6 The Wedding Read Free

sound. Soon the pinwheel began to wobble on its loose axis before
coming off the end of the bolt entirely and falling to the ground. To the
horror of the two spectators, the pinwheel didn’t just roll over and play dead.
Instead, it landed on its edge and began to pinwheel toward town.
    “It’s loose,” Horace announced. “Quick,
after it!”
    Sasha and Horace gave chase but there was really no hope of
them ever catching up with the whirling dervish. They stopped running after
only a few meters and watched as the pinwheel proceeded down the center of Main
Street. The pickup being driven by the Braids managed to swerve and miss the
errant firework. No such luck for the communal Dumpster at the other end of
town. It could neither zig nor zag ,
so the pinwheel embedded itself in its overflowing contents and soon ignited
the seepage from the old barrel in which Big John disposed of his used grease. The
fire spread quickly and soon the Dumpster and surrounding trash became a fiery
conflagration.
    Sasha and Horace walked the full length of the street and
came to a stop when the heat of the blaze would allow them to advance no
further. Whisky Jack stepped out of the Lonesome Moose to join them.
    “Nice job, guys,” Whisky Jack commented with a chortle. “What’s
your next trick, blowing up the general store?”
    Whisky Jack began to bray a tuneless melody and shuffle his
feet to a count that only he could hear. The Braids walked up from behind, took
off her gloves, and began warming herself at the fire. The sun was out but the
wind was brisk.
    “Boys, do we need to have another talk regarding the use of
explosives in town?” she asked.
    “We’re awful sorry about this mess, Mrs. McIntyre,” Horace
said with contrition.
    “Me too,” Sasha added.
    “I guess we’ll just have to order another Dumpster,” the
Braids conceded. “I just wish the damn things would stop catching fire and
burning.”
    “You mean this isn’t the first time?” Horace asked in
surprise.
    The Braids simply laughed and shook her head as she walked
away back to her pickup.
    “Make note,” Sasha said. “Attach wing nut to bolt or wedding
is disaster.”
    “Duly noted,” Horace replied. “I sure am glad that Chuck is
out of town.”
    “Yes, is best if Mountie Chuck Goodhead does not see this.”
    As the fire began to die down, Sasha and Horace returned to
retrieve the remainder of their fireworks, leaving Whisky Jack to cackle in the
light of the smoldering embers.

 
    *   *   *

 
    “Mary, Mother of God, what is that?” Father White gasped, squinting out the window of the community room. “It looks
like a burning bush.”
    His eyesight wasn’t very good. Bushes aren’t usually box
shaped.
    Father White wasn’t supposed to be there, but when he had
heard that Reverend McNab was coming to town to
discuss the possibility of officiating at our wedding, he had invited himself
along to get in his licks about why he should be the one to marry Chuck and me.
I got the feeling that he missed doing weddings since probably no one in their
right mind would let him officiate anymore.
    Compassion had forced me into lying that I had planned to
talk to him next Sunday when it was his turn to preach in the Gulch.
    “It’s not a burning bush. The Dumpster at the market is on
fire again,” Reverend McNab said with mild interest.
He pet Max’s head. I give him credit for not being nervous with my wolf.
    “So it is,” I agreed, recognizing the four silhouettes that
had gathered near the flames. I would have felt compelled to rush out and
organize the idiots, but the Braids was there already
so I knew matters were well in hand.
    “Well then, lass. Have you thought about which scriptures
you would like read,” McNab asked, seating himself
again and getting back to the matter at hand.
    Neither minister had raised an eyebrow when I told another
whopping great lie about Chuck and me having a civil service in Winnipeg and
wanting this wedding to