The Engagement Bargain

“What’s a husking bee?” Anna asked, her head turned toward him, her expression curious and devoid of the fright he’d seen earlier.

Despite the pain and the forced confinement, she’d not complained, not once that he’d heard. She’d soldiered on through the worst of conditions. Caught in her trusting gaze, the last of his reluctance melted away.

He might not be the storyteller in the family, but for Anna, he’d give his best effort. “Back in the day, a farmer put up his corn in the barn before winter came and husked it at his leisure during the cold months. But old farmer Bainum had a better idea. He figured if all the ladies gathered every Saturday for a quilting bee, then all the fellows could hold a husking bee. He figured if he disguised the work as a party, he’d get a lot of help. That first year, he rolled out a barrel of his best hard apple cider, and every able-bodied man in the county showed up. Except Bainum cider is strong stuff. Only half the husking was finished before the boys decided they were having more fun drinking than husking.”

The doctor muttered something unintelligible.

The groan that came from Anna’s lips died in a hiss. His heart clenched at the sight of her distress. He’d never felt so helpless, so utterly inadequate.

Her grimace eased and she said, “Liquor has never been conducive to work.”

“Not even in the country,” Caleb babbled, desperate to keep her mind off her hurts. “Old Mr. Bainum was stuck husking the rest of the corn himself, and he’d given up a whole barrel of apple cider for his trouble. The next year he had an even better idea. He’d invite the ladies. Even though he’d been widowed longer than he’d been married, he knew enough from family gatherings and church picnics to realize a thing or two about ladies. A wife never showed up at an event without a covered dish, and they always kept an eye on how much cider the men drank.”

“Sounds like more work for the women.” Anna hoisted a disapproving eyebrow.

“He thought of that, as well. Once all the corn was husked, old farmer Bainum decided to throw a barn dance. Around Cimarron Springs, the ladies always like a good dance. Mr. Bainum made a game of the husking, too. He threw in a couple of ears of red corn. When a young man discovered an ear of red corn, he was allowed one kiss with the lady of his choice.”

The doctor lifted another stitch free.

For a brief moment, Anna’s face contorted in pain. “What if a lady found the red ear?”

“Then she made certain that red ear made its way into the stack of the fellow she was sweet on.”

“Did you ever find the red ear?” she asked, then winced.

The doctor murmured an apology.

Maintaining his perch on the opposite side of Anna, Caleb touched her shoulder. “Don’t get ahead of the story.” Though she was clearly uncomfortable, his tale was distracting her, and for that he was grateful. “This is about my cousin Gus. You see, one particularly memorable husking bee, we were all sitting around on stools, shucking the corn and throwing the ears onto the floor in the center, when my cousin Gus found the first red ear and asked Becky Bainum for a kiss.”

“Mr. Bainum’s daughter?”

“The one and only.”

“How outrageous. What did Mr. Bainum think?”

“Old farmer Bainum was not happy about Gus’s selection. You see, the Bainums fought for the Confederate Army during the War Between the States. The McCoys, being of good, strong Irish stock and having arrived at the Castle Garden Depot as fast as the County Cork could send them, lived in the North and fought for the North. Sometimes voluntarily, sometimes by order of President Lincoln. One thing you have to know around these parts, the war never really ended for some folks, especially old farmer Bainum.”

“Poor Gus.”

“Don’t feel bad for him just yet. Gus found three more red ears in less than an hour.”

Anna grimaced. “How did Becky feel about all those kisses? Could she refuse if she wanted?”

“She didn’t mind a bit.” Caleb grinned. “Old Mr. Bainum was another story. A man who’d gotten his neighbors to husk his corn and bring all the food for the party afterward is no fool. He knew well enough the McCoys didn’t have that kind of luck. No Irishman does. That’s when Mr. Bainum decided to fire up the pot-bellied stove.”

The doctor blotted the wound with an alcohol soaked pad, and Anna sucked in a breath. Her skin grew ashen. “Isn’t a fire in the barn, even in a stove, dangerous with all those dry husks lying around?”

“Old farmer Bainum took the risk.” Though he kept his voice even, Caleb battled the guilt swamping him. Seeing her in pain invoked a fury he’d never experienced before, along with a deep sense of tenderness. The two disparate emotions raged a battle within him. “Mr. Bainum stoked that stove until it burned hot. Soon enough, everybody took off their coats and rolled up their shirtsleeves. Everyone except Gus.”

A knowing smile stretched across her strained and pale face. “How long did he last with his coat on?”

Caleb’s stomach dipped. He shouldn’t be staring at her lips while talking about kisses. This was hardly the time or place for amorous thoughts. “Through two more kisses. Finally got too hot. Gus pulled off his coat, and six more red ears of corn fell out.”

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