by Kit Morgan
“I was in the kitchen with Summer. We were chaperoning, remember? It’s our job to spy.”
Bernice laughed. “Thank you for doing it so … discreetly.”
“You’re welcome. Now how about we get supper started?”
Bernice sighed dreamily and followed Elle into the kitchen. She’d wear her yellow dress tomorrow – yes, definitely the yellow.
Thirteen
“Have you always been a farmer?” Bernice asked. “I mean, your family – have they always been farmers?” They were in the middle of the orchards, somewhere between the two farms, and couldn’t have asked for a better day for a picnic. Summer had sent them off with a blanket, a basket and a subtle warning that Clayton would be nearby watching them.
“Always, for as long as anyone can remember,” Warren said. “Well, my pa’s side anyway. Ma’s father was a banker.”
“A banker? My father is too!”
Warren stared at her and stopped breathing.
“Is something the matter?”
He shook his head. “No … it’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
He picked at some blades of grass near the edge of the blanket. “It’s a funny thing … you’re so much like my mother.”
Bernice’s brow furrowed. “Is that good or bad?”
He looked her in the eye. “I don’t rightly know. I mean, my mother was a wonderful woman. Loving, kind … never mind, I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Bernice started plucking the grass as well, out of nervousness. “And I don’t know if my reminding you of your mother is a compliment or not.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Too late, she thought.
“So, your father’s a banker?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “He just works at the bank; he doesn’t own it. Though my mother certainly wished he did.”
Warren’s face became somber. “It happens to people, you know?”
Bernice gave him a quizzical look. “What?”
“Greed.”
“Oh yes, don’t I know it.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress.
“You look very pretty today,” he told her with a smile.
She gazed at him and smiled back. “Thank you. This is one of my favorite dresses.”
“I’ve always liked gingham. And I like the pink.”
She smiled, her mind going over her frenzy before he got to the house. She tried all of her dresses on, then did it again. Summer and Elle had laughed at her the entire time, and she finally laughed with them when she realized how foolish she was being. Warren was coming to spend time with her, not a frock. Nonetheless, the only reason she was wearing her pink gingham now was because she’d had it on when he showed up. “My mother had it made for me.”
“Your mother has good taste.”
She gave him a half-smile, not wishing to discuss her mother any more than necessary. “What’s your grandfather up to today?”
“Work, as usual. Which I should be doing too,” he added before he could stop himself.
She watched him as she reached for the basket and opened it. “Why aren’t you?” she asked, pulling out a small bowl of chicken.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Do you consider this work?” she asked.
He stared at her in shock. “How can you ask such a thing? This isn’t work. Far from it.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s … well, it’s … courting.”
“And you don’t consider that work?”
He stared at her a moment, his jaw slack. “I must say, you have a funny way of looking at things.”
“I’m trying to figure out how you look at things. A lot of men send for mail-order brides because they don’t want to concern themselves with courting. I guess it makes life simpler for them.” She pulled out another bowl, not bothering to look at the contents, and set it on the blanket.
“I consider this a pleasure.”
She smiled. “So do I.”
“Then why all the questions?”
“To see if we think alike.”
Warren laughed. “Well, you have an interesting way of going about it. You could’ve asked me in one question instead of three.”
“Yes, but I think I found out more this way, don’t you agree?”
“I suppose so,” he said, still chuckling. “But it …” He froze.
Bernice caught it and stilled as well. “What’s the matter?”
“Don’t move.”
“What?” she asked, her voice holding a hint of panic.
“Bernice,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t. Move.”
Bernice’s eyes looked this way and that, but she couldn’t see anything in their immediate surroundings that would have him acting this way. “Warren?”
He put his finger to his lips and very slowly got to his feet. “Do everything I say …”
“Warren?” she squeaked.
He held his hands down to her to help her stand and pulled her up slowly.
It was then she heard it. Thump, thump, thump. She swallowed hard, eyes wide. “What is it?” she whispered.
Warren’s eyes were riveted on something behind her. He’d stopped breathing.
“Warren, what –?”
He covered her mouth with one hand and put a finger to his lips, then shook his head. He then took both of her hands in his and began to back away, pulling her along with him.
Thump, thump, thump.
“Warren?” she mouthed.
He shook his head again in warning and continued to back up. Once he’d gone about thirty feet, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Lord.”
“Can I turn around now?” she whispered, her eyes like platters.
“I think it’s safe.”
Bernice slowly turned around and gasped. A family of skunks was now happily tucking into their picnic! “No!” she cried.
Warren quickly pulled her against him and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t make noise. And don’t make any sudden moves.”
She nodded and he slowly removed his hand. “Well,” he said, his voice low. “There goes our picnic.”
“Oh, look!” she whispered as she took in the furry invaders. “They have babies!”
“Yeah – and their spray is the worst!”
“Really? How can something so cute be so awful?”
“It’s just how the good Lord made them, I guess. Why, I have no idea.”
They watched the mother skunk start to pull chicken out of the bowl. “And to think I helped make that,” Bernice lamented.
“You did?”
She nodded. “My first batch of fried chicken, and you don’t even get to try it.”
Mama Skunk raised her head, looked at them and sniffed the air.
“And it doesn’t look like she’s going to share any of it with us,” Warren hissed.
“Well, at least her children will be well fed.”
“I’d rather it was us that was well fed, but things happen. I’m sorry – I wanted this picnic to be special. I wish I’d thought of it first.”
“It doesn’t matter who thought of it, only that you agreed. Myself, I think picnics are … well, you know … romantic.”
“Having a picnic invaded by a family of skunks … decidedly less romantic,” Warren grumbled.
She turned and looked up at him. “I think Mrs. Skunk over there has already had a healthy dose of romance, considering the size of her brood.”
“It would’ve been nice if we had ours.”
Her eyes widened at his remark, and she realized that his hands were still on her waist. “Are you … talking about romance?”
He pulled her a little closer. “I believe I am,” he said as his eyes roamed her face, then focused on her mouth.
Bernice swallowed hard as he took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “And it got interrupted?”
“Looks that way.”
He chuckled just before his lips met hers.
The kiss was gentle, slow and nothing like the kisses Bernice had experienced before. Which didn’t mean much, since the last kiss she’d experienced was when she was twelve. She couldn’t remember if it was Garrett Vander or Jess Templeton, only that she hadn’t kissed a boy since. But this was no boy. This was a man, one who wanted to make sure she knew exactly how a man kissed a woman.
Warren’s hands went from her waist to her back as he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.
She moaned, unsure of what to do, what to think! The sensations were like nothing she’d ever known before. Her body grew warm, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to breathe again. Before she knew it she was locking her arms around him!
And before either of them could even think to stop, the unthinkable happened.
* * *
“Merciful heavens!” Mrs. Riley exclaimed as she scrubbed Bernice’s hair. “Did all of them spray you or just one?”
Bernice grimaced as Elle and Summer also scrubbed. “There were so many of them! What were we to do?”
“You could’ve tried getting as far away as possible,” Elle admonished. “What were the two of you doing that you didn’t see a whole family of skunks heading your way?”
“It wasn’t the whole family,” Bernice said. “Just the little ones.”
“Great Scott!” Mrs. Riley practically shrieked. “Those are the worst!”
“So I’m told.”
Summer pushed herself up from the tub, put her hands on her hips then smiled. “He kissed you, didn’t he?”
Bernice turned bright red, though it was hard to tell. Her entire body was raw from the scrubbing she’d endured.
Not that she was in a position to complain. She was sitting in a zinc tub in the middle of the kitchen, and it was all the other women could do to be near her. The stink would’ve been a lot worse had Warren not flung her out of harm’s way at the last moment. She remembered feeling Warren stiffen, opened one eye and noticed both of his were already open. It was then he tossed her to the side as the little creatures – who were already in position, backs toward them, hind legs in the air – aimed and fired. Needless to say, Warren took the brunt of it.
“He was kissing you!” Summer exclaimed with glee. “I knew it!”
“Who was supposed to be chaperoning?” Mrs. Riley asked. “You?”
“No,” Summer said with a giggle. “Clayton.”
“Well he didn’t do a very good job, did he?”
“No, but the skunks certainly did,” Elle quipped.
“I’m very happy all of you are finding this so amusing,” Bernice said. “But how long is this going to last? Yuck! The smell is terrible!”
“Think of how Warren feels,” Mrs. Riley pointed out. “From what I understand he’s even worse off.”
“Yes. If only he hadn’t tripped …”
“I still don’t understand why they got so close to you in the first place,” said Summer.
“Maybe the good Lord was making sure Warren behaved himself, seeing as how Clayton wasn’t close enough,” Elle surmised.
“Couldn’t He use something other than skunks?” Bernice groused.
“Well, the only other wildlife around here are bears and mountain lions,” Summer mused. “And snakes. Bunnies don’t count – they make horrible chaperones.”
Bernice was unmoved. “Be that as it may, this is still an inconvenience. How are Warren and I supposed to court now?”
“The two of you will just have to do your best, dear,” Mrs. Riley said. “But don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”
Bernice groaned as the scrubbing continued. “I hope so. I’ll never get married at this rate.”
“Nonsense, dear, you’ll be married before you know it,” Mrs. Riley assured.
“Yes,” Summer agreed. “In fact, we wanted to take you to town and pick out some fabric for your dress.”
“So much for that,” Bernice said. “I can’t go anywhere like this.”
“No, you can’t, can you?” Elle mused. “But maybe we can get a few things and bring them home for you to look at. Whatever you don’t like, we can take it back to the mercantile and exchange it for something else. I’m sure Mrs. Quinn won’t mind.”
“If you say so,” Bernice said and cringed just as Mrs. Riley dumped a bucket of warm water over her head. She spit, sputtered and wiped her eyes.
“Look at it this way, dear,” Mrs. Riley said brightly. “At least the two of you will have a story to tell your children!”
Bernice groaned again. At the rate she was going, she might never have any ...
* * *
Warren gathered up some blankets and headed for the barn.
“Ya sure ya wanna to do this?” Grandpa asked him, from a generous distance.
“Grandpa, if I stay in the house I’ll make the whole place smell. A week out in the barn isn’t going to kill me.”
“So, uh, how’s yer bride-to-be?”
“I’m sure she’s surviving, and she has plenty of help.”
Grandpa laughed. “Woo-ee! Just what were ya doin’ out there, boy? I hope ya didn’t scare that family of skunks too bad.”
“Obviously I did. I wish I’d had a gun out there.”
“By the way, how’s your ankle? Ya didn’t twist it too bad when ya fell, did ya?”
“It’ll be fine – I’m sure I’ll be walking normally in a few days. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed down for the night and I suggest you do the same. We have a lot of work tomorrow, seeing as how I couldn’t get to it today.”
“Well, I’m sure ya got somethin’ done.”
Warren was already halfway across the yard, but he turned to face his grandfather. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Ya had to have seen the little buggers comin’ – skunks always give fair warnin’. How come ya didn’t take off sooner?”
“I don’t wish to discuss it,” Warren huffed, then spun on his heel.
“I hope the kiss was worth it!” Grandpa called after him.
Warren stopped and rolled his eyes. Then he sighed, smiled and glanced back over his shoulder at him. “You know … I think it was.”
Fourteen
Three weeks. It took three entire weeks for the skunk smell to completely go away.
Bernice thought she might go mad. Mrs. Riley, Summer and Elle went into town several times to fetch things for her wedding, but Bernice’s heart wasn’t into it. How could it be when she hadn’t even seen her intended since … the incident? At least she and Warren could pass notes via the Riley women and Warren’s grandfather, but it was hardly the same.
She sighed as she stared at her once-pristine pink gingham dress. Mrs. Riley had hung it out in the barn while working to wash the stink from it, and after repeating the process more times than they could count, the smell was … well, lessened. Unfortunately, the dress now looked old and worn. If she was smart she’d throw it out, but she just couldn’t bear to part with it.
That day, Bernice had decided a nice dose of sunshine would do it good and hung it on the clothesline behind the house. Mrs. Riley had previously kept it separate from the rest of the laundry, for obvious reasons. Bernice stood on a box and plucked it from its hanging spot, took a sniff, winced and went to pin it on the line.
“Still trying to save it?” Elle asked as she put the last of the dry laundry in a basket.
Bernice nodded sadly. “It was … one of the last things my mother gave me.”
“That makes it harder. I hope you can get the odor to come out.”
“It’ll come out, it just takes time. At least I don’t smell anymore.”
“How is Warren doing? After all, he got it a lot worse than you did.”
Bernice shrugged. “Fine, according to his letters. He says he’s tired of sleeping in the barn, though.” She frowned. �
��I know that feeling.”
“Maybe Spencer or Clayton should pay the Johnson farm a visit?”
“That would be nice,” Bernice said as she finished pinning up her dress.
“I’ll talk to Spencer when he gets home. If Warren is … recovered, I’m surprised Old Man Johnson hasn’t come over to let us know.”
“He was here last week, and he said Warren was no longer limping.”
Elle smiled. “Tell you what, if Warren’s doing all right, I’ll have Spencer invite him over for supper.” She put an arm around Bernice. “Then the two of you can pick up where you left off … well, maybe not right where you left off ...”
Bernice blushed. “I don’t think I’d mind,” she confessed.
“Save it for after the wedding,” Elle teased, then started to guide them back to the house. At least the story of their interrupted kiss hadn’t left the confines of the Johnson and Riley Farms. Bernice could just imagine the field day someone like Nellie Davis would have with such a juicy tidbit.
Elle was already planning ahead. “Just in case he is able to come, let’s make a pie. You’re getting a lot better at baking. Maybe your skunk encounter is really a blessing in disguise.”
“At least for my baking, though the last pie I baked barely held up.”
“It was fine. Do you want to try making supper tonight? If Warren can come, I’m sure he’ll love that you made it.”
“I just hope I don’t burn anything again, especially if Warren comes.” Bernice became nervous at the thought, and found herself wiping her hands on her apron, even though they weren’t sweaty. Yet.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t. I promise.”
Once in the kitchen, the two women set to work. Before long, Clayton came in for lunch and left again. Mrs. Riley and Summer had gone to town to pick up more fabric samples for Bernice to consider – they wanted to start on her dress as soon as possible. Even Bernice had begun feeling excited at the prospect.
“Girls! Girls!” Mrs. Riley called as she rushed excitedly into the house, then the kitchen.
“What is it?” Elle asked as she turned from the stove.
“I have the most exciting news! Mrs. Quinn’s sister Mary is coming to town and she’s bringing the whole family!”