“I’m so glad you came to visit again,” Bernice said as she took a pie out of the oven. “We’ll let this cool, then see how it is after supper.”

“You mean we’re not going to try it before the men do?” Billie asked nervously.

Bernice set the pie on the worktable. “Don’t look so worried. This is Elle Riley’s recipe, and she taught me everything I know about cooking. And now I’m teaching you.”

Billie sat in a chair at the kitchen table. Warren and Bernice had stopped by the hotel on their way home from getting supplies at Quinn’s Mercantile and invited her to supper. When she agreed, Warren strolled to the bank and invited Lucien, who would drive her home. A thrill of excitement went up her spine at the thought. “Lucien will like it?”

“He’ll love it. Land sakes, you told me this isn’t your first pie.”

“No, but I’ve not made too many. There are a lot of things I never thought to attempt. It was easier to go to a shoppe.”

“None of those around here. We have to do our own baking.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard. And Hank’s baking as well.”

Bernice laughed again. “Poor Hank, he’s always so busy. He has to rely on the generosity of the local women to supply his restaurant. At least he pays a decent amount.”

“Enough to break even?”

“Probably. Say, there’s an idea – when you get good at baking, you could make a deal with him and name your price. I bet being from overseas, you know a few dishes we don’t.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t know if my baking will be good enough for that.”

Bernice put her hands on her hips. “Stop doubting yourself. You’re reminding me of me.”

Billie sighed. “A hard habit to break, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t think I don’t know. I was terrible at first, always assuming the worst in every possible situation. If I our places were switched, I’d have left town the moment I set eyes on Lucien.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at him, Billie – he’s gorgeous. I’d have quit the moment I saw him.”

“But … you have nothing to hide.”

“Except my inadequacy,” Bernice said. “And in my eyes, I was nothing. You at least have a few things going for you. You’re tall and strong, you’ve got fight …”

“Fight?”

Bernice sighed. “You’re a survivor. Frankly, you’re the type of woman Warren wanted. That’s hard for me to admit.”

Billie shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Bernice joined her at the table and sat. “He wanted a woman like you to help him work the farm. Instead he got me.”

Billie looked her over as realization dawned. Bernice was tiny, probably the last thing an apple farmer like Warren Johnson would want. “Oh yes, I see. But he loves you?”

“Of course he loves me. Despite my size and my inability to do all the things he wished I could, he doesn’t complain. He fell in love with me despite what I thought.”

A tiny laugh escaped Billie.

“Yes, it is rather funny, now that I think about it,” Bernice said. “I don’t remember who told me this – maybe it was Leona Riley. I stayed with them while Warren and I courted. She said there’s someone out there for everyone. For you, it’s Lucien.”

Billie smiled back. “Yes, it is.” Another weight suddenly lifted, as if her words released them. Perhaps they had. She smiled again. “And I’m going to marry Lucien.”

“Yes, you are. Now just keep telling yourself that. Pinch your arm now and then if it helps – I did enough of it while Warren courted me.”

Billie nodded, excitement gripping her heart. She was a woman, a unique one, and Lucien thought she was tremendous. She was learning that, slowly but surely. Thank the Lord he’d given her plenty of actions to go along with his words: his gazes, his kisses, his generosity and close attention to her welfare. He was a good man, and she’d have been a fool to toss him away.

She looked at Bernice and smiled. Thank you, Lord, for showing me through my new friends that I am not alone, nor the only one with fears and troubles and self-doubts. And thank you for having Bernice make me a better cook!

“So,” Billie said. “What are we making the men for dinner?”

Lucien took another bite of pie and sighed in satisfaction. “My compliments.”

Billie beamed. “Thank you.”

His eyes widened. “You made this?”

“She most certainly did,” Bernice cut in.

“With a little help,” Billie admitted. “Not my recipe.”

“Nor mine,” Bernice said.

“It’s not the recipe, but the hands that made it.” Lucien gave Billie a wink. “It was delicious. Great Scott, but I may get fat.”

Everyone at the table laughed. “Best have Billie help with the pies for the picnic,” Grandpa suggested. “There’s a lot of work to be done between now and then.”

“I’d almost forgotten about that.” Lucien gazed at Billie across the table. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you want to get married after the picnic?”

She smiled at him. Once again, he was putting her wants first. “We can marry as soon as my dress is done.”

“They’ve started then?”

She smiled and nodded as her chest warmed. Little by little, she felt herself sliding into what could only be described as a pool of tranquility. Was it love for this man, or that she was no longer fighting with herself? Billie wasn’t sure. Maybe both. But she knew she was ready to let herself fall in love. If her new friends adored and trusted the man, why couldn’t she?

Well, now she knew why – and that she wasn’t the only one to go through such a struggle. Learning of Bernice’s and other women’s trials had given her a confidence she’d been lacking. She could’ve lost her chance at love if she’d continued on the path she’d set for herself.

“Billie?”

She looked at him. “I’m sorry, I was thinking. Yes, they’ve started my dress.”

Lucien smiled. “Good. Then as soon as it’s done, we’ll wed.” He glanced around the table. “Any one up for more pie?”

Billie grinned. “I’ll get you another piece.”

“You’re a bright little bird today,” Lucien commented on the drive back to town.

“Oh?” she said, feigning ignorance. She patted her hair and tried to hide a smile. A scripture ran through her mind, one she’d heard countless times, but now it branded on her heart: And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. And it had.

“Yes.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “You’re … lighter.”

“Lighter?”

He grinned. “Just what sort of dress are your friends making you?”

Friends. Billie smiled again. Charlotte, Abbey, Leona, Betsy, Bernice, Nellie … okay, maybe Nellie. “A pretty one.”

“You’re pretty.” He leaned in her direction. “Beautiful.”

Billie’s cheeks flamed. “Thank you.”

Lucien grinned again. He took her sleeve and gave it a playful tug. “What are you doing way over there? Join me, will you?”

“Lucien Miller, I’m not inches from you.”

“Too many inches. I want my bride close to me. And don’t say a word about propriety – we’re alone.”

“You’re impossible.” She blushed again and scooted closer.

“And you’re beautiful.”

A tiny prick of doubt stabbed her, but she slapped it aside. He thinks I’m beautiful. That means all of me, not just one or two parts, she thought to herself. She would have to remember that if she was to win this fight and keep on winning.

Lucien put his arm around her with a smile. “There,” he said softly. “Isn’t this better?”

She looked at him. He was beautiful. A lock of his thick dark hair fell onto his forehead, the rest curling out from under his hat. He had eyes that spoke volumes, with lashes long enough to make her jealous. His face was chiseled, his frame sinewy and muscular. And he thought she was beautiful? Who was she to argue?

Leona Riley was right when she’d told Bernice there was someone for everyone. She’d somehow found Lucien Miller. Which made her wonder – if she hadn’t become a mail-order bride, would she still have found him? What about if her father never made his dying wish, or never come to America? Would she be sitting next to such a man in a rented horse and buggy driving back to a town named Nowhere? Who knew?

But she did find him. And that was all that mattered.

“You’re not talking,” he teased.

“I’m thinking,” she whispered back.

“About what?”

She licked her lips. “About … us. As husband and wife.”

“Ooh, I can hardly wait to hear this.” He tightened his hold and kissed her hair. “Tell me.”

She shook her head. “It’s a surprise.”

“I love surprises.” He kissed her hair again.

Billie looked into those fabulous grey eyes of his.

Lucien stared back and kissed her mouth.

Oh Father in Heaven, Billie thought as she melted against him, I’m falling in love.

Billie’s dress was done the night before the town picnic. She even helped with part of it, and though not as good a seamstress as her friends, no one could tell whose work was whose. It was simple yet elegant, white satin with an empire waistline. Abbey had overlaid the skirt with lace and even made her a matching eyepatch. “Ready to try it on?” Charlotte asked, holding it up.

Billie touched it, then wiped away a tear. “It’s so beautiful.”

“I have to agree,” Charlotte said. “One of the best I’ve ever seen. You’ll be the loveliest bride we’ve had in years. Here, try it on.”

Billie took it, went behind a changing screen and undressed. When she stepped out from behind the screen, Charlotte took a breath. “Billie, you’re gorgeous!”

Billie smiled shyly, went to the mirror and gawked at herself. “Is that truly me?”

“It sure is.” Charlotte did up the few buttons in back, gave a little tug here and there, then stepped back to examine her handiwork. “Lucien is going to bust a gut when he sees you in this.”

Billie laughed. “I like that expression. It’s one of my favorites, along with ‘tarnation’.”

Charlotte smiled. “Some would say you’re swearing with that word. It depends on who you’re talking to.”

Billie turned away from the mirror. “Oh, thank you, Charlotte, from the bottom of my heart. If there’s anything I can ever do for you …”

“Don’t worry, there will be. This is a small town, and you’ll be living just down the street.”

Billie smiled. “Yes, I will, won’t I?”

“Isn’t it wonderful? We can have afternoon tea together, sew together and when we both have children …” Charlotte stopped and looked away. “Well, I can watch yours for you.”

Billie put a hand on her arm. “Charlotte … are you barren?”

Charlotte clasped her hands in front of her. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Forgive my prying … is it Matthew?”

She shook her head. “I think it’s just … not time for us yet, that’s all. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

Billie slowly nodded, unsure of what to say. It was a delicate subject and brought sadness to Charlotte’s face. She turned back to the mirror. “Didn’t Abbey say she was bringing the veil by today?”

“Yes, she should be here any minute. Now that your dress is done, are you and Lucien getting married during the picnic?”

“Good heavens, no – the day after will be fine. Besides, there’s so much work still to do. Bernice will be here soon to fetch me – I’m helping her with pie production again today.”

“You’re very kind to do so.”

Billie smiled at her before stepping behind the changing screen. “It’s a kindness she’s teaching me how to cook better. Lucien thinks so too.”

Charlotte giggled. “We’ll all help you. Poor Bernice had no skill when she first arrived – the Riley women taught her most of what she knows. I contributed a little.”

“You did?” Billie said as she slipped out of the dress, thankful there weren’t many buttons.

“Yes. I, um, taught her how to flirt with her husband.”

Billie looked at her over the screen – not hard to do at her height. “Flirt?”

“Yes, you know, be confident around a man. Tease a little. I can teach you too.”

Billie’s mouth slowly fell open. “When can we start?”

“As soon as you’re changed,” Charlotte said with a chuckle. “At this point, I’m sure Bernice could teach you a thing or two as well.”

“She can?” Billie said with a smile.

“Yes, which means it’s a good thing you’re spending the rest of the day with her.”

Billie stopped what she was doing and caught Charlotte’s eye. “No, it’s a good thing the Lord sent me to Nowhere. After meeting and getting to know all of you, I don’t think I’d want to live anywhere else.”

Charlotte went to the screen and smiled. “I don’t think we’d know what to do if you ever left. I’m glad He sent you to us.”

Billie, speechless with emotion, nodded and did her best not to let her happy tears fall.