6 The Wedding Read Online Free PDF

sit for a bit while I regain
control of myself.”
    The shaking eventually subsided. The Mountie pushed off the
ground and teetered to his feet. Anatoli held on to his arm to steady him until
he stood upright. At a nod of the head from Chuck, Anatoli released the arm and
Chuck remained standing rock solid.
    “What now?” Anatoli asked.
    “We keep on going,” Chuck replied.
    The men continued down the street, stopping off to check the
other cabins to either side of the road along the way. They found nothing else
of interest in town, only the aftermath of old Woody’s earlier rampage. During
their winding course to the church they managed to set off three more booby
traps. Each was much like the first, with the exception of the last trap which
actually was tied to a tiny explosive charge. By the time the men stood before
the double doors of the old church at the end of town, their nerves were spent.
    “I do not know how much more I want to take. This smells of
insanity,” Anatoli said as they considered the building.
    The Mountie could see that there was light coming from
inside. The light was pouring through the wide seams around each door. The
light presented itself as an orange glow, as if the church might be on fire. Then
the Mountie heard a voice. A single man was speaking, or rather orating, as if
before an enraptured audience. The Mountie grabbed the handle of one door,
Anatoli the other. At a silent signal between them, they threw the doors wide
and stepped into the church with their rifles at the ready.
    “… besides , the Mounties are never
going to come,” a man dressed in dusty bib overalls and standing behind a
simple altar declared.
    “Royal Canadian Mounted Police, Inspector Chuck Goodhead,”
Chuck declared in his most authoritative tone. “Everyone remain seated and don’t move.”
    Of course, all the people moved, spinning in their pews to
see who it was. Half the people jumped from their seats. Fully half of those
now standing were armed. Fortunately, the Mountie’s initial words and bright
red parka with sleeve insignia saved everyone from what could have easily
become a bloodbath.
    “Who are you people?” Chuck asked, releasing the trigger on
his rifle and pointing the barrel toward the ceiling.
    “The citizens of Soda Springs,” answered the man behind the
altar. “Who are you?”
    By this time, half the firearms in the room had been either
pointed away in a harmless direction or reholstered.
    “I’m Chuck Goodhead, RCMP,” he repeated. This prompted the
other half of the firearms to be dealt with safely. “What are you doing in
here?”
    “Deciding what to do with the madman we have tied up at the
other end of town. What are you doing here?”
    “I’m here looking to subdue and arrest Mr. Woody Sykes.”
    “It’s about time!” someone declared from the congregation of
about thirty.
    “Who do you think we have tied up at the other end of town,
eh?” demanded the man in bib overalls.
    The Mountie and Anatoli exchanged thoughtful glances. In
unison they reached behind their backs and each pushed open a door to the
church. They looked down the street toward the other end of town. There was a
man dressed only in long johns dancing in the middle of the dirt track. He was
holding up his clothes in one fist and a whisky bottle in the other. He was
cackling at them and screaming obscene oaths. As they watched, the old man
danced off into the woods, never to be seen again by humankind.

 
    *   *   *

 
    I worked all morning on my dress and was relieved when the
Flowers arrived, giving me an excuse to put it away. I learned to sew out of
self-defense, but I sure didn’t enjoy it.
    “How’s Ricky?” I asked, getting up to make tea.
    “Better than I am,” the Flowers admitted. “I’m going to head
down to Seven Forks in a bit and see about getting him some clothes. Dad’s
going to watch him.”
    The Flowers didn’t need to add that Ricky wasn’t joining her
because we