A Mid-Summer's Mail-Order Bride (7 page)

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No, it just startled me is all.” She looked at him. “Thank you for catching me. Losing my breath is better than landing face first on the floor.”

“I have no doubt,” he said with a smile. “Are you sure you’re all right? Do you need a drink of water or anything?”

Bernice caught a glimpse of Old Man Johnson as he put a hand to his mouth and turned from them, his shoulders shaking. Just marvelous – she was a laughingstock already. “No, really, I’m fine.”

Warren’s grandfather turned back, his face red. “You’d best escort the women back now, boy. I need to get some work done.”

“You be careful, Grandpa,” Warren told him.

The older man nodded. “Don’t worry about me – I’m always careful.” He glanced between Bernice and his grandson and smiled. “I’ll see ya later.” He went to a peg on the wall, grabbed his hat and went out the kitchen’s back door.

Warren sighed.

“You worry about him, don’t you?” Bernice asked.

“More than you know.”

“He seems fit as a fiddle,” Summer said. “And he did fine while you are away at school.”

“I know,” Warren said as he glanced between the two women. “But he’s not getting any younger, and pretty soon he’s going to slow down a lot more than he already has. I don’t know what I’ll do when he does.”

“Hire a few hands like Clayton’s done,” Summer suggested. “At least during harvest time.”

“Yes,” he agreed and looked at Bernice. “I suppose I’ll have to.”

Bernice took a step away from him, wondering if he saw her as inadequate for farm work. But why wouldn’t he, since she couldn’t even get out of a chair without nearly injuring herself?

“That was a fine pie, Mrs. Riley. Tell Elle thank you.” He looked at Bernice. “And thank you for bringing it to me. That was very kind.”

Bernice smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“Shall we go?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her face. She nodded and stared back, vaguely aware of Summer as she leaned against the kitchen table and watched them, a huge grin on her face. She wondered why he wasn’t moving, and if he was going to do the proper thing and offer her his arm.

But instead, he went to the same peg his grandfather had, grabbed a hat from it and put it on his head. “Ladies?” he said and waved them toward the back door. Either he wasn’t as gentlemanly as she first thought, or he didn’t want to give her the impression he was interested. How could she tell? As Grandpa Johnson had said, she didn’t know him well enough yet.

With a sigh, Bernice preceded him out the door.

Seven

Abducted? In the middle of a dance with the whole town present?! Warren could hardly believe it! What else had this poor girl suffered?

He glanced at Miss Caulder every now and then as they traversed the orchards back to the Riley farm. Summer made comments here and there about how their crops were doing and Clayton’s future plans. But Warren found it hard to concentrate on what she was saying, and even harder not to walk closer to Miss Caulder.

Her “tale of terror,” as he thought of it, had intrigued him at first – he’d always liked a good adventure story. But as it had progressed, it had had a surprising effect on him. Every protective instinct he had rushed to the surface, and he suddenly saw his mail-order bride as a fair damsel in distress. He’d never thought about the possible consequences of sending her back to Independence. What if the bandits that took her and her friend’s maid returned one day? What if they went after the women again? But didn’t she say they’d been arrested? Most of them, anyway ...

“Careful, now,” he said as he watched her stumble. He held out his arm. “Maybe you ought to hang on to something sturdy.”

She smiled shyly and stared at the arm he offered, as if unsure she should take it.

“Sometimes the ground between the rows of trees gets a little bumpy. Until you get used to walking the orchards, you’d best hang onto me.”

Her face went crimson as she took his arm and gently held on. He, in turn, tightened it around hers to make sure she was braced against him before they continued.

“Don’t feel bad, Bernice,” Summer said. “I was tripping all over the place when I first started walking through them.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t fall on the way over to your house,” she told Warren. “Especially as I was carrying the pie. That tends to be the sort of luck I have.”

“Like being abducted?” he teased.

She looked away, and he wondered if she was embarrassed by his remark. “I think that sums it up.”

“I don’t mind if you stumble, so long as you don’t hurt yourself. It happens. I can do without the abduction part, though,” he told her.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that story.”

“Actually I’m glad you did. It let me know that … well … sometimes a person isn’t always what they seem.”

She looked at him as they walked. “Are you telling me I don’t look like the type that would be abducted?”

He studied her and realized that … well, she rather
was
the type. She was pretty in an odd sort of way, petite, innocent … and something more that he couldn’t quite grasp. She was very sweet, but there was also a sort of toughness that he found beguiling. He wanted to see more of it. It made him wonder if she would’ve clobbered one of her captors with a frying pan too. “I suppose it depends on who’s doing the abducting.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Summer asked. “The victim usually doesn’t get to choose her captor.”

“I’m not talking about an outlaw. I’m talking about men who steal women out of love.”

Miss Caulder almost tripped and had to stop so she could right herself. “Love?” she blurted.

“Well … throughout history there’s been men that have snuck in to a woman’s home in the middle of the night and carried her away. I think it’s rather romantic, don’t you?”

“You mean like
Romeo and Juliet
?” Miss Caulder asked.

“I don’t recall any abducting in that story,” he said. “My point is, it’s one thing to be taken against one’s will by some dastardly villain, another to be whisked away by a lover.”

“Warren Johnson!” Summer exclaimed. “You should not be having this sort of conversation with Miss Caulder!”

“Why? She’s probably read about it in literature and poetry. Unless of course, you’re suggesting
I
would do such a thing.”

Summer stopped and spun to him “Would you?”

He stopped short and almost made Miss Caulder trip again. “Certainly not!”

She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide. “You wouldn’t?”

“Of course not! What kind of a barbarian do you think I am?”

“I wasn’t calling you a barbarian,” she shot back. “A moment ago you said it was romantic.”

Warren suddenly realized he’d gone out on a limb, and began trying to figure how he might sidle back off the branch. “Uh … yes, in certain cultures. But I don’t see it going over real well in Nowhere.”

Summer glanced between the two. “Why not? Stranger things have happened around here.”

“Like what?” he asked.

Summer shrugged. “Well … Charlotte Davis got married.”

Warren opened his mouth to speak but words evaded him. He looked at Bernice, then back to Summer. “You have a point there.”

She smiled at him, turned and started walking again.

Miss Caulder was confused. “Charlotte Davis … is she Charlotte Quinn now?”

“That’s the one,” Warren confirmed.

“I’ve met her, and she seems quite nice. Why would it be odd for her to get married?”

“Let’s just say the woman wasn’t always the person she is now,” Warren explained.

“How so?”

“When I went away to school, for example, she was quite the gossip.”

“Not to mention she had her cap set for Clayton,” Summer added over her shoulder as she walked ahead of them a few paces. “Or if not Clayton, Spencer. Or any other man who could get to the altar under his own power.” There was a trace of anger in her voice, as if Charlotte’s past misdeeds weren’t totally forgiven yet.

“And she was like that for years,” Warren continued. “But she’d changed considerably by the time I came home.”

“For the better, I take it?” Miss Caulder asked.

“Most definitely. I’ve never seen Matthew Quinn so happy.”

“Yes, isn’t it amazing what marriage can do for the soul?” Summer added with a grin.

Warren fought the urge to glare at her, forcing a smile instead. He knew well what she was doing. The odd thing was, he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would.

They walked through the orchard in relative silence as his brain scrambled for something else to say. A thought came and he smiled. “So, Miss Caulder … will the next pie you bring over be baked by you?”

She almost tripped again. “I think you … might want to let me practice a little before I subject you to my baking.”

He shouldn’t have said anything – he didn’t want to leave the impression that she’d be staying in Nowhere for the long haul, not just yet – but it was too late now. There was nothing left to do but be polite about it. “I look forward to your next visit, then.”

“With or without a pie?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said with a grin. “I do like pie.”

“And I’m sure you don’t mind one being delivered by a pretty girl, either,” Summer said without looking back.

Now he glared at Summer, but then let his eyes drift back to Miss Caulder. A sudden vision of her held captive by a band of ruffians hit, and his protective instinct rose up again.
Blast it!
“No, as a matter of fact. Just be sure you don’t come through the orchard by yourself. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You mean like fall on my face?” she asked with a shy smile.

“That, or … other things. We do have a prowler about.”

Her eyes became apprehensive. “Prowler? I don’t remember you saying anything about a prowler.”

“He meant the skunk,” Summer explained.

“Oh, I see. You’re quite right – I wouldn’t want to run into him!”

They walked out of the orchard and into the barnyard. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure. Miss Caulder, thank you ever so much for being the burden-bearer and carrying the pie over. It was most enjoyable.”

“I hope mine turns out as well as Elle’s. But there’s no guarantee.”

“No, I suppose there isn’t. But one must try one’s best.”

“I’ll try, but I don’t know if it’ll come out as my best,” she said and blushed.

“Well, I’ll look forward to it nonetheless. Now, I must be getting back. I’m sure Grandpa needs help with whatever it is he’s doing.”

They said their goodbyes and he turned to leave. He glanced over his shoulder as he headed into the orchards again, and saw the women heading toward the front porch. Another random thought struck him as he turned again to the trees. What if there were men such as the ones that abducted Ms. Caulder lurking around Nowhere? It wasn’t too long ago that there had been – and Summer, most of all, knew what it was like to be taken by them.

He shuddered at the thought, shook it off and continued home.

* * *

“Well?” Elle asked with a gleeful look.

“Bernice and Summer came into the house, turning just in time to catch one last glimpse of Warren before he disappeared into the trees. “I think it went very well,” Summer said. “Don’t you, Bernice?”

Bernice felt herself blush. “He liked your pie.”

“Never mind about my pie!” Elle said. “How did the two of you get along?”

“All right,” she said with a shrug. Actually, she thought it went better than “all right,” but didn’t want to get her hopes up. She also didn’t want to start getting attached to the man – not if it wouldn’t be reciprocated.

Elle looked at Summer. “Did it?”

“I thought so. Of course, neither of us knows Warren as well as Spencer and Clayton do, but I could tell he found Bernice attractive.”

Bernice almost gasped. “He did? How could you tell?”

“By the way he looked at you. Didn’t you notice?”

“Um … well, no. Though I did notice how attracted he was to the pie.”

“Bernice! Do you mean to tell me you can’t see when a man fancies you?”

She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I’ve never really been around men who fancied me. Not that I know of, anyway. There were a few at this year’s Valentine’s dance, but that was only because I had a nice dress on.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure Warren gets to see you a lot more and at your very best,” Elle concluded with a firm nod of her head. “Right, Summer?”

“Absolutely. We’ll make sure Warren can’t take his eyes off you.”

Bernice glanced at herself in the small mirror that graced the hallway where they stood. “I think it takes more than just looks to attract a man.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Summer said as she tapped her chin with a finger. “We might have to call in an expert.”

“Expert?” Elle said with a chuckle. “What do we need an expert for? An expert in what?”

“I’m talking about flirting. You know, all the things a girl does to attract a man’s attention?”

“Oh.
That.
” Elle turned to Bernice. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at that sort of thing, but I can make your hair look nice.”

“Um … I tried flirting back in Independence,” Bernice confessed. “It didn’t go so well.”

“Maybe you weren’t doing it right,” Summer suggested. “But I know someone who was a master at it. And,” she added darkly, “rather owes me a favor.”

Elle spun to her and gasped. “No! You’re not talking about …”

“I am,” Summer said with an evil grin. “Who better?”

Bernice glanced nervously between the two. “Who?”

“Charlotte Quinn,” they said at once.

“Before she was married, she was the biggest flirt in town,” Summer continued. “And the men knew it, but they still fell under her spell. That is, until she did something that showed her true character.”

“This is just wrong,” Elle groaned.

“Was she really that bad?” Bernice asked. “I keep hearing little hints that indicate she wasn’t a very nice person.”

“She wasn’t,” Summer replied.

“But people change,” Elle pleaded. “And Charlotte certainly has, for the better. In fact, we quite enjoy her company now. Don’t do this.”

But Summer was firm. “She was the best at it. And for all she put me and Clayton through – not to mention you and Spencer – I think she owes us this.”

Elle rolled her eyes, but fell silent.

“Do you think she’ll do it?” Bernice asked. “Teach me how to flirt? More importantly, do you think it’ll work? After all, Mr. Johnson was quite firm yesterday about not wanting to get married.”

“That’s because he hasn’t got a clue yet what he’s got,” Summer said.

“Er … perhaps he has,” Bernice said with a grimace. “This is all there is to me.”

“He’s only seen the outside. But he hasn’t seen the inside.”

“Yes, but that’s only if I stay long enough for him to do so.”

“You will,” Summer assured her. “Tomorrow we’ll go pay a visit to Charlotte and see what she has to say. Maybe she can teach us all a thing or two. Just because Elle and I are married doesn’t mean we should stop flirting with our husbands.”

Elle looked resigned to her sister-in-law’s scheme. “I suppose that’s true. All right, then – tomorrow morning we’ll pay Charlotte a visit.”