“… And this is my wife Bernice,” Warren Johnson announced as his wife entered the parlor.

Billie studied the woman a moment. She was very thin, with light brown hair and brown eyes. “How do you do?”

“Very well, thank you. I’m so glad you could visit us today.”

“I hope it’s not an inconvenience,” Lucien said. “But I heard your grandfather wasn’t doing well and wanted to check on him.”

“He’s upstairs resting,” Warren said. “Bernice, some tea?”

“I already put the kettle on – and just took a batch of cookies out of the oven.”

“Splendid timing, then” Lucien winked at Billie.

She felt her cheeks grow hot and continued to study Bernice, who was doing the same with her. “Did you make your dress?” Bernice asked.

“No, a dressmaker did. Including the matching eyepatch.” She’d donned a sky-blue day dress with navy pinstripes, and a hat and patch to match. Lucien had told her how beautiful she looked as soon as she opened her door, and again when he brought her downstairs. Mrs. Ferguson had watched them like a hawk, looking Billie up and down as if she’d just seen her for the first time.

Lucien’s compliments had made her blush despite Mrs. Ferguson’s scrutiny. For a moment she’d thought it was just flattery, but one thing she was learning about Lucien Miller was that he was an honest man. What she couldn’t figure out was why he’d think she was beautiful. Maybe it was just the outfit … but then there was all that talk about ancient goddesses.

Bernice motioned Billie to join her on a loveseat. “I hear you’re a mail-order bride.”

“Indeed. Lucien tells me you were too.”

“I was. Warren’s grandfather sent for me.”

“Really?” Billie looked at Warren.

Warren nodded “There was a lot of … surprise bride-ordering back then. Where they forgot to tell the grooms.”

“Yes,” agreed Lucien. “I told Billie about the Rileys already. And Mrs. Quinn ordered one for Matthew, but she ended up marrying Tom Turner because Matthew was already in love with Charlotte – that was a comedy of errors.” He rolled his eyes.

“And my grandfather did the same.” Warren jabbed his chest with his thumb. “Worked out despite the bumpy beginning.”

“Blimey,” Billie said. “I’ll have to ask Charlotte about that. And I met a few of the Weavers when I first arrived.” She looked at Lucien. “Did their mother order her sons mail-order brides?”

Lucien laughed. “Oh no – you couldn’t do that with the Weaver boys. They’d never stand for it, not even from their mother. They sent for their own.”

Billie closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’ll never keep this straight.”

“I don’t even try,” Bernice admitted.

Billie giggled. She was having fun with Lucien – the pleasant conversation on the drive out, enjoying each other’s company in the warm afternoon sun, and now sharing tea and tales with the Johnsons.

“You’ll stay for supper, won’t you?” Bernice asked.

Billie glanced between Bernice and Lucien. It wasn’t up to her – she hadn’t rented the horse and buggy.

“Would you like to stay?” Lucien asked.

She smiled. “Yes, if that’s what you wish.”

He smiled back with a little shake of his head. “I asked what you wanted. Would you like to stay?”

Her chest warmed. He was putting her first. “Yes, I would.”

“Bernice, we will be staying for supper,” Lucien announced. “Now tell me about the old man – how is he, really?”

Bernice and Warren exchanged a quick look. “Not getting any younger,” Warren said. “The doc says he’s just slowing down from age. He can’t do what he thinks he can do.”

“Like climbing a tree,” Bernice added. “Or moving crates of apples.”

“His balance is off,” Warren added. “So climbing a ladder isn’t much better.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucien said. “Billie and I would be happy to lend a hand come harvest time.”

Billie glanced at him, then at Bernice and Warren. If she agreed, she’d be planting her feet more firmly in Nowhere. Her heart beat hard at the thought. “Oh yes,” she said at last. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you, that’s so kind” Bernice said. “Come harvest, we should have enough people to help.”

“The hard part is keeping Grandpa off the ladders,” Warren said. “His biggest fear is feeling useless. We’ll have to find something else for him to do.”

Billie stared at the floor. “My father was afraid of that as well.”

“Was he?” Lucien said.

“What man isn’t?” Warren added. “To work with your hands all your life, to labor, grow things and suddenly you can’t anymore? The notion gives me the shivers.”

“Working in a bank is different in that respect,” Lucien said. “Less physical, more mental – just as tiring, but in a different fashion. I look forward to the day I no longer have to labor in such a manner.”

“What do you look forward to?” Billie asked, curious.

He grinned. “To travel the world with you, if I have my way.”

A surprised gasp escaped her.

“Travel?” Bernice said with a sigh. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Don’t get my wife started,” Warren groaned playfully.

“Hush, you,” Bernice teased and stood. “The water should be ready. Billie, would you like to help me?”

She nodded, then looked at Lucien, who smiled and winked. Blushing, she rose and followed Bernice into the kitchen.

“I must admit, I’m jealous,” Bernice said as she grabbed a rag and took the kettle off the stove. She poured water into the teapot, returned the kettle and reached for a plate of fresh-baked cookies. “I’ve always dreamed of traveling. That was one of the reasons I became a mail-order bride.”

“Really?” Billie said, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Yes, though I didn’t travel far. I’m from a town in Oregon called Independence. I didn’t cross the nation, let alone the ocean, like you did. I love your accent, by the way.”

Billie smiled. “Thank you. I did travel a bit to get here, I suppose.”

“Suppose?” Bernice said with a laugh. “I’ve dreamed of going abroad. And here you’ve already done it. You’ll have to tell me all about England.”

“All right,” Billie said. “And you can tell me all about Oregon.”

Bernice laughed as she set cups and saucers on a tray. “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, though I have a few amusing stories.”

“There seems to be no end of those around here. I’ve heard several already.”

“You’ll hear a lot more. Help me carry this into the parlor.” She nodded at the plate of cookies.

When they rejoined the men, Bernice poured while Billie passed out cookies. The four chatted companionably for a time, before being joined by the elder Johnson. “What’s all the ruckus down here?” he said roughly before catching sight of Billie. “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat – howdy!” He went straight to her and held out his hand. “I’m Grandpa Johnson, who’re you?”

Bernice hid her face in her hands. “Grandpa,” she groaned.

“Grandpa what?” he snapped. “Ain’t anyone gonna introduce me?”

Warren stood and guided his grandfather to a chair. “Here, sit and I’ll pour you a cup of tea. You know Lucien from the bank?”

Grandpa Johnson peered at Lucien over his spectacles. “Howdy. You’re lookin’ good, young man.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to see you up and around.”

“And I’m glad I can open my eyes in the mornin’,” he shot back, then looked Billie up and down. “And what about you, young lady? You look the adventurous type.”

She giggled in response as Lucien joined her on the loveseat. “Mr. Johnson, my betrothed, Miss Billie Jane Sneed. And yes, she’s had her share of adventures, and is looking forward to a whole new set of them with me.” He took her hand. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

His hand was big and warm, and she reveled in the feel of it. He was protecting her, changing the subject so she wouldn’t have to talk about her scars or lost eye. She smiled. “Yes, I am.”

“And for our first adventure,” Lucien said, “we’re joining you for supper.”

“Yippee!” Grandpa Johnson cried. “Won’t that be somethin’?”

Bernice and Warren laughed. “Yes, it will,” Bernice said. “And as soon as we finish our tea, Billie can help me in the kitchen.”

Billie nodded without thinking. She was comfortable around these people and liked Warren’s grandfather. She watched him take a cup and saucer from his grandson, followed by a cookie. His eyes twinkled as he dunked it in his tea.

“Billie, are you finished?” Bernice asked as she stood.

“Yes.” With a pang of regret, she pulled her hand from Lucien’s. “I’ll go help her,” she told him.

“Enjoy yourselves.” He leaned toward her and quietly added, “I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”

Billie blushed fiercely, shivering as she stood.

Bernice gave her a knowing look before turning to Grandpa. “Behave yourself.”

“Me? Always!”

Bernice snorted, took Billie by the hand and led her into the kitchen.

“Lucien is a good man,” Bernice said as she brought a bowl of raw potatoes to the table. “You’re a lucky woman.”

Billie’s spine tingled. “Yes, he is a good man.” Too good for me. She shook her head and tried to push the thought from her mind.

“Is something wrong?” Bernice asked.

“Nothing,” she said with a shrug.

Bernice sat, a paring knife in her hand. “If we both peel, we’ll get them done in no time.” She slid a second knife across the table.

Billie sat and picked it up. “Hand me a few,” she said with a nod at the bowl.

Bernice gave her three. “Do they hurt?” She looked at Billie, her face full of compassion. “I don’t mean to pry, but I can’t help but notice your scars are new.”

“No.” Billy touched her cheek. “Funny, it didn’t hurt at the time. Later, though…”

“I can imagine … I’m sorry, I’m being nosy.”

“Hard not to be,” Billie said with a smile. “I was attacked protecting my father.”

“You don’t have to tell me any more.” Bernice began to peel a potato.

“I’d like to tell it if you don’t mind. Better you hear it for me than secondhand from someone in town.”

Bernice rolled her eyes. “Like Nellie Davis, for example.”

“I was thinking Mrs. Ferguson, actually,” Billie admitted. “I’ve heard the stories about Mrs. Davis, but I’ve spent time with the woman and I think she’s trying to mend her ways.”

“Thank the Lord for that,” Bernice said. “She and my mother make quite a team. If Nellie rehabilitates herself, then …” She shook her head. “… well, maybe there’s hope.”

“For your mother?”

Bernice nodded. “She’s horrible – always has been. Warren and I used to joke who was the worse busybody, her or Nellie. You’re lucky Lucien’s parents live far away – though actually, they might be very nice, I don’t know.”

“Is your mother here in Nowhere?”

“Thank heavens, no,” Bernice said with a giggle. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but she’s a lot easier to love when she’s in another state.”

Billie peeled potatoes as her words sunk in. She might be disfigured and unpleasant to look at on the outside, but her father had loved her dearly. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have one’s parent be her tormentor.

“I hope you like fried chicken,” Bernice said, breaking into her thoughts.

“I’ve tried it, but only once. I’m curious how to make it.”

Bernice’s eyes popped. “You’ve never made fried chicken?”

Billie shook her head. “Alas, my life has lent itself to more adventure than recipes.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place. I got the most wonderful recipe from Elle Riley. They live on the other side of our orchards.”

“Yes, I heard you were neighbors.”

Bernice reached for another potato. “When I first came here I was so … well, it wasn’t pretty. And neither was I. Elle helped me a lot.”

Billie stared at her. True, the woman was cadaverously thin, but she was sweet and kind – anyone could see that. And of course, she wasn’t missing an eye or facially scarred.

“I was so awkward,” Bernice continued. “I could hardly walk ten feet without falling on my face. And did a few times, with Warren watching.”

Billie gasped.

“It’s true,” Bernice said. “I was the ugly duckling from the fairytales – clumsy, inept, far from beautiful.”

Billie peeled as she listened. Was Bernice telling her this to make her feel better, or just recollecting?

“I couldn’t cook, I couldn’t sew, I’d never worked a day in my life – worthless.” She rolled her eyes. “Now here I am, married to the most wonderful man in the world. He saw so much in me that I couldn’t.”

Billie set down the knife. “And you’re telling me this because …?”

Bernice smiled. “Because you remind me of me. I know that sounds silly, but that’s what I sense – that you feel awkward, and maybe don’t see your own worth. I just felt it had to be said.”

Billie closed her mouth, having just realized it was hanging open. How had the girl known? “Thank you.”

Bernice nodded. “You’re welcome. Now let’s finish these potatoes, and I’ll show you how I fry chicken.”

Lucien made a fist. “I’m telling you, if I ever get my hands on the man who harmed her, I’ll …”

“Killin’ the man ain’t the answer,” Warren’s grandfather cut in. “Killin’ don’t solve nothin’.”

Lucien released a long breath. “I was going to say the more general ‘make sure he pays,’ and I don’t think I could kill a man in cold blood. But I take your point.”

“Only natural you’d be angry,” Grandpa said. “She’s your bride. Don’t make no difference it happened ‘fore you met her. She’s an innocent woman that was attacked and lost her pa. Makes me want to shoot the snake myself.”

“Me too,” Warren said. “And thank you for telling us what happened. Poor thing. I hope she comes to visit again. I remember how Bernice was when she first arrived.”

“I heard she had her moments.”

“Like gettin’ sprayed by a skunk?” Grandpa said with a laugh. “Now that was somethin’!”

“Grandpa!” Warren said, then chuckled. “It wasn’t funny at the time. Took poor Bernice three weeks to get rid of the stink.”

Lucien chuckled too. He’d heard stories of Warren and Bernice’s hazardous courtship from Spencer Riley. “The last thing my bride – or I – need is a run-in with a skunk.”

Warren and his grandfather laughed. Then Grandpa’s eyes lit up. “Hey, that’s an idea!”

“What?” Warren asked.

He looked at Lucien. “Why don’t you get hitched here on the farm? Daniel Weaver got married in one of their orchards. You could do the same. That way there’s plenty of room for folks that want to come.”

Lucien exchanged a quick look with Warren. “Here on your farm?”

“Why not?” Warren said. “There’s already been talk about a town picnic. But if that’s too many people …”

“Great Scott, I can’t subject Billie to a public wedding at a town picnic!”

“But it’s private, it’s pretty, it’s …” Grandpa added a wink. “… ro-man-tic.”

Lucien smiled. “You sly dog.”

Grandpa grinned, then sobered. “You’re a good man, Lucien Miller, marryin’ that gal.”

“She’s the bride I sent for – of course I’m going to marry her. And for the record, even if I hadn’t sent away for her and she lived here in Nowhere, I’d still marry her. She’s beyond my wildest dreams for a wife.”

Warren and his grandfather exchanged a look. “Grandpa didn’t mean it like that …”

“I meant it just like that.” Grandpa studied Lucien. “She ain’t much to look at –”

“On that, we disagree,” Lucien replied, frowning.

“Well, okay. You really do like this woman, don’t you? You ain’t just doing it out of obligation?”

“Not in the least. The second I saw her I rejoiced and was exceedingly glad. And I’ll hear no more about that, thank you. I want Billie to have the best wedding I can give her – she’s worth it.”

“That’s not pity, Grandpa,” Warren added. “He’s got real feelings for her. Just like I do for Bernice.” He turned to Lucien. “Congratulations on finding the woman of your dreams, friend.”

“Thank you, Warren – I’m glad someone understands.” Lucien abruptly stood and began pacing. “Why do so many people question my desire to marry this woman? Just because she isn’t perfect to them doesn’t mean she isn’t perfect to me. It certainly doesn’t mean she should be refused love, simply because she doesn’t look like the Riley women or, or Isabella Weaver.”

Warren nodded. “You’re right. People assume.” He glanced at his grandfather, who was looking appropriately chastened.

“Exactly. They assume that because she’s not what they consider pretty, she’s to be discarded. Well, I for one like a tall woman, a strong woman, an adventurous woman – and yes, a woman with a blue pinstriped eyepatch! Did anyone stop to think about that? Warren, you’re the first person who’s grasped that, and I thank you for it. But that it keeps coming up bothers me to no foreseeable end.”

Warren nodded and glanced at the kitchen door. “As I suppose it should. Bernice is beautiful in my eyes, inside and out, and anyone who says otherwise better be prepared to answer for it.”

“As Billie is to me,” Lucien said. He sighed. “I just wish I could convince other people of it. Her, first and foremost.”