Billie began to cough, though she hadn’t taken another sip. Abbey patted her on the back. “Are you all right?”

“Yes … cough … I’m sure I shall be.”

“I declare,” Nellie said. “I hope the mention of marriage doesn’t do this to you all the time.”

“Mother!” Charlotte said with a roll of her eyes.

“I did say I wouldn’t change overnight, didn’t I?”

“That’s beside the point.” Charlotte poured Billie more tea. “Here, drink this.”

Billie sipped slowly. Maybe if she prayed hard enough, they’d change the subject.

But that wasn’t about to happen. “Do you have a wedding dress?” Abbey asked.

Billie tried to clear her throat, with mixed results. “There wasn’t time.”

“Did you hear that, Charlotte?” Betsy exclaimed. “This poor dear needs a wedding dress!”

“Could we perhaps let her decide what she needs?” Charlotte groaned, reaching for a cookie.

“Betsy, control yourself,” Nellie said. “Leave the poor girl be. If she wants a dress, then I’m sure she’ll have you and Leona, or Abbey and Charlotte, or whomever else wants to get in on it help. Right now, let the poor thing breathe.”

Billie nodded vigorously in agreement. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Thank Heaven that was over. She didn’t dare tell them what was really going on. If they found out Mr. Miller was about to purchase her stage fare out of town, what would they think then? Nellie already had enough ammunition to damage Billie’s reputation if she chose. Not that others hadn’t tried, and like Nellie she’d never have to see them again. Let them think she was ruined. She and the Lord knew the truth.

“My mother’s right,” Abbey said breaking into her thoughts. “Any one of us would be happy to help you make a dress, if that’s what you want.”

Billie held her cup in both hands, enjoying the warmth. It would be nice to have an actual wedding dress, she mused, if I was actually getting married. “I’ll give it some thought,” she replied, stalling for time. “Were you married here?”

“Yes, and what a day that was!” Abbey laughed.

Nellie put a hand to her temple. “I try not to think about it.”

“Oh, Mother!” Charlotte turned to Billie. “It was quite a day – it changed my life as well as Abbey’s.”

Billie wasn’t sure if she should ask Charlotte to explain.

Betsy Quinn resolved it for her. “Elle and Spencer Riley were supposed to be getting married, but then Abbey and Billy got married instead. And the whole event … well, kind of shocked Charlotte out of some bad habits, I think.”

“Well put, Mother Quinn,” Charlotte replied with some amusement. “And just in time for Matthew to return to town – though that led to a tangle of its own.”

Betsy nodded. “We’ll have to tell you all about it sometime, Miss Sneed. Right now I need to go mind the store so Matthew can take a break.” She set her cup down and stood. “Coming, Nellie, or did you want to visit a while longer?”

“I think I’ll visit,” Nellie said. “It’s not often I get to have tea with the ladies.”

“Very well. I’ll go fill your list.” Betsy headed for the storefront as Charlotte began to refill everyone’s cup.

Except for Billie’s - she was sipping hers slowly in case someone brought up Mr. Miller again. She’d have to be careful not to be taken by surprise and spew tea all over the cookies. How embarrassing would that be?

“Have you seen Lucien’s house yet?” Nellie asked.

Billie set down her cup so as to not risk an accident. “No, not yet.”

“He’s quite proud of it,” Nellie informed her. “Oversaw the building of it himself.”

Charlotte nodded. “I helped him pick out a few things, though only a few. Lucien Miller isn’t just an educated man, but he also has very good taste.”

“Is it true he comes from back east?” Abbey asked.

“Connecticut,” Nellie said. “If you ask me, he’s quite a catch. You’re a lucky woman, Miss Sneed.”

“Why, Mother, what a nice thing to say,” Abbey said. “And I have to agree – educated, gentlemanly and very handsome.”

Billie smiled weakly and looked away. He was all that and more. And none of them were saying it, but they had to be thinking: how could a man as gorgeous as Lucien Miller marry a monstrosity like Billie Sneed?

“Cookie?” Charlotte asked and offered the plate to Billie.

“Thank you, but … I’m rather tired. You don’t mind if I return to the hotel, do you?”

The three women exchanged a look. “No, not at all,” Charlotte said.

“My husband and I are in town for a couple of weeks,” Abbey said. “You’ll let me know if you’d like some help with your dress?”

Billie’s smile was heartfelt. These women were so nice, even Mrs. Davis, the reputed harbinger of ruined reputations. The more time she spent with them, the harder it would be to leave. “Yes, I’ll let you know.” She put her cup and saucer down, picked up her reticule and stood.

“I really wish you could stay and visit a little longer,” Charlotte replied. “But we understand you being tired and all. Let us know as soon as you and Lucien have a date – we’d love to attend your wedding.”

Billie felt a lump of guilt settle in her gut. “Certainly.”

Abbey and Nellie also prepared to leave, and the women escorted Billie to the storefront, said their goodbyes and happily waved as she departed.

Once outside Billie exhaled. She didn’t dare spend any more time with them – it would only make leaving harder. If she was smart, she’d return to the hotel and stay there. The only reason to see Lucien Miller at this point was to get her stage and train tickets from him. With a heavy heart, she took one last look at the mercantile before walking away.

“How about Saturday?” Mabel Lewis the preacher’s wife asked.

“Yes, that’s fine,” Lucien said happily. He put on his hat and stood. “Ten o’clock?”

“Yes indeedy.” She jotted it down in a little book and got up from the desk. “Lucien, I know it’s none of my business, but are you sure this is what you want?”

“Mabel, I sent away for a mail-order bride in order to marry her. That’s how it works.”

“Yes, but …” She stopped and fidgeted.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “But what?”

She made a face. “Well… I hear that the woman isn’t exactly, erm …” She made a circular motion with her hand. “… what one would expect.” She folded her hands primly in front of her and gave him a motherly look.

He knew she was only looking out for him, unlike some others who’d voiced their opinions. But he still didn’t like the insinuation. He crossed his arms. “Are you referring to her eyepatch, her scars or her size?”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Just how big is she?”

“Smaller than I am.” Now he was curious as to what the gossips – specifically, Mrs. Ferguson – were saying. “What have you heard?”

Mabel looked away and let her hands fall to her sides. “Oh, I haven’t heard a thing.”

“Mabel, you’re a rotten liar.”

“Lack of practice, what with being the preacher’s wife.” She met his gaze again. “Connie Ferguson told me she’s big as a house.”

“Did she,” Lucien said flatly, running his hand through his hair. “Didn’t your husband preach recently about vanity being a sin?”

Mabel tapped her fingers against her thigh and sighed. “So that’s no excuse not to marry the girl. It’s just that Connie made your bride sound so … so …”

“What?” he asked sharply. “Disreputable? Questionable? Unattractive?”

“Attraction in marriage is important, Lucien,” she said, wagging her finger.

“Quite right. But who says I do not find her attractive, simply because Connie Ferguson doesn’t?”

“That’s true.” She looked at the floor. “Forgive my prying – I was wrong to bring it up. Who you marry is entirely up to you.” She absently brushed at her skirt, then looked at him. “Ten o’clock Saturday morning.”

Lucien sighed and smiled. “Right. And thank you for looking out for me, Mabel.”

“I just want to see you happy. I’ve been witness to so many wonderful weddings over the years, couples still going strong and loving each other more every day. I want you to have the same, that’s all.”

Lucien nodded. Mabel and Pastor James Lewis had no children, but had adopted the citizens of Nowhere as their own over the years. They were a precious couple that looked out for everyone. “Thank you,” he said again.

He left the preacher’s house and returned to the bank. He worked to finish up before closing time and didn’t want to stay late – he wanted to take Billie to dinner again and inform her of their wedding date. He hoped she didn’t feel rushed – Saturday was only four days away. In truth, he didn’t want to wait that long, but if Billie needed more time he’d bear it. She was worth waiting for.

It wasn’t that he wanted to rush her into his bed, though that did have strong appeal. It was because she seemed so … lost. She was a woman drifting, with no place to anchor or call her own. He wanted to give her that stability – and a lot of things he hadn’t thought of before. He wanted to show her things, teach her things, give to her parts of himself he’d never given anyone else.

He knew something was wrong, but still didn’t know what. It was more than the obvious, the incident that caused her injury. Could it be she felt she wasn’t ready to marry? It was possible. He was a nurturer by nature, and Billie Jane Sneed needed someone to take great care with her heart, especially after what she’d been through. But he didn’t want her to think he pitied her, and especially didn’t want her to think he was marrying her out of pity.

Mabel wasn’t the first to ask if he was having second thoughts. Mr. Davis had brought it up this morning and he hadn’t met Billie either. Who knew what Nellie had told her husband? And how many more people would try to talk him out of marrying Billie before the day was out, not to mention the week? Well, he knew what he wanted, even if they didn’t. He couldn’t live his life on their opinions.

“Lucien, what are you doing wandering around?” Spencer Riley asked as he passed the sheriff’s office.

“Good afternoon, Spencer,” he said with a nod. “I’m just heading back to the bank after speaking with Mabel Lewis.”

“Ah. Where’s Pastor Lewis?”

“Out at the Johnson place. Old Man Johnson’s sick. I don’t think it’s anything serious, though.”

“I ought to stop by on my way home. So were you talking to Mabel about your wedding date?”

“I sure was.” Lucien grinned. “Saturday morning at ten, if you’d like to attend.”

Spencer shoved his hat back. “So you’re going to go through with it, eh?”

Lucien groaned. “Saints preserve me, not you, too?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Never mind. Yes, I’m going to marry my lovely mail-order bride come Saturday, provided she has no objections.” Anyone else with objections could, in the words of one of his Yale professors, go take a long walk off a short pier.

“If she has none?” Spencer said in surprise. “I’d think it’d be the other way around.”

“Why would you think that?” Lucien pressed. “Based on what you saw when the stage pulled in?”

“Well, I got a good eyeful, like everyone else. You sure this is what you want?”

Lucien counted to five before answering. “Yes, it is. I sent for a bride. Miss Sneed is what I got. And I will have you know she exceeded my wildest expectations. Do you have a problem with that, Sheriff?”

Spencer held up his hands. “Whoa, no need to get uppity. I’m just saying …”

“Yes, you are, and now you can kindly stop saying. I’ve made up my mind and I’m getting married. Just because you don’t think she’s right for me doesn’t mean I think she’s any less a woman.”

Spencer chuckled. “On the contrary, Lucien. She’s more woman than I could handle.”

Lucien seethed. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Spencer.”

Spencer looked him in the eyes. “I’m just making sure you’re doing this because you want to, friend, not because you feel obligated to.”

“Thank you, but be assured I want to.” Lucien took a few deep breaths to cool his anger. “It seems to me people are judging Billie on her looks – or rather, their opinion of her looks – and not on what matters most or what I think of her. That woman has been through a horrible ordeal. She’s scarred not just on the outside, but the inside – I’d stake my life on it. And even then, I find her …” Another breath while he searched for the right word. “… enchanting.”

“Well,” Spencer said. “Then forget I said anything. If you’re sure you’re getting a good woman, that’s good enough for me. And everyone in town knows she’s getting a good man.”

Lucien unclenched the fists he didn’t realize he’d made. There was no sense getting angry with Spencer – like Mabel, he was just looking out for him. However ham-handedly. “Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot.”

Spencer nodded. “You’re welcome. And the wife and I will be there Saturday, good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.”

“See you then.” Lucien turned and strode away, praying that no one else asked him if he was really going to marry Billie. If anyone did, he was liable to land himself in one of Spencer’s jail cells for assault.