Once in a Blue Moon

by Diane Darcy

  Mrs. Wright studied the pie. “Oh. Oh, my dear. Are you entering the contest?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Just set it right here, why don’t you?” Mrs. Wright indicated an empty position next to the other pies, then glanced away, obviously uncomfortable.

  Melissa quickly saw the reason. The pie had looked much better on the kitchen table. Now it appeared over-brown and coarse compared to the golden, prettily decorated crusts on the other pastries. Embarrassingly coarse.

  Melissa considered sneaking her name off the bottom of the pie tin where she’d pasted her signature with flour and water, but it was her only pie dish and she might not get it back.

  She set the pan down with a mental shrug. Nothing she could do about it now. Besides, not all was lost. She’d made some other food as well, so didn’t need to feel totally humiliated. “Jessica, hand me that plate, will you?”

  Jessica held out the platter of fried chicken.

  Melissa took the dish of cold meat, untied the ends of the cloth and presented it to Mrs. Wright.

  Mrs. Wright smiled brightly. “Set it there?” She indicated a place down the table with platters of chicken.

  Again, the other food looked much better by comparison. Her offering looked tough, and perhaps the tiniest bit burnt around the edges.

  Feeling a little deflated, she set the chicken down and wondered if the light was poor in the cabin. She’d been under the delusion she was a good cook, but her offerings looked unappetizing next to the rest of the food.

  She lifted her chin. So what? It was still edible, which was more than she could have claimed a month-and-a-half ago. Anyway, she still had one more item to offer, and she certainly hadn’t overcooked it. “Jeremy, hand me that tray, will you?”

  Jeremy passed the tray.

  Melissa glanced quickly up and down the food-filled tables, unwrapped the large plate holding nicely arranged, assorted, chopped vegetables, and presented it to Mrs. Wright. “It looks like I’m the only one who brought a vegetable tray.”

  The reverend’s wife took the dish, her mouth opening and shutting a couple of times before she finally commented, “Raw vegetables? Why yes, I do believe you’re right. This is the only one.” She smiled widely.

  Melissa wasn’t fooled. Mrs. Wright was less than thrilled with the produce, but Melissa still felt good about the offering. Considering the amount of fried foods and desserts weighing down the tables, it really was amazing the people here weren’t dropping like flies from heart disease. Perhaps her contribution would be a good influence. It might even save a life. She looked at the blue ribbons on the edge of the table. She really did deserve a prize.

  After recovering the food, she moved out of the way so Hannah could set a pie down, but Melissa deliberately didn’t look at Hannah’s creation. She didn’t want to look at the food anymore. Baking contests were stupid.

  “Hannah Goodwin? Is that you?” asked Mrs. Wright.

  Melissa turned to see Hannah nodding shyly.

  Mrs. Wright gaped. “You look wonderful! And your dress! It’s beautiful!”

  Hannah blushed, and ran one hand down the front of her skirt. “Thank you.”

  Melissa chest expanded. Even with her less-than-fashionable hat, Hannah did look stunning. The dress was a masterpiece, and her bun was no longer scraped back, but loose and soft, with some height above her forehead. Very attractive. She looked years younger.

  And Amanda’s dress had turned out nicely as well.

  Melissa really deserved a ribbon.

  “Is that everything?” asked Sarah. “Then follow me, everyone.”

  Their group, consisting of ladies and children, moved away from the tables of food to wend through the crowded park, only to stop in front of a display of colorful jars filled with fruit and jam. There were ribbons off to one side for after the judging--as if anyone cared--and more than a few excited ladies checked out the competition.

  Sarah entered the contest with a jar of jam, Amanda and Emma with some fruit, and they immediately set about discussing their chances of winning.

  Totally losing interest, Melissa glanced away to take in her surroundings. More people resided in the small town than she’d realized and all seemed determined to have a good time. Laughter punctuated the air and a hokey-sounding band played in the background.

  Children jumped in grain sacks across green grass while others cheered. Two men raced canoes across the pond while young ladies watched from the shore, and small children on hands and knees searched through sawdust for prizes. Many people had spread blankets to claim a spot. Melissa acknowledged that, hick as it was, she was excited.

  Realizing her kids had disappeared, she searched the crowd and finally spotted them feeding ducks at the edge of the pond. They fit right in with the other children, their clothing and hair exactly in style.

  Melissa glanced down at her borrowed dress and realized she fit in too. Amanda had loaned her the pale pink dress, and Melissa had added a temporary ruffle to the hem and cuffs for length. Melissa grinned. Perhaps loaned was the wrong word. The ladies had practically forced her into it when they’d realized she had nothing new for the picnic.

  Melissa moved to get a better view of the children, and Hannah, sticking like glue, bumped into her from behind.

  Melissa lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”

  Hannah glanced around, obviously nervous and uncomfortable. “I wonder if Mrs. MacPherson is here yet?”

  Hannah was looking for an escape route, but didn’t realize Melissa wouldn’t let her find one. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon enough.”

  Hannah ducked her head.

  Melissa linked arms with her, not something she’d ever done with a woman before, but it felt comfortable. “It’s okay. You look great, and we’re going to have fun today.”

  Hannah clung and didn’t look convinced.

  Finally finished with their pathetic discussion about who might win what prize, Sarah, Emma and Amanda joined them.

  “Where are the men?” Sarah searched the crowd.

  Amanda spotted them, waved, and led the way.

  Their husbands had found a shady spot at the edge of the crowd, and spread out four patchwork quilts and set baskets on top.

  Richard held out an arm for Melissa and she slid into his embrace just in time for the mayor to start his speech.

  “Having fun?” asked Richard.

  Melissa shrugged. No need to tell him she wouldn’t be winning a ribbon today.

  The crowd calmed to listen to the welcome. The mayor bragged forever about what a great town it was, and finally introduced the picnic committee. The announcement that fireworks and dancing would come later met with applause. He concluded with the statement that it was time to eat and that the contest winners would be announced afterward. The band immediately started up a jaunty tune.

  “Well,” said Melissa. “Let’s not wander too far. I need to see if I won the pie baking contest.”

  Sudden silence engulfed the group of ladies.

  Glances were exchanged.

  Melissa sighed loudly, shook her head, and lifted her hands. “I’m kidding!”

  Amanda, grinning, put a hand to her chest. “I told you to brush the top with egg whites and check the color often.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. Who ever heard of smearing runny eggs on pie?” Melissa put a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Next time I’m asking Hannah for advice.”

  Hannah blushed.

  Sully and his friends showed up and Sully tipped his hat, and made a silly half-bow. “Ladies. You’re looking lovelier than ever this afternoon.”

  Henry, copying Sully, tipped his hat also. “Ladies.”

  Oh brother, ladies’ men they were not.

  Jed, bear-like as ever, but looking more cleaned up than usual ignored the others. “Mrs. Kendal. It’s real good to see you.”

  “Thank you.” Wanting to distract him from his silly infatuation, she waved a hand in the air. “You’ve met H
annah Goodwin, haven’t you? She works for Mrs. MacPherson. Hannah, this is Jed Peterson.”

  Jed whipped off his hat to reveal slicked back hair. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  Hannah, obviously flustered, nodded and looked down. Melissa quickly looked from one to the other.

  Jed didn’t take his gaze away from the top of Hannah’s head. He looked...awestruck.

  Hannah, handing out plates to the children, sneeked a peek at Jed.

  Who was practically drooling.

  Jed was smitten with Hannah?

  Hannah intrigued with Jed?

  Melissa bit back a smile and tried not to stare at the bashful couple. But really, it was hard not to feel proud. She was good. One hour after dragging Hannah out of the house, and the girl already had a potential boyfriend. Of course, Jed wasn’t for Hannah. Too uncouth. But she could practice on him; hone her social skills.

  Everyone stood, plates were dug out of baskets and their group moved toward the food laden tables.

  Melissa walked beside Richard, Hannah on her other side.

  Jed quickly offered Hannah his arm. “Ma’am?”

  Hannah glanced at Melissa, then to Jed.

  Melissa wondered if she should intervene. She didn’t want to scare Hannah off when she was barely coming out of her shell. But really, Hannah didn’t look too upset.

  Hesitantly, Hannah placed her hand on his forearm.

  Jed smiled down at her and they walked ahead.

  Melissa exchanged a smile with Richard.

  “Hannah and Jed? Interesting,” whispered Richard.

  Keeping an eye on the couple in front of them, Melissa shrugged. “I might not win the pie contest, but it seems I’m not without my talents.”

  “Matchmaking?”

  Melissa shrugged. “You never know.”

  One thing was for sure. She really did deserve a blue ribbon.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  An hour later, most of their group, well fed and exuberant, headed off in various directions to mingle, dance, and play. Melissa sat on the quilt beside Hannah, determined to make sure she was comfortable.

  This friendship thing was harder than she’d realized. She wasn’t cut out to chaperon. It was embarrassing to listen to Jed’s drivel. But all in all, things seemed to be going okay. At least Hannah appeared able to stomach his odd brand of courtship.

  Richard stood up. “I’m going for pie--”

  ”Don’t you dare leave me,” Melissa whispered.

  Richard grinned. “You want anything?”

  Melissa widened her eyes, and motioned with her head, trying to convey her displeasure at being left with the courting couple. Richard’s grin widened and he raised both brows. “Apple? Peach?”

  “Nothing for me,” Melissa gave in to the inevitable. He was leaving her alone with them. Her eyes narrowed. “But you’d better be getting a piece of my pie.”

  Richard eyes widened innocently. “But honey, I always get to eat your cooking. I should give someone else a chance to try it.”

  “Come back without mine and die. The crust is too brown. No one else will eat it, and I’ll be humiliated if I have to take the whole thing home.”

  Richard shook his head and sighed loudly. “In that case, I guess it’s my duty.”

  Melissa tried to hit him. “Make sure you hurry.”

  Richard avoided her fist, laughed, and left to get pie.

  Melissa realized she was smiling. She glanced at Jed and Hannah next to her on the blanket, then quickly away, trying to ignore Jed’s feeble attempt at conversation. Did he really think Hannah wanted to discuss the proper way to dig a fence-post hole? But regardless, she had to give him points for the passionate way he discussed the subject. And strangely enough, Hannah did seem fascinated. Perhaps Jed knew more about nineteenth century women than she gave him credit for.

  Instead, she amused herself by studying the clothes others were wearing. Would Bernie and Xavier laugh their heads off if she presented them with a line of western wear? Probably. She’d laugh too, if--

  A hand grasped her wrist and she was hauled to her feet.

  Curly Jenkins grinned down into her face. “Hello there, little lady. Promised me a dance, remember?”

  Slightly breathless, Melissa regained her balance and shook out her skirt. “No,” she said pointedly.

  Curly laughed. “Feisty as ever, I see. I suppose I’d better do this right.”

  He dropped her wrist, stepped back and bowed. “Melissa,” he winked at her.

  She glared.

  “I mean, Mrs. Kendal,” he chuckled. Apparently he thought himself hilarious. “I’d be honored if you’d dance with me.” His eyes sparkled. “Pretty please?”

  Melissa was hard pressed not to smile into his handsome, good-natured face. If she were honest, she felt a bit flattered. Here she was, certainly not looking her best, but the young guy acted like she was a runway beauty. What would one dance hurt? Besides, it would serve Richard right if she weren’t here when he returned.

  She glanced at Hannah. She’d be all right for a few minutes, wouldn’t she? At worst, Jed would simply bore her to death. “Hannah? I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Hannah nodded, and really, she did look fine. And it wasn’t as if she were alone with Jed. Sarah and Emma chatted on the next blanket, Amanda’s seven-month-old boy asleep between them.

  Curly led her across the grass to the crowded patch of lawn serving as the dance floor. She placed a hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and his fingers settled at her waist.

  Curly nodded to someone behind her and the band stopped mid-tune to play a waltz.

  You had to admire a guy who planned.

  It took a few steps, but she quickly caught on.

  “Pleasant day,” said Curly.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Though not as pleasant as your beautiful face.”

  Amused, Melissa dropped her gaze. “Why, thank you, kind sir.” Her attempt at imitating Emma’s southern accent was a poor one.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman here. Your eyes are like pieces of green jade that shine in the sunlight. Your skin, like pearls.”

  Oh, boy. Overkill. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Romeo was going to fall off the runway. “Ah, thank you. Let’s just dance, shall we?”

  He led her around another couple to the center of the crowd. “Your hair is beautiful. So daring. I love how you boldly defy convention and go without a hat.”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “I’ll buy you one,” he swiftly inserted. “Your husband doesn’t take good enough care of you.”

  She arched a brow. “I thought you said I looked good without a hat?”

  “You do! You’re so beautiful. And so sensitive and refined.”Melissa’s mouth twitched. Okay, she had to admit there was a part of her that was enjoying this. Younger man, the whole awestruck schoolboy thing. “You really don’t know anything about me.”

  “But I’d like to. Our souls already meet on a higher plane. I feel it.”

  “Funny that I don’t feel anything then, isn’t it?” She looked around for Richard, but didn’t see him through the other dancers. “Of course, the fact that I’m in love with my husband might be keeping my feet firmly on the ground.”

  Curly’s lip turned up in a sneer. “Admit it, there is nothing between you. No real connection like with us.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m so connected to Richard that sometimes it feels like we must have met in another time.” Melissa grinned at her own wit.

  Curly sulked for a while.

  Melissa was actually enjoying his company and his effusive compliments. It was a salve to her bruised ego since she didn’t win the cooking contest and certainly wasn’t the best dressed. She caught a glimpse of Hannah, standing with Jed and the town seamstress.

  Ha. The minute Melissa’s back was turned, the redheaded virago was studying her work. No surprise there. She was no doubt wondering how
to copy Hannah’s dress.

  Curly’s big chest expanded. “I think about you all the time. I’ve written another poem. Can I recite it for your pleasure?”

  Oh dear, not again. One taste of his poetry had been enough. And at least the cabin had been semi-private. In a crowd, the cringe factor would increase dramatically. “Please don’t.”

  “You’re a beauty and so very fine, I wish we were together and that you were always mine.”

  Had he raised his voice, or was it just her imagination? Either way, heat warmed her cheeks. She never should have danced with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Melissa looked around at the other dancers; some were definitely staring. “Look, I’m really not comfortable--”

  “You are different from other women I’ve seen--”

  He’d definitely raised his voice that time. “You need to stop.” Melissa whispered.

  “--If we were together, we’d be happy as a pot of beans.”

  Startled, Melissa huffed out a laugh. “A pot of beans? Well, at least it rhymes.”

  Curly grinned, obviously pleased he’d made her laugh. “I’m still workin’ on the poem. But I mean it with all my heart and soul, Melissa. I love you.”

  She blew out a breath, and looked around for rescue. His fantasy was getting a little too weird for her. Where was Richard? “Look--”

  Curly stopped dancing and leaned down to kiss her.

  What was he doing? Melissa quickly put a hand to his mouth. He kissed her fingers, and there was slobber involved.

  “Yuck!” Melissa jerked her hand away and wiped it on his chest. “That’s it, I’m outta here.”

  Thankfully, the music ended.

  Curly tightened his grip on her waist and reclaimed her hand. “Let’s dance again.” He signaled to the band and another waltz started.

  “No.”

  “Just one more time.”

  Melissa tried to pull her hand out of his. “I said no!” She whispered the word, not wanting to draw more attention from the other dancers.

  He wouldn’t let go.

  Did the guy have a death wish? “Mr. Jenkins. I’m leaving the dance floor. Find another partner.”

  “You’re the only one I want.”

  “Then you have a problem.” Melissa struggled.