by Kit Morgan
Elle’s eyes widened. “The Weavers are coming to Nowhere? All of them? Oh dear ...”
Bernice glanced between the two. “Who are the Weavers?”
“Betsy Quinn’s sister’s family. The whole lot haven’t been to town together since the Valentine’s dance a couple of years ago. Arlen and his wife Samijo come in now and then for supplies – they’re no trouble at all. But the twins …”
“Oh, I remember the twins!” Elle groaned.
“What’s wrong with them?” Bernice asked.
“Oh, they’re nice enough boys,” Mrs. Riley assured her. “They’re just a little … rambunctious.”
“Rambunctious?” Elle said with a snort. “They’re wild animals!”
“Oh, come now, they’re nothing of the kind!” Mrs. Riley admonished. “And from what I hear from Betsy, they’ve calmed considerably over the last couple of years. Especially after Deputy Turner spent so much time with them. What he does out there, I have no idea, but it seems to have helped.”
“How old are they now?” Elle asked.
“Oh, that’s right!” Mrs. Riley said happily. “That’s part of the news! Mary wants to get together with Betsy and order up mail-order brides for the twins! Isn’t that exciting?”
Elle looked at her skeptically. “Do the twins know?”
“Do they know? It’s their idea! Just think – after Bernice’s wedding, we’ll have two more!”
Bernice thought about mentioning that her wedding wasn’t guaranteed yet, but decided to let it go. “Well, I think I can deal with any family that cares to visit, so long as they aren’t skunks!”
The three women laughed at that as Summer came into the kitchen. “What’s so funny?”
“I just gave them the news,” Mrs. Riley said as she took off her hat. “Is Clayton unhitching the horses?”
“Yes. I’m glad we were able to go into town by ourselves. You know how overprotective he can be.”
“I think he’s had good reason to be, don’t you?” Mrs. Riley told her with a grave wink.
“Does he always drive you to town?” Bernice asked.
Summer nodded. “Today was the first time we’ve been allowed to go by ourselves since I’ve been here. There was some trouble around here when Elle and I first arrived, but there hasn’t been any for a long time now. I guess he and Spencer finally figured it was safe enough for us to drive alone.”
“I’ve never driven a wagon,” Bernice confessed.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Summer said. “It’s easy to learn. Warren can teach you.”
Bernice had a sudden vision of being trapped on a speeding wagon pulled by runaway horses, Warren swooping in on a mighty steed and coming to her rescue. She almost sighed at the thought but caught herself. “Elle is going to have Spencer invite Warren to supper tonight. I hope that’s all right with you, Mrs. Riley.”
“Of course, dear! As long as he doesn’t bring anyone else with him,” she said, holding her nose.
“Surely he’s back to normal by now,” Summer said, though she was grimacing.
“I’m sure he is,” said Mrs. Riley. “Now let’s let Bernice have a look at what we’ve brought. After all, if you’re going to get married, we need to get started on your dress right away!”
Bernice flinched at the word if. Who knew what Warren was thinking at this point? Had he made up his mind? And if he had, what had he decided? Would she be forced to go home again and start over? She’d tried not to think of that possibility over the last few weeks and instead, using the memory of his kiss to reinforce her hope of becoming the future Mrs. Warren Johnson.
But she still couldn’t be sure … not until she heard it from him.
* * *
As it turned out, Warren declined Spencer’s offer to come to supper. Worse, Bernice knew it had nothing to do with the skunks – Spencer reported that Warren seemed, and smelled, fine.
So she still had no assurance he truly wanted to marry her. The man had just had three weeks to think about it, a long time in her book. Too long. And she was right back where she’d started – barely of interest to the man, having to hope and pray for the best. Had the kiss meant nothing to him?
“Darn skunks …”
“What was that?” Summer asked as she picked up her knitting. Finished with the supper dishes, the women had retreated to the parlor to knit and take a second look at the fabric samples Mrs. Riley had brought home.
“Nothing. I just wish …” Bernice tried to perk herself up. “I wish Warren had come over.”
“Of course you do,” Elle said. “I would imagine that you miss him.”
“Miss him?” Bernice said, “No, that’s not it at all.”
“Really?” Summer asked doubtfully. Then she went pale. “Oh dear …”
“Oh no, is it …?” Elle asked.
“Yes,” Summer said through gritted teeth. She quickly got up and darted from the room.
The others watched her go. “Well, at least now she’s sure,” Mrs. Riley commented. “I wish she’d tell Clayton – I don’t know what she’s waiting for!”
“How come the baby doesn’t ail her in the morning?” Bernice asked. “I thought they always ailed their mamas in the morning.”
“Every child is different, dear,” Mrs. Riley explained. “With Clayton, it was morning, but Spencer was a night owl. I felt miserable in the evenings for a few months!”
Bernice made a face. “Oh dear.”
“Now, don’t you worry about that. You won’t suffer the same for awhile yet – you have to get married first!”
“And I never had much of a problem with being sick,” Elle added. “So you never know.”
“Which reminds me!” Mrs. Riley interjected. “You need to decide which of these fabrics you like best.”
Bernice eyed the small pile on a nearby table. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Riley and Elle looked at her, then glanced at each other. “What’s wrong, dear? You don’t have to sound so sad about it.”
“Mrs. Riley,” Bernice said. “Warren hasn’t made any effort to see me the last three weeks.”
“And with good reason too, I’d say!”
“No, besides that. He didn’t even come yesterday. At this point, I’m not sure he will.”
“Well, why don’t we wait and see? In fact, why don’t we all go into town tomorrow and pick up the fabric together?”
Bernice smiled. “I’m sorry. I just … I don’t want to be disappointed.”
Mrs. Riley leaned forward in her chair, reached over and patted Bernice’s hand. “It’s understandable, dear, after all that’s happened since you’ve been here. But even if Warren has changed his mind, there are plenty of other men. In fact …”
Elle’s eyes widened. “What? What is it? You’ve got that look in your eye!”
Bernice glanced between the two. Mrs. Riley looked positively elated; Elle, horrified. “What?”
“The Weaver men will be in town! Why, you’ll have three more to choose from! If Warren doesn’t come through – and I’m not saying he won’t, dear, but at least you’ll have a backup plan.”
“Ma!” Elle blurted. “You can’t … I mean … Bernice with one of … them?!?”
“Oh, she’ll be fine with either of the twins!” Mrs. Riley said with a wave of her hand. “Or with Daniel, for that matter. Perhaps Daniel most of all!
Bernice froze, her heart in her throat. She’d heard enough about the “Weaver clan” to not want to have anything to do with them. The way Spencer and Clayton talked about them the other night at supper made them sound like barbarians – Visigoths taking a break from attacking the Romans. If she married one of them, would she be living in a cave?
“Now back to the fabric, dear,” Mrs. Riley said with a bright smile.
Bernice gulped, but stared at the samples laid out before her on the table. Her eyes gravitated to a pretty white swatch inlaid with tiny daisies. “That one,” she managed.
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Riley exc
laimed. “Tomorrow we’ll go to town and get what we need! No matter what happens, dear, you’ll be marrying someone very soon!”
Bernice forced a smile. Someone …
* * *
Warren carried the ladder to the next tree, leaned it against the trunk, then scrambled up to check the upper branches. He expected a good yield this year and wanted to make sure each and every tree was as healthy as it could be. It was a huge job to inspect them all, but better safe than sorry.
Another farmer, a few miles out of Nowhere on the opposite side of town, had complained to Grandpa that his trees weren’t doing so well, and the news had sent Warren into a flurry of activity to make sure their orchards weren’t suffering the same thing. Disease happened – and when it did, a farmer often couldn’t do much about it.
He spent several more hours peering into the branches before deciding to call it a day. Besides, it was getting dark, so he didn’t have much choice. He supposed he could’ve waited until morning to get this last section done, but he wanted to be done with the task so he could focus on Bernice again.
Bernice … the poor lady was probably wondering why he hadn’t come to supper. But she had to understand that the life of a farmer wasn’t on a set schedule like a banker’s or a shopkeeper’s. It was seven days a week, sunup to sundown even on good days – and when natural disasters threatened, sometimes round-the-clock. He hoped she was up to it.
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’?”