by Kit Morgan
“Wouldn’t she? I’ve seen the look of a desperate mother before. If you ask me, Mrs. Overton is determined to marry poor Martha off and isn’t beyond something underhanded to do it.”
Elizabeth gawked at him. “Well, then I guess there’s only one thing to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We need to make sure you’re never alone.”
13
The day of the picnic, everyone in Cutter’s Creek was more than a little excited. Like the Christmas Festival the year before, this was a first for the town, and, everyone hoped, not the last. As the town grew, so did everyone’s hopes and dreams for a bright future.
Elizabeth was excited too, but also knew she had an extra responsibility: protecting Bart from the Overtons. “Abigail!” she called as she hurried into the mercantile. “Quick! I’m out of sugar and have two more pies to bake!”
Abigail popped up from behind the counter. “Elizabeth! My goodness, you scared the wadding out of me. I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“Sugar, Abigail?”
Abigail saw the look on Elizabeth’s face. “Land sakes, you’d think this was a matter of life and death.”
“In a manner of speaking, it is,” she said quietly.
Abigail’s eyes widened with interest. “What’s going on?”
Elizabeth glanced this way and that. “Martha Overton. She won’t leave poor Bart alone.”
“Bart?”
“Mr. Brown?” she prompted.
“Ohhhh, yes, of course. Mrs. Overton has been hinting that he’s going to propose to her.”
“What? It’s come to that?!”
Abigail looked confused. “Where have you been? Everyone knows it’s all talk, but still …”
“I’ve been so busy between the shop and this picnic, I haven’t had time to keep up on the whispers. Neither has Bart, I suspect.”
Abigail smiled and began scooping sugar. “Now, isn’t Bart taking you to the picnic?”
“Taking me? Why on earth would he?”
“Because you both work at the dress shop? Because the dress shop has a prize entered and because you’re both in charge of several events?” Abigail weighed the sack she’d just been filling. “One pound enough?”
“Better make it two.”
Abigail measured more into the sack and tied it up with string. “Best get to your pies.”
Elizabeth paid her, nodded and turned to leave.
“And make sure you stay on that man’s arm! Then there’ll be no doubt as to who he’s with.”
Elizabeth reached the door and turned. She had to admit, that was a good idea. She’d figured standing next to him during the down times between events, if they had any, would be enough. But why take chances? “I’ll suggest it.”
“Suggest it? Just do it!”
Elizabeth went out the door. She’d hardly slept last night thinking about the best way to deter Martha Overton from pulling Bart into a compromising position. In the week since Bart told her what he thought the woman might do, she’d been panicked. What if Martha managed to get away with it? Hopefully the people of Cutter’s Creek would just laugh her off. But if something happened, and Rev. Latsch sided with Mrs. Overton and told them they had to marry … good heavens, he might have to leave town! She hurried into the dress shop, headed upstairs to her apartment, stopped on the landing and stared blankly at her door. Her heart fell to her toes and her hands grew cold. “No,” she whispered. “He can’t leave.” She clutched the sack of sugar to her chest and tried to breathe, but the thought of Bart leaving Cutter’s Creek had locked her chest tight. “Oh no…”
She shook herself, struggled to find her key inside her reticule, pulled it out and jammed it into the lock. Once inside she put the sugar in the kitchen, went into the parlor and fell into the nearest chair. A small part of her brain nagged at her: stop thinking the worst. It’s not like he’s going to up and die on you.
“Alexander,” she whispered. Yet, this time when she’d said his name, she felt no sadness, no remorse, no grief. It was just a name from her past. Well!
“Okay, Lizzy, you’re being ridiculous.” She got up, tossed her shawl across the back of the chair and went into the kitchen to finish her pies.
“What are you going to do?” Eldon asked as he and Bart left the café.
“I don’t know yet.”
Eldon’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Don’t you? Ask the woman to marry you and be done with it. Worry about the rest later.”
Bart shook his head. He’d gone back and forth over the matter for a week. Finally, he’d had to speak to someone about it, if only to confirm what was in his heart. After all, he hadn’t been sure he was capable of falling in love again. But after spending so much time with her, he’d told Eldon how she made him feel, how he saw things more clearly than ever before. The woman had re-ignited his dreams, and he wanted her to be a part of them.
Did she want to be a part of them? He had no idea. A major sticking point.
“Bart, listen – what have you got to lose?” Eldon went on, pulling him from his thoughts. “At least ask. If she says no … well, then you know.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am. Besides, everyone in town knows the two of you are perfect for each other. The only ones who hadn’t up until now were the two of you!”
Bart laughed. “Right on that score too.” He sighed. “What a fool I’ve been. All this time and she was right here.”
“All along,” Eldon added. “Has she realized it yet?”
“No idea.”
“Then tell her,” Eldon insisted. “Today.”
Bart nodded and smiled. “All right, I will.”
Eldon slapped him on the back as they headed down the boardwalk. “Good man. We’ll expect a wedding sometime after the picnic.”
“One step at a time, friend!” Bart laughed.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to rush you. Let’s go gather what we need for the games.”
“Good idea. Then maybe I won’t be so nervous.”
“Telling a woman you’re in love with her shouldn’t be that nerve-wracking,” Eldon said as they walked.
“Unless you’re the one doing the telling,” Bart countered. Eldon laughed and they continued on their way, right past the tiny alley between the café and the mercantile.
In the shadows of the alley, Martha Overton’s heart was thundering like a buffalo herd. “Oh my word! Wait until I tell Mother!” She lifted her skirts and ran – as ladylike as she could – all the way home. Their prayers had been answered!
“My oh my, will you look at all that food!” Emma exclaimed as she saw the long row of tables. They were covered with cakes, pies, fried chicken, sliced beef, pork ribs, corn on the cob, hard-boiled eggs, roasted potatoes and vegetables, biscuits and rolls, salads and a few things no one could identify, but they sure smelled good!
“Remember to pace yourself, Emma,” Aggie warned. “You don’t want to get fat.”
“Tell that to the baby. I can’t believe how hungry I’ve been of late.”
Elizabeth giggled. “You’d better listen to Aggie.”
“Fine.” Emma grumbled, rolling her eyes. She looked at Aggie. “Then you make me a plate.”
Aggie laughed and headed for the tables.
“Has your appetite increased that much?” Elizabeth asked.
“It really hit me last week. The first four or five months I couldn’t stand the sight of food. The next few, I could eat normally. Now it’s all I think about. Just wait until it’s your turn – you’ll know what I mean.”
Elizabeth decided to ignore that last part. “Maybe it’s because your time is so close?”
“I have no idea. I just know I’m hungry all the time.” Emma shrugged, looked at her huge belly and smiled. “You’d better wait until after the picnic to make an appearance, little one. I want to watch the games.”
Elizabeth studied her friend. “Let’s hope so
.”
“Maybe I should have entered the pie-eating contest,” Emma mused.
“Do you think you’d have a chance for first prize?” came a man’s voice.
The women turned to find Bart in a rich brown corduroy suit and matching hat. He was handsome, and Elizabeth had to remind herself to breathe. She cleared her throat. “There you are. I was beginning to wonder when you’d show up.”
“I had a few last-minute things to gather for the games. Eggs, for one. Believe it or not, I forgot them and had to go back to the house.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Emma said. “I was supposed to remind you.”
“No harm done.” He spied Aggie approaching, a plate in her hand. “Good grief, you’ve enough food there to feed an army!”
“No, just Emma and the little one,” she said with a smile. “Here you go. Doc says he’ll be here all day so we know where to find him in case we need him.”
Emma’s eyes lit up at the plate of food. “Good to know.” She took it from Aggie and looked around for a place to sit.
“Here, there’s a table with some chairs in the shade.” Bart took the plate from her. “I’ll escort you there. You shouldn’t stand.”
“Thank you, Bart.” Emma took his free arm.
Elizabeth and Aggie watched him steer his charge toward a huge maple tree. Tables had been placed beneath the branches so folks could eat in the shade. “I thought you weren’t going to give her so much food,” Elizabeth inquired.
Aggie smiled. “Doc said it’ll probably be the nicest meal she has before the baby comes. He’s not sure she’ll make it through the picnic.”
“Neither is Emma.” Elizabeth watched as Bart helped her to sit, and sighed.
“Quite the gentleman,” Aggie remarked, followed by a long sigh of her own. “Almost perfect in every way.”
“Will you stop?” Elizabeth said.
“Why? It’s the truth.”
“Not today, Aggie, please.”
Aggie sighed again, this time in resignation. “Very well, but I think you’re being silly, living your life alone when there’s a perfectly good man right under your nose. Literally. Lizzy, take the chance while you have one.”
“Chance?”
Aggie’s eyes shot skyward as she groaned. “To fall in love. Don’t be afraid to. At least spend the day with him.”
“I was planning to do that anyway. Someone has to protect him from Martha Overton.”
“Is she still sweet on him?”
“Any sweeter and we’d have to serve her up on the dessert table.”
Aggie fell into a fit of giggles as Bart made his way back to them. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Elizabeth said quickly. “Shall we get to work?”
“Yes, we’d better. I need to check and make sure all the pies for the pie-eating contest have been set aside. Mrs. Todd was putting them on the regular dessert table earlier.”
“Oh dear,” Aggie said sadly. “She is starting to get a bit dotty.”
Elizabeth took Bart’s arm and wrapped hers around it. “Let’s go check on things.”
“Lay on, MacDuff,” Bart quoted, which confused Aggie but made Elizabeth chuckle as they left. When they reached the table for the contest he counted the pies. “Looks like they’re all here.”
“Twelve?” Elizabeth said in surprise. “You think you’ll have that many contestants?”
“It’s a pie-eating contest, Lizzy. Who doesn’t want to participate in one?”
She stared at him. It was the first time he’d used her nickname. Of course he’d heard others use it while in her company, Aggie mostly. But he’d never …
“Something the matter?” he asked.
She shook her head, her eyes locked on his. “Oh, nothing.”
He walked on to another table. The picnic was being held around the church, the contests in a large clearing behind it. Children ran here and there laughing. Men boasted as they unloaded wagons, helping with the setup. Rev. Latsch was rushing around, making sure everything was in its proper place before things got underway.
Elizabeth looked at her arm entwined with Bart’s before gazing at the townsfolk arranging tables, chairs and blankets for the day. They were setting them up along the clearing, preparing to be spectators.
Bart smiled. “Look at all these people. I see folks I’ve never seen before.”
“Not everyone comes into the dress shop.”
“More potential customers.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Oh, stop that.” She playful slapped his arm.
He was about to reply when they heard a wail. Both turned, as did a few other folks, but they saw nothing. “What was that?” Elizabeth asked. “Did a child get hurt?” People around them were asking each other the same thing.
“I don’t know,” Bart said. “Let’s find out.” He guided her in the direction they’d heard the sound, went around a wagon, but still saw nothing. Just more people milling about, getting ready for the picnic to start.
Rev. Latsch climbed up on several bales of hay in the back of a wagon. “Citizens of Cutter’s Creek!” he shouted. The townsfolk within earshot stilled, prompting others not so close to do the same. Soon all was relatively quiet. Rev. Latsch smiled. “Welcome to the first annual Cutter’s Creek Picnic!”
A cheer went up, and it took the good reverend a moment or two of hand-waving to get everyone to quiet down again. “Now, everybody have a good time and be sure to join in the contests. The food tables are over there.” He pointed toward the church. “And the contests will be held behind the building. Picnic wherever you want in between!”
Another cheer went up.
“It’s a good thing Cutter’s Creek is so small,” Bart said. “Or this would be impossible to oversee.”
“We’ll see what happens when it grows,” Elizabeth replied.
“Grows?”
“Of course. This is the first town picnic. What will we do when it doubles or triples in size?”
“Then Rev. Latsch is going to have to find another place to hold it. We’re taking up most of the room behind the church as is.”
“Would that be a bad thing?” she asked. “To see the town grow?”
He turned to face her. “No,” he said as his eyes roamed her face. “Not at all.”
Good heavens, she thought, is he going to kiss me? She swallowed hard. “It’ll never be Boston…”
He drew back. “Boston? Who cares about Boston?”
She suddenly felt like her feet weren’t touching the ground. “Never mind, then.”
“Come, let’s check on the rest of the games.”
She smiled. “All right.” As he led her toward the prizes on display, she chastised herself – Lizzy, you dolt! He looked like he wanted to kiss you! What are you so afraid of? But part of her was rejoicing. He clearly had no intention of bolting for the East anytime soon.
When they got there he fiddled with the blue gingham day dress the shop had donated. Elizabeth watched him, still thinking. He really is a good match for you, you know. Maybe as good as Alexander … She put a hand to her mouth with the realization. Perhaps he really is my second chance. I just need to let love find a way. He wants it to – you can see it in his …
“Elizabeth?”
“Huh? What?”
Bart was more than a little concerned. “Is something wrong?”
She looked helpless as she realized exactly what was wrong – and that she couldn’t say it right there, right then. But she was still thinking it. Wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Bart Brown, you great oaf – I’ve fallen in love with you!
14
In the dress Bart had made for her, Martha tore around the back of a wagon and crouched. She chanced a peek through the wheel spokes and spied the lower half of Bart’s body. Along with that woman’s. Her upper lip curled in jealousy. Why was he allowing his employer to cling to him like that? Disgusting! When she first spied them, she’d let out a gasp, then a strangled sob. And now h
ere she was, hiding like a … a…
“Miss Overton, whatever are you doing down there?” Estelle Todd asked.
She jumped to her feet, her hat slightly askew. “N-nothing, ma’am. I was just, um …” Her eyes darted around. “… checking my shoe.”
“Is everything all right with it?”
She gave a vigorous nod, loosening her hat further. It slid down over her face, and she shoved it back up.
Mrs. Todd eyed her curiously, then smiled. “Give my best to your mother, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She grinned.
Mrs. Todd, unaccustomed to such a sight, gave her one last look before she walked away.
Martha breathed a sigh of relief, then spun on her heel to see where the object of her affection had gotten to. “Oh no! Where’d they go?” She turned a full circle, but neither were anywhere in sight. Nearby, she heard the Rev. Latsch clear his throat. Best she find Bart and see what was going on. After listening to him declare his love for her to Eldon Judrow that morning, she’d been beside herself. She hadn’t even had a chance to tell her mother.
“Mother! That’s it – I’ll find mother first.” She hurried to the main eating area as Rev. Latsch welcomed everyone to the picnic. She’d been so excited earlier about what she’d heard that she’d run home to give Mother the news, forgetting that Mother was already in town. Her father, of course, did what he usually did when confronted by any sort of outburst – he ignored her.
But Mother would be ecstatic. She was one of the volunteers for the picnic, so she had to be around somewhere.
Bart was likely dragging Mrs. Cornell around, as they had a prize entered and were in charge of various events. His boss had probably insisted she be allowed to cling to his arm like a leech. Revolting! The first thing Martha planned to do once she and Bart married would be to either buy out Mrs. Cornell and get rid of her entirely, or make sure he quit that silly job.
Besides, once they were married, he wouldn’t have to work – he could concentrate on being a gentleman. Daddy had enough money and investments to take care of the lot of them. Better yet, she’d whisk him away to San Francisco! Yes, that’s what she’d do! She’d show everyone!
