“And this is Summer Riley and her sister-in-law Elle,” Bernice said.

Billie smiled at the two women. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to meet you at last.”

The two blondes exchanged a quick look. “Oh dear,” Summer said. “I do hope you didn’t hear too many things.”

“Would it matter?” Billie asked. “I assure you, everything I was told was good.”

“That’s a relief,” Elle said with a laugh. “Our mother-in-law must have done all the talking.”

“I heard a few things from Charlotte Quinn as well,” Billie admitted. “Also good. I’m sure you’ll sleep easy tonight.”

The women laughed at her joke. “Has anyone seen Mrs. Ferguson?” Summer asked.

“Why?” Billie asked as a twinge of dread went up her spine.

“I heard her niece was arriving in town today,” Elle said. “Nowhere is so small, we get excited whenever anyone visits or comes to stay. We were very excited to meet you.”

“Everyone has been so kind to me,” Billie said. “I look forward to visiting with you in the future.”

“You and Lucien must come to our farm for supper once you’re married,” Summer suggested.

“We’d like that very much,” Billie said with a smile.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” Grandpa cried from several yards away. “Will you look at that?”

The women turned to see Mrs. Ferguson being helped down from the Quinns’ wagon by Mr. Quinn. Then he helped a girl – make that young woman. Men and a few women began to gather around them, Bernice among them.

“Your wait appears to be over,” Billie told Summer. “That must be the niece.”

“Come on, Billie,” Grandpa said, offering her his arm. “Let’s go say howdy. You gals want to join us?”

“Of course,” Summer said, following Grandpa and Billie into the growing crowd. “My goodness, you’d think none of us had ever seen a stranger before.”

“Billie, can you see her?” Grandpa asked.

“Hard to miss.” Billie, a good head taller than most of the townsfolk, could see very well. Mrs. Ferguson’s niece was also tall – though not as tall as she was – with a willowy build. Her blonde hair was piled on her head, her face framed by tiny ringlets. Her eyes were large and green and beautiful with dark lashes. She was a stunning beauty, like a blonde Isabella Weaver.

“Well?” Grandpa said. “What do you see?”

“A pretty girl,” she said calmly. She also saw Lucien, on the other side of the crowd, staring… no, gawking at the newcomer, along with the other men. She’d seen those same looks the day she arrived in town, aimed at Isabella Weaver. The difference was, Mrs. Ferguson’s niece was unmarried.

Billie looked hard at Lucien, who stood stunned next to Warren. Bernice, not far away, looked as annoyed as Billie felt.

“Everyone,” Mrs. Ferguson said loudly to those not able to get close enough. “May I introduce you to my niece, Miss Ottilie Ferguson.” Everyone began to talk at once, welcoming the beauty to Nowhere.

Billie, feeling suddenly self-conscious, stepped back, treading on Grandpa’s feet. They stumbled over each other and went down in a heap.

“Billie, Mr. Johnson!” Elle cried as she raced over to help.

“Mr. Johnson, are you all right?” Summer asked as she pulled the old man up.

“No harm done, I’m fine. How about you, Billie?”

Billie sat on the hard ground, her face red with embarrassment. “No injury save my pride.”

Bernice made her way through the crowd and took her hand. Elle took the other and together, they pulled her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Bernice asked.

“Quite fine. I’m glad you managed to make it to Warren. Being small and thin, you have the advantage over me in slipping through crowds.”

“And you have the advantage in being able to see over them,” Bernice pointed out.

“Handy as all that is,” Grandpa said, “I still ain’t met the newcomer.”

“I can remedy that,” Mrs. Ferguson said as she cut through the crowd, her niece in tow. “Ottilie, let me introduce to you to the Johnsons and Rileys.”

Ottilie smiled shyly at Grandpa. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

He took her hand and gave it a healthy shake. “Nice to meet you. Plannin’ to stay long?”

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by her aunt. “That all depends on what sort of offers we get.”

“Offers?”

“Of marriage, of course,” Mrs. Ferguson stated.

“But Auntie, I didn’t come here to get …”

“Of course you did, dear.”

Ottilie looked confused, then smiled weakly at the crowd.

“I’m Summer Riley, and this is my sister-in-law Elle.”

The girl smiled again, then caught sight of Billie. Her eyes rounded to platters and she gasped.

Billie smiled. She was used to that reaction. “Hello, I’m Billie Sneed. Soon to be Mrs. Billie Miller.” She offered the girl a hand, as so many others had.

She took it warily, her eyes on Billie’s face and shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Sneed. I’ve… heard a lot about you.”

Billie raised an eyebrow. “You have?” She looked at Mrs. Ferguson, who met her stare.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, pulled her hand out of Billie’s and put it behind her back. Billie almost expected her to wipe it on her skirts. She looked at Mrs. Ferguson again, who now wore a smug look on her face.

“How do you find Nowhere?” Bernice asked.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of it,” she said. “As soon as my things were in my room, Mr. and Mrs. Quinn fetched us here.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it quite charming,” Billie said.

The girl’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Are you from England?”

“Yes, I am.”

“London?” the girl asked.

Mrs. Ferguson cleared her throat. “There will be time for questions later, Ottilie. I want to introduce you to some more people. Oh, Mr. Davis!” She grabbed her niece by the hand and dragged her away.

“That wasn’t very polite,” Bernice stated.

“No, it wasn’t,” Billie agreed. She looked for Lucien again but didn’t see him. Probably a good thing – she didn’t need to feel doubtful. She had a strange feeling in her belly and she didn’t like it.

“Let’s go fetch the rest of the lemonade and put it on the table,” Bernice said.

Billie nodded and followed her toward the house. “Mrs. Ferguson’s niece is … pretty.”

Bernice glanced at her over one shoulder as she climbed the porch steps. “Yes, she is. But I don’t know what put it in Mrs. Ferguson’s head to marry her off while she’s here. There are no eligible bachelors in town right now except a few early-arriving fruit-pickers.”

Billie stopped in the middle of the porch steps and looked at the townspeople milling around. “That is curious. Why would she say such a thing?”

“That girl is young – sixteen at most. The only one around here even close to her age would be Isabella’s brother Alfonso, and he’s maybe fifteen. Certainly not ready for marriage. I hope they’re able to come – though frankly, I won’t mind if they don’t.”

Billie giggled. She’d heard stories over the last couple of weeks about the Weaver clan and the trouble they’d caused in the past. “Do they know about the picnic?”

“Oh, I’m sure they do. Mrs. Gunderson who runs the stage stop would have told them at some point. They pick their mail up there.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Isabella again and meeting her family,” Billie said. Maybe a wagonload of Weavers would take her mind off her growing feeling that all was not right with the world.

“If they come, they might not show up until later. Then they’ll spend the night with Matthew and Charlotte. It can be a lot of trouble for all of them to get here. But they all show up at the Harvest Festival – Mary Weaver sells her hats there.”

“When is the festival?” Billie asked as they entered the house.

“October. It’s a lot of fun, you’ll see.” They went into the kitchen and each carried out a pitcher of lemonade. “We’ll have to make more, but not for a while yet,” Bernice said. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes, but I’ll eat when Lucien does.” She glanced around as two more wagons came down the lane. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

“He’ll turn up. Lucien’s probably with Warren – he likes showing off his livestock.”

Billie smiled as she continued searching. “You don’t mind if I go find him, do you?”

“Of course not, go ahead. I’ll check the food tables. I think we’re ready to eat.”

Billie nodded goodbye, then began to make her way through the crowds. She’d worn her purple traveling outfit – it was sturdy and pretty. If she’d be sitting on the ground, she didn’t want to ruin a good day dress.

To her dismay, she found Lucien sitting under a tree on a blanket with Mrs. Ferguson and her niece. That feeling of dread hit again, sending a shiver up her spine. Lucien looked thoroughly engaged as he spoke with the young woman. Mrs. Ferguson looked just as smug as before, watching them with calculated interest.

Billie could calculate too, and the sum she came up with made her wish she could keel-haul the hotelier. So that’s what you have in mind, you craven Xanthippe – we’ll see about that! She squared her shoulders and marched to where they sat. “Hello, Lucien,” she said, then, “Hello again,” to Ottilie. She said nothing to Mrs. Ferguson, instead sitting on the blanket next to Lucien and taking his hand.

Mrs. Ferguson frowned and turned to Lucien. “How long have you worked at the bank again?”

“About four years now,” he said, patting Billie’s hand. “But you already know that, Mrs. Ferguson.”

“Oh yes, so I do.” She giggled. “Ottilie is very good with numbers, which will come in handy when she takes over the hotel for me.”

Ottilie jerked in surprise, her eyes widen. “But Auntie …”

“Don’t speak until you’re spoken to, dear,” Mrs. Ferguson snapped.

Ottilie closed her mouth and gave Billie a helpless look.

Billie shrugged. The poor girl. Mrs. Ferguson was very obviously using her to entice Lucien. She almost laughed, but knew that Mrs. Ferguson thought she could, because she assumed Lucien couldn’t be attracted to Billie. A week ago she might have thought the same – but now she just swatted the doubts aside and plotted her next move.

“Ottilie is also very good at needlework and sewing,” Mrs. Ferguson prattled on. “She’s going to make some lucky man a wonderful wife soon.”

“Soon,” Lucien repeated, leaning slightly toward Billie.

“Of course,” Mrs. Ferguson looked at Billie. “Probably sooner than we think.”

“Auntie …”

“Ottie, mind your manners,” Mrs. Ferguson scolded. She smiled at Lucien. “Ottie is her nickname.”

Lucien smiled and gave her niece a polite nod.

Billie sighed. This girl didn’t have a prayer if Mrs. Ferguson was pushing her to marry soon … of course! It had taken her a second to realize it, but the old biddy had given her a perfect opening. “Why, that’s wonderful!” she enthused, looking at Ottilie. “It will be so nice to have another newlywed around.”

Ottilie hesitated, but she had been spoken to. “Another newlywed?”

“Oh yes, did your aunt tell you? Lucien and I are marrying tomorrow!”

Next to her, she could feel every muscle in Lucien’s body relax. “We are so looking forward to it. It would be lovely if you could attend.”

“Oh, I’d love to!” Ottilie replied. “Could we, Auntie?”

Before Mrs. Ferguson could respond, there was a sudden commotion as more wagons came down the lane. “Great jumpin’ horny toads!” someone cried. “The Weavers are here!”

Lucien straightened. “Oh dear.”

Mrs. Ferguson blanched. “Quick, protect Ottie! I won’t have any of those heathens corrupt my niece!”

“As opposed to you doing it?”

Billie’s heart leaped at the sound of Nellie Davis’ voice. For some reason, she felt as if the Light Brigade had just arrived. “Nellie, you came.”

“Of course I came, dear. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Unfortunately I’ve already lost my husband – have any of you seen him?”

“Never mind about Mr. Davis,” Mrs. Ferguson cried. “Someone hide Ottie!”

“Mrs. Ferguson, calm yourself,” Lucien said.

“Quick, Lucien, take her to the house! Hide her in a bedroom upstairs!” She struggled to her feet, pulling her niece up with her, and shoved her at Lucien.

But her aim was off, and Ottilie went sprawling – right into Billie’s lap.

“Lucien Miller!” Mrs. Ferguson screeched. “What are you doing?”

At that moment, Lucien was sitting there in confusion, still holding Billie’s hand, his eyes flicking between his sweetheart and his tormentor. “Ma’am?”

Billie, knowing what was up, moved Ottilie to sit on her other side. “Don’t worry about the Weavers – from what I’ve heard they can get a bit rowdy, but they mean no harm.”

Mrs. Ferguson, meanwhile, hadn’t grasped that her ploy had. “Take your hands off of my niece this instant, Lucien!”

“My hands aren’t on her, Mrs. Ferguson.”

Nellie Davis just scoffed. “Connie, that’s got to be one of the oldest tricks in the book. The least you can do is be competent at it.”

Billie stifled a giggle. Ottilie just looked confused.

“How can you joke at a time like this?” Mrs. Ferguson shouted, drawing a crowd. Which was obviously her intent. “Lucien, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Lucien climbed to his feet. “I beg your pardon, but why did you shove your niece into my fiancée?”

Billie beamed at his use of fiancée.

“I did nothing of the kind. You snaked your arms around her and pulled her on top of you. I saw it.”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake,” Billie muttered. “We all saw you pushed her.”

“Why did you do that, Auntie?” Ottilie asked.

“And why do you think you’ll get away with that cock-and-bull story when you’ve got four witnesses who know you’re making it up?” Nellie added. “Now stop this nonsense before you scare your niece half to death. I declare, she’ll want to be on the first stage out of town.”

Mrs. Ferguson began to turn an interesting shade of red.

Billie stood, helped Ottilie up, and took her hand and Lucien’s. “Let’s go get some lemonade, shall we?” Both nodded and allowed Billie to lead them through the crowd to the refreshment tables.

“My aunt is acting strangely,” Ottilie said. “I apologize for her behavior.”

“It’s all right,” Billie replied. “I know what she’s up to. She wants you to be married, but at the moment Nowhere is a bit short of eligible bachelors. So she was hoping to swipe mine for you.”

Lucien pulled up short. “She was?!” He looked back in alarm, then turned to Billie. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, darling – I didn’t realize until now … I would never …”

Now Ottilie was confused. “But Auntie said I should marry you, that you’d make a fine husband.”

Billie bit her tongue momentarily to stop a rather sharp response. “Well, I think he shall as well. But he and I are getting married tomorrow – correct?”

“Absolutely,” Lucien replied. “Your aunt told you that I was available?”

“Yes. She wrote to me about you, and said you were the most eligible bachelor in town. She was quite adamant that I come to Nowhere so I could meet him. I’m way too young to marry, I think, but she was so insistent.”

Billie’s jaw trembled. She was so angry she wanted to cry. But she knew the harpy’s words were lies – looking in Lucien’s eyes, feeling his hand in hers, was all the proof she needed.