"Andrews, V C - The Casteels 03 - Fallen Hearts" - читать интересную книгу автора (Andrews V.C)

"Who gives away this bride?"

My wedding was going to be the crowning point of forgiveness - his
forgiveness of me for causing the death of his angel, Leigh, when I was
born, and my forgiveness of him for selling us. I was willing to accept
Tom's belief that Pa sold us because he couldn't take care of us and he
thought that it would be the best thing for us.

But now none of this was to be.

I caught my breath and wiped the tears from my face. There was nothing
more to do about it, I thought. I had to concentrate on Logan and our
wedding. There was no time for self-pity or rage. Besides, Pa had
given me away long ago. At my wedding I would give myself.

About an hour before the wedding my sister Fanny arrived with Randall
Wilcox to take me to the church. Randall was a polite, shy young man
with sweet-potato red hair and milk-fair skin. His forehead was
splattered with tiny freckles, but he had bright blue eyes that shone
like tinted crystal. I had thought that maybe he looked older than he
was, but he had an innocent and fresh appearance and followed Fanny
about like a puppy.

"Why, Heaven Leigh Casteel, don'cha look virginal, this mornin"," she
exclaimed and threaded her arm through Randali's so she could press
herself to him possessively. She had her jet-black hair crimped and
blown out, making her look loose and wild like a street prostitute. I
had suggested she have her hair pinned up, anticipating she would do
something just like thiS.

"Don't she, Randall?"

He looked from me to her quickly, not expecting to have to testify in
support of Fanny's sarcasm.

"you look lovely," Randall said softly, diplomatically.

"Thank you, Randall," Fanny smirked. I looked at myself in the mirror,
adjusted some strands of hair, and snapped on my wrist corsage.

"I'm ready," I said.

"Sure ya are," Fanny said. "Ya always was ready for this day," she
added sadly. For a moment I felt sorry for her, despite her blatant
jealousy. Fanny always longed for attention, always longed to be loved,
but always went about it the wrong way and probably always would.

"Fanny, the dress looks very nice on you," I said. We had driven to the
city and chosen a light blue crinoline for Fanny to wear as the maid of
honor. But Fanny had made alterations. She had lowered the neckline