A Mid-Summer's Mail-Order Bride

by Kit Morgan

  Bernice shook her head. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. But until I hear it from him, I won’t be sure. For all I know, he’s going to town tomorrow to buy me stage fare.”

  “Oh, he’ll do no such thing.” She grabbed the coffee pot off the stove and set it on a tray on the worktable. “But the only way you’re going to know for yourself is if you spend more time with him. Get some cups and saucers out of the cupboard, will you?”

  Bernice did as she asked and set them on the tray as Elle got a plate of cookies ready. “How should I go about that?”

  “Why don’t the two of you have your coffee and dessert on the porch? It’s not like you don’t have plenty of chaperones around.”

  “Together? Alone?” Bernice mulled it over. It did sound workable.

  “The rest of us will be in the parlor and we can leave the window open. You’ll be feet away.”

  “But … what if he doesn’t want to?”

  “Oh, he’ll want to. In fact, he’ll have to – we have a pretty small parlor. Some of us are either going to have to sit out on the porch or stay in the dining room.”

  Bernice’s face brightened. “I see.” She smiled and blushed at the news, then picked up the tray and left the kitchen.

  When she entered the dining room, Spencer got up, took it from her and set it on the sideboard. “Thank you, Bernice,” he said. “I’ll take it from here and pour everyone a cup.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  Elle entered, grinning. “Warren – why don’t you and Bernice have your coffee on the porch? I’m sure the two of you have much to discuss.”

  Bernice just managed to suppress a grimace. Well, here it was – the moment of truth. Or a moment of truth at least …

  Warren scooted his chair back and stood. “That’s a great idea,” he said as he walked over to Bernice.

  She forced herself to stay put and not flee the room. Repeating “confidence” to herself could only do so much, and her sudden momentary bravery was nowhere to be found in that moment. But why was she losing her nerve now? Was it some premonition that he was going to tell her that he wouldn’t marry her?

  Spencer handed him two cups of coffee then pointed to the plate of cookies Elle had brought in. “Enjoy yourselves,” he said, then went back to filling the other cups.

  “Shall we?” Warren asked.

  Bernice nodded. One way or the other, she might as well get it over with. She grabbed a few cookies from the plate and followed him out to the porch.

  There was a swing there to sit on, and she hoped that if he gave her bad news, she didn’t spill coffee on one or both of them, or drop a cookie. Hopefully she could be done with it, then go to bed and deal with the rest of it tomorrow.

  They sat on the swing at the same time, and once it stilled he handed her a cup. “Careful, it’s hot.”

  She nodded, took it and offered him a cookie.

  He stared at it a moment before he took it, then gazed at her. “Miss Caulder …”

  “I think I already know what you’re going to say,” she said as she stared at the cup in her hand. “But I’ll need a few days to decide where I’m going.”

  “What?”

  She looked at him, summoning up what strength she could. “I don’t want to go back to Independence, not if I can help it.”

  “Miss Caulder.” His face softened. “Bernice …”

  “Though I suppose if I have to, I will. It’s just that my mother is going to make my life miserable until I can leave again. That I can guarantee …”

  “Bernice, let me finish …”

  She turned away. “Unless you need to be rid of me quickly. Though I don’t see why – it’s not like you’ll have to see me. I’m at least four orchards away ...”

  “Bernice …”

  “I hope that when you are ready to marry, you find a nice girl –”

  “Bernice!”

  She jumped and almost spilled her coffee. “What?!”

  “What are you talking about?!”

  Her eyes widened, and it took her a few seconds to get back on track. “I was … I was thinking we were out here so you can tell me that you’re sending me back.” Come on, backbone, don’t weaken now!

  “No. No, we’re not.”

  “We’re not?”

  “No! I took Spencer’s suggestion to come out here so that … well, so I could spend a little time with you.” Her mouth opened, but before she could say anything, he put a finger to her lips. “You have to understand, I’m not the type of man that likes spontaneity. I like order, I like everything in its place, I like everything done at a certain time. Including finding a wife.”

  “But …,” she said against his finger.

  He shook his head. “Please, let me finish. I always thought of surprises as nasty things that happen to other people. When Grandpa sent away for you and didn’t tell me, needless to say it came as a shock.” He removed his finger from her lips and leaned toward her. “I mean, who wouldn’t be shocked to find out you had a bride coming to town that day, and you didn’t even send for her?”

  “Believe me, I know what you’re talking about. I’ve seen it happen – more than once,” she added with a chuckle.

  He took a deep breath and sighed. “So I needed a little time. But now that I’ve had a little time, I’ve been able to think through a few things.”

  She cocked her head to one side, an eyebrow rising in suspicion. “What are you trying to tell me, Mr. Johnson?”

  “For one, that you can call me Warren. There’s no harm in it.”

  She looked away. “But there’s also no point in it, not if you’re going to tell me that you won’t marry me.”

  “Bernice,” he said as he put a finger under her chin and brought her face around so he could look at her. “I’m sorry about the way I’ve acted since you got here. I know you can’t blame me, but can you forgive me?”

  Bernice nodded. “Yes, I can. I think we’ve already established that you’ve suffered a shock and that I was not part of your … schedule. Be that as it may, I am prepared to go back and face my family if need be.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  Her eyes went wide as platters. “I don’t? But … why not? If you aren’t ready to get married ...”

  “I wasn’t,” he said and leaned a little closer.

  “You … you changed your mind then?”

  He nodded as he gazed into her eyes. “I believe I have.”

  “Why? How?”

  He leaned closer as his eyes roamed her face. “Because, Bernice, you’re quite a woman. And you need a man. And I’d rather it be me than anyone else.”

  Eleven

  Bernice didn’t drop her coffee, which was somewhat miraculous, as she did almost fall off the swing.

  Once again with lightning speed, Warren caught her before disaster struck, and she was in his arms, her coffee cup between them. She belatedly realized she’d heard his land on the porch with a thud and was surprised it hadn’t shattered. How he’d managed not to spill coffee on them both, she didn’t know. “Your cup …,” she said.

  “It doesn’t matter. I thought you were going to … well, I thought you were fainting again.”

  “I think I might’ve been.”

  “Did I surprise you?”

  “Quite.”

  “That makes us even. And please, call me Warren.”

  She nodded numbly and realized the cup in her hands was growing hot. “Warren … I think you’d better let go of me.”

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” Quickly he pulled his arms away. “I wouldn’t want anything to appear improper, especially with the sheriff on the other side of that window.” He looked over at the parlor curtains, which were, of course, wide open.

  She looked at him as she set her cup gently on the porch. “Thank you, it was getting too warm to hold.”

  “I can see that. I seem to have made a mess of my coffee. I’d best go see if Mrs. Riley has something I can use to clean it u
p.”

  She rose from the swing. “I’ll get us something. Wait here – I’ll be right back.”

  “I can go with you.”

  “It’s no bother.” She went into the house, down the hall and into the kitchen. She took a bucket from under the dry sink, found the scrub brush and went out the kitchen’s back door to the pump. After getting some water, she carried the bucket through the house to the front porch. She noticed the Rileys and Grandpa watching, but none of them said a word.

  Returning to the porch, she knelt down and started working on the spill. “You’re lucky the cup didn’t break.”

  “Here let me do that,” he said as he knelt beside her.

  She dipped the brush in the bucket again. “I think I’m capable of doing this. Even though I did say I’ve never done it before – but how hard can it be?”

  He leaned back on his heels and watched her clean up his mess. “Thank you.”

  She stopped scrubbing to look at him. “Thank you.”

  “Thank me? For spilling coffee all over the porch?”

  “No, for not telling me that …” Tears filled her eyes, and she took a deep breath to push them back. “… that you don’t want to marry me.”

  “I’ll be honest, Bernice, I didn’t”.

  “I know. But what changed your mind?”

  The tips of his ears reddened. “You fainted.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I’ve got a weakness for damsels in distress.”

  She started scrubbing again as she stared at him. “Are you saying you don’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just ... well, you were brought up in a small town, from the sounds of it. You’ve never lived in the country, let alone on a farm. It’s a different life out here. A lot can happen, especially to a woman.”

  “And … you don’t want anything bad to happen to me?” she asked in surprise. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know enough to make me want to change my mind about marriage.”

  She dropped the brush in shock, then quickly snatched it up again. “You’re serious!”

  “Did you think I wasn’t?”

  “It’s just that …” She leaned back on her heels and shook her head. “I guess I had it so set my head that you didn’t want to that ...”

  “It seems we both had our agendas changed.”

  “Yes,” she said and gave him a blank look. “So now what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She raised her brows at that. “Well … I am your mail-order bride. There’s one logical thing that can come next.”

  “I hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

  She closed her eyes. Good grief, the man and his indecision – General McClellan moved faster than this dolt! Her despair flashed for a moment, but was quickly subsumed by … what? Anger? Disappointment? Frustration? Maybe it was the “attitude” Charlotte was talking about. If so, she was ready to give Warren both barrels of it. “What in Sam Hill do you mean, you hadn’t gotten that far yet? What was that talk about marrying me to protect me? Which, by the way, tells me you aren’t very confident in my ability to adapt.”

  “May I remind you that you’re the one that shared your list of inadequacies at the supper table.”

  “Your grandfather asked, I answered. What was I supposed to do, lie? Now, are you going to marry me or not?”

  “Yes!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh good grief, you have to ask?” he said with a groan.

  “Well, you haven’t exactly shown yourself to be decisive – except when I’m in danger of passing out,” she huffed.

  “That’s what I’m trying to get at. We don’t know each other!”

  “Well, that’s pointing out the obvious.”

  He groaned again. “I want to spend some time with you, get to know you better.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then we get married.”

  “What’s wrong with getting married now? It is why I came out here in the first place.”

  His body stiffened and he closed his eyes. “I just told you. I want to get to know you better.”

  So that was it, she thought. He wanted to see if they would suit. Reasonable enough, but it was far from a guarantee – and a long way from all that talk about her needing a man’s protection. Maybe he was just stalling. Or he just wanted an excuse to give his grandfather for sending her away – he’d at least be able to say he tried. “I see,” she said through clenched teeth.

  He stood and held a hand out to help her up. She looked at it, her stomach beginning to knot, tossed the scrub brush in the bucket, and stood – using the bucket to push herself up instead of taking his hand. “You’re refusing my help?” he asked.

  She sighed. “At this point, I’m not sure how reliable your help is. Where am I if you change your mind again – or just refuse to make it up?”

  The look on his face told her she’d struck home. But she wasn’t going to apologize for it – she needed to know where she stood. And he wasn’t telling her.

  After shuffling his feet a bit, he said. “Grandpa and I should be getting back – we still have some chores to do. Can I call on you tomorrow?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Bernice?”

  She sniffed, even though there were no tears in her eyes. “Do as you wish.”

  “Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Warren watched Bernice stomp back into the house, bucket in hand. Well, maybe not stomp, but her tread was certainly determined. He could tell she was upset with him.

  What did he do wrong? Didn’t he just tell her he wanted them to court before they were married? He’d come to grips with his shock at her arrival, and that his shock in turn was a shock to her. They were both a victim of his grandfather’s foolhardiness, and he needed a chance to step back and look at the situation for the opportunity it was.

  Apparently that wasn’t enough for her, and she’d stopped pretending it was. She wanted assurances – and he couldn’t blame her for that. But he didn’t have any to give … yet.

  True, he’d had his own plans as far as when he’d take a wife. But he’d also noticed how Bernice brought out his protectiveness and a tenderness he didn’t know he had. He’d always been a straightforward, practical sort, not one who suffered nonsense. But when it came to Bernice Caulder, despite her obvious helplessness at times, he’d made an obvious exception.

  What was it about this girl? No, wait … not a girl. She was a woman – young, yes, but so was he. She was hardly fit for farm life by her own admission, had none of the skills needed to be a farmer’s wife, yet she had the boldness to admit it and the intelligence and willingness to learn. She had gumption, and that was attractive to him. Besides, she had already begun to learn a thing or two from the Rileys.

  What she needed from him was a guarantee. And for him to give her that, he needed to spend more time with her. He hoped she’d be willing to wait for him. Otherwise …

  He sighed and went into the house.

  “There you are, boy,” Grandpa said as he came out of the parlor. “I think your bride went to her room.”

  “We’d best get on home.”

  “Ain’t ya gonna apologize?”

  “For what?”

  “I dunno, you tell me. Every time you talk to that poor gal, you get her all riled up.”

  “Grandpa, that’s not true and you know it.”

  “All ya did was go out and sit on the porch with her, then she comes in the house and goes out again lookin’ like she’s gotta clean the floor. Then she comes in again without sayin’ a word to anyone and shuts herself in her room. What am I s’posed to think? Ya must’ve done somethin’.”

  “Grandpa,” Warren groaned. “All I did was suggest that we court.”

  “Oh?” Grandpa said as he looked the hallway. “Then what’s the matter with that gal? Ya are gonna marry her,
huh?”

  “I … I suppose so, yes.”

  Grandpa, ignoring his lack of enthusiasm, slapped him on the back. “That’s my boy! I knew ya’d come through!”

  Mrs. Riley rushed out of the parlor and clapped her hands together. “Warren Johnson, I knew you’d see the light! Summer, Elle – we have work to do!”

  “Ma, don’t start!” Clayton ordered.

  “Yes, leave poor Warren alone,” Spencer added.

  “Who said anything about Warren?” she asked, hands on hips. “I’m talking about Bernice! She’ll need a dress, shoes, flowers, a cake …”

  “Enough, enough, enough, enough,” Clayton said as he came out into the hall. He turned to Warren. “You’d best leave before she drags you into her scheming.”

  “Clayton, I am not scheming,” his mother argued. “I’m planning a wedding.”

  “Mother, with you it’s the same thing. Let them court first.”

  “Well what’s a body to do while they’re courting?”

  “Stay out of the way, that’s what. I don’t want you doing anything wedding-wise unless Miss Caulder specifically asks you. You hear me?”

  “All right,” Mrs. Riley pouted, “have it your way.”

  Summer came into the hall, followed by Elle. “Don’t worry – between all of us we can get things done quickly. Let Bernice and Warren spend time together first.”

  Mrs. Riley sighed and looked at Warren. “I’m sorry, dear, but I do get excited when it comes to weddings.”

  “So I’ve heard,” he said as he leaned away, as if ready to bolt for the door.

  “Yes, I suppose it’s no great secret now, is it?” she said, laughing to herself.

  “You do have a bit of a reputation, Ma,” Clayton replied, chuckling along with her.

  “Where’s Bernice?” Elle asked.

  “Weren’t ya watchin’?” Grandpa told her. “She came into the house, went in her room and shut the door on us!”

  “She went to her room?” Mrs. Riley asked. “I thought she was in the kitchen.”

  “Nope. The boy here done upset her again.”

  “Grandpa! I did not … okay, I did, but I certainly didn’t intend to.” Warren sighed. “I’d like to come call on her tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”