A Mid-Summer's Mail-Order Bride (15 page)

He also hoped he’d be able to steal another kiss like the one they’d shared.

He swallowed hard and climbed down the ladder. The woman was … irresistible to him. Why, he didn’t know, but she was. She had something other women he’d known didn’t, and he wanted more of it. It wasn’t just that she was adorable, in her own clumsy sort of way, or the way she viewed the world around her. There was something more. But whatever it was, he liked it.

Of course, he also wanted to make sure he smelled better before he saw her again – and that had taken the full three weeks. At least he’d gotten a lot of work done around the farm in that time. But now, maybe he could relieve Grandpa of the chore of going into town for supplies. And … he could pick up something for Bernice at the mercantile, a little token to let her know his intentions. He’d never been around a woman that, when parted from her, he missed …

That woke him up. Yes – yes, he
could
marry her! So what if she couldn’t cook or sew yet? She was learning, and there were things he could teach her too. And the rigors of the farm … well, he’d probably worry every time a rain storm came up, but then he’d likely fret even if she was six feet tall and built like a bull. Farming was a worrying life – he might as well spend it with someone he loved!

Warren smiled at the thought, brushed a few stray leaves off his shoulders, then headed for home. He’d eat well, get a good night’s sleep – and tomorrow, he’d woo Bernice Caulder right off her feet!

Fifteen

“All right, you two, listen up,” Spencer declared as if launching into some great speech.

His deputy Billy Blake stood to attention, but Tom Turner yawned.

“Consarn it, Tom, this is serious business!”

Tom stretched. “Sorry, Sheriff. My little one had a bellyache or somethin’ last night, and kept Rose and I up for most of it.”

“Oh – well, I’m sorry to hear that. She’ll be okay, won’t she?”

“Ah sure, she’s right as rain this mornin’.”

“Glad to know. Now back to the business at hand – my ma told me that the Weaver clan is coming to town, probably tonight.”

“The Weaver clan!” Billy said with a groan. “
All
of them?”

“All of them. That means we’ll have to pay close attention to their comings and goings.”

“They ain’t as bad as all that, Sheriff,” Tom said as he went to the potbellied stove, picked up the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. “I keep tellin’ ya, they’ve calmed down.”

“I’m sorry Tom, but every time they come to town there’s trouble and … well, I know you spent a lot of time out there and you’ve gotten to know them, but … well, that’s there and this is here and I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Tom shrugged. “Suit yerself, but them boys truly have changed for the better.”

“So long as they don’t make any of us have to change out a window, I’ll be happy,” Billy said.

“There ain’t gonna be no broken windows or nothin’ else this visit, I’m sure,” Tom consoled. “It’s been what, a year and a half since they came to town?”

“Sixteen months,” Spencer answered. “The Valentine’s dance. That was a fiasco.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Sheriff,” Tom said with a grin. “I married Rose the next day.”

“After helping the rest of us clean up the mess from the night before,” Spencer reminded him.

“And there weren’t no broken windows,” Tom added.

“No, but there were plenty of upset people.”

Tom shrugged. “I’m sure there won’t be none of that this time. Besides, it was Matthew Quinn that really caused the ruckus.”

“You helped,” Billy added with a grin.

Tom’s face reddened as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Just keep an eye on the twins and Daniel until they leave,” Spencer ordered. “That’s all I ask.”

“Why not just have Tom follow em’ around, Sheriff?” Billy suggested. “He’s the one that gets along with em’ so well.”

Spencer smiled and looked at Tom. “Hmmm … that sounds good to me. What about it? You up to babysitting that bunch?”

“They’re grown men, Sheriff – they don’t need no babysittin’.”

“Then it’ll be easy duty for you, won’t it? Billy and I will handle the regular stuff.”

Tom sighed. “All right. But I’m tellin’ ya, there ain’t gonna be no trouble.”

* * *

Bernice felt nervous as they approached town. She kept touching her hair and, when she thought the others weren’t looking, sniffing her hands and her clothes. Thankfully, there was no smell. But she kept compulsively checking.

“You’re fine, stop it,” Summer scolded as they reached town. “The stink is gone. Besides, you put on some of Elle’s perfume, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Bernice said. “I’m just so worried. Maybe because I carried it for so long, I swear I can still smell it even though it’s not there.”

“That’s normal, dear, from what I’ve heard,” Mrs. Riley told her.

Bernice sighed at her words, and prayed they were true. The last thing she needed was to have folks whispering behind her back. There’d probably be enough of that as it was. She was sure some of them expected her to arrive as Mrs. Warren Johnson.
Well, we’ll have to see about that!
she thought.

“Oh my goodness! Look Ma!” Summer exclaimed. “Isn’t that Arlan Weaver and his wife?”

Mrs. Riley peered down the street. Sure enough, Arlan and Samijo were standing in front of the mercantile. “Land sakes, they’re here! Probably just arrived.”

“I thought you said it took almost a day for them to get here,” Elle inquired. “It’s not even lunchtime.”

“Sometimes Arlan likes to get an early start,” Mrs. Riley explained.

“So they left
last night?
” Bernice asked in disbelief.

“Most likely.”

Bernice cringed. She couldn’t imagine packing up a wagon in the evening, then heading out and traveling all that way in the dark. What was life like for that man’s poor wife?

“Let’s go say hello!” Mrs. Riley chirped. “Summer, park the wagon across the street, will you?”

Summer guided the wagon over, parked and set the brake. Arlan spotted them and smiled.

Bernice studied the couple in awe. He was huge and handsome, with brown hair and a broad chest. But his wife was small like her, though not as thin, with sable hair, big brown eyes and a pretty smile. She didn’t look worn out or broken-down. If anything, she was quite healthy and happy and – if Bernice’s guess was right – pregnant.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Riley!” Arlan called as he crossed the street. “May I be of some assistance?”

Bernice’s eyes widened. He didn’t speak like a savage. His hair was combed, his clothes neat and clean … where was the unruly tribe she’d heard about?

“Thank you, Arlan,” Mrs. Riley said. He helped her down, then Summer, Elle and finally Bernice. His size frightened her at first, but the gentleness in his eyes made up for it. Still, only once her feet were on the ground did she breathe again. Warren Johnson was much more suited to her taste – and size. She wished he was there with her now.

“Well, look at you!” Arlan exclaimed to Elle. “Looks like Doc Brown’s gonna be busy ‘round here in a few months.”

Elle watched as Samijo waddled over. “And not just here, I’d say.” The closer the woman got, the more obvious it became that she wasn’t far behind Elle in her pregnancy.

“That’s why we’re here. Ma’s talkin’ with Aunt Betsy about havin’ me and Samijo stay in town awhile when her time comes.”

“Probably a good idea,” Mrs. Riley agreed. “You’re so far away that, if anything should happen …”

“My thoughts exactly,” he said.

“Where are your brothers?” she asked.

“Inside the mercantile, driving poor Matthew crazy,” he told her with a laugh.

“I see.” She turned to the others. “Let’s go see how we can be of help.”

“Driving Matthew crazy?” Summer asked. “Or saving him?”

“Maybe a little of both,” she said with a wink at Arlan.

“Have fun. Samijo and I are headin’ over to the Doc’s.” He looked at Bernice. “I’m sorry, but have we been introduced? I’m Arlan Weaver and this here’s my wife, Samijo.”

“Bernice Caulder. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Are you here visiting?” Samijo asked.

“No, I …”

“Miss Caulder came to get married,” Mrs. Riley answered for her.

“Married?” Arlan said in surprise. “Who ya marryin’?”

“Warren Johnson,” Bernice blurted before Mrs. Riley could.

“Warren … oh, the apple boy.”

Bernice’s head cocked slightly. “Apple boy?”

“That’s what my brothers and I used to call him. He’s all into his farm and not much else. Hardly even comes to town, from what we hear. Aunt Betsy said he ain’t been in the mercantile for weeks.” He smiled at Bernice. “Her guess was because he got hisself a wife, but … wait a minute, you ain’t married yet?”

Bernice shook her head. “No, not yet.”

Arlan scratched his head. “How long ya been here?”

Bernice almost groaned. “Almost a month.”

“And ya still ain’t married?” He looked between the women in confusion. “Did ya change your mind about him?”

“No, I … well …” She sighed. “It’s complex.”

Behind her, Summer stifled a snort.

“Well, I’ll take your word for it, Miss Caulder. Now Samijo and I had best be goin’. Good seeing ya again, Mrs. Riley, Summer, Elle.” He tipped his hat, took his wife’s hand and strode off down the street.

Bernice watched them go and wondered how many more people she was going to have to give the same explanation to. With her luck, it’d be the whole town. She sighed again, then followed the other women across the street to the mercantile.

Where it got worse. When she entered, the three men standing at the counter froze and gawked at her. It was all the more impressive because one of them had Matthew Quinn by the shirt collar, looking as if he was about to yank him right over the counter! “Is that who I think it is?” he asked.

“Looks like it,” another said.

Bernice’s brain managed to register that those two must be The Twins. She swallowed hard.

“Hey, Ma!” another yelled. “It’s a girl!”

A petite woman rushed out from the back of the mercantile, Mrs. Quinn on her heels. “What’s all the fuss about … oh!” she said as she caught sight of Bernice. “So it is.”

Bernice just barely resisted the urge to flee.

“You’ve been holdin’ out on me, Betsy,” the woman said. “I didn’t know there was a young woman in town.” She spun on Mrs. Quinn behind her. “Is she spoken for?”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Mrs. Quinn said with a roll of her eyes. “She married Warren Johnson!”

Bernice wanted to shrink against the wall.
Here we go again …

“I don’t think that’s entirely true, Mother,” Matthew managed as he pried his cousin’s hand from his collar. He cleared his throat and straightened his clothing. “The reverend hasn’t performed any weddings that we know of.”

Bernice sighed in relief. At least she didn’t have to be the one to say it.

One of the twins took a few steps closer. “Then she
ain’t
spoke for?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Matthew suggested, rolling his own eyes. It seemed to be a family trait. Either that, or a normal reaction to the Weavers.

The man looked Bernice up and down. He was handsome, he and his brother, and for a second she almost wished she wasn’t spoken for. But then Warren’s face came to mind, and the longing she’d experienced over the last three weeks of separation hit like a thrown brick.
When was she going to get to see him?

“Yer purty,” he said, taking a few steps closer.

Mrs. Riley blocked his path. “Good heavens, mind your manners! Now are you Calvin or Benjamin?”

“Calvin, ma’am. How ya been, Mrs. Riley?”

“Very well, thank you.” She turned to Bernice. “This is Warren Johnson’s betrothed, Bernice Caulder.”

“Howdy do, ma’am?” he said with a tip of his hat.

Bernice forced herself to relax. For a moment there, she’d half-expected him to toss her over his shoulder and charge out the door. His manners – once applied – surprised her.

The other twin came forward and stood next to his brother. “And I’m Benjamin,” he said, also tipping his hat in greeting. “So yer gonna marry Apple Boy?”

Their mother marched over and smacked them both on the chest. “Will you stop referring to Warren Johnson as ‘Apple Boy’? For Heaven’s sake, you’re all grown men!”

“Sorry, Ma,” Calvin said. “But we ain’t seen Warren in years – not since ‘fore he went to get his fancy schoolin’.”

“I’m sure that by now he’s just as grown up as you are. Maybe more so.”

“He’s still younger’n us,” Benjamin pointed out.

“Maybe, but I bet he doesn’t act like you just did!” she barked back. “Now behave yourselves while Betsy and I take care of business.”

Another man came forward, just as handsome but obviously a few years younger. “How come you and Warren ain’t married yet? Did ya just get here?”

Bernice opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Riley beat her to it. “She’s been here a month, if you must know.”

Oh no, don’t tell them that!
Bernice thought. She looked at the three, who were now all leaning in her direction, and took a step back for safety’s sake.

“A whole month!” Calvin exclaimed. Or was it Benjamin? She couldn’t really tell either, especially as they were dressed alike. “And ya still ain’t married?”

“Must be somethin’ wrong with Warren,” the other commented.

“Hush now, the lot of ya!” Ma Weaver scolded. “And mind your own business!” She turned to Mrs. Riley. “So why aren’t they?”

Bernice blanched and gave Mrs. Riley a tiny shake of her head.

“Well, I’ll be!” the youngest piped up. “There really is somethin’ wrong with Apple Boy!”

“Will you stop calling him that!” his mother yelled. She again looked at Mrs. Riley. “Good heavens,
is
there?”

“They’re just taking time, nothing more,” she said diplomatically.

The three men looked at her, their faces screwed up as if deciding whether or not to buy her explanation, or lack thereof.

Finally the youngest went straight to Bernice. “My brothers are fixin’ to get married. I know they don’t look like much, but they’re both fine men. Either one’d be willin’ to die trying to protect ya from harm. And they’re both good hunters – ya’d never hafta worry about not havin’ enough to eat. And whichever one ya pick will make sure ya stay nice and warm at night. I hope you’ll consider one of em’ to marry in case Apple Boy don’t come through for ya.”