Camilla shifted El Cid to her other arm. “She seems convincedthat even though I was born into the elite world of New York high society, I’m not meant for that world. Beulah evidently has concluded that, quite like Gladys, my place is here, living a life far removed from the frivolities that make up the Four Hundred.”
“Don’t you miss those frivolities?”
Camilla shrugged. “In all honesty, I haven’t had time to think about my time in New York since I’ve been much too busy whitewashing fences, doling out etiquette advice to Nems and his friends, and attending quadrille practices.” She set El Cid, who’d started to squirm, on the ground. “Luella even took me crawdad hunting the other day, which, after I got over my fear of those somewhat terrifying creatures, turned into an amusing few hours. Bernadette, to my surprise, decided to join us as well, forgoing a nap she’d planned to take, although she might have done that because she knew Nems was going to tag along with us.”
“Luella told me Nems might be sweet on Bernadette.”
“Oh, he is, and has been trying to impress her lately. Frankly, I think she’s been enjoying Nems’s attention. She’s certainly been asking a lot of questions about him to Sally and her friends while she styles their hair, since apparently everyone seems to be related around here, if distantly.”
“Meemaw mentioned you’ve been encouraging Bernadette to take on clients—and paying clients at that.”
“Bernadette enjoys having the prominent ladies of Wheeling clamor for her hairdressing skills,” Camilla began. “And since I don’t need her to dress and style me during the day because, what’s the point when I’m doing manual labor for Elma, I thought having her spend her days doing something she loves would keep her out of trouble.” She smiled. “Add in the fact that when she’s not doing hair, she’s altering Luella’s clothing, and trouble doesn’t seem to be in Bernadette’s schedule these days.”
Owen took hold of Camilla’s arm. “Speaking of trouble,” he began as they walked toward the forest, “you’re not trying to secure a match between Nems and Bernadette, are you?”
“As if I’ve had time lately to concentrate on matchmaking.”
“You know you always have time for matchmaking.”
A rather telling smile was her only reply to that, but before he could do more than appreciate the sight of the smile, Meemaw and Luella rode into view, pulling up their horses the moment they spotted them.
“We heard shots,” Meemaw said, swinging from her saddle as Luella did the same.
Owen nodded. “One was from Camilla because a bear—not Teddy—had Gladys cornered. The other was from me after Camilla shot to distract it, but the bear turned on her instead of running away. Thankfully, my shot scared it off.”
“Well, thank goodness no one was hurt, including the bear,” Meemaw said before she stepped up to Camilla, gave her a hug, then took to giving her a few soothing pats on the back. “What say, since you’ve suffered such a fright, we forget all about Elma telling you to clean out my chicken coop today?”
Camilla’s brow furrowed. “And deprive the ladies of the sewing bee another opportunity to amuse themselves by doling out what they claim is helpful advice? Absolutely not.” With that, Camilla began heading down the hill, declining Luella’s offer of riding behind her on her horse, saying the walk would be an excellent way to banish any lingering feminine sensibilities she’d been experiencing after a near bear attack.
After exchanging amused looks with Meemaw, and then having no choice but to head after Camilla when Meemaw gave him a none-too-subtle push in Camilla’s direction, he caught up with her a moment later, taking her arm when she stumbled over a tree root.
Once Camilla found her balance, he caught her eye. “You know you really don’t need to clean out Meemaw’s chicken coop, don’t you, because if you ask me, Aunt Elma might be taking this whole chore business of hers a little too far with that request.”
Camilla waved that aside. “It’s a matter of pride at this point. I mean, granted, I know I’m rubbish at most of the tasks—or rather,all the tasks—Elma gives me, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of concluding that a city girl doesn’t have enough grit to complete everything she throws at me.”
“Did she actually tell you that?”
“Right after I had a tussle with the wringer on her washing machine.” Camilla’s eyes began to twinkle again. “There I was, attempting to figure out the mechanics of that horrible contraption, when I got the hem of Beulah’s apron stuck in it. Elma, unfortunately, discovered me stuck to the machineand. . . I might have been talking to it. That, of course, had Elma questioning my sanity, as well as suggesting I lacked grit because of my city-girl status, since I wasn’t finding much success getting unstuck.”
He swallowed a laugh. “What were you saying to the washing machine?”
“Oh, you know, just that it needed to start cooperating, and I might’ve added something about it not being my fault I was stuck to it when I’d never had an opportunity to wash clothes before.”
“I don’t imagine you’ve ever had an opportunity to clean out a chicken coop either.”
“Which is why I’m just all aflutter to get back to Meemaw’s cabin.”
“Where Meemaw’s sewing club will apparently be waiting to lend you some more invaluable advice?”
“I would say it’s more along the lines of interesting advice over invaluable, although I did finally discover what those ramps are that Nems apparently enjoys.”
“They’re like onions and can be found along creeks.”
“That’s what the ladies told me.” Camilla grinned. “They also told me there are rules that come with eating ramps, and that you weren’t in the wrong for pointing out that Nems smelled that day because everyone is supposed to be aware that you don’t eat ramps past Thursday, as ramps can cause a revolting smell to emit from the skin for days after. And, according to Mrs. Johnson, who has aremarkable proficiency with embroidery by the way, no one wants to be ‘the stink in the church service’—her words, not mine.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
“Oh, I’ve been given a lot of true words of late. The ladies are especially keen to throw tidbits at me that are romantic in nature and revolve around things I need to do to keep your attention firmly settled on me. And no, I won’t be sharing any specific details with you because that’ll just embarrass us both.”
