Chapter 25

Twenty-Five

"Come across any crumpled-up recipes buried in the dirt as you've been planting those lima beans?"

Camilla straightened after she stuck the last of her lima bean seeds into the ground, finding Charles standing a few feet away from her, holding a hoe and swiping a handkerchief over a forehead that was dotted with perspiration, as well as a great deal of dirt.

Her lips immediately curved. "I'll have you know that I've not run across a single recipe while I've been planting today, although don't think for a minute that Beulah wasn't considering that, at least until I caught her and Elma up to some shenanigans yesterday after you, Luella, and I returned from riding."

Charles folded his hands over the top of the hoe and leaned his chin on it, his eyes twinkling. "Shenanigans? Do tell."

"Well, if you'll recall, you and Luella stayed on Beulah's porch to visit with the sewing ladies while I went in to grab a bowl of water from the kitchen for Gladys and the hounds, since they'd been running after us all afternoon." She grinned. "Guilt does not begin to describe the expressions on Elma and Beulah's faces when I walked in on them in the midst of making more copies of the infamous recipe."

"I'm surprised neither of them thought to just hand you a copy as you walked."

"Oh, Elma tried, but I'm too savvy for that nonsense. And after I safely navigated my way to the cupboard to get the bowl, I then told them in no uncertain terms that if their attempts at skullduggery didn't stop, I was going to have no choice but to delve into some of my own."

Charles's brows drew together. "Do you even know how to delve into skullduggery?"

"Of course not, which Beulah immediately pointed out, but I don't think she was expecting what I said next—that I might not know how to carry out any skullduggery, but that Nems and the boys most certainly would, and that I wouldn't blink an eye over asking them to assist me with coming up with a few ideas that would teach Elma and Beulah a lesson." She smiled. "Needless to say, Beulah and Elma abandoned their pads of paper and pencils and retreated to the porch, Beulah muttering something about Nems being more of a menace than I am."

"I have no doubt Nems would be capable of some interesting skullduggery," Charles said, sending a nod across the garden to where Nems was sitting in his wheeled chair, under the shade of a maple tree. "He's not really a menace, though, even though he's been trailing after me as I've been planting potatoes, observing every move I've made." He gave his jaw a scratch. "I particularly enjoy when he decides I'm not planting properly, like an hour ago when he stopped me with a potato halfway in the ground and told me, and I quote—‘Dem dare taters ain't gonna grow right, boy, iffen you plant 'em upside downs.'"

"Nems calls you boy ?"

"Among other things, none of which are complimentary, but he's taken to slapping me on the back, which Owen told me means Nems likes me."

"You seemed fairly pleased about that."

Charles nodded. "It's nice to fit in for a change, and the men around these parts seem to accept me, especially after we went fishing and I caught the largest catfish of the day." He lowered his voice. "Don't tell anyone, but I had no idea how to get a catfish off the hook, what with their sharp spines, but as luck would have it, the fish I caught did some flopping about as I was carrying my fishing pole off to the side to ponder the matter and ended up hopping off the hook by itself." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "That allowed me to retain my dignity because I wasn't forced to swallow my pride and ask anyone for some much-needed assistance."

"A decidedly fortuitous event, but speaking of people accepting you—Luella certainly seems to enjoy spending the majority of her time in your company."

Charles ducked his head. "It's the oddest thing."

"What is?"

"Luella wanting to spend time with me."

"Why is that odd?"

"Because I'm odd, and I wouldn't expect a lady like Luella to give me a second look."

"Oh, she does more than give you a second look, Charles. She adores you, and I know you adore her because why else would you agree to go furniture shopping with her even when you knew I wasn't available to chaperone and Elma was?"

"It was worth Elma's company just to spend an afternoon with Luella."

"A telling statement if there ever was one, just like it was telling when Elma told me that you and Luella talked nonstop during that furniture expedition."

"We never seem to run out of things to say," Charles admitted. "Although we didn't actually talk nonstop since Elma interrupted the conversation quite a few times to dispense what she calls helpful advice pertaining to matters of romance."

Camilla laughed. "I've had my fair share of that type of advice from Elma and the sewing ladies, but tell me, what advice did she impart to you?"

"Well, most of it revolved around kissing."

Before Camilla could do more than emit a bit of a snort, Owen strode up to join them, handing her a glass of sweet tea.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he began.

"Not at all," she said, taking a sip of tea that soothed a throat she only then realized was downright parched. "Charles and I were just discussing kissing."

Owen's brows shot almost to his hairline as he immediately turned to Charles. "Any specific reason you'd be discussing kissing with Camilla?"

"I suppose we were discussing it because that's what Elma wanted to talk about when she was chaperoning Luella and me the other day."

"Why would Aunt Elma bring kissing into a conversation?" Owen asked.

Charles shrugged. "It's Elma. I have no idea what goes on in that mind of hers. If I were to hazard a guess, though, I'd say she's decided it's her role in life to dispense wisdom to younger generations."

"What kind of wisdom?"

"Most of it revolves around the idea that Elma's not in accord with the idea that couples who find themselves enamored with each other wait until they're married before they get around to doing what Elma said was ‘testin' the waters before you jump feet first into the pond.'"

"And that testing centers around kissing?"

"Apparently so."

Owen narrowed his eyes. "And what did Aunt Elma have to say about what's involved with that whole testing-the-water-first business?"

Charles took to blotting his forehead with his handkerchief again. "I'm not exactly sure because Elma does meander her way around a story. But from what I gathered, she's come to some interesting conclusions regarding relationships after being married to Seth McColloch, who was—and in her words—‘a no-good, lying, cheat of a man she never done should've married on account of her mama never givin' Seth the recipe cuz her mama done knew he weren't nothin' but a dog.'" Charles smiled. "Elma stopped her tale at that point to say she didn't mean any offense to any dogs out there because all the dogs in the Chesterfield family, as well as Camilla's, were far more upstanding creatures than Seth ever was."

Camilla couldn't resist a grin. "Elma does certainly know how to meander with a tale."

"Indeed," Charles agreed. "But after she said that bit about her late husband, she then went on to say that it's been her experience that if a couple isn't compatible in the kissing department, something she and Seth evidently weren't, they wouldn't be compatible in most areas. That's why she's evidently taken it upon herself to encourage couples to exchange a few kisses before any vows are spoken."

Owen's gaze sharpened on Charles. "Aunt Elma wasn't telling you this because she believes you and Luella should be trying to steal some kisses, was she?"

"I'm not a mind reader, Owen" was all Charles said to that.

"True, but I have the sneaking suspicion you think that's exactly what Aunt Elma was suggesting." Owen pressed his fingers to his temple, as if it was beginning to throb. "I'm going to have to have a chat with Aunt Elma because she will definitely not be chaperoning you and Luella again."

Charles dabbed his forehead again. "Elma's probably not going to like that because I get the distinct impression she relishes her chaperoning duties."

"Relishing or not, there's no possibility she'll be accompanying you and Luella again, and to make sure all the proprieties are going to continue being upheld..." Owen took a step closer to Charles. "You're going to promise me here and now that you'll never, as in ever, attempt to steal a kiss from my little sister."

Charles turned the hoe around a few times before he shook his head. "I don't believe I can, in good faith, promise you that."

"Why not?"

"One would think that's obvious."

Owen's face began turning an interesting shade of red. "You've been considering kissing my sister?"

"It might have crossed my mind a time or two."

Owen pressed his fingers to his temple again.

"At least he's honest with you," Camilla couldn't help pointing out.

"And while honesty is an admirable trait," Owen admitted, "that doesn't mean I'm not feeling a distinct urge to, well, it wouldn't be constructive to give Charles advance notice of what I may or may not do to him in the near future if I get the impression he's got kiss thievery on his mind again."

"From what Aunt Elma and the sewing ladies have told me, men have kissing on their minds most of the time," Camilla said.

"Aunt Elma just seems to have a bundle of less-than-helpful tidbits to dispense these days," Owen observed before he nodded to Charles. "However, since Camilla has just pointed out something that may have a lot of merit, you may now expect to have me as your constant shadow from this point forward. And, also know that if I catch you attempting to kiss my sister instead of merely thinking about it, there will be consequences, and not pleasant ones."

"If you're my constant shadow, I don't believe I'll have an opportunity to do more than imagine kissing her," Charles grumbled.

"You're doing absolutely nothing to make me want to set aside the urge to inflict some bodily harm."

Charles's lips curved into a grin, but before he could retort to that nonsense, Nems, who was still on the other side of the garden, released a whistle, waving at Charles a second later.

"Oh, would you look at that," Charles began. "Seems like Nems is ready to supervise me again. This time he'll be watching me plant corn." With that, Charles sent Camilla a wink, sent Owen another grin, then strode away.

"Remember, I'm your shadow from this point forward," Owen called after him.

"You need to stop being ridiculous," Camilla said, tugging him into motion and across the garden, even as Owen kept swiveling his head around to track Charles's progress, probably to ascertain that he wasn't sneaking off to find Luella instead of going to speak with Nems.

Unwilling to slow their pace since that might give Owen an opportunity to change their direction and go after Charles, Camilla settled for merely smiling at the numerous Chesterfield relatives who were calling out greetings to her, all of whom she'd met while attending church services with Owen over the past few Sundays, and all of whom had been more than welcoming after they'd made her acquaintance.

Truth be told, everyone she'd met during her stay in West Virginia had been hospitable, and she'd found herself more than enjoying the time spent amongst Owen's family and friends, delighting in the stories she heard about him as a child, and then learning about all the good he'd done in the community since he'd returned from college and taken his place in the family business.

Not only had Owen financed new schools, he'd also bankrolled the new wing at the local hospital, arranged for a charity pantry to open in town, and spent many an afternoon after work traveling to one relative's home or another to see if they were in need of anything.

As she'd listened to the stories and spent time with Owen's family, she'd found herself longing for the sense of kinship all of them enjoyed, as well as the sense of camaraderie that was always present.

She'd never experienced that before, having been an only child and growing up in a household where she rarely saw her parents or grandparents. On the occasional times everyone was together as a family, though, she'd been expected to behave with utmost decorum, never stepping a toe out of line, or, heaven forbid, getting a speck of dirt on any of her expensive garments.

One of the things she relished the most since leaving New York was the sense of freedom she'd found in West Virginia—a freedom to say what she wanted, dress how she wanted, and never worry that her disheveled hair or the dirt that was often smudged over her face or lingering under her nails would have Owen, or anyone else for that matter, finding fault with her.

"Done with the lima beans?" Beulah asked, materializing beside her and pulling Camilla out of her thoughts as Owen drew her to a stop.

"I am," Camilla returned. "I'm sure you'll be pleased to learn that Elma came by and inspected my work, declaring that for a city girl, I'd done an ‘a-okay' job of it."

"High praise coming from my sister."

"I thought so as well, and now that I'm finished doing an a-okay job with the lima beans, I'm heading back to Moonlight Manor to clean up before helping Mr. Timken, along with Luella, who's been more than proficient with organizing an outdoor gathering, with the final preparations for the family reunion."

Beulah took hold of Camilla's arm. "Before I forget, you and Luella might need to reconsider the name you've chosen for the country house."

"Why?"

"Nems and Andy have begun referring to it as Moonshine Manor, thinking that's a hoot, and ... I'm afraid their version is catching on with the family."

"I'm definitely going to have to include a bit during my next etiquette lesson with those two about it being less than amusing, or chivalrous, for that matter, to rename a manor house after moonshine."

"And that you've taken it upon yourself to disperse etiquette lessons to some of our more colorful characters leaves me longing to slip that recipe right into your pocket."

"Which you'll refrain from doing since those colorful characters, as you very well know, have said they'll assist me if you don't behave yourself."

"You truly are a menace."

Camilla smiled. "You know I adore you, as well."

"Of course you do, dear, but adoring me aside, tell me this. I couldn't help but notice that you seemed to be dragging poor Owen across the garden a few minutes ago. Care to share the reason behind that dragging?"

"Elma shared her kissing insights with Charles and Luella, and Owen, being Owen, isn't taking that very well."

Beulah grinned. "Leopold thought Elma's kissing insights were highly amusing."

Owen blinked. "Aunt Elma talked to Leopold about her views on kissing?"

"She did."

It wasn't exactly a surprise when Owen took to looking grumpy. "You don't think he's taking her wisdom to heart and might be even now contemplating the idea of trying to steal some kisses from you?"

Beulah's eyes began twinkling. "Who's to say he'd need to steal them?"

Owen shuddered ever so slightly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, but now, if the two of you will excuse me, I'm off to have a little chat with Leopold."

"He's out on the front porch, reading stories to the children," Beulah said before she stepped closer and gave Owen's cheek a pat. "Try not to embarrass yourself, dear, because while it's rather sweet that you're taking issue with all the inescapable romance floating around these days, take some wisdom from your dear old meemaw—sometimes things are simply meant to be, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop them."

"That's the worst piece of wisdom you've ever given me," Owen muttered before he kissed his grandmother's hand, told Camilla he'd be back momentarily, then strode off toward Beulah's cabin, clearly intent on getting to that little chat with Leopold as soon as possible.

"The poor dear," Beulah said, turning to Camilla. "You do realize that he's only concerning himself with everyone else's romantic interests because he's clearly overwhelmed by his own romantic issues, don't you?"

Camilla stilled. "I didn't realize Owen had romantic issues."

Beulah gave Camilla's arm a pat. "You know, I can't help but wonder, because you've spent so much of your time as a professional matchmaker, if, when it pertains to Owen's romantic issues, you're too close to the situation and can't notice what's right in front of you. Unable to see the forest for the trees, so to speak."

"I'm not really seeing anything in what you just said," Camilla admitted.

"Then allow me to explain more precisely—Owen's issues revolve around the idea that you still seem to be intending to return to New York in the not-so-distant future. I'm sure he doesn't want you to go, but he hasn't broached the matter with you because you've been so adamant about avoiding taking possession of the apple pie recipe."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with Owen's issues since he, being a man, obviously believes your determination to prevent me and Elma from slipping you that recipe by whatever means necessary equates to you wanting to make certain there's no possibility you'll find yourself married to him."

"But I don't actually believe in the power of the recipe. I've just been determined to thwart you and Elma because I consider avoiding taking possession of the recipe as just another one of the challenges you've sent my way, quite like whitewashing your fence."

Beulah's eyes widened. "Good heavens, child. The recipe isn't a challenge. It's a gift, and one that's only given to people we Chesterfields feel are worthy of becoming a part of our family."

Camilla took hold of Beulah's hand. "Then allow me to beg your pardon, Beulah. I certainly didn't mean to offend you by not truly realizing the importance of the recipe."

"Does that mean you'll accept it the next time I try to get it into your hands?"

Camilla considered the question for a long moment before she shook her head. "I'm afraid, since I'm not convinced Owen holds me in the kind of affection you're suggesting he does, that it wouldn't be fair for me to accept the recipe, not when it could lead to disappointing so many people I've come to care about if or when I return to New York."

"You said if ," Beulah said, a small smile curving her lips. "That speaks volumes and suggests that you hold my grandson in just as much affection as I know he holds for you."

"I'm not going to argue and say I don't care for Owen, but I'm still not going to accept the recipe from you."

Beulah patted Camilla's arm again. "Which is fine for now, dear. But I am going to expect you to contemplate this matter thoroughly when you're at your leisure. I assure you, if you do that, you'll undoubtedly come to the same conclusion I have."

"Which would be...?"

"That what you've happened upon here in West Virginia is not something you'll ever find back in New York. And, if you're unsure what I'm talking about, know that, to put it simply, what you've found is Owen , and he's your perfect match in every way."