by Kit Morgan
If anyone needed confidence in that moment, it was Ellie – if only to enjoy herself for the rest of the evening. Perhaps it was all she had the right to ask for. Her number one concern at this point was her son, not the pursuit of a husband. And from the way Julian was staring bug-eyed at Bernice, it looked as though her chances of him becoming one were now in Bernice’s favor, not hers.
“Good evening, everyone,” Bernice said softly as she glided up to them and curtsied. “Doesn’t everything look lovely?”
Julian looked her up and down and nodded, as did the Brocks and Smythes.
“You look lovely this evening, my dear,” said Cecil. “Would you like some punch?”
“I’d love some, thank you,” Bernice answered politely. She looked at the rest of them. “Has anyone eaten yet? I’m half-starv–”
“Ah-ah-ahhh,” warned the Professor.
Bernice straightened and cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m quite famished myself.”
The Professor gave her an approving smile, then nodded at Cecil who smiled back. Julian finally shook himself out of his stupor and stopped gawking. “Bernice, you look … well … stunning!”
Mrs. Brock was still in shock. “Where on earth did you get that dress?”
Professor Hamilton beamed. “Compliments of a lady I was once acquainted with years ago,” he told her with a bow.
All the women gazed at the dress and studied it. True, it was perhaps a few years out of date, but well worth saving. Besides, this was rural Oregon, not Boston. Bernice beamed under their attention. No one seemed to notice when several others decided to join the group.
“Bernice Caulder? Is that you?” Bernard Rudshaw asked in bewilderment.
Bernice turned and gazed up at him. “Hello, Bernard,” she said with a smile. Bernard gaped just as Julian had, and stared at her in stunned silence.
Another young gentleman suddenly appeared and did the same. He was shorter than Bernard, but most people were, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. “Bernice?” he said in shock.
“Why, Jesse Templeton!” Bernice exclaimed with glee. “I heard you were back in town.”
He nodded numbly, his mouth half-open. “Just got in this afternoon,” he said.
Bernard stepped in front of him and held his arm out to Bernice. “Would you, ah … do me the honor of this here dance?”
Professor Hamilton shook his head. “I’m sure she would, young man, if there were any music to dance to.”
Bernard furrowed his brow and listened. “Ah … uh, so … so when there is some, would you do me the honor?”
Betsy smirked and winked at Cecil. “Mm-hmm. What’d I tell ya? This is gonna be some dance.”
Seventeen
Ellie watched as men vied for Bernice’s attention, even the married men. Maybe they only wanted to stare at the amazing transformation, but still, the fact that the onlookers were actually jostling for position made her wonder. Who knew what a nice dress and poise could do for a woman? It wasn’t as if the change was drastic – Ellie could tell that Bernice was still very much Bernice. She struggled to make sure she said the right thing, made the right move. But even Ellie had to admit she was stunning. The girl had just a touch of rouge on her cheeks and lips, and the adornments in her hair were quite fetching.
And it wasn’t the girl’s fripperies that made her stand out that night – as Cecil had pointed out, it was her new-found confidence. She stood and walked as if she had the world at her feet. She wasn’t flaunting it, nor brandishing it like a weapon, just wearing it as naturally as she wore her beautiful dress. Ellie found herself just a little bit jealous.
“Looks like Bernice is the belle of the ball,” Morgan said from behind her.
Ellie looked at him and smiled. “Yes. She’s certainly enjoying herself.”
“I wonder if Bernard and Jess will come to blows over her,” Garrett commented as he joined them.
“Hardly,” Morgan said. “They’ve been friends for years as far as I know.”
“Many a woman has divided a nation,” Garrett replied dryly.
Morgan laughed. “I don’t think Bernice has it in her to start a war – she’s not conceited enough.”
“No, I guess not. But it’ll be interesting to watch what happens.”
Ellie listened to the two men and sighed. Her eyes sought Julian’s, but he was still staring disbelievingly at Bernice, along with everyone else in attendance. She wished he was staring at her like that. Was this where the tide turned, where he shifted his affections toward Bernice?
“Ellie!” Daisy cried as she approached. “You look wonderful!”
Her voice was enough to draw Julian’s attention. He turned as Daisy reached her, and Ellie got her wish – he stared at her in admiration.
Ellie couldn’t help but blush, but his look didn’t have the same effect on her as before – probably because she’d reined her heart in the moment she saw him transfixed by Bernice. One couldn’t be too careful. “Hello,” she greeted Daisy.
Daisy walked a circle around her. “It turned out better than I’d hoped.”
“Yes, you should be proud.”
“As should you. You did half the work,” Daisy pointed out.
The sound of fiddles being tuned caught everyone’s attention, and folks started clapping in anticipation. The dancing was about to get underway. Ellie glanced between Daisy and Julian. “Be that as it may, I’m not as good a seamstress as you. It never would have turned out as nice if I was the only one working on it. Not only that, but I’d still be working on it!”
Daisy laughed, as did Morgan, just as the music started.
Julian stepped closer. “May I have this dance?” he asked gently, as if he was afraid she might run away.
Ellie swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Yes, of course.” What else could she say? She still wanted to dance with him, all insecurities over her future aside.
Bernard, as pledged, got the first dance with Bernice. Morgan, Daisy, Garrett and Ammy also took to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the barn. Children played in the hayloft with some of their older siblings watching over them as the rest of the townsfolk milled about below, dancing or eating.
Ellie missed a step and faltered, bumping into Mrs. Caulder. This was much different from dancing in the Tindles’ kitchen above the mercantile or in Professor Hamilton’s bookshop. “Oh, excuse me, I’m terribly sorry.”
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” Mrs. Caulder snapped. She spun a circle as her husband led her, then noticed who Ellie was dancing with. “Julian Smythe, what are you doing?” she asked accusingly.
“Dancing,” he said gleefully. “What does it look like?”
“Yes, I can see that. But why aren’t you dancing with Bernice?”
Ellie stiffened. Julian must have noticed as he looked right at her. “Because I’m dancing with this beautiful young lady here. In fact, I’d say she was the most beautiful woman at the dance.” He forced his gaze away to look pointedly at Mrs. Caulder. “I might have to dance with her all night.”
Tears stung the back of Ellie’s eyes as his words sunk in. Hadn’t he said the same thing when they danced in the Tindles’ kitchen, that he might have to dance with her all night? But that was before Bernice’s metamorphosis … Get a hold of yourself, Ellie! Why can’t you just trust the man? she thought as he twirled her. He’s looking at you, not Bernice!
Just then, Bernard gave Bernice a twirl – right into the refreshment table. The resulting crash was catastrophic to both the table and Bernice, who ended up doused in punch with the bowl finally settling on her head. “Ohhhh!” she cried as she pulled it off, gasping for air. “Berna-a-a-a-ard!”
The music stopped. Bernard stood stock still, his arm still outstretched, jaw slack at the sight of her drenched head and hair. Punch dripped off her in a steady stream “Oops.” He lowered his arm and swallowed hard. “She just sorta slipped right outta my hand ...”
Bernice shook her head,
sending droplets of punch everywhere. She cringed – either from the cold liquid or his remark, no one knew. “Ohhhh …,” she whined.
Cecil hurried over to the cloakroom/stall, emerging with the professor’s coat. He returned to where she was trying to stand up and placed it around her shoulders as her first tears fell. “Betsy!” he called.
Betsy came over, her own dress dripping from Bernice’s impact. “I’ll take her up to the house.” She put an arm around Bernice. “C’mon, sugar, let’s go get you dried off so you can enjoy the rest of the evening.”
Bernice let out a most unladylike wail before she cut herself off and, with as much dignity as she could muster, let Betsy steer her through the crowd to the barn doors.
Professor Hamilton slapped his forehead as they made their way past him. Bernice looked up and met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Professor. I’ve made a mess of things.”
“No, no, my dear – Bernard made a mess of things. He’s got to learn that a man doesn’t handle a lady the way he does a Clydesdale.”
Bernice smiled through her tears at his remark and nodded, her lower lip still trembling.
“You and Betsy go on up to the house and dry off. The party will still be here when you get back.”
“Mm-hmm, that’s for sure. Best go help Cecil clean up and serve folks, Professor.”
“I’ll do that. Run along now.”
Bernice gave him one last smile through her tears, and then let Betsy lead her away.
Eunice Caulder stormed through the crowd after them. Professor Hamilton, knowing trouble when he saw it, quickly grabbed her arm as she tried to pass, swinging her around with enough force to almost yank her off her feet. “May I have this dance, Madame?” he asked as he dragged her toward the dance floor.
“Unhand me, you ruffian!”
“I hardly resemble a ruffian, my beautiful lady,” he retorted.
“Wha … what did you say?”
“I said, beautiful lady. Are you going to say I’m wrong?”
Cecil grinned as the Professor expertly disarmed the woman. She said nothing more as he led her around the dance floor with enough grace to elicit a few oohs and ahhs from the townsfolk. Unsolicited admiration was always a great silencer to a woman of her ilk.
The incident was soon brushed from people’s minds by the music, the dancing and the food. Mrs. Edmonson sent Gabe, her oldest, to check on Betsy and Bernice – she was occupied with little Ella and with everyone complimenting her and Mr. Edmonson on the decorations and their barn. Some people were even talking about holding another dance there, perhaps at harvest time.
And Julian steered Ellie out the barn doors and into the moonlight as they continued to dance. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting you to myself for a moment.”
Her heart stopped. “Oh. I see.”
“No, you don’t.”
“What?”
“Ellie,” he began and stopped. He took both her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do all night.”
She swallowed hard. “What’s that?”
Julian kissed her hands. “Tell you some things,” he said softly.
Ellie felt herself begin to sweat, despite the chill in the air. Here it comes …
He leaned closer. “Yes. I know I haven’t been as attentive to you as I’d like this last week or so. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“Oh,” she said, a little disappointed.
“I’ve had to make some decisions this last week that are going to affect my family. And you …”
She stared at him, afraid to speak, afraid to speculate.
“Ellie,” he whispered. Her held her hands before him, kissed them again, then went down on one knee.
Ellie squeaked in alarm.
Julian chuckled. “Please, don’t let me scare you.”
She giggled.
“Don’t laugh at me either. This is … well, all new to me.”
“Julian … oh Julian …” She was so happy she could cry. He was proposing!
Julian cleared his throat. “Ellie Sampson, I haven’t a lot to offer … I …” He stopped, stiffened, and turned.
Half the townspeople were leaning out the barn doors, watching them in silence.
Julian sighed heavily and shook his head in resignation. “Can everyone hear me all right?” he sarcastically asked the crowd.
“You could speak a tad louder,” commented Garrett.
“Hurry it up, will ya?” shouted Morgan. “It’s cold out here!”
Julian rolled his eyes, then gave Ellie a pleading look. “Please say yes – and be sure to say it loud.”
Ellie thought she might float off into the night, she was so happy. All the worry she’d harbored over the last week about Julian and Davey was banished. “Oh Julian …you … you haven’t asked me anything yet.”
“Oh, right. Um … Ellie Sampson, will you…”
“Ma! Pa! Come quick!” Gabe sprinted across the barnyard, almost colliding with Julian and Ellie on the way to his parents.
“Gabe!” his mother cried. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Betsy! And … and …” Gabe fell to his hands and knees and gulped air.
“Slow down, son,” said Mr. Edmonson. He looked up as Julian scrambled to his feet. “I’m awful sorry, Julian!”
“Pa!” Gabe gasped.
“What is it, son? What’s got you all fired up?”
“And what about Betsy?” asked Cecil as he pushed his way through the crowd.
“Men … there were men … they got into the house … and they took ‘em!”
“What?” asked Julian as he put his arm around Ellie, who’d come to join them. “What men?”
“Don’t know … I was in the kitchen gettin’ … gettin’ more cookies to bring to the barn … they marched right in through the front door ...”
Cecil paled. “Good God!” He fell onto his knees in front of the child and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Do you know who they were?”
“Nossir … ain’t never saw ‘em before ...”
Cecil looked frantically about. “Ammy! Ammy, where are you?”
“I’m right here, Father!” she called as she fought her way to the front of the throng. “What happened?”
He looked up at her in relief. “Thank the Lord you’re all right.” He turned back to Gabe. “What did they look like? Were they well-dressed?”
“Well dressed?” Gabe asked, clearly frightened at this point.
“He means, were they wearing fancy duds?” Morgan chimed in. He exchanged a quick look with Julian, who could only shrug.
“Yessir, they was. I hid in the kitchen. They was quiet-like, and quick. Them two women didn’t … didn’t even get a chance to holler … I’m sorry, Pa, but I was too scared!”
“It’s all right, boy,” his father told him. “Where’d they go?”
“Yonder up the road,” Gabe said and pointed.
“Oh, good heavens – this is my fault, MY FAULT!” Cecil cried.
“Father!” Ammy gasped, then put a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob.
Garrett pulled her into his arms. “Cecil, what’s this all about? Do you know who these men are?” Garrett suddenly paled. “Oh no, are they …”
“Yes,” Cecil said and closed his eyes. “They’re Reginald Van Cleet’s men. They probably came to take Ammy.”
“Ammy?” Mrs. Caulder barked. “What does she have to do with Betsy and … oh good Lord! Bernice! My Bernice has been taken?!”
Cecil opened his eyes, his expression grave. “We haven’t a moment to lose - we’ve got to get them back before it’s too late! Who knows what they’ll do when they find out they’ve got the wrong woman?” He glanced around at the men. “Who’s with me?!”
Julian, Morgan and Garrett looked at each other, then at Cecil. “Let’s go,” Garrett said for the group. Ammy’s hands flew to her mouth again as he kissed her on the cheek, then followed his friends and Ceci
l.
Horace Vander shoved his way outside. “What’s going on here?”
“There’s been an abduction!” Mrs. Caulder screeched. “Do something!”
“What? Abduction?!” Horace boomed. “Who the Sam Hill they take?”
“My Bernice! And your Betsy!”
“Good God! Somebody get the sheriff!”
“We don’t have a sheriff!” Mr. Tindle shouted from the back of the crowd. “He ain’t here!”
“Blast!” barked Horace. “Never a lawman around when you need one!”
“We’ve never needed one!” someone yelled. “Why do ya think he went up to Portland to visit his kin?”
“Stop wasting time, Horace!” Mercy cried as she fought her way to him. “Save Betsy!”
Horace jumped at her words and took off after the other men, with Professor Hamilton and Pastor Adams not far behind. Soon others joined them and a posse was formed. Julian, Garrett and Morgan unhitched horses from their wagons and mounted them. The older men climbed up onto their own wagons and waited for Cecil’s instructions. He conversed with Professor Hamilton and Mayor Vander, who was frantically dabbing his face with a handkerchief.
“Are we ready?” Cecil called out.
“Ready!” yelled Bernard as he rode up to Cecil on his big bay horse. He glanced around at the other men. “Uh, hey, Mister …”
Cecil and the Professor climbed into the Professor’s buggy. “What is it, son?”
“Shouldn’t we be takin’ guns with us?”
Cecil and Professor Hamilton exchanged the same look of panic. “Guns!” Cecil cried.
Professor Hamilton sighed. “The one drawback to living in a peaceful town – no firearms at the ready!”
“Now what are we supposed to do?” barked Horace.
Julian rode into their midst. “We’re wasting time! Grab anything you can use as a weapon!”
And so the men of Independence did just that.
* * *
“You imbecile! What were you thinking?!”
A thin, well-dressed man held Bernice against his chest, a hand clamped over her mouth. “Me? What about you? Who is that?”