“Doc wants to make certain you have all the necessary vaccinations and medical tests required. In our society it’s much easier to get married, but we want to be legal in all countries. I filled out the license for us. It just so happens the doc has a friend who is a judge here. They know they have to hold the paperwork before filing until this is over. He was willing to juggle dates a bit for us, knowing Imelda’s reputation, but he assures me it will be legal and binding. It was easy enough to get my birth certificate, and we’re searching for yours. The judge has been very helpful. You need to sign a certificate stating you’ve never been married in front of the judge.”

She scowled at him. “Have you already done all that?” For some reason she was angry at him. Her out-of-control emotions made no sense at all.

“I’m not letting you escape.”

She forced a smile when she really wanted to swipe at him again. She hated the way she was feeling and no longer trusted herself, so she touched Jeremiah’s shoulder and left the room.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mary,” she said, entering the kitchen and rubbing at her arm. “I’m all over the place today. Conner just told me about the various things he’s been doing, certificates, making it legal, and I suddenly had this mad desire to cry.” She sighed and went to the window, ashamed of herself. “My skin feels too tight and itches uncontrollably. My emotions are completely out of control. I either want to cry or I’m angry and then I’m wildly happy. Does every bride feel this way on their wedding day?”

Mary turned around from where she was mixing cake batter in a bowl, her gaze speculative. “If the bride’s cat is close to the emerging, then yes, I’d have to say those emotions all make sense. Those are all classic signs, Isabeau. Has anyone talked to you about what to expect?”

“A little. My cat is a hussy.”

Mary laughed. “During the Han Vol Dan, all the females are hussies. And it’s the only time your male is going to be tolerant of flirtations. Our men are very jealous.” She laughed again and looked through the open door toward the den where Doc’s voice murmured in low tones. “Even old silly men.” There was affection in her voice. “He still finds me attractive, even in this old body.”

“You’re not that old, Mary.”

“Seventy-one, child. I look younger, but I don’t move as spryly as I used to.” She poured the batter into a cake pan and scooped out the last of it carefully. “As for you and your leopard, it’s an exhilarating experience. Are you afraid?”

“Nervous. Well . . . a little afraid. Does it hurt?”