Sarah Eckhart imagined that from a distance, what was going on around her would look like quite the happy little scene. All of her bridesmaids were gathered around her, chatting and giggling and collapsing into the over-stuffed couches when the giggles became too overwhelming. Which, after they had opened the second crate of champagne, had started happening more and more often. The rain drumming against the windows and graying the view of the lake beyond was cold for June, but the fire in the fireplace warmed the room quite snugly and filled the air with a soft pine scent.
How cozy, to stay warm and dry within while the skies dumped all their rain without, the silk and lace of her wedding gown smooth against her skin as the seamstress made her final alteration, the taste of champagne swee
