by Kit Morgan
“Miss Overton?”
“Ack!” Martha cried in surprise and bumped into Jasper Smith.
“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Overton.” He took a step back. “I’m looking for your mother. Have you seen her?”
She shook her head. “But I’m looking for her.”
“Good, if you find her before I do, tell her we need her to judge the preserves.”
“Preserves?”
“Yes, didn’t she tell you? Having a jam contest was her idea.” He smiled and went on his way.
She watched him go. How had she missed that? Mother involved her with everything. Why didn’t she tell her about the contest? With a shrug, she moved on.
Elizabeth bit her lower lip as Bart spoke with Sam Todd. Say something to him, she thought. But what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if the looks he’d given her earlier had been just teasing? He was a man, after all, and men did tend to do things like that.
But had Bart ever hid his feelings from her? Hadn’t she looked into his eyes whenever she could? More importantly, hadn’t he looked back?
She swallowed hard as she continued to study him. His back was to her, his broad shoulders moving to and fro as he spoke. Mr. Todd glanced her way now and then, smiling. She had no idea what they were talking about – she just enjoyed watching Bart Brown converse.
Of course, she liked watching him do other things as well. Like when he’d stab himself with a needle – the funny look he’d get on his face, the way he’d suck his finger, shake it, then get back to work. He’d catch her watching him sometimes and smile. Had he any idea her watching him meant so much more than a casual glance throughout the day? For Heaven’s sake, she’d just realized it herself.
“Ready?” he asked, startling her from her reverie.
She hoped she was good at hiding it. “Yes. What’s next?”
“Now that the picnic is officially underway, we need to announce the first contest – the three-legged race.” He had a gleam in his eye.
“Why do you have that look on your face?” she asked.
“Because Lucius and I are entering.”
“Really?”
He laughed and grabbed her hand. “Come along, you can stand on the sidelines with Emma and Aggie and cheer us on.”
“Is Eldon entering?”
“Yes, with Rev. Latsch!”
They hurried back toward the clearing where the contests would be held. It didn’t take long for her to spot Aggie and Emma – the latter still held a plate of food in her hand. Elizabeth’s stomach growled at the sight.
“Hungry?” Bart asked.
“Apparently,” she said.
“We’ll eat after the race, I promise.”
“And should you not survive it?” she teased.
“Then pour out a libation of apple cider in my memory,” he said with a wink. He turned to speak with Lucius as she laughed.
Aggie sidled up to her. “And what do you call that?”
Elizabeth went silent – and crimson.
“He’s sweet on you,” Aggie told her quietly. “Everyone can see it – why can’t you?”
She swallowed hard. “Because …” She did her best not to make a fool of herself and do something silly, like cry. “… because I didn’t think I’d … that anyone …”
“Lizzy,” Aggie said gently. “Don’t deny yourself a chance at happiness because you feel guilty, or that you don’t deserve it, or that you’re afraid of losing control.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she stared at her friend. Aggie was right on all counts. “Oh Lord.”
“What?”
Elizabeth’s eyes found their way to Bart’s. He smiled at her, then went back to speaking with Lucius. “Oh my goodness.”
“What!?”
Elizabeth looked at her, eyes misting. “I’m …”
“You’re …?” Aggie leaned toward her.
“In love with him,” they said at the same time.
Bart and Lucius both glanced their way, confused, then went back to talking.
Elizabeth and Aggie sighed in relief. They hadn’t heard. “Elizabeth!” Aggie whispered. “My goodness, how wonderful!”
Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. “But what if he doesn’t feel the same?”
“Trust me, I think you’ll be surprised. I know I was when I found out how Eldon felt about me. I had no idea. I’d hoped and prayed, and thought the worst. But here I am, married!”
“Yes, but I’m not you and Bart’s not Eldon.”
“No, but he’s a man sweet on a certain dressmaker I know.”
Elizabeth watched as Bart and Lucius stood together, arms around each other’s shoulders, taking a few practice steps as if their legs were tied together. She giggled at the serious expressions on their faces, and laughed out loud when Eldon tried to coach them.
“They’re going to fall flat on their faces,” Emma said around a barbecued pork rib as she joined them.
“Probably,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “But it’s all in good fun.”
“Speaking of good fun …” Emma nodded toward the two women approaching them.
“Fun?” Aggie said. “You call that fun?”
“Well, I had to call it something,” Emma said before biting into a biscuit.
Elizabeth’s stomach growled again as the Overton women arrived. “Ladies,” Mrs. Overton declared. “Have you entered the contest for preserves?”
“No, none of us have,” Aggie answered for them.
“Too bad,” she said with a smile. “I have three entries.”
“Four if you’d have told me about it,” Martha whined.
“Oh, do be quiet,” her mother snapped.
Elizabeth caught Martha’s frown and wondered why she let her mother speak to her that way. But, it was none of her business. What was, was the way both women looked at Bart like he was some prize bull to be given away to one lucky winner.
“What are they doing, Mother?” Martha asked.
“A silly race. I hope he doesn’t injure himself.” She turned to Martha. “I’d best go find the Rev. Latsch and speak to him at once.”
Elizabeth and the others watched her go, then noticed Martha’s starry-eyed expression. What was that about?
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Bart yelled. The women jumped, and Emma almost dropped a drumstick. “Our first contest is about to begin. This contest is for the men. Please choose your partner for the three-legged race!”
Hoots and hollers rent the air as men scrambled to find partners. Bart, Eldon and Lucius were surrounded within seconds and busied themselves handing out strips of cloth for contestants to bind their legs together.
“This is going to be hilarious,” Emma commented, taking a bite of fried chicken.
“No doubt,” Aggie agreed.
“Oh, I do hope he doesn’t hurt himself,” Martha said, her tone desperate.
Elizabeth, Aggie and Emma turned to her. “Who?” Elizabeth said.
Martha’s expression went from frantic-with-worry to haughty. “Never you mind. It’s none of your business.” She flounced through the growing crowd to watch the race elsewhere.
“What’s the matter with her?” Emma asked.
“One guess,” Aggie said.
“Oh dear – Bart was afraid of this,” Elizabeth added.
Emma glanced between the two, then looked at Bart. Or what she could see of him. “Poor Martha. I can’t understand how she gets such things in that head of hers.”
“There’s plenty of empty space in there,” Aggie quipped.
“Aggie!” Emma and Elizabeth admonished her.
“Well, why do you think she’s never married?” Aggie asked. “The woman is forty-four going on fourteen, the way she acts. No man worth his salt wants to wed a child.”
“If you ask me, Mrs. Overton puts those thoughts there,” Elizabeth added. “I wonder … is she, well, feeble-minded?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Emma commented. “Not from what I’v
e seen. But there’s certainly something there. Otherwise, as scarce as women are around these parts, she’d have been married years ago.”
“Decades,” Aggie corrected.
“Maybe her parents are holding out for a gentleman from San Francisco?” Elizabeth suggested.
“Maybe,” Aggie said, sounding doubtful. But Elizabeth could tell she was thinking about it. An unmarried woman in this part of the country was strange indeed. Something about Martha Overton had to be very disagreeable – besides her mother. Then, most women her age didn’t even try for a beau, accepting spinsterhood as their lot. So why the talk of her parents trying to find her a husband? There had to be more to it.
A gun fired, and Elizabeth yelped. The race had begun.
Men and women shouted encouragement to the contestants as they hurried across the field toward the finish line, a length of rope stretched between two young boys. The surprise leaders were Jasper Smith and Jack Carlson. Everyone in town knew Jack was blind, so once they caught sight of him, he became the sentimental favorite. Jasper was shouting out a cadence – “one leg, two legs, one leg, two legs!” – creating a rhythm.
Several pairs of men fell as the shouts and cheers continued. Bart and Lucius caught up to Jasper and Jack, and the race was soon down to those two pairs. Eldon and Rev. Latsch were among those fallen and struggling to get up, much to the townsfolk’s amusement.
Bart and Lucius began to shout to each other when suddenly a high-pitched voice yelled. “Go, Bart, darling! Run!” The voice broke Bart’s concentration – he lost his rhythm and down he and Lucius went. Elizabeth stood, stunned, as her eyes roamed the crowd for Martha Overton. Who else would call out such a thing? Good heavens, what did the people standing near her think?
As Jasper and Jack crossed the finish line and the crowd went wild, she exchanged a quick look with Aggie, who had the same perplexed look on her face. “Well,” Aggie said, “that was … unexpected.”
“Was it?” Elizabeth said.
Emma shook her head. “Elizabeth, you have to do something before this gets further out of hand. Martha might be ‘round the bend a little, but I’d hate to see her hurt.”
“How do you suggest I do that?” she asked.
“Simple – let Bart know how you feel,” Aggie put in. “Now that you know, it should be easy.”
“Know?” Emma said.
“She’s in love,” Aggie said with a smile.
“Aggie!” Elizabeth gasped.
“Oh, that – yes, I know!” Emma glanced around and fanned herself. “I need some lemonade, water, something.”
“I’ll get it!” Aggie volunteered and headed off.
Emma smiled at Elizabeth. “She’s right, you know. You do need to say something. That’s the best way to find out how he feels – and to let Martha know that her mother’s been filling her head with nonsense. That poor woman needs to think for herself for a change.”
“Maybe she can’t,” Elizabeth said. “Out of curiosity, if they have so much money, why do they live in a place like Cutter’s Creek half the time?”
“Mr. Overton likes it here. It’s Mrs. Overton that prefers the cities. I dare say, being married to her with a daughter like that, Cutter’s Creek is the only peace and quiet he gets.”
Aggie rejoined them, a glass of lemonade in her hand. She handed it to Emma, who promptly drained it, gave it back to Aggie and rubbed her belly. “I think I overate.”
“I hope you enjoyed it, though,” Aggie said.
“A bit too much.”
“Oh dear. Let’s go find a place to sit down.”
“Good idea,” Emma agreed with a grimace and turned to Elizabeth. “Coming?”
“No, I still need to guard Bart.”
Emma nodded and suppressed a burp as Aggie led her away.
Elizabeth started toward the finish line when someone grabbed her arm. “He would’ve won if you hadn’t screeched like an alley cat.”
Elizabeth turned to see Martha Overton staring at her with a look that could freeze over a river. “I beg your pardon?”
“All that caterwauling will get you nowhere with him.”
Elizabeth could only stare. Martha was sour and pinched-faced most of the time, but the look she was giving her now was downright murderous. “Martha, are you all right?”
Martha leaned in closer. “Stay away from my husband, or you’ll be sorry.”
Without thinking she began to laugh. “Husband?”
“You stay away from him!” She turned on her heel and stomped away.
Elizabeth and several onlookers stared after her. “What bee got into Miss Overton’s bonnet?” a boy of about twelve asked.
“Don’t rightly know, son,” said a woman standing next to him. She shook her head in dismay and steered the child off in the opposite direction.
Elizabeth swallowed hard. Emma was right about one thing, if nothing else – Martha Overton had gone off her rocker.
15
Bart slapped Lucius on the back. “That was fun!” They were by the prize table to present Jasper and Jack with their “trophies” – two baskets of baked goodies donated by the ladies of the church.
“You’d think the big prize would be for this race.”
“No, that’s for the pie-eating contest. The way I figure, that contest will turn out far more painful than taking a tumble.”
Lucius laughed. “True.”
“Are you entered?”
“Of course. I told Emma what the grand prize was, and she fancies it. I’m gonna see if I can win it for her.”
“Good luck,” Bart laughed. “From what your brother tells me, you have a good chance.”
Lucius smiled. “My sweet tooth serves me well.”
“Mr. Brown?” came a small voice behind them.
They turned. Martha Overton stood, a shy smile on her face. “Congratulations.”
“For what?” Bart asked, more harshly than he’d intended. “We didn’t win.”
“You ran a good race all the same,” she said demurely.
“Thank you, Miss Overton,” Lucius said. “We gave it our best.”
“Until I got distracted,” Bart admitted.
“Oh, I saw everything! What a terrible thing for that Cornell woman to do!”
“Cornell?” Bart said in surprise. “Elizabeth?”
“I saw her shout in that awful voice. None of us could figure out why, other than to make you lose.”
“That was not her voice,” he insisted.
Martha half-shrugged. “I know what I saw, and I think it was a rotten thing to do.” Then her expression changed from coquettish to angry, and her eyes filled with … something. What, he wasn’t quite sure. He exchanged a quick look with Lucius, wondering if he saw it too. Lucius’ confused look indicated he had.
Just then Jasper and Jack joined them. “What did we win?” Jasper asked.
“And will our wives like it?” Jack added.
Bart tore his puzzled gaze from Miss Overton, said, “take a look” to Jasper, then “take a sniff” to Jack. He stood aside to reveal the baskets.
“Oh boy!” Jasper said. “I hope there’s molasses cookies in there. I love me some molasses cookies!”
Jack came closer and inhaled. “I think I detect some of Mrs. Todd’s blackberry muffins.”
“I made sugar cookies,” Miss Overton said.
Bart glanced at her, and saw her face was back to its usual sourpuss expression. “Ah. How nice.”
Her head snapped to him, her eyes were wide and her mouth dropped into a weird half-open half-smile. “You like sugar cookies?”
Bart’s eyes darted to Lucius, who was staring at her in amusement. “Um … I can take them or leave them.” And speaking of leaving, time to go find Elizabeth – and get away from this strange woman.
“Anyone know where my wife is?” Jack asked.
“I’ll help you find her,” said Lucius. “She’s probably looking for you to give you a congratulation kiss.”
Lucius laughed. “Then let’s go find our women.” He took Jack by the arm and began to lead him away.
“I’d better go find Abigail,” Jasper added, took his own basket and left.
“I’ll go with you!” Bart said and headed off after him before Martha Overton could do something crazy. Crazier. As it was, she tried to grab his arm as he went by. Thankfully he was moving fast enough that she missed – but only by a hair’s breadth. Shades of Prudence Markley, he thought, only twice as old.
Mercifully, it didn’t take him long to find Elizabeth. She was next to some wagons, having finally gotten herself a plate of food. “You didn’t wait for me?” he asked, slightly disappointed.
She reached to one side and handed him a full plate of his own. “I’m sorry, but watching Emma wolf down all that food … I held out as long as I could.” She passed him a fork.
“That’s all right – thank you for getting me some.” He took a forkful of Mrs. Petroff’s potato salad, popped it in his mouth and rolled his eyes in pleasure.
Elizabeth looked quickly around. “Bart, I think something may be very wrong with Martha …”
“Overton? Yes, I know. Poor thing is acting very strangely.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “What did she say to you?”
“Well, she blamed you for my mishap on the field.”
“What? Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She took a bite of chicken.
“What about you? How was she acting?”
Elizabeth sighed. “She yelled at me to stay away from her husband.”
“Husband?”
“Yes,” she said with a lopsided smile. “You.”
“This is worse than I thought. Poor woman’s lost the plot. Maybe that’s why her parents run off to San Francisco so much.”
“I think their doing that might be more cause than effect.” She bit her bottom lip. “What makes a person speak out like that, say such outlandish things?”
“A lack of moral code?” he suggested. He looked at her. “Whatever it is, left unchecked, I’m sure it will land her in a heap of trouble. We’d best let Mr. and Mrs. Overton know.”
