents, one for the ceremony and one for the reception. But there was only one ballroom, and it couldn’t hold both the ceremony and the reception. It wasn’t big enough.

Her phone buzzed. She reached for it without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Courtney. It’s Jill Strathern-Kendrick. I’m sorry to bother you.”

It took Courtney a second to put the name with the face. Or in her case, purpose.

“No,” she said faintly. “No, no, no.”

“I’m so sorry. My water just broke. I can’t believe it. I was late last time. We’re going to the hospital. I won’t be able to perform the ceremony.”

A man’s voice in the background urged Jill to hurry.

“It’s fine,” Courtney said automatically. “Go have your baby. It’s fine.”

She hung up. Kelly stared at her. “The judge?”

“Her water broke.”

“Do you have a backup person who can perform the ceremony?”

“Of course.” Courtney scrolled through her contacts until she found the minister in Sacramento who’d agreed to fill in. She dialed.

“Hello?”

The voice was sleepy. Courtney winced when she realized it was still early. “I’m sorry Reverend Milton. The time. I wasn’t thinking. This is Courtney Watson. I’m calling to say I’m going to need you for my mom’s wedding after all.”

There was a moment of silence, then the reverend cleared her throat. “Courtney. This is unexpected. When I didn’t hear from you, I assumed you didn’t need me. I apologize and don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m in Mexico for a few days. A last-minute vacation with my husband.”

“M-Mexico?” No. No! Courtney closed her eyes. “Okay. Thanks. Have a good time.” She hung up and looked at her friend. “My backup minister is in Mexico.”

“Oh, no,” Kelly breathed. “What are you going to do?”

There was a question. What was she going to do?

“Ceremony and reception first, officiant later.”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Somewhere around ten, Courtney stopped to breathe and drink water. Two local bee people had carefully moved all the flowers to the far end of the property. Most of the bees had followed, although enough remained by the hotel to confirm that, yes, the wedding really did have to move inside.

She’d worked the seating chart to fit everyone in the ballroom for the reception, had come up with what she thought was a brilliant solution for where to hold the ceremony, and with a little luck, she was all done with disasters for today.

There was still the problem of who was going to perform the actual wedding, she thought, but there might be an answer to that, as well.

She finished her water, wishing it were tequila instead, then walked around to the bungalow that stood by itself. Quinn’s bungalow. She’d already checked that his Bentley was in the parking lot, so she knew he was home. What she didn’t know was what he was going to say.