Bride Blunder by Kelly Eileen Hake

ears. No woman with sense or pride stays where she’s unwanted if she has the slightest choice.” Grandma Ermintrude cocked her head. “Not that this one has a choice. She just needs time enough to think it through and she’ll be back.”
    â€œI told you not to call her Daisy.” Gavin gave vent to the ire that continued to mount, swelling with each moment he couldn’t look after Marge. “Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”
    â€œWhy couldn’t you tell me the truth?”
    â€œYou would’ve used it against her.” She wanted truth? He’d give it to her.
    â€œNever.” A long-buried pain rose from the depths of her gaze. Grandma’s voice went soft. “I’d never do that to another woman.”
    â€œGrandma?”
    â€œNow you. ..” Her customary sharpness returned in an instant. “ You I would’ve taunted with it, and that’s a fact.”
    â€œThen don’t ask why I didn’t spill the whole story with her waiting out front.” Anger at himself for how he’d handled things and at her for how her quarrelsome ways influenced him made his tone harsh. “You gave me cause to doubt the way you’d react.”
    â€œBlaming others for your mistakes makes for more mistakes to come.”
    â€œI’m sure there will be.” With that, he headed back to the mill. Until Marge returned, he’d busy himself repairing the gearwheel mechanism that gave way earlier. He set to work, restless in the silence. No turning wheels, no sounds of water churning, gears turning, and grain grinding accompanied him this afternoon. No cheerful tap of the damsel against the shoe as grain worked down the hopper between the millstones. Only stillness.
    He stopped every so often to go upstairs and outside, checking to see if she’d returned. No such luck. Three times he repeated the process, but it wasn’t until he’d replaced the splintered tooth entirely and did several test runs to assure himself of the integrity of the piece that he spotted someone approaching.
    No, not someone. Two women skirted around the millpond toward him. One wore the purplish color Marge arrived in, so Gavin abandoned his post and hustled to meet them. When he drew closer, he identified her companion as none other than Midge Collins—one of the women he’d hoped Daisy would befriend.
    Relief at Marge’s safe return crashed against rage that she’d ever left. Regret joined the other two emotions when he saw her reddened nose. Has she been crying this whole time?
    â€œMarge—we were worried about you.” Somehow it didn’t sound like the reprimand he’d intended or the half apology he almost felt appropriate. He sounded stiff.
    â€œWere you?” Miss Collins noticed his voice sounded off. Her very posture spoke of disapproval and suspicion.
    â€œThoughtless of me to disappear like that.” The mumble hardly sounded like Marge. “But in times of trouble, I find it best to collect one’s thoughts and determine a course of action.” This last sounded more like her.
    â€œI already determined what we’d do.” He kept it vague, uncertain how much Marge told Miss Collins. The less anyone else knew about the problem, the better.
    He could already hear the gossip if word got out. “There’s our town miller—such a fine head on his shoulders he can’t even propose to the right girl!”
    â€œYour plan is unacceptable.” The red all but left her nose. “Thankfully, I ran into Miss Collins here, and we’ve devised a better one.”
    â€œThis is none of Miss Collins’s affair.” With great effort, Gavin kept from shouting. “You are my bride. This is a matter between us.”
    â€œAh, but that’s just the problem, isn’t it, Mr. Miller?” Miss Collins stepped forward. “Marge is not your bride.”
    ***
    â€œShe will