The Texan′s Engagement Agreement
The Texan's Engagement Agreement
Noelle Marchand
Second Chance ReunionIt’s been five years since Adelaide Harper broke Chris Johansen’s heart—and their long-distance engagement. But when she steps off a train in Peppin, Texas, and strolls back into Chris’s life, he can’t help but panic. Because to avoid his parents’ plan to arrange a marriage for him, he’s let his family believe he and Adelaide are still engaged.Adelaide is facing her own troubles with a matchmaking mama and a parade of aggravating suitors. So pretending to let Chris court her could help them both. And after five years, there’s no need to worry that the time together will reignite their long-buried love…is there?Bachelor List Matches: A hand-picked bride for every bachelor in small-town Texas.
Second Chance Reunion
It’s been five years since Adelaide Harper broke Chris Johansen’s heart—and their long-distance engagement. But when she steps off a train in Peppin, Texas, and strolls back into Chris’s life, he can’t help but panic. Because to avoid his parents’ plan to arrange a marriage for him, he’s let his family believe he and Adelaide are still engaged.
Adelaide is facing her own troubles with a matchmaking mama and a parade of aggravating suitors. So pretending to let Chris court her could help them both. And after five years, there’s no need to worry that the time together will reignite their long-buried love...is there?
Bachelor List Matches: A handpicked bride for every bachelor in small-town Texas
Chris couldn’t discern any pain or fear on his father’s face to show that his heart was bothering him again.
He was flushed, but it only seemed to be with excitement, so Chris reluctantly allowed his attention to be drawn elsewhere.
It landed on the woman standing just in front of his father. She was beautiful. She was familiar. She was achingly familiar.
He caught her chin, tilted her face upward and got lost in the ocean of her blue eyes. “Adelaide.”
A fleeting smile touched her lips. “Hello, Chris.”
“What are you doing here?”
Olan slapped Chris’s back just hard enough to knock some sense into him. “Son, is that any way to greet your fiancée?”
Time slowed. Chris knew exactly what was going to happen. The truth was going to come out. He could almost see the disbelief, the shock, the disappointment on his father’s face. His imagination went even further until he saw Olan’s face whiten, his hand covering his heart as he sank to his knees in pain. Chris couldn’t let that happen. Instinctively, he caught Adelaide by the arms, then stifled whatever she’d been planning to say with a quick, ardent kiss.
NOELLE MARCHAND is a native Houstonian living out her childhood dream of being a writer. She graduated summa cum laude from Houston Baptist University in 2012, earning a bachelor’s degree in mass communications and speech communications. She loves exploring new books and new cities. When she’s not scribbling out her latest manuscript, you may find her pursuing one of her other passions—music, dance, history and classic movies.
The Texan’s Engagement Agreement
Noelle Marchand
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Therefore, seeing we also are compassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
—Hebrews 12:1–2
Dedicated to you.
Contents
Cover (#u920c75d6-2d18-576e-b0be-1a9ab14fe1cf)
Back Cover Text (#uec0f864d-5739-5212-911d-24e1ede62067)
Introduction (#uf5672d81-6c27-587a-872b-70f39637f38e)
About the Author (#ud46fd9d6-fea3-5edb-b0e9-35c7aa4d5fe5)
Title Page (#ud2e435bf-eb4a-501c-935f-37d3e22c1cc0)
Bible Verse (#udbbc9695-2c98-5543-96c3-a74103bdf4a8)
Dedication (#u7d83afaf-5fd1-57f0-afa1-5c0aa19a68ba)
Chapter One (#udf6971ba-9d6d-559a-8f2a-387dc6d6ffbc)
Chapter Two (#udaf87751-aebe-527c-8ffb-9cd13875309d)
Chapter Three (#u7428531e-cd1f-52d3-bbf0-57621e56d7e9)
Chapter Four (#uc5b3bea4-e857-5439-adf4-9700ab79b20f)
Chapter Five (#ub44a01f5-357a-5ba3-97a2-7bdbab0865bb)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_890b967e-e8d1-548b-b222-115af008b6d9)
March 1889
Peppin, Texas
Chris Johansen was running out of time. Worse yet, he was running out of women.
He had to find a bride before his parents figured out his long-distance engagement to the sweetheart of his youth had ended years ago. If they did, they’d send for a mail-order bride from their old country of Norway faster than he could say “Goodbye, freedom.” Or, “Hello, stranger.”
He’d tried to find himself a wife among the women of Peppin, but all he had to show for his efforts was a bruised ego. Every single one of the women he’d expressed an interest in had turned him down flat. They’d also turned right around and married other men within months or even weeks of his failed proposal. Isabelle Bradley was no exception. He’d proposed to her only a few weeks ago. Now, in a matter of minutes, she was going to marry the town blacksmith and become Mrs. Rhett Granger. Chris had been asked to play his fiddle at the reception. First, he was supposed to collect his twenty-year-old sister, Sophia, from their parents’ house.
The rich strains of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” grew louder as he approached the front door. He followed the music to the parlor where his father, Olan, served as conductor for his siblings. Fifteen-year-old Viktor avoided Chris’s gaze, concentrating on his cello. Hans, the brother whose birth had come as a surprise to their parents eight years ago, sacrificed a few warbling notes of the flute to offer a gap-toothed grin. August, at eighteen the brother closest in age to Chris, caught his eye and offered a sympathetic look.
As the tension built, Chris waited until his father’s decisive, swirling hand motion brought the music to a halt before saying, “Please, tell me the only inspiration for this music is the wedding ceremony for Rhett and Isabelle.”
August lowered his viola and shook his head. “Pa found a bride for you.”
“Congratulations,” Viktor mumbled in an apologetic tone.
Chris glanced to his father for confirmation. Olan nodded. Chris swallowed hard. “Pa, we need to talk.”
Chris didn’t wait for Olan’s response. He just turned on his heel and walked out onto the front porch, where his father joined him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Olan said, “but please just hear me out.”
Chris gave a single nod before sitting beside Olan on the porch swing. “Son, how long has it been since you’ve seen Adelaide?”
“About five years, I reckon.”
His father shook his head. “And she’s still holding you to a promise you made five years ago.”
Not exactly. Chris glanced away, resisting the urge to loosen his shoestring tie. The stranglehold he felt had nothing to do with his tie and everything to do with guilt. When his parents had sat him down right after graduation to talk about his future, he’d told the truth by admitting his unannounced engagement to Adelaide Harper. At the time, he’d believed that she would follow through on her promise to return to Peppin one day and become his wife. However, Adelaide had broken off their engagement four years ago.
Chris had neglected to mention that small fact to his parents. Only Sophia knew, because she happened to be with him when he’d received Adelaide’s last letter. Thankfully, she hadn’t breathed a word about it to anyone.
“Adelaide ought to have sense enough to marry you. Or, at least, break things off so that you can marry a good Norwegian girl like Britta Solberg.”
Chris narrowed his eyes. “Just a minute. Who is Britta Solberg?”
“Your aunt Karen’s friend’s cousin. By all reports, she is a steady, sensible girl.”
“Who is looking for passage to America?”
His father looked downright insulted. “And what’s wrong with that? It was only twelve years ago that we arrived in America ourselves. Don’t forget that, or that not everyone back home is able to arrange a passage over here. It’s our duty to help our family and friends. There isn’t enough land to go around for farmers in the country. The factories in the cities barely pay enough for the workers to live on.”
“I know, Pa.”
“Then, please, be reasonable.” Olan stood and placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “I understand that your heart is attached to Adelaide, but is it possible that hers is not as attached to you?”
Knowing the answer to that, Chris couldn’t hold his father’s dark blue gaze.
“You are my oldest son and the epitome of everything that goes with that mantle—sensible, responsible, intelligent and a good example to your younger siblings. You deserve a woman who can match you. If you think that woman is Adelaide, then do something to fight for her. Otherwise, give Britta a chance.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the truth about everything. Yet, how could he? If his father was pressuring him this hard while under the impression that Chris was practically engaged to someone else, how much worse would it be if the truth came out?
Everything else in his life seemed planned for him, was it so horrible that he wanted to pick the woman he’d spend the rest of his life with? He knew exactly the kind he wanted, too. She would be someone who evoked only the safe, companionable kind of love. He’d had more than enough of the all-consuming variety and the heartbreak that went with it.
Olan squeezed Chris’s shoulder before releasing it. “Think about what I said, but don’t take too long to do so. I want to see at least one of my children married and, perhaps if the Lord is especially generous, hold my first grandchild.”
Chris knew his father’s words didn’t stem from impatience but fear. Doc said that Olan’s time on Earth was limited. How limited, it was impossible to guess. One thing was for certain, stress made Olan’s heart flutters and pains come stronger and more often. Chris, along with his mother, sister and three younger brothers did their best to keep the atmosphere at home and the store light, comfortable and peaceful. However, they all feared a day might be coming when their efforts wouldn’t be enough.
Sophia interrupted his somber ruminations by stepping onto the porch. “Chris, I’m ready. We’d better go. I don’t want to be late.”
Chris barely managed to wait until they were out of their father’s earshot before saying, “Tell me everything you know about this Bridget Saltzberg person.”
“Well, I know her name is Britta Solberg, but that’s pretty much it. No, wait. I do know one more thing.” She pinned him with her ice-blue eyes. “You sure as shooting better not marry this woman because that will set a precedent, and there is no way I’m marrying some man I’ve never met from a country I hardly remember. Just tell our parents you won’t do it.”
“Have you forgotten that you’re the only one who gets away with the saying no to our parents?” He released a long-suffering sigh. “They’ve spoiled you rotten, princess.”
She gave an offended little laugh. “Surely, I deserve a little of it after growing up with four brothers and no sisters.”
“Hmm. That’s debatable.”
She rolled her eyes, then joined arms with him and nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t give up on finding someone, Chris. You can’t.”
He covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her encouragement was sweet even if it wasn’t entirely altruistic. They didn’t have time to discuss it any further for they arrived at Bradley’s Boardinghouse where the wedding was set to take place. As they walked up the sidewalk laid out on the boardinghouse’s immaculate lawn, Chris couldn’t help shaking his head, “I can’t believe the Bradleys are selling this place.”
Sophia stopped in her tracks. “They are? How do you always know these things before I do?”
“You didn’t know?” He grinned when she shook her head. “You’ve got to do a better job of keeping your ear to the ground. I guess you also don’t know that Isabelle’s father is going to take over running the hotel, which is why they are going to have the reception there. Or, that Isabelle and Rhett bought a new house to live in after they return from visiting his family. Meanwhile, her family will be moving to a house just down the street from theirs—”
“Thank you, town crier, but I’d like to see the bride walk down the aisle if you don’t mind.”
She was right to urge him onward, for they ended up being the last guests to take their seats. The bride was radiant. The groom looked more confident than Chris had ever seen him, which was saying something since Rhett had always been awkward around women. There was no stammering or hesitating from the bride or groom as they said their vows.
A few minutes, later Chris kissed the bride’s cheek and offered his congratulations to the groom. Rather than releasing his hand after the handshake, Rhett caught his arm and hauled him into the empty kitchen. Chris managed to pull away from Rhett’s grasp and frowned at him. “Hey, what’s all this about?”
“Sorry for the manhandling. I need to get back to my guests and my bride so this has to be quick. Since Isabelle didn’t accept your proposal, am I right to assume that you’re still looking for a wife?”
Chris grimaced. “Yes, but I’d rather keep that news quiet if I can.”
“You do realize you’ve tried to court nearly every woman in town, right?”
“Yes, but I assumed they’d all be good enough to keep it to themselves, or at the very least to each other. As it is, my parents don’t know I’m looking for a wife and that’s the way I want to keep it.”
“They won’t hear it from me. The reason I pulled you over here was to give you something that should help.” Rhett glanced surreptitiously at the kitchen door before pulling a folded piece of paper out of his suit-coat pocket and holding it between them. “Wherever this thing goes, love seems to follow.”
“Is that...”
Rhett nodded. “The Bachelor List.”
“Really?” Chris almost didn’t recognize the hushed, eager, nearly awed tone of his own voice. “Do you have any idea how much I pestered Ellie for a look at that?”
Their friend Ellie Williams was the most successful matchmaker in town. Her list of all the eligible men in Peppin—lined up with who she saw as their matches—had sparked a bit of a frenzy among the bachelors last fall. It had also helped her find her own match with her childhood-friend-turned-husband Lawson. However, she seemed to resent the attention it had brought her, and refused to answer any questions about who any man’s match might be.
Chris wasn’t sure how Rhett had ended up with it. At the moment, he didn’t care. This list would point him in the direction of the woman who was meant for him. The love stuff he could figure out later.
He reached for the first real hope of success he’d had in months, only to see it disappear behind Rhett’s back. Rhett gave him a tempering look. “Not so fast. This is a very powerful list—or, rather, God’s been using it in very powerful ways. Quinn Tucker was able to convince Helen to marry him simply by showing her this...and because she loved the nieces and nephews in his custody who needed a mother. This list helped me recognize that I was in love with Isabelle and set me on the quest to win her heart. I know God will use it for good in your life, too, or else I wouldn’t have felt prompted to give it to you. However, like anything with power, it comes with rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
“You have to keep it safe and keep it secret. Don’t change anything on it. If Ellie finds out you have it, she’ll ask for it. Don’t give it back to her. Instead, pass it along to another bachelor—as the Lord directs you, of course. Do you agree to all that?”
“I agree. Now may I have it?”
Rhett handed over the list, patted Chris on the shoulder and then left, presumably to return to his bride. Alone in the kitchen, Chris wasted no time in unfolding the list. He scanned the column of names for his own. Finding it, his gaze also landed on the name of the woman with whom he’d been matched. His jaw clenched.
Adelaide Harper.
This made no sense. Why would Ellie match him with a woman who no longer even lived in Peppin? Actually, it wasn’t that hard to guess. Ellie had been part of their childhood crowd. She must have seen them together and thought exactly what Chris had—that they were meant for each. That, somehow, someway, Adelaide would return to him and they would be together.
They’d all been wrong. He and Adelaide weren’t together. And there was absolutely no chance that she would ever return to Peppin.
* * *
“There is absolutely no chance I’m getting off this train in Peppin.” Leaning back in the chair of the small desk provided in their private Pullman car, Adelaide Harper crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
Her stepfather, Everett Holden, allowed only a hint of a humor to show in his eyes. “This is the last station that will allow us to transfer onto a train to Houston, so you’ll forgive me if I get off here. Be so good as to send your mother and me a telegram when you get to Louisiana so that we know you’ve gotten that far safely. I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.”
Adelaide watched as he grabbed his suitcase, reporter’s notebook and Kodak camera, then exited the private train car. With a satisfied nod, she turned her attention back to the manuscript spread out on the sloped writing surface of her portable desk box. If he thought he’d scare her into joining him with the prospect of an extended trip on a train, he had another thing coming. She’d like nothing better than to continue on alone. She did her best writing while traveling, which was why she always begged to go along with him on his rare but necessary business trips. They always used separate private cars which meant she could close the door and block out everything while the clack of the train wheels lulled her into the imaginary worlds she created on paper.
She also treasured the short breaks these trips gave her from her mother’s constant attempts at matchmaking. Adelaide was almost certain that with a little more hard work she could become an independent woman who wouldn’t have to settle for romance or marriage. Rose might realize that, if she ever acknowledged that Adelaide was a published and increasingly successful author.
They’d become a part of Houston’s high society through her mother’s marriage to Everett. His family name was one of the most respected in the city. Her mother expected Adelaide to be a proper society lady, and society ladies didn’t stay spinsters or write dime novels. They got married, had children and dedicated their time to charity or musical accomplishments.
Adelaide had never fit into that world. She’d never truly fit anywhere, despite or perhaps because of the fact that she’d lived in so many places growing up. That’s why she enjoyed writing. It gave her the chance to create a place that belonged to her even if she couldn’t truly live there.
A knock sounded on the half-open door. Expecting to see her stepfather, she was surprised to find it was the porter, instead. “Miss, the gentleman said you needed help with a suitcase.”
With a resigned sigh, she tucked her pencil and papers into a compartment of the portable desk before folding it into its box form. She did her best to ignore the mix of panic and dread filling her stomach as she nodded toward the suitcase. “Yes, please. It’s on the bed.”
She put on her hat, bending the brim to a daring angle that dipped low over her face. She had no illusions that it would keep her identity a secret for long in this town. Folks here were too observant and too friendly not to notice one of their own had returned. She wouldn’t mind seeing some of the friends she had kept in touch with over the years. She just didn’t relish the idea of word getting back to Chris that she was in town. Not that he’d care or want to see her. After all, she was the one who’d ended their engagement. She’d done it for a good reason, too—one far more important than she’d cited in her final letter.
Five years had passed since then. She was quite certain her heart was in no danger from him. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop it from racing as she followed the porter down the corridor to the railcar’s exit. Nor did it keep her hand from trembling slightly as the conductor took it to guide her across the gap between the tracks and the platform. Her gaze cautiously swept the busy depot as she went to stand beside her stepfather. “Pa, when is the next train out of here?”
“Ah, Adelaide, what a surprise! It’s so nice of you to join me.” Concern wrinkled his forehead slightly when she didn’t so much as offer a smile. “One hour and fifteen minutes. That gives us just enough time to grab some dinner and check out the lead I have on the story I’m investigating.”
“We are not eating dinner here.” Her stomach growled in disagreement. Perhaps Everett could fetch some food and she’d eat it at the station—behind a stack of luggage where no one would find her. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed upon her stepfather. “Wait a minute. What lead? I thought we were only here because we needed to transfer trains.”
“This is the only place for us to transfer, but one of the charities I’m investigating also happens to be based here.”
“In Peppin? Really? You think someone here set up a fake charity to steal people’s money?”
“No, I think someone in Houston is doing the stealing. I haven’t discovered who that might be despite the threatening letters I’ve received.”
Concern filled her. “Threatening letters?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing serious or out of the ordinary for an investigative journalist, I assure you. It only makes me more eager to break the story. I’ve a hunch whoever it is set up a fake charity in one of these out-of-the-way towns we’ve been visiting. The three we’ve been to so far have all seemed legitimate. I wasn’t planning to visit a fourth on this trip, but we may as well check it out since we have to stop here anyway.” He flipped through a few pages in his notebook. “Any chance you’re familiar with this address?”
She leaned closer and was relieved to see that it was on Main Street but in the opposite direction from Johansen’s Mercantile. “That has to be in the newer section of town. They were just starting to build in that area when Mother and I moved away. If you’d given me the address, I could have had one of my friends look into it for you.”
He shook his head. “A good reporter finds out the facts for himself. Besides, if something is amiss I’ll need some sort of proof. Think you can lead the way?”
“I’m sure I could.” They checked their luggage with the stationmaster before heading off to investigate. Adelaide kept her head down as much as possible, but the glimpses she caught of the town proved it had gone through a surprising number of changes within the five years she’d been gone. There were so many more businesses, and everyone looked more fashionable and up-to-date than she recalled.
It only took a few minutes for them to find the building. It looked like any other business, except that it boasted no sign to indicate what type of business might be conducted inside, and all of its cobalt-blue shutters were closed tight. Knocking on the door yielded no answer.
Her stepfather set up his camera and took a few pictures as proof of the building’s existence. “I think I’ll talk to a few townsfolk while we’re here to find out if they know anything about this place. The stationmaster told me there’s a popular café on the other end of Main Street. Let’s head over there and see what we can discover.”
Adelaide bit her lip as alarm lifted her brows. Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t find it within herself to protest as she followed Everett’s purposeful step in the exact direction she’d wanted to avoid. They’d nearly reached the café when she heard a delighted gasp. “Adelaide Harper, as I live and breathe! That is you. I knew it.”
Adelaide turned just in time to receive a hug from her former classmate. “Ellie O’Brien. No, it’s Ellie Williams now. Isn’t it?”
“It most certainly is.” The blonde grinned and then transferred her smile to the man who came to stand beside her. “You remember my husband, Lawson, don’t you?”
“Of course.” She offered her hand to Lawson who had graduated a couple of years before her.
He gave it a friendly squeeze. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
Adelaide responded in kind before introducing her stepfather to the couple. They soon realized that they’d all been heading to Maddie’s Café and decided to share a table. As they ate, Ellie asked, “So, Adelaide, what brings you back to Peppin after all these years?”
Adelaide refused to follow the speculative glance Ellie sent out the nearby window, since she knew it would land directly across the street...on Johansen’s Mercantile. Feeling a hint of warmth spread across her cheeks, Adelaide allowed her stepfather to explain the nature of their visit. He didn’t go into detail, but what he said was enough to put a frown of pure confusion on Lawson’s face. “There is no orphanage in Peppin. I ought to know. If there had been, I would have been put there when I first arrived in town ten years ago.”
Ellie shook her head. “Lawson Clive Williams, you know that isn’t true. My sister and brother-in-law never would have allowed it. Neither would the Williamses.”
“You’re right, honey. I just meant that I would know if there had been an orphanage in town.”
Adelaide shrugged. “Well, the building is one of the newer ones. Perhaps it’s in the process of being set up.”
Both Ellie and Lawson seemed doubtful.
Everett hummed thoughtfully. “In that case, I’d like to find out just how long it’s taking them to get started. Where’s the local land office?”
“If you don’t mind me tagging along,” Lawson offered, “I’ll take you there myself.”
Ellie waved the men on saying, “We’ll meet y’all at the mercantile.”
As the men left, Adelaide’s gaze snapped to Ellie’s sparkling green eyes. “Ellie, I couldn’t. Things didn’t end well between Chris and me. He wouldn’t want to see me.”
Ellie tilted her head as her gaze slid between Adelaide and the mercantile several times. Finally the woman shrugged. “It seems to me, the question isn’t would he want to see you, but...” Ellie placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward before lowering her voice. “Do you want to see him?”
Adelaide wavered. “Well, maybe...just a glimpse. A glimpse—simply out of curiosity...”
It only took a few moments for them to formulate their plan. Ellie would go into the mercantile and lure Chris over to the display window. Adelaide would catch a glimpse of him as she oh-so-casually and undetectably walked past. Afterwards, she’d just keep on walking right to the train station where Ellie would tell Everett to find her.
There was hardly any risk involved. There was nothing to be nervous about. There was no reason to examine why seeing Chris had become so important to her.
Adelaide waited until she saw a flicker of movement in the display window. Heart pounding in her chest, she strolled toward it. She stole a quick glance, only to accidentally catch the unmistakably kind gaze of Olan Johansen. Chris’s father froze. Recognition flared in his eyes. He leaned forward and knocked on the glass as if he didn’t already have her attention.
She realized she’d stopped in her tracks. Panicking, she started to turn one way then the other before realizing it would be incredibly rude not to acknowledge the man. She did so with a smile and a minuscule wave. He grinned, then beckoned her inside.
Her eyes widened. She shook her head. Still smiling, she began to back away muttering, “Oh, no. Oh, no. No. No. No. I am not going in there.”
The man left the window an instant before he stepped onto the sidewalk. He was saying something, but all she could do was stare at the mercantile door, which somehow got ever closer. She was speaking now, responding automatically to whatever he’d said. “Yes, it’s wonderful to see you, too. I’m surprised myself. I wasn’t planning to be here. Oh, doesn’t the store look wonderful? You’ve rearranged things, haven’t you?”
“Chris!” She winced as Mr. Johansen’s bellow echoed through the large store. “Chris, come here. Chris!”
Adelaide backed up a step as everyone but Chris gathered around to see what the commotion was about. Finally, Chris eased through the crowd with Ellie at his heels. He was just as tall as she remembered, but he’d filled out in muscle—a man now, instead of the boy she remembered. He moved with a sense of purpose and confidence that a less sensible woman might find downright intoxicating. His hair had grown out a little but it still reminded her of spun gold. His fingers raked it away from the worry that wrinkled his brow as his blue gaze landed on his father with a mixture of confusion and concern. “What is it, Pa? Are you all right? What’s happened?”
“I’m better than all right. Look who’s finally here.” Olan caught her hand and lifted it, pulling her a step forward. Adelaide barely held back a groan. All she’d wanted was a glimpse of Chris. Instead, she was getting a whole lot of trouble.
Chapter Two (#ulink_88a5453d-a80a-5fe7-85d2-9318204906ee)
Chris’s gaze continued to search his father’s for any indication that he was in pain or short of breath. Olan hated the worry his heart condition added to the family. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried to downplay one his heart episodes with a distraction. Olan was flushed, but it only seemed to be with excitement, so Chris reluctantly allowed his attention to be drawn elsewhere.
It landed on the woman standing just in front of his father. A hat dipped low over her right eye. Yet it did little to hide the perfection of her slightly turned-up nose, the rosy blush racing across her high cheekbones or the sweet curves of her bow-shaped lips. She was beautiful. She was familiar. She was achingly familiar.
He caught her chin, tilted her face upward and got lost in her light green eyes. “Adelaide.”
A fleeting smile touched her lips. “Hello, Chris.”
Silence filled the air. He released her. His words came out as more of a growl than a greeting. “What are you doing here?”
Olan slapped Chris’s back just hard enough to knock some sense into him. “Son, is that any way to greet your fiancée?”
Time slowed. Chris saw Adelaide turn toward his father. He knew exactly what was going to happen. The truth was going to come out. He could almost see the disbelief, the shock, the disappointment on his father’s face. His imagination went even further until he saw Olan’s face whiten, his hand covering his heart as he sank to his knees in pain. Chris couldn’t let that happen. Instinctively, Chris reached for Adelaide. He caught her by the arms, tugged her toward his chest, then stifled whatever she’d been planning to say with a quick, ardent kiss.
All it took was one slow blink of her long lashes for the dazed look in her eyes to change to pure fire. She opened her mouth to say something rude and incriminating so he kissed her again—gently this time. For a second he feared she’d pull away. Instead, she responded hesitantly by lifting her chin. Her fingers tentatively touched the nape of his neck, then slid into his hair. Suddenly, he was the one who was distracted. It wasn’t just by her kiss, either. It was the wisp of a dream that came with it, the vision of what could have been if she hadn’t rejected him.
But she had—soundly and irrevocably with little explanation and no warning. He’d do well to remember that.
His father clamped a hand on Chris’s shoulder, no doubt to remind him that they had a store filled with gaping customers. “Why don’t you two take a walk and sort some things out?”
By “some things” Chris was certain Olan meant a wedding date. In response, Chris gave a quick wave and a nod on the way to the front door. He didn’t have time to do anything else because Adelaide wasn’t going to stay quiet for long. He barely managed to tug her outside, then into the nearby alley beside the mercantile, before she whirled and punched him in the shoulder. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
He winced more at her yelling than the blow. Realizing they needed a bit more distance from the street for privacy’s sake, he grabbed her hand and dragged her around to the back of the building. Placing his hands on the wall beside her waist, he caged her in and waited for the lambasting to stop. She’d lost her hat and a few tendrils of her auburn hair had tumbled loose to gleam in the sunlight. She distracted him from the temptation to smooth them back into place by pushing at his chest. It didn’t move him an inch. Her eyes flashed in frustration. “What were you thinking?”
Realizing she’d finally taken a breath, he tilted his head and lifted a brow. “You know, all of this indignation would be a lot more convincing if you hadn’t kissed me back.”
She froze. A blush suffused her cheeks. Her eyes met his, then narrowed. Her gaze drifted to his mouth. From the look on her face, he wasn’t sure if she was going to kiss him again or slap him. He figured a distraction was in order. “Adelaide, what are you doing here?”
To his relief, she calmed down enough to lean against the building though she continued to glare. “My stepfather had business in town.”
“How long are you staying?” He forced the words out, not wanting to acknowledge that a small part of him had hoped she’d come back intending to fulfill her promise to marry him. Not that he would have agreed to anything that ludicrous. Trusting her with his heart would be akin to trusting Billy the Kid to look after the Johansen’s cash drawer.
“We’re leaving on the next train.” Her gaze turned searching yet guarded. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I couldn’t let you tell my pa that you weren’t my fiancée anymore. He still thinks... Well, my whole family, except for Sophia, still believes that you and I are planning to get married eventually. I never told them we—you broke off our engagement.”
“Then this is the perfect opportunity to do so.” She tried to dislodge his hand from the wall but he refused to move, allowing the desperation he felt to show in his eyes. She gave a reluctant sigh. “All right, Chris. What is going on? Why don’t they know?”
“It all started out innocently enough. On my eighteenth birthday, which was only a few months after you left, my parents sat me down ‘to talk about my future.’ They told me that when the time came for me to take a wife they wanted me to marry a girl from Norway.”
“What girl from Norway?”
He shrugged. “Any girl, really. Of course, at the time, that didn’t matter because I was engaged to you. I told them as much and showed them your letters. They were pretty shocked to hear I’d kept that from them, but they respected my commitment to you. They also agreed not to announce anything about it until your mother approved. But as much as they liked you, they never gave up the hope I’d change my mind and let them send for a mail-order bride.”
“So even after I ended our engagement, you just let them keep on thinking you were engaged to me because that meant you had a safeguard of sorts against their meddling.”
“Exactly.” He grimaced. “I guess that was a pretty self-serving thing to do.”
She bit her lip. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it sounds like the kind of thing I would do.”
He laughed. “Really?”
“Honestly. The stories I could tell you about my mother and her matchmaking attempts...” She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I’d rather not think about them. My point is, I understand why you did what you did. I just don’t see how you got away with it for this long. It’s been four years.”
“It helped when I moved out of the house. That kept them from knowing your letters had stopped coming. They knew the fact that I didn’t have your mother’s approval was a sore point for me, so they didn’t bring the engagement up often. If they did, I changed the subject.”
“What about other girls? I know we never announced that we were engaged, but your parents and siblings knew. Didn’t they notice you courting women who weren’t me?”
Chris rubbed his jaw, wondering at the edge in her voice that made him feel lower than pond scum, as if he’d been unfaithful to her. She’d been the one who’d broken their engagement. Not him. If she hadn’t wanted to him to court other women, she shouldn’t have given up her claim on him. Still, it was a good question that begged an answer. “My parents didn’t know I courted anyone else. It wasn’t too hard for me to hide. After all, I’ve always had a lot of friends who were girls. We all spent time together in groups, so any courting I wanted to do was done then. Sophia would cover for me if things got sticky. It also helped that I’m one of five children. My parents can’t always keep track of us that well. Besides, it’s only been in the last year that my father really started to pressure me to settle down.”
“Why the last year?”
“That’s when...that’s when his heart started acting up. Or, at least that’s when he couldn’t hide it anymore. That’s part of the reason he’s so anxious for me to get married. He wants to see at least one of his grandchildren before he—”
“Oh, Chris.” Concern filled her voice as she placed a hand on his arm. “Isn’t there something that can be done?”
He swallowed hard. “Doc Williams wants Pa to see a specialist for some more tests. Pa says there hasn’t been time to go. I don’t think that time is the problem. I think he’s...”
“Afraid,” she offered softly.
Chris nodded. “He knows he may not have much time left, but I guess he doesn’t want to know how bad it really is.”
“But what if there’s something a specialist could do to help?”
“I hope there is. That’s why I want him to see one. Until then, we may not know what—if anything—could make him better, but we know that stress can make it worse.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “This whole debacle with my supposed engagement has spiraled out of control. It’s bound to upset him if I tell him I’ve deceived him all this time.”
“I know, but he needs to know the truth.”
Chris knew she was right. He couldn’t keep this going. Especially not now with Adelaide’s return. There was only one thing left to do. “I’ll go back to the store. I’ll take my pa aside and explain everything as gently as possible, like I should have done long ago.”
“Wait.” She caught his arm to keep him from turning away. “You don’t have to go in there alone.”
Chris recognized her offer for what it was—an olive branch bridging past the disaster of their engagement back to the friendship they’d once shared. He’d missed their friendship. He’d missed her. Unfortunately, going back to the way things had been before was impossible. Even now, the hurts from the past that should have been healed flared with old pain.
He took her hand, removed it from his arm and gave it a small squeeze before letting it go. “Actually, Adelaide, I’d prefer it.”
* * *
Stunned by Chris’s gentle but unmistakable dismissal, Adelaide stared at him as he turned on his heel and walked away.
She charted his progress down the alley as he neared the front of the store. His steps were determined but slow. His head was down. She recognized that posture. It meant he was thinking hard about something—no doubt trying to summon the words he’d need to break the news to his father.
Or some other way to twist the truth? Surely he wouldn’t. Perhaps she ought to make sure.
She pushed away from the wall, grabbed her hat from where it had fallen in the dust and followed him inside the mercantile. She found that the number of customers hadn’t dwindled in the least, which meant that folks were sticking around to see what would happen next. They might as well have gone home. All of the excitement was over. There was nothing more to see here.
She caught sight of Everett leaning against the store’s gleaming oak counter with his arms crossed in front of him. He lifted one brow, then pinned her with his brown gaze. She swallowed and found herself easing closer to Chris’s side. “Oh! Hello, Pa.”
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“Um, I—” Her panicked gaze refused to meet his. Instead, it flitted to where a wide-eyed Ellie stood by a shelf of books. Lawson stood beside her looking decidedly confused. Finally, she saw Mr. Johansen watching from his spot in front of the register. A smile tipped his lips, and he offered her an encouraging nod. Chris’s words concerning his father’s health filled her mind. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a strain around Olan’s eyes and tiredness to his bearing that hadn’t been there five years ago.
She hated the mere possibility of anything bad happening to him. He was such a kind soul. Even when she and her mother had missed a payment or two toward their store credit, he’d always welcomed them into the mercantile and his home. He was a fixture in the Peppin community. He served on the school board, was a deacon at church and was always the first to support a charitable cause. He didn’t deserve the embarrassment that would come his way if she answered her stepfather’s question, in front of all these people, with complete honesty.
That being the case, she said the one thing that would make her sound guilty without being an outright lie. “I can explain.”
“Well, you’d better. And, while you’re at it, I’d like to know why this is the first I’ve heard of your engagement.”
Chris turned to level her with his gaze. Surprise and bewilderment flashed across his face. To an outsider, his reaction might have seemed to be prompted by the news that she hadn’t mentioned their engagement to her stepfather. However, she knew it was because she hadn’t immediately spilled the truth. His jaw flexed. Indecision warred in his eyes before he gave in with a minuscule nod.
She swallowed, unable to drag her gaze from his even as she addressed Everett. She didn’t want to lie—but there were some evasions she could make while still being honest. “Mother didn’t want me to mention it.”
Chris glanced away, freeing her to meet her stepfather’s eyes. Everett frowned. “Your mother knew?”
“Well...let’s just say she preferred to ignore it.” That was also true.
“That does sounds like her.” He ran a hand over his beard, weighing her words and searching her eyes. He gave up trying to figure her out with a little shake of his head. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your fiancé?”
“Of course. Pa, this is Chris Johansen. Chris, this is my stepfather, Everett Holden.” She smiled as she watched the two them exchange a handshake. Everything would be all right. Rather than air all of the Johansen’s family business before their customers, she’d given Chris a reprieve. He could tell his father the truth in private later. If he didn’t... Well, as much as she hoped he would, that wasn’t her concern. She was leaving on the next train out of Peppin.
Olan stepped around the counter. “You must come and have supper with my family this evening.”
Everett nodded. “Yes, I think we’d better.”
Panic filled her. “Oh, but our train—”
“It’s all right. We’ll stay at the hotel tonight and catch the train that leaves in the morning.”
She bit her lip to keep from protesting again as Chris offered to see them to the hotel. Mr. Johansen waved his customers toward the register and it went back to business as usual inside the mercantile. Adelaide said goodbye to Ellie and Lawson before hurrying toward the door where Chris and Everett waited. They were already deep in conversation as her journalist of a stepfather plied Chris with question after question. By the time they made it to the hotel, Everett had learned Chris’s entire life story, from his humble beginning in Norway to his future plan of running the mercantile for his family.
While Everett spoke to a hotel clerk about renting rooms for the night, Chris caught her hand and tugged her into a quiet corner of the lobby. “I know you’re just trying to help. At least, I assume that was the motivation behind this. I would just like to point out that you’re making things more complicated.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible. Look, I thought this through. Where’s the harm in keeping up the act for one more night? I’ll play along until it’s time to leave, then we’ll pretend to fight and you’ll say we ended the engagement.”
He shook his head while exasperation filled his voice. “Adelaide, we both know that your plans never work out. They always do the opposite of what you intended for them to do.”
“Pardon me. It’s been five years. You don’t know the first thing about me or what I’ve accomplished anymore, so I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself.” At his disbelieving look, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Maybe you’re a little bit right, but you have to admit my idea is much better than letting your father be humiliated in front of all of his customers. This plan will work.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, it doesn’t really matter because there’s no going back now, is there?”
“Nope.”
He sighed. “I’m going to go let my mother know we’ll be having company for supper. I’ll meet you and your stepfather here at six and we’ll walk over to my parents’ house together. All right?”
She nodded. He offered her a rather poor excuse for a smile before he hurried away. She rejoined her stepfather just as he handed a bellboy the check for the luggage they’d left at the station. After they were shown to their suite, Everett caught her arm and directed her to the settee in the parlor that connected their rooms. He sat beside her and looked her in the eye. “Explain to me again how you’re engaged to that man.”
Just like that, the truth came tumbling out. Everett listened without asking a single question until she finished. He stroked his graying beard. “That’s quite a story.”
“I shouldn’t have misled Mr. Johansen.”
“Maybe not. I understand why you did, though. Really, this is a matter that needs to be discussed between Olan and Chris—privately. There was no need to air their family business in front of all those customers. It would have caused unnecessary embarrassment.”
She nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
He patted her hand. “You got caught in the middle of a messy situation and did the best you could.”
“I did.” She bit her lip. “What if Chris is right? What if I make everything worse?”
“Well, we can’t back out on the dinner. That would be rude.”
Her sigh turned into a groan. “I never should have walked past that store in the first place. I knew better. I just...”
“You wanted to see him, huh?”
“Yes. Don’t ask me why.” Twisting her lips to the side, she stared at her ink-stained fingers. Chris had looked good—too good...the kind of good that could only mean trouble for the woman who loved him. Those classic features of his were so handsome they ought to be carved in marble and placed in a museum. Not that she’d been swayed by them. Or by the way the sun set his wheat-gold hair glimmering. She’d just observed, that’s all. That was different. She lifted her gaze back to Everett. “Why can’t all men be like you? Honorable and kind and—”
“Plain?” He chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked. I consider myself blessed to be not-quite handsome. It took me a year to convince your ma to marry me with this face. I can’t imagine how long it would have taken if I looked as good as your young man. I know how you and your mother think. Y’all are outright snobs when it comes to the handsome men in this world. That’s unfair of you, but I know there’s a reason for it so I won’t push you. I will say this. Chris Johansen might be worth a second chance if he’s half the man his father seems to think he is. Of course, if Olan doesn’t know the truth about the engagement, it makes me wonder what else he might not know about his son.”
“Plenty, I’m sure.”
As for giving Chris a second chance at breaking her heart...she wasn’t that crazy.
Chapter Three (#ulink_a55ff19e-d994-55d4-bd88-25377a1f37ec)
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Chris stared at the front door of his parents’ house, unwilling to pull the doorbell and begin this evening’s charade. It was one thing to pretend the woman he’d asked to marry him had never ended their engagement. It was another thing entirely to parade a lie before his parents’ faces. He wanted to turn around, go back to his apartment above the mercantile and forget any of this had ever happened.
“Steady.” The low whisper from Adelaide’s stepfather meant the man understood Chris’s struggle. Adelaide must have told him the truth. Now the only people in the dark were Chris’s parents and younger brothers. He rolled his shoulders as though that might free him from the ever-growing burden of guilt resting there. It didn’t.
He pulled in a deep breath, then rang the doorbell. A few moments later, Chris’s mother opened the door and immediately enveloped Adelaide into a hug. “You’ve finally come, and you’re staying for supper. What a wonderful surprise! You’re so grown-up and even more lovely than before. Wouldn’t you agree, Chris?”
His gaze skimmed from the fancy chignon of her auburn hair to her lacy cream blouse and dark blue skirt before he managed to catch himself. “She’s always been beautiful.”
Adelaide’s lashes lowered demurely as a hint of a blush appeared on her cheek. “Thank you, both. It’s lovely to see you, too. Marta Johansen, I’d like you to meet my stepfather, Everett Holden.”
After their parents exchanged pleasantries, Chris glanced down the main hall in search of his siblings. Usually the boys came rushing to greet him as soon as he stepped inside the door. “Where is everyone, Ma?”
“They’re waiting in the parlor.”
He headed toward the double doors across the hall. “Why are the doors closed?”
“Just a moment.” His mother rushed around him to stand in front of the doors. “Adelaide, would you come and stand beside Chris? Thank you. Now, Mr. Holden, I’ll need help with the other door. Slide it to the left on the count of three.”
Chris frowned. “Ma—”
“One.”
“What is—”
“Two.”
“—going on?”
“Three!”
The doors slid away. The rich, unmistakable strains of “The Wedding March” crashed over them. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. The parlor had been decked out with all manner of decorations. The largest and most prominent was the banner above the fireplace that read “Congratulations!” in Hans’s big, slightly uneven letters. The little boy’s grin was so big that he kept missing the notes on his flute. Next to him, Viktor played his cello while offering them a much shyer smile. August winked at Chris as he dramatically swayed in time with the mellow tones of his viola. Sophia caught his eye as she ran her fingers across the string of her harp while mouthing two words. “I’m sorry.”
As usual, his father served as conductor for the quartet and soon brought the music to an end. Everyone looked at Chris with such pride and expectation. He had no idea how to respond. Adelaide saved him from having to figure it out by clapping for the ensemble. “That was absolutely beautiful! What a wonderful welcome. I can’t believe how much all of y’all have grown.”
His brothers rushed forward to greet her. Viktor and August remembered her well. Hans was eager to meet her again. Sophia’s greeting was a bit less enthusiastic. She alone knew just how much Chris had been hurt by Adelaide’s rejection. As their brothers continued to monopolize Adelaide’s attention, Sophia sidled over to Chris. She gave him a congratulatory hug that was really just an excuse for her to whisper, “I’ve been praying for you since I heard. I would have come over to see you, but Ma kept me busy preparing all of this.”
“It’s all right. I—” The doorbell interrupted him. Marta rushed to answer it. Chris turned to his father for explanation. “Is someone else joining us for dinner?”
“Yes, indeed.”
The satisfaction in Olan’s tone put Chris on alert. “Pa, you know I don’t like surprises.”
His father simply clasped him on the shoulder without saying a word. Chris stiffened as their guest walked in. Pastor Brightly took one look at the parlor and grinned. Tucking the book he carried beneath his arm, the man rubbed his palms together. “All right, then. Who’s ready for a wedding?”
His brothers cheered. Chris shook his head to clear it. Surely—surely this was a nightmare he would awaken from at any second. Adelaide’s gaze connected with his from across the room and the panic in her eyes was undeniably real. They’d been ambushed. There was no way out but the truth.
Adelaide didn’t quite seem to understand that. She sounded genuinely troubled as she said, “Oh, but I couldn’t possibly get married without my mother present.”
“I agree,” Mr. Holden said, looking decidedly unamused by the turn of events.
Sophia took Hans’s hand and shooed the other boys toward the kitchen. “Let’s all go check on the cake, boys. Perhaps it’s cool enough to frost.”
Once Chris’s siblings left, Pastor Brightly searched the faces of everyone left in the room. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, there is a problem.” Finally finding his voice, Chris crossed the room to stand beside Adelaide, then addressed his parents. “Y’all cannot possibly expect us to agree to a wedding with absolutely no warning.”
Olan gave a tired sigh. “One would think that a five-year engagement is warning enough.”
Marta went to place a comforting hand on her husband’s back. “Adelaide and Mr. Holden, I understand your objections to having the wedding without Rose present, but you can always have another ceremony later. You also must remember that Rose has not approved of Chris for the past five years. I see little reason to hope that she will change her mind about my son unless she has the opportunity to get to know him as her son-in-law.”
“I agree with my wife. I would also like to point out that if a young lady truly loved my son no one would be able to persuade her not to marry him.”
If Chris hadn’t already been watching Adelaide, he would have missed the hurt that flared in her eyes before her lashes lowered to cover them. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her high emotions. “And you, Pa? What do you have to say about all of this?”
“Adelaide, you are old enough to know your own mind. It’s your decision to make—yours and Chris’s.”
That was not the response that Chris had expected from the man. Yet, Chris realized, it was the only one he could have given that would truly allow Adelaide the freedom to choose. If Everett had outright forbidden Adelaide to marry Chris and she’d capitulated, she would have appeared weak. This, at least, would allow her some strength and dignity in her inevitable refusal.
Chris also realized that she would leave as soon as she articulated that refusal. He’d have no reason to see her again. She’d been ripped from him before without a goodbye. For some reason, he couldn’t let that happen again. He touched her arm. “Come on, Adelaide. Let’s talk about this outside.”
A fierce March wind met them at the door. Not wanting to take a chance at being overheard, he kept walking until he reached the gate, then turned to face her. “I’m so sorry, Adelaide. If I’d had any idea that my parents would spring this on us, I would have done everything I could to prevent it.”
The wind teased at her hair and skirt as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I know.”
“You don’t have to go back in there. I’ll break the news myself.”
She nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Please tell your siblings I said goodbye. It was nice to see them again.”
She couldn’t seem to look at him. He wasn’t sure how or why, but what his father had said must have struck a nerve with her. Chris didn’t know how he felt. Anger had deserted him—at least for the moment. The only emotion he was left with was one he couldn’t seem to name. Whatever it was, it begged him to pull her into his arms. He shook the errant thought from his head. “Goodbye, Adelaide. Thank you for trying to help me.”
“Goodbye, Chris.”
He left her at the gate, announced to his family that there would be no wedding, now or ever, and said goodbye to Everett. Pastor Brightly left soon after. Chris removed himself to one of the chairs on the porch, feeling tired and bruised.
The sound of the front door opening interrupted his swirling, unmanageable thoughts. He glanced up as his father took the chair beside him. Jaw clenching, Chris shook his head. “You hurt her feelings.”
“I did?” His father frowned and cast a concerned glance down the street in the direction Adelaide and Everett had walked. “That wasn’t my intention. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d let it go this far.”
A beat of silence passed. Chris looked at his father. Olan’s mouth slowly curved upward on one side. Chris straightened in his chair. “You knew.”
Olan lifted an eyebrow and gave a single nod.
Chris’s mouth fell open. “How long have you known?”
“Chris, you are my son. Do you really think I didn’t see your hurt and anger the past few years? There’s also the matter of you flirting with your sister’s friends. The man I raised would never do that while betrothed to someone else.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“At first, I wanted to give you time to heal. Then I wanted you to come to me. Finally I just got sick of it and made you as uncomfortable as I possibly could to see when you’d finally break down and tell me.”
Chris hiked his thumb toward the house. “The wedding. That’s what that was about. You actually set me up with a fake wedding, and you say I’m the one who took it too far?”
“It wouldn’t have been a fake if you’d gone through with it.”
“You knew we wouldn’t.”
“Actually, I wasn’t sure. Adelaide’s always had a hold on you. She still does.” Olan waved off Chris’s protests. “I saw the way you kissed her.”
“That was just to keep her quiet.”
“Was it? Because, I’m pretty sure that by the time I slapped you on the back you’d forgotten not only where you were but why you were kissing her in the first place.”
Heat crawled up Chris’s neck. He stood and walked over to the porch rail. “Pa, what are you getting at? Are you trying to make me admit that I care for her? Why? What does it matter now?”
“We men don’t like to talk much about our feelings. I understand that. However, the way I look at it, feelings are a lot like seeds. You can bury them all you want. They’ll just keep growing. The only way to conquer them is to dig them up, bring them to the light and deal with them with God’s help. You’ve kept quiet about what you think and feel for Adelaide for so long. That isn’t a healthy way to live. I want you to talk to me. For the first time in five years, be honest with me and tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I feel...angry. Not just at her, but at myself.” He turned to face his father and forced himself to speak the truth. “I could have fought for her. I thought about it so many times. How hard would it have been to get on a train to Houston and have an honest conversation with her? But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not after how she threw me away—threw away the future I wanted us to have together. I thought we were in love. I must have been wrong, if she was able to turn away from it so easily. Since then, I’ve just been numb. I tried to find a girl who would be content with that. No one ever was. But maybe now that it’s truly over, I can finally put it all to rest.”
His father was quiet for a long moment. Right when Chris was beginning to feel uncomfortable for revealing all of that, Olan spoke. “What’s stopping you from fighting for her now?”
Chris gave a short laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. Sanity, probably.”
“Hey.” Olan leaned forward, brow furrowed. “I’m serious. You might say you’re ready to put it to rest, but I can see you still have strong feelings for her. You need those settled before you can move on. If you can move on. Maybe all of this is God’s way of showing you that you gave up too soon.”
“Why would you, of all people, want me to go after her?”
“Does it matter?”
“It really does.”
“I’d hate to see you start your marriage to another girl with this hanging over your head.”
Suddenly realizing he no longer had a buffer to protect him from his father’s attempts at an arranged marriage, Chris tensed. “Is this about Bridget Saltzberg?”
Exasperation painted Olan’s features. “The girl’s name is Britta Solberg. And, no. This is about you and the fact that being in love with someone else is a horrible way to start a marriage.”
“Listen, I never said I was still in love with Adelaide. I’m not. If that’s the only reason you think I should fight for her, then it’s not good enough.”
“I think it is. Marriage is challenging enough without that type of strain. Now, I have an idea and I think you’re going to like it.” At Chris’s doubtful look, Olan shrugged. “Well, you’ll like at least half of it. I’ll agree to see a heart specialist in Houston if you’ll agree to figure out your true feelings for Adelaide while we’re there.”
Chris stared at his father. “That, sir, is blackmail.”
“Let’s just call it...motivation.”
“Unbelievable.” Chris sank into the chair across from his father and shook his head in amazement. “You know there is no way I can turn that down. I can’t even try to stall you because the sooner you see a doctor, the better. I almost can’t even be upset at you for doing it because it’s such a brilliant move.”
Olan patted him on the knee, then stood. “I’ve got to take care of a few things before we leave, but there should be a train coming through about noon tomorrow. Be ready to get on it. And come inside. Your ma has a plate for you.”
He’d been outmaneuvered, outthought, outplanned and there was nothing he could do about it. Not that he felt particularly interested in digging through his feelings for Adelaide. What did his feelings matter when she’d made her own stance perfectly clear? Still, for honor’s sake, he ought to at least be in the woman’s general vicinity once or twice if possible. He’d just have to keep his guard up, because there was no way he was going to get his heart tangled up with that woman again.
* * *
If a young lady truly loved my son, no one would be able to persuade her not to marry him.
Mr. Johansen’s words reverberated in her head all the way back to Houston. They hurt, not because they had been cruelly meant, but because they were true. They meant her mother must have been right all along. Adelaide hadn’t loved Chris. What they’d felt had been nothing more than a childish fleeting fancy.
It had been odd, though, to stand in the Johansen’s parlor and catch a glimpse of what her life might have been. If she’d loved Chris, perhaps she would have flouted her mother’s wishes. She might have run back to Peppin when she was eighteen to marry him in a ceremony very much like the ones his parents had planned yesterday. She might have lost her mother’s approval but she would have gained his family’s love and support. She’d be much closer to her old friends in Peppin—people who were warm, friendly, and accepting, unlike the society mavens Rose was trying so hard to impress.
It sounded rather idyllic until she remembered that Chris hadn’t loved her, either. He never would have sought out the company of another woman if he had. Adelaide needed to remember that she hadn’t ended their engagement only because she’d doubted the depth of her feelings, but also because she’d feared the life she could see folding out before her the moment she’d read Amy’s letter. It was a life very much like Rose’s had been up to that point—married young to a handsome salesman with a wandering heart. Adelaide could never abide that.
She’d locked away her thoughts of a future in Peppin with Chris and focused on finding some means of supporting herself so that she’d never have to rely on a husband. Thankfully, with Everett’s help, she’d honed her talent for writing. His family’s connections in the publishing world had helped secure her first book deal. She’d managed the rest by herself and was well on her way to fulfilling her new dream. That’s what she needed to focus on, not her trip to the past.
She tightened her grasp on her carrying case as she stepped from the train onto the covered platform. Everett paused beside her and she followed his gaze to the looming three-story brick building that was Houston’s Grand Central Station. He smiled. “As much as I enjoy chasing down a good story, there’s nothing quite like coming home again. Why don’t you go find your mother in the waiting room while I gather our luggage? We’ll meet at the station entrance. That will save us some time, and we’ll be home before we know it.”
She worried her bottom lip. “And I’ll have a few moments alone with Mother to tell her what happened on our trip.”
“Exactly.” He patted her arm and set off in the direction of the baggage claim.
Adelaide sighed, then gathered her courage and slipped through the bustling crowd. In the waiting room, Rose gave her a perfunctory hug, then asked, “Where’s your stepfather?”
“He’s going to meet us at the entrance with the luggage.”
Rose scanned the crowd as they walked. “Well, I’ll have a thing or two to say to him about taking you to Peppin.”
“He didn’t know. I mean, we never told him much about our history there. I...didn’t visit father’s grave.”
“Why would you?” Rose pressed her lips together, then turned to look at Adelaide. “Did you see any of your old friends?”
“I saw Chris,” Adelaide said, because that was really what her mother was asking. “He still works in his father’s store.”
“I don’t suppose he’s married.”
“No.”
“His kind hardly ever does marry, which is a mercy, really.”
Adelaide pulled in a trembling breath. For a moment it was all she could do not to turn on her heel and board a train bound for anywhere out of here. She shook the notion from her head. What was wrong with her? Her mother hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. Yet, for the hundredth time, Adelaide wished she’d never breathed a word about why she’d broken off her engagement with Chris. She swallowed any further details of her time with Chris in Peppin and smiled. “I had dinner with Ellie and Lawson Williams while I was there.”
Rose seemed to relax a little. “Did you? That sounds lovely. Now, tell me, did you get as much writing done as you’d hoped?”
“Yes. Well, almost.” Adelaide had been too distracted to get much written while she was in Peppin. However, the rest of the trip made up for that. “The change of scenery helped me figure out what was wrong with my heroine.”
“Good! Then you’ll have plenty of time for all of our social engagements.”
“Oh.” Disappointment filled her voice, but Rose didn’t seem to notice. Adelaide shook her head slightly. Why was it so hard to remember that her mother had no interest in Adelaide’s books? Although Rose had never expressly said so, it was obvious the woman thought that writing dime novels was a waste of time and a borderline vulgar means of making money. Adelaide tried not to let that disdain affect her. After all, her mother had never read a single one of her stories, so Rose was hardly an authority on the subject.
“You do remember that we’re having a garden party at our house this afternoon, don’t you?”
She smiled as pleasantly as possible while wondering if her mother had truly mentioned this before. Sometimes Rose liked to spring things on her at the last minute so that she wouldn’t have a chance to back out. Well, Adelaide could hardly back out of this since it was taking place at their house—no matter how much she might wish she could. As her mother went down the list of eligible gentlemen who were expected to attend, Adelaide stared out the window at the busy street outside the station. The energy of the city could be both exciting and overwhelming. Trolley cars zipped down the street, clanging their approach to each intersection with a jolly bell. The clop of horses’ hooves sounded against brick-paved streets. Grand multistory buildings jutted toward a sky that seemed all the bigger and bolder for the city’s lack of hills.
Everett greeted Rose with a hug and a circumspect kiss on the cheek. He whispered something that made Rose’s tense shoulders ease completely. Finally, Rose laughed, then teased him back. Adelaide blinked at the transformation. Everett’s effect on her mother was truly amazing. Somehow he knew just how to soften her edges and ease her anxiety. Even the cadence of her mother’s voice was calmer now.
Why couldn’t Rose relax that way around her? Adelaide blinked away the prickle of tears that threatened her vision. She had them firmly under control by the time she climbed into the carriage with her family. It wasn’t long before they reached the Holden Mansion. Blossoming magnolia trees shaded the long sidewalk that led to the sprawling green-and-white two-story home. As soon as she entered, a maid rushed her upstairs where a hot bath waited. Adelaide washed away the dust of her travels, then barely had a chance to unpack a few essentials before it was time to dress for the party.
Clad in a mint green walking dress and flowered hat, Adelaide stood beside Rose and Everett on the back patio where they welcomed the guests to their extensive lawn and garden. Most of the attendees were far closer to being acquaintances than true friends. Part of that was her fault. Adelaide focused so much on the imaginary worlds she created with her pen and ink that she didn’t pay much attention to the real one. It didn’t help that she’d never felt as though she belonged in this world. Though society had been polite and welcoming, she was certain they knew it, too. After all, she wasn’t a Holden like her mother. She was simply Adelaide Harper—the daughter of a no-good traveling salesman.
“I think most of our guests have arrived,” Rose said, then nodded toward a small group of young men and women who were laughing together. “Adelaide, dear, why don’t you join that nice group of young people? Try to make some friends and, please, for my sake, don’t mention your books.”
Adelaide stiffened, then watched her mother walk away.
Everett stayed behind to give her arm a gentle squeeze. “She means well, Adelaide.”
Not in the mood for comfort or company, Adelaide shied from his touch and strode toward a hidden corner of the garden behind the greenhouse. This was her safe haven. An oak tree stretched its branches over an extremely comfortable wooden bench that she often curled up on to think or write or daydream. Today she paced in front of it. A familiar, slow-burning anger flickered to life inside her.
Why was it so hard to be the woman her mother wanted her to be? Perhaps it was because Adelaide didn’t like that woman. She was weak, superficial and controllable. She never dared speak her mind. She was boring and vapid. She was nothing like the person Adelaide used to be. The one she’d been in Peppin.
A smile tugged at her lips at the memory of the way she’d behaved the previous day—horribly. She’d kissed the last man on earth she should’ve kissed, right in the middle of his family’s store. She’d put up a fight when he’d dragged her into that alley. She’d certainly had no trouble venting her temper then. She’d come up with the idea to keep the story of their engagement going. And, great day in the morning, she’d enjoyed it—every bit of it. Well, except for the part where it had all come crashing down around her.
“Adelaide?”
She startled, then spun toward the voice to find one of her mother’s guests had followed her. It wasn’t just any guest, though. It was Bertrand Milney, the man Rose had been trying to pair her up with for the last three months. He fit all of her mother’s requirements to a T. He was successful, well-known in Houston’s elite circles, and...well, rather plain. Adelaide might not have minded that so much if they had some sort of innate connection, spark or even common interest. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. However, he’d always been kind and respectful toward her, so she’d done her best to be pleasant without actually encouraging his attentions.
His pale gray eyes latched on to her with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Was there something you needed?”
“Just a moment of your time, if that’s all right.” He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the stone pathway beneath his feet in deep contemplation. “You see, there comes a time in each man’s life where he begins to think quite seriously about his future.”
Oh, no.
“That future can never be complete without a proper companion—a wife.”
She sank to the wooden bench and barely held back a sigh.
“I’ve come to regard you fondly.” His lanky form bent down to one knee. “Your mother says that you’ve spoken of your feelings for me—”
“Oh, she did? I see. Did she happen to tell you what those feelings were?” Adelaide had told her mother more than once that she wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship with Bertrand.
“She didn’t have to say anything. I know you care for me, too, but please don’t interrupt.”
Her eyebrows rose. She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. This was the third proposal her mother had managed to procure for her in three years. So far, it was simultaneously the best and worst of the lot.
Adelaide was impressed by her mother’s effort. Only three months into the year and already she’d prompted a suitor to propose. She was far ahead of schedule. At this rate, she might be able to up the average.
Bertrand seemed to realize he’d made a mistake, for he winced. “It’s only that I’ve memorized everything. As I was saying...”
Suddenly, his words faded to mere background noise. Adelaide narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she watched an intruder climb over the fence behind him, landing in the grass with a loud oomph. Straightening, the man brushed the dirt from his knees and the palms of his hands. She’d recognized him immediately, of course, and the flood of relief she felt upon being in his presence again was downright unsettling. She stood and walked toward him. “Chris Johansen, what in the world? What are you doing here? Why did you jump our fence?”
His blue eyes caught on hers. A sheepish grin tilted his lips. He lifted his chin in a quick greeting. “Hello there, Adelaide. Nice to see you again. Your servants refused to let me into the house without an invitation. My pa and I didn’t hop a train and come all this way to get turned away at the door.”
She shook her head. She wouldn’t allow herself to entertain any silly notions about his intentions—no matter how fast her foolish heart tried to race. “I don’t understand.”
“He wants to apologize, is all. I told him—” The sound of a throat clearing interrupted him. He glanced behind her and lifted a brow. “Am I interrupting something?”
Adelaide whirled to find Bertrand still kneeling before the bench with his elbow resting against his knee. A sapphire ring gleamed in his hand. Bertrand stood, his chest puffing out a bit. “You most certainly are. You’ve ruined my proposal. I’ve forgotten the entire thing.”
“Honestly, Bertrand, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t going to accept your offer of marriage.”
“Of course you were. Your mother gave me her blessing. She said you—”
Chris made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Your mother gave him her blessing. That’s rich.”
“Excuse me?” Bertrand glared at Chris, then turned to Adelaide. “Is he why you’re turning me down? Who is this man to you? Some secret beau? Is that why you were hiding back here? You were planning to meet him, weren’t you?”
“I was...” Her adamant protests died a sudden death at the birth of a new idea. Oh, she shouldn’t. She couldn’t. Well, she could, but she really shouldn’t.
It had worked for Chris, though, for almost four years. Imagine the progress she could make on her career in four long years! She’d be entirely independent by then. All she had to do was put on a convincing show while Chris was here, which surely wouldn’t be for long. When he left, she’d be set. Her mother might not stop throwing other men at her. However, Adelaide would be able to tell those men she was taken, which should keep them from proposing. Rose would be absolutely livid about Adelaide’s choice of beau and possible groom...so much so that having a daughter settled down to the quiet life of a spinster writer would seem far more palatable in comparison.
Doing her best to hide the smile playing at her lips, Adelaide lifted her chin. She allowed the tears she’d held at bay all morning to well in her eyes. That gave her a tragic air as she said, “I’m sorry you found out this way, Bertrand. But, I suppose it’s only right that you know the truth. Just please...don’t tell my mother.”
Chapter Four (#ulink_f6a044f3-b7d2-5321-87a4-9855e6198ec3)
Chris narrowed his eyes and turned to stare at Adelaide in disbelief. Her beautiful green eyes glistened with unshed tears. A cool wind tugged at her copper curls and teased the lace swags of her skirt. She was vulnerability mixed with defiance. It was a downright distracting sight to behold. However, the hint of a smile on her rosy lips told Chris his ears hadn’t deceived him. He knew exactly what she was doing, and he’d have no part in it. “Adelaide—”
She turned and cut off his warning with one of her own. “Hush, darling. It’s all right. I’m sure Bertrand will keep our secret, especially once he knows there’s no way my mother will ever approve of a courtship between you and me.”
Catching her elbow, Chris tugged her closer to level her with his gaze. He lowered his voice so that she had to listen to him closely. “Listen here—”
“You will return the favor I paid you by playing along,” she whispered before sending a pointed gaze down to his lips. “Don’t make me kiss you, because I am not afraid to do it if you mess this up for me.”
He tamped down the laughter rising within him, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it. “You are horrible at making threats. I hope you realize that. Besides, there’s no need to waste your kisses on me. Your friend is gone.”
“What?” She whirled away from him to stare at the empty spot where Bertrand had been. “We can’t stay here.”
“Of course we can’t. My pa is waiting at the front door.”
“No. What I meant is that Bertrand is probably on his way to tell my mother. If she finds us here... Well, let’s just say it’s better if she catches up to us in a more public place. There’ll be less of a scene.”
Chris shook his head in confusion, but let her grab his arm and lead him forward. “I thought you said Bertrand wouldn’t say anything to her.”
“I only said that because I knew he would.”
“So you’re trying to fool your mother. Why?”
“I’ll explain in a minute.” She slid her hand into the crook of his arm as they stepped from the shadows of the greenhouse into the party. “Oh, good. People are dancing now. I’ll ask the band to play a slow waltz. That way we’ll have plenty of time to talk on the dance floor.”
Chris straightened the collar of his traveling suit. He’d dressed nicely in preparation for seeing Adelaide and her family again, but he still felt out of place among what seemed to be Houston’s high society. The curious stares he garnered for having Adelaide on his arm didn’t help. “Adelaide, my father is waiting. Why don’t we find him? He’ll apologize. Then he and I will leave before your mother finds us.”
“Coward.” She caught the attention of one of the servers, then instructed the man to find Olan and bring him to Everett.
“I’m not afraid of your mother,” he said, but she ignored him and left his side to speak with the band. When she returned, he took her hand and tried to guide her toward the house, saying, “I just think my idea would be a more peaceful solution all around.”
She tugged her hand free, escaping to the large wooden platform of a dance floor where she waited with her arms in a closed hold with the air. Chris couldn’t let her stand there looking that ridiculous—even if she deserved it for attempting to manipulate him. He slid into position and pressed his hand against the back of her waist to ease her closer as they waltzed. “I thought you were trying not to cause a scene.”
“No, I was trying to keep my mother from causing a scene.” Her gaze scanned the garden. “I see her, and she looks purely ticked. She’s spotted us.”
He felt his shoulders tense and willed himself to relax. He truly wasn’t afraid of her mother, but this whole situation was making him jumpy. “Where is she?”
“Near the house. No, don’t look. We have to pretend we don’t see her. That way she won’t be able to motion us over to talk to us. She’s approaching the dance floor with Bertrand. She’s stopping.” Adelaide’s met his gaze and smiled. “I told you this would work. We’re safe for now.”
“Speak for yourself. I might as well be dancing with dynamite.”
She laughed. “Why, thank you.”
He shook his head. “How about you tell me why you think all of this is necessary.”
“It’s quite simple, really. I’m tired of fending off my mother’s matchmaking attempts. I’m ready to focus on my work.”
“Your work?”
“Yes. You see—” Her voice faded to a whisper as a blush swept across her cheeks. “I’m a writer. I’ve had several books published.”
He squeezed her hand. “Adelaide, that’s amazing. Congratulations! I’m actually not that surprised. You were always the best writer in our class at school.”
She ducked her head. “Thank you, Chris.”
“What kind of books do you write?”
She shrugged. “They’re just dime novels.”
“Really? That’s pretty much how I learned English after coming to America.”
“I know. You told me dime novels were exciting enough to keep your attention and made you want to learn how to read a new language.”
“Exactly. I always have a stack of them on my nightstand. I even brought one or two along in my suitcase. Hey, I’m in charge of ordering the books for the store. I’d be happy to stock some of yours. Do you write under your real name?”
She gave a short laugh. “Absolutely not. My mother would never have put up with that. Actually, Ellie said Johansen’s already stocks my books. I write under the pseudonym Joe Flanders.”
Chris missed a step, causing Adelaide to stumble into him. “You’re Joe Flanders?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head. “Are you familiar with my books? I mean, have you read any of them?”
Every single one of them. What’s more, his copies were dog-eared and worn out. Joe Flanders was one of his favorite authors. Those Wild West stories were filled with outlaws, gunfights, stampedes and stagecoach robberies. In essence, everything Chris had been disappointed not to experience when he’d moved to Texas from Norway as a child.
And there was one other part of Joe Flanders’s fictionalized worlds that Chris had yet to experience. The hero always got the girl. That had always been Chris’s favorite aspect of the books, even if it was completely unrealistic. He ought to know. He’d been rejected by three women within the last six months. Maybe the fault lay with him. After all, he was no hero. Especially not to “Joe Flanders” if her rejection four years ago was any indication. But she sure seemed to need him now. Perhaps he could be a hero yet, though he knew better than to think he could get—or rather, keep—this girl.
He shot a covert glance toward her mother. How much trouble could it be to pretend to be Adelaide’s beau until he went back to Peppin? Judging by the past few days, a whole lot. Nevertheless, she’d done the same for him once, and he’d used her as an excuse for years, so surely he owed her something in return. He’d actually be doing himself a favor, as well. Olan was expecting Chris to spend time with Adelaide—enough to either get over her or decide to fight for her. If Chris went along with her scheme, it would appear that Chris was doing exactly that. Of course, deceiving his father had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Yet, as far as Chris could see, it was the only way to give Olan what he wanted. It was also the best way to keep a sensible perspective on the situation.
A tap on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts. He released Adelaide and turned in time to see Everett offer them a tight smile.
“Family meeting in the library. Now.” The man turned on his heel, offered his wife his arm and ushered her into the house.
Chris glanced down at Adelaide. “Um, am I family?”
“Apparently. We’d better follow them.” She bit her lip. “Will you...?”
“Play along?” He’d already made his decision, so he nodded. “Absolutely.”
* * *
Adelaide found Chris’s sudden enthusiasm for her idea surprising and extremely suspicious. However, there wasn’t any time to question it.
She wound her way through the curious guests with Chris on her heels and found Olan waiting outside the door of Everett’s library. Olan glanced inside the room where presumably her parents were waiting before he met her gaze with concern. “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here. Before we find out, I’d like to apologize to you. I think I may have said something that hurt your feelings while you were in Peppin.”
“I appreciate the apology, Mr. Johansen. Nevertheless...” She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
“Perhaps, but—”
She placed a hand on his arm to still his words and smiled. “Truly, it’s all right. We should go inside.”
Chris’s supportive hand on her back gave her the courage she needed to step through the library door. She lifted her chin, prepared for a battle. Everett and Rose stood in front of his large walnut desk, speaking in low tones. Rose caught sight of them first. Adelaide blinked as her mother smiled warmly.
“Well, this is quite a surprise. Olan, it’s so nice to see you again.” She offered her hand to Olan, then nodded to Chris. “And Chris...you’ve certainly grown up, haven’t you? Won’t y’all sit down? I’m afraid we won’t be able to speak for long with so many guests here, but Everett says you will be here for several days. Is that right?”
That was news to Adelaide. She glanced at Chris for confirmation of that while they settled side by side on the library’s settee. He was too busy watching her mother with a mixture of curiosity and confusion to notice. Adelaide couldn’t blame him. Her mother’s warm greeting to the Johansens had taken Adelaide off guard a bit, too.
Olan nodded, claiming a seat in one of the leather chairs Rose had indicated. “I’ll only be here a couple of days. After that, I’ve got to get back to my store. Chris is going to stay for a while longer.”
“I hope you get to see some of Houston before you leave, Olan. It truly is a lovely city.” Rose clasped her hands in front of her and turned Adelaide. “Now, Adelaide, my dear, Bertrand Milney told me the strangest thing a few minutes ago. He said that he caught you having a liaison with a man fitting Chris’s description, a man you claimed as your beau. Of course, I told him that he must be mistaken. Please, tell me that he is.”
Adelaide stared into Rose’s piercing gray eyes and felt her resolve begin to waver. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonize her mother. Yet why should choosing her own beau be upsetting to Rose? True, her mother had never trusted Chris—for good reason it turned out. Yet, wasn’t that the point? Adelaide had to do something drastic if she wanted any chance at gaining her mother’s approval of her writing. That was all that mattered, wasn’t it?
Chris’s hand covered hers, steadying her topsy-turvy thoughts. She met his gaze. He gave her a supportive nod. Her mouth opened, but the words she wanted to say wouldn’t come. He transferred her hand to his other and put his free arm along the back of the settee. “Adelaide and I reconnected when she visited Peppin.”
That much was true, so Adelaide nodded. “Yes, we did.”
“When my father decided to visit Houston, I knew I had to see her again, so here I am.” Chris had already informed her he was here to do his father’s bidding by arranging the opportunity for Olan to apologize. However, his tone was so earnest that even she almost believed he had romantic feelings for her. It was a bit unnerving to know he was so good at affecting emotions he didn’t feel. How many times had her birth father done that very thing? Usually, it involved Hiram pretending to be sorry for something, only to go out and do that exact same thing again.
Adelaide pulled her hand from Chris’s and placed it in her lap. “If that’s all, Mother, we really should get back to the party.”
Olan leaned forward. “Actually, I have a question. It’s been bothering me for years. Rose, what have you got against my son? Why don’t you approve of him? He’s a good man, responsible, kind. He makes an honest living. What more could you want for your daughter?”
“Pa,” Chris chided, tensing beside her.
Olan frowned. “What? You’ve got a right to know.”
Rose had never liked Chris because his charm and good looks reminded her of Hiram. The news of Chris’s infidelity had confirmed Rose’s suspicions and clinched that dislike. Adelaide knew her mother would never speak of Hiram to visitors. The less personal explanation for Rose was Chris’s dealings with Amy. Rose had wanted Adelaide to confront Chris about his infidelity since they’d first heard of it. Not to give Chris a chance to defend himself, but so that he would know that he’d been caught. Rose had also wanted Adelaide to put Amy on her guard. Adelaide had been too upset and embarrassed by the whole thing to say a word. Plus, she couldn’t have borne hearing Chris’s attempts to justify or excuse himself the way Hiram always had.
Rose took in Adelaide’s pleading look at a glance, then turned back to Olan. “I simply don’t think they’re well suited as a couple.”
Olan nodded. “Well, on that, we can agree.”
Adelaide’s eyebrows lifted. She found herself scooting closer to Chris with her chin lifted in a mix of defiance and defensiveness. “Oh? And, how can y’all be so absolutely certain of that? Perhaps we would have made a perfect couple if anyone had ever given us a chance at it.”
Olan gave her a skeptical look. “The two of you have had five years’ worth of chances to figure this out.”
“Five years when we lived over a hundred miles apart,” Chris countered. “Besides, Pa, I thought you said I should fight for her.”
“He did?” Adelaide pressed a hand to her heart. “Mr. Johansen, that is the sweetest thing, but why?”
Olan didn’t bother to explain. Instead, his mouth set in a line that looked downright ornery and he glanced away as if the ceiling was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Adelaide didn’t have time to do more than tilt her head in confusion before her mother’s amused voice distracted her. “Adelaide, dear, you do realize that it was probably in your best interest not to have spent more time as a couple. Don’t you?”
Stymied, Adelaide’s lashes fluttered at the memory of why she’d broken off her engagement in the first place. Her mother was right. Chris was everything she hadn’t wanted in a husband—untrustworthy, unfaithful and too handsome for his own good. Her voice came out rather subdued. “I suppose.”
Chris’s dark blue gaze shot back and forth between Adelaide and her mother. “Why is that?”
“Perhaps Adelaide will tell you some other time. Meanwhile, I must say the very idea of this courtship is perfectly ridiculous to me. However, if the two of you insist on it, I can’t stop you—or so Everett tells me.”
Adelaide opened her mouth to speak, but was saved from herself when Everett clapped his hands together. “All right! Now that everything is settled, let’s get back to the party.” He extended his arm to Rose. “Come along, my sweet. Olan, I’ll send your cab on its way. My carriage will take you and Chris back to your hotel later. First, you must have something to eat.”
Olan stood with a grin. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Rose took Everett’s arm as Olan walked with them toward the study door. As their parents’ voices faded into the hallway, Adelaide realized just how close she was sitting to Chris. She slid farther away. He followed her. She turned her questioning eyes on him. He lifted an eyebrow. “I repeat. Why is that?”
She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Why is what?”
“Why was it in your best interest that we had no time together as a couple?”
“Aren’t you hungry? I’m hungry. I think we should...” She tried to stand but he placed his hand on the arm of the settee to block her in. She poked him just below his right rib and had the pleasure of seeing him jump almost a foot. She had little time to smirk over the fact that he was still ticklish because he caught up with her as she attempted to break for the door. He lassoed her waist and drew her in until her back met his chest. Exasperation filled his voice. “How old are you?”
She had a smart answer prepared, but all that came out was an involuntary giggle as he tickled her elbow. She freed it from his grasp, then jabbed it into his stomach softly enough that it wouldn’t do any real damage. He didn’t even bother to wince. She turned so that she could glance up and properly aim her disdainful look. “The same age as you, apparently.”
A half smile tugged at his lips. He glanced down at hers. She held her breath. Finally, he shrugged. “Let’s call it even. Now, will you settle down so we can have an honest discussion for once?”
Her gaze lowered to the top button of his shirt. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“No, but I think it’s long overdue.”
She pulled in a deep breath, then eased from his hold to walk over to the window that looked out onto the back lawn. What did it matter if she told him? Everything had happened so long ago. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to be straightforward with him now. Also, there was no danger of her being persuaded by him to continue their long-dead relationship. Her heart was safe. She sought his gaze as he joined her by the window. “My mother was referring to your previous courtship of Amy Bradley.”
He frowned. “What does that have to do with this?”
She stared at him. “Then you don’t deny that you courted her?”
“Why would I? Everyone in Peppin knows about it, and how she threw me over for the fellow she eventually married. What does any of that have to do with us?”
“Everything!”
“Look, if you didn’t want me courting other girls, you should have married me.”
She gave an astonished laugh. “As if that would have stopped you.”
Confusion filled his eyes. “What?”
“Did you or did you not express an interest in Amy while you and I were still engaged?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you walk her home from school? Did you take her to the harvest dance? Did you tell her she was pretty?”
He froze. “Yes. Now that I think of it, I did all of those things. I had to pass Bradley’s Boardinghouse on the way home, so, since you weren’t there, she and I walked with each other. Neither of us had anyone to go to the dance with so I didn’t see the harm in us going together. I doubt I was a very good escort because I spent most of the night playing my fiddle with the band. As for me telling her she was pretty, any gentleman would say the same when a girl gets gussied up to go somewhere with him. I didn’t actually start courting her until after you broke off our engagement.”
She laughed. “Do you really expect me to believe that you didn’t have any romantic feelings for her while you were doing all of that?”
“Believe what you want. The truth won’t change. I only had friendly feelings for her until I needed...”
“Until you needed...?”
“To get over you,” he finally admitted lowly.
Drawn in by his appearance of sincerity, she caught herself swaying toward him. She swallowed and forced herself to take a step back. Oh, he is good.
“Wait a minute.” He searched her face. “Are you saying—is that why you broke our engagement? Because you thought something was going on between me and Amy?”
She clasped her hands behind her back, then lifted her chin. “Amy and I wrote to each other for a while after I moved to Houston. Like everyone else in Peppin, she didn’t know about our engagement. I suppose that was why she had no qualms about sending me a detailed account of every indication you gave her of your romantic feelings for her.”
He shook his head, a wry smile tilting his lips. “That sounds like Amy, all right. She was always pretty quick to believe every fellow was in love with her. Well, no matter. She liked being admired, but had no intention of marrying me. Turned me down flat when I proposed.”
“You...proposed to her, too?”
“Who haven’t I proposed to at this point?” Frustration filled his voice as he turned away to pace. That was probably a good thing since it took her a moment or two to close her gaping mouth. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I suppose Ruth. She’s the seamstress in town now, but she’s all business. How can you court a woman when you can’t even get a smile out of her?”
Adelaide held up a stilling hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t help being curious. Exactly who else have you proposed to besides me and Amy?”
“Let’s see. There was Amy’s younger sister Isabelle. You remember her, don’t you? Before that, I proposed to Maddie, sort of in jest. She nearly dumped a coffeepot in my lap at the mere suggestion. Ellie didn’t let me get as far as a proposal. Helen...you don’t know her, but she married Quinn before I had a chance to ask her.”
Adelaide shook her head in disbelief. “I thought your proposal to me was sincere.”
“It was!”
“So were your proposals to all of these other women, I suppose.”
“I told you I have to find a wife. I honestly don’t understand why you seem so upset about this. Like I said, if you didn’t want me wooing other women—”
“I should have married you?” She gave a mirthless laugh. “No, thank you.”
His jaw tightened. “Yeah, you said that...once before, in a letter. I think I’m clear on that. I also think it was a mistake for me to agree to pre—”
Seeing a flash of movement near the door of the room, she caught the lapels of Chris’s coat and tugged him closer for a silencing kiss. He stiffened slightly before hesitantly kissing her back. She released him at the sound of a throat clearing behind them.
Her stepfather glanced back and forth between them with his arms crossed. “I’m not a man who enjoys keeping secrets from his wife. She trusts me to tell her the truth. It took me a long time to build that trust, and I don’t intend to lose it. If I find out the relationship between you is not what you’ve presented it to be, I will tell her. So...” A hint of a sparkle lit his otherwise stern gaze. “You’d better not let me find out, and you sure better not tell me anything you don’t want her to know. Furthermore, this conversation never happened. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied together.
He gave them a firm nod before leaving the room. Chris sank onto a nearby chair, then met Adelaide’s gaze with a mix of uncertainty and amusement. “Our parents...”
She perched on the arm of the settee. “They are something else.”
“For sure.”
“I mean, I love them.”
“Of course!”
“But...”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
She shook her head, then reached across the expanse to place a hand on his arm. “We can handle this, though, if we work together. Are we? Working together, I mean.”
He glanced from her hand to her eyes. “As far as I can see, I’m not getting much out of this agreement. However, I’ll go through with it on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We have got to come up with a better signal to tell each other to stop talking.”
She laughed. “Deal.”
They shook on it, and, in that moment, the years seemed to melt away. She had her best friend back, her study partner, perhaps even her champion. One fateful kiss all those years ago had changed him into her fiancé and, subsequently, something that never should have been. Yes, kisses were powerful things when it came to Chris Johansen. She just had to remember that they were nothing uncommon. Even proposals from him were a dime a dozen. The only thing special about any of it was the heartache that came with it. She’d made it through their last courtship without experiencing too much of that. Next time, she might not be so fortunate. That was why there wouldn’t be a next time—not for her, and definitely not with Chris.
Chapter Five (#ulink_b6a016a7-3f2b-55d4-97eb-b0da2384c3bd)
Hours later, Chris still couldn’t understand what Adelaide had gotten so upset about. Why did it matter to her whom he wooed or courted or proposed to after their engagement was over? She’d given up her claim on him long ago and obviously hadn’t changed her mind about that. And he was glad of that. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to start softening toward the other romantically. He’d been down that path once before and had no intention of venturing there again.
Of course, he’d also had no intention of accepting her mother’s invitation for him and his father to stay at the Holdens’ house while they were in Houston, either. Now here he was lugging suitcases up to the rooms she’d assigned to them. Chris paused at the top of the stairs to glance down at Olan, who was only a few steps behind him. Keeping his voice to a low whisper, Chris asked, “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that Mrs. Holden is being so nice about all of this?”
“Who can understand the workings of a woman’s mind?” Olan passed him to open the door to the first bedroom. “She seemed so insulted by my initial refusal to stay here that I thought it prudent to agree. It probably worked out for the best, since this will give you plenty of time to spend with Adelaide and a chance to get to know her again.”
Chris gave a reluctant nod, not altogether sure that spending more time with Adelaide was such a good idea. They seemed to have a talent for getting each other into trouble whenever they were together. As far as getting to know her better...there was already so much about her he hadn’t forgotten that he wasn’t entirely sure that was necessary or wise.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, he deposited his father’s suitcase on the bed, then turned a concerned gaze to Olan, noticing that the man seemed a bit out of breath. “How are you feeling, Pa?”
Olan waved aside Chris’s concern and sat on the bed to open his suitcase. “I’m a little tired from our travels, but I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
“All right. If you start feeling poorly or need anything at all during the night, I’ll be in the room across the hall. Don’t be afraid to wake me.”
“Fine. Fine. Now, off you go. Have a good night.”
Chris wished his father the same, but soon found himself tossing and turning in a comfortable yet unfamiliar bed. He turned the gas-lit sconce beside the bed on low and reached for one of the books he’d placed on the nightstand. Of course it turned out to be one written by Joe Flanders—hardly the distraction he was looking for. His stomach provided that with a rumble that reminded him of how little he’d eaten at the Holden’s party earlier. He’d been too busy being introduced to all of Adelaide’s lady friends, then joining them all in what had seemed to be a never-ending game of croquet. The Holdens had encouraged them to feel right at home so Chris tossed aside his covers, grabbed a robe and went in search of the kitchen. Once he found it, he hesitated at the sight of Everett standing at the counter near the ice box. The man glanced up from the plate of food he was making. “Hungry?”
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Noelle Marchand
Second Chance ReunionIt’s been five years since Adelaide Harper broke Chris Johansen’s heart—and their long-distance engagement. But when she steps off a train in Peppin, Texas, and strolls back into Chris’s life, he can’t help but panic. Because to avoid his parents’ plan to arrange a marriage for him, he’s let his family believe he and Adelaide are still engaged.Adelaide is facing her own troubles with a matchmaking mama and a parade of aggravating suitors. So pretending to let Chris court her could help them both. And after five years, there’s no need to worry that the time together will reignite their long-buried love…is there?Bachelor List Matches: A hand-picked bride for every bachelor in small-town Texas.
Second Chance Reunion
It’s been five years since Adelaide Harper broke Chris Johansen’s heart—and their long-distance engagement. But when she steps off a train in Peppin, Texas, and strolls back into Chris’s life, he can’t help but panic. Because to avoid his parents’ plan to arrange a marriage for him, he’s let his family believe he and Adelaide are still engaged.
Adelaide is facing her own troubles with a matchmaking mama and a parade of aggravating suitors. So pretending to let Chris court her could help them both. And after five years, there’s no need to worry that the time together will reignite their long-buried love...is there?
Bachelor List Matches: A handpicked bride for every bachelor in small-town Texas
Chris couldn’t discern any pain or fear on his father’s face to show that his heart was bothering him again.
He was flushed, but it only seemed to be with excitement, so Chris reluctantly allowed his attention to be drawn elsewhere.
It landed on the woman standing just in front of his father. She was beautiful. She was familiar. She was achingly familiar.
He caught her chin, tilted her face upward and got lost in the ocean of her blue eyes. “Adelaide.”
A fleeting smile touched her lips. “Hello, Chris.”
“What are you doing here?”
Olan slapped Chris’s back just hard enough to knock some sense into him. “Son, is that any way to greet your fiancée?”
Time slowed. Chris knew exactly what was going to happen. The truth was going to come out. He could almost see the disbelief, the shock, the disappointment on his father’s face. His imagination went even further until he saw Olan’s face whiten, his hand covering his heart as he sank to his knees in pain. Chris couldn’t let that happen. Instinctively, he caught Adelaide by the arms, then stifled whatever she’d been planning to say with a quick, ardent kiss.
NOELLE MARCHAND is a native Houstonian living out her childhood dream of being a writer. She graduated summa cum laude from Houston Baptist University in 2012, earning a bachelor’s degree in mass communications and speech communications. She loves exploring new books and new cities. When she’s not scribbling out her latest manuscript, you may find her pursuing one of her other passions—music, dance, history and classic movies.
The Texan’s Engagement Agreement
Noelle Marchand
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Therefore, seeing we also are compassed about by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
—Hebrews 12:1–2
Dedicated to you.
Contents
Cover (#u920c75d6-2d18-576e-b0be-1a9ab14fe1cf)
Back Cover Text (#uec0f864d-5739-5212-911d-24e1ede62067)
Introduction (#uf5672d81-6c27-587a-872b-70f39637f38e)
About the Author (#ud46fd9d6-fea3-5edb-b0e9-35c7aa4d5fe5)
Title Page (#ud2e435bf-eb4a-501c-935f-37d3e22c1cc0)
Bible Verse (#udbbc9695-2c98-5543-96c3-a74103bdf4a8)
Dedication (#u7d83afaf-5fd1-57f0-afa1-5c0aa19a68ba)
Chapter One (#udf6971ba-9d6d-559a-8f2a-387dc6d6ffbc)
Chapter Two (#udaf87751-aebe-527c-8ffb-9cd13875309d)
Chapter Three (#u7428531e-cd1f-52d3-bbf0-57621e56d7e9)
Chapter Four (#uc5b3bea4-e857-5439-adf4-9700ab79b20f)
Chapter Five (#ub44a01f5-357a-5ba3-97a2-7bdbab0865bb)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_890b967e-e8d1-548b-b222-115af008b6d9)
March 1889
Peppin, Texas
Chris Johansen was running out of time. Worse yet, he was running out of women.
He had to find a bride before his parents figured out his long-distance engagement to the sweetheart of his youth had ended years ago. If they did, they’d send for a mail-order bride from their old country of Norway faster than he could say “Goodbye, freedom.” Or, “Hello, stranger.”
He’d tried to find himself a wife among the women of Peppin, but all he had to show for his efforts was a bruised ego. Every single one of the women he’d expressed an interest in had turned him down flat. They’d also turned right around and married other men within months or even weeks of his failed proposal. Isabelle Bradley was no exception. He’d proposed to her only a few weeks ago. Now, in a matter of minutes, she was going to marry the town blacksmith and become Mrs. Rhett Granger. Chris had been asked to play his fiddle at the reception. First, he was supposed to collect his twenty-year-old sister, Sophia, from their parents’ house.
The rich strains of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” grew louder as he approached the front door. He followed the music to the parlor where his father, Olan, served as conductor for his siblings. Fifteen-year-old Viktor avoided Chris’s gaze, concentrating on his cello. Hans, the brother whose birth had come as a surprise to their parents eight years ago, sacrificed a few warbling notes of the flute to offer a gap-toothed grin. August, at eighteen the brother closest in age to Chris, caught his eye and offered a sympathetic look.
As the tension built, Chris waited until his father’s decisive, swirling hand motion brought the music to a halt before saying, “Please, tell me the only inspiration for this music is the wedding ceremony for Rhett and Isabelle.”
August lowered his viola and shook his head. “Pa found a bride for you.”
“Congratulations,” Viktor mumbled in an apologetic tone.
Chris glanced to his father for confirmation. Olan nodded. Chris swallowed hard. “Pa, we need to talk.”
Chris didn’t wait for Olan’s response. He just turned on his heel and walked out onto the front porch, where his father joined him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Olan said, “but please just hear me out.”
Chris gave a single nod before sitting beside Olan on the porch swing. “Son, how long has it been since you’ve seen Adelaide?”
“About five years, I reckon.”
His father shook his head. “And she’s still holding you to a promise you made five years ago.”
Not exactly. Chris glanced away, resisting the urge to loosen his shoestring tie. The stranglehold he felt had nothing to do with his tie and everything to do with guilt. When his parents had sat him down right after graduation to talk about his future, he’d told the truth by admitting his unannounced engagement to Adelaide Harper. At the time, he’d believed that she would follow through on her promise to return to Peppin one day and become his wife. However, Adelaide had broken off their engagement four years ago.
Chris had neglected to mention that small fact to his parents. Only Sophia knew, because she happened to be with him when he’d received Adelaide’s last letter. Thankfully, she hadn’t breathed a word about it to anyone.
“Adelaide ought to have sense enough to marry you. Or, at least, break things off so that you can marry a good Norwegian girl like Britta Solberg.”
Chris narrowed his eyes. “Just a minute. Who is Britta Solberg?”
“Your aunt Karen’s friend’s cousin. By all reports, she is a steady, sensible girl.”
“Who is looking for passage to America?”
His father looked downright insulted. “And what’s wrong with that? It was only twelve years ago that we arrived in America ourselves. Don’t forget that, or that not everyone back home is able to arrange a passage over here. It’s our duty to help our family and friends. There isn’t enough land to go around for farmers in the country. The factories in the cities barely pay enough for the workers to live on.”
“I know, Pa.”
“Then, please, be reasonable.” Olan stood and placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “I understand that your heart is attached to Adelaide, but is it possible that hers is not as attached to you?”
Knowing the answer to that, Chris couldn’t hold his father’s dark blue gaze.
“You are my oldest son and the epitome of everything that goes with that mantle—sensible, responsible, intelligent and a good example to your younger siblings. You deserve a woman who can match you. If you think that woman is Adelaide, then do something to fight for her. Otherwise, give Britta a chance.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the truth about everything. Yet, how could he? If his father was pressuring him this hard while under the impression that Chris was practically engaged to someone else, how much worse would it be if the truth came out?
Everything else in his life seemed planned for him, was it so horrible that he wanted to pick the woman he’d spend the rest of his life with? He knew exactly the kind he wanted, too. She would be someone who evoked only the safe, companionable kind of love. He’d had more than enough of the all-consuming variety and the heartbreak that went with it.
Olan squeezed Chris’s shoulder before releasing it. “Think about what I said, but don’t take too long to do so. I want to see at least one of my children married and, perhaps if the Lord is especially generous, hold my first grandchild.”
Chris knew his father’s words didn’t stem from impatience but fear. Doc said that Olan’s time on Earth was limited. How limited, it was impossible to guess. One thing was for certain, stress made Olan’s heart flutters and pains come stronger and more often. Chris, along with his mother, sister and three younger brothers did their best to keep the atmosphere at home and the store light, comfortable and peaceful. However, they all feared a day might be coming when their efforts wouldn’t be enough.
Sophia interrupted his somber ruminations by stepping onto the porch. “Chris, I’m ready. We’d better go. I don’t want to be late.”
Chris barely managed to wait until they were out of their father’s earshot before saying, “Tell me everything you know about this Bridget Saltzberg person.”
“Well, I know her name is Britta Solberg, but that’s pretty much it. No, wait. I do know one more thing.” She pinned him with her ice-blue eyes. “You sure as shooting better not marry this woman because that will set a precedent, and there is no way I’m marrying some man I’ve never met from a country I hardly remember. Just tell our parents you won’t do it.”
“Have you forgotten that you’re the only one who gets away with the saying no to our parents?” He released a long-suffering sigh. “They’ve spoiled you rotten, princess.”
She gave an offended little laugh. “Surely, I deserve a little of it after growing up with four brothers and no sisters.”
“Hmm. That’s debatable.”
She rolled her eyes, then joined arms with him and nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t give up on finding someone, Chris. You can’t.”
He covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her encouragement was sweet even if it wasn’t entirely altruistic. They didn’t have time to discuss it any further for they arrived at Bradley’s Boardinghouse where the wedding was set to take place. As they walked up the sidewalk laid out on the boardinghouse’s immaculate lawn, Chris couldn’t help shaking his head, “I can’t believe the Bradleys are selling this place.”
Sophia stopped in her tracks. “They are? How do you always know these things before I do?”
“You didn’t know?” He grinned when she shook her head. “You’ve got to do a better job of keeping your ear to the ground. I guess you also don’t know that Isabelle’s father is going to take over running the hotel, which is why they are going to have the reception there. Or, that Isabelle and Rhett bought a new house to live in after they return from visiting his family. Meanwhile, her family will be moving to a house just down the street from theirs—”
“Thank you, town crier, but I’d like to see the bride walk down the aisle if you don’t mind.”
She was right to urge him onward, for they ended up being the last guests to take their seats. The bride was radiant. The groom looked more confident than Chris had ever seen him, which was saying something since Rhett had always been awkward around women. There was no stammering or hesitating from the bride or groom as they said their vows.
A few minutes, later Chris kissed the bride’s cheek and offered his congratulations to the groom. Rather than releasing his hand after the handshake, Rhett caught his arm and hauled him into the empty kitchen. Chris managed to pull away from Rhett’s grasp and frowned at him. “Hey, what’s all this about?”
“Sorry for the manhandling. I need to get back to my guests and my bride so this has to be quick. Since Isabelle didn’t accept your proposal, am I right to assume that you’re still looking for a wife?”
Chris grimaced. “Yes, but I’d rather keep that news quiet if I can.”
“You do realize you’ve tried to court nearly every woman in town, right?”
“Yes, but I assumed they’d all be good enough to keep it to themselves, or at the very least to each other. As it is, my parents don’t know I’m looking for a wife and that’s the way I want to keep it.”
“They won’t hear it from me. The reason I pulled you over here was to give you something that should help.” Rhett glanced surreptitiously at the kitchen door before pulling a folded piece of paper out of his suit-coat pocket and holding it between them. “Wherever this thing goes, love seems to follow.”
“Is that...”
Rhett nodded. “The Bachelor List.”
“Really?” Chris almost didn’t recognize the hushed, eager, nearly awed tone of his own voice. “Do you have any idea how much I pestered Ellie for a look at that?”
Their friend Ellie Williams was the most successful matchmaker in town. Her list of all the eligible men in Peppin—lined up with who she saw as their matches—had sparked a bit of a frenzy among the bachelors last fall. It had also helped her find her own match with her childhood-friend-turned-husband Lawson. However, she seemed to resent the attention it had brought her, and refused to answer any questions about who any man’s match might be.
Chris wasn’t sure how Rhett had ended up with it. At the moment, he didn’t care. This list would point him in the direction of the woman who was meant for him. The love stuff he could figure out later.
He reached for the first real hope of success he’d had in months, only to see it disappear behind Rhett’s back. Rhett gave him a tempering look. “Not so fast. This is a very powerful list—or, rather, God’s been using it in very powerful ways. Quinn Tucker was able to convince Helen to marry him simply by showing her this...and because she loved the nieces and nephews in his custody who needed a mother. This list helped me recognize that I was in love with Isabelle and set me on the quest to win her heart. I know God will use it for good in your life, too, or else I wouldn’t have felt prompted to give it to you. However, like anything with power, it comes with rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
“You have to keep it safe and keep it secret. Don’t change anything on it. If Ellie finds out you have it, she’ll ask for it. Don’t give it back to her. Instead, pass it along to another bachelor—as the Lord directs you, of course. Do you agree to all that?”
“I agree. Now may I have it?”
Rhett handed over the list, patted Chris on the shoulder and then left, presumably to return to his bride. Alone in the kitchen, Chris wasted no time in unfolding the list. He scanned the column of names for his own. Finding it, his gaze also landed on the name of the woman with whom he’d been matched. His jaw clenched.
Adelaide Harper.
This made no sense. Why would Ellie match him with a woman who no longer even lived in Peppin? Actually, it wasn’t that hard to guess. Ellie had been part of their childhood crowd. She must have seen them together and thought exactly what Chris had—that they were meant for each. That, somehow, someway, Adelaide would return to him and they would be together.
They’d all been wrong. He and Adelaide weren’t together. And there was absolutely no chance that she would ever return to Peppin.
* * *
“There is absolutely no chance I’m getting off this train in Peppin.” Leaning back in the chair of the small desk provided in their private Pullman car, Adelaide Harper crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
Her stepfather, Everett Holden, allowed only a hint of a humor to show in his eyes. “This is the last station that will allow us to transfer onto a train to Houston, so you’ll forgive me if I get off here. Be so good as to send your mother and me a telegram when you get to Louisiana so that we know you’ve gotten that far safely. I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.”
Adelaide watched as he grabbed his suitcase, reporter’s notebook and Kodak camera, then exited the private train car. With a satisfied nod, she turned her attention back to the manuscript spread out on the sloped writing surface of her portable desk box. If he thought he’d scare her into joining him with the prospect of an extended trip on a train, he had another thing coming. She’d like nothing better than to continue on alone. She did her best writing while traveling, which was why she always begged to go along with him on his rare but necessary business trips. They always used separate private cars which meant she could close the door and block out everything while the clack of the train wheels lulled her into the imaginary worlds she created on paper.
She also treasured the short breaks these trips gave her from her mother’s constant attempts at matchmaking. Adelaide was almost certain that with a little more hard work she could become an independent woman who wouldn’t have to settle for romance or marriage. Rose might realize that, if she ever acknowledged that Adelaide was a published and increasingly successful author.
They’d become a part of Houston’s high society through her mother’s marriage to Everett. His family name was one of the most respected in the city. Her mother expected Adelaide to be a proper society lady, and society ladies didn’t stay spinsters or write dime novels. They got married, had children and dedicated their time to charity or musical accomplishments.
Adelaide had never fit into that world. She’d never truly fit anywhere, despite or perhaps because of the fact that she’d lived in so many places growing up. That’s why she enjoyed writing. It gave her the chance to create a place that belonged to her even if she couldn’t truly live there.
A knock sounded on the half-open door. Expecting to see her stepfather, she was surprised to find it was the porter, instead. “Miss, the gentleman said you needed help with a suitcase.”
With a resigned sigh, she tucked her pencil and papers into a compartment of the portable desk before folding it into its box form. She did her best to ignore the mix of panic and dread filling her stomach as she nodded toward the suitcase. “Yes, please. It’s on the bed.”
She put on her hat, bending the brim to a daring angle that dipped low over her face. She had no illusions that it would keep her identity a secret for long in this town. Folks here were too observant and too friendly not to notice one of their own had returned. She wouldn’t mind seeing some of the friends she had kept in touch with over the years. She just didn’t relish the idea of word getting back to Chris that she was in town. Not that he’d care or want to see her. After all, she was the one who’d ended their engagement. She’d done it for a good reason, too—one far more important than she’d cited in her final letter.
Five years had passed since then. She was quite certain her heart was in no danger from him. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop it from racing as she followed the porter down the corridor to the railcar’s exit. Nor did it keep her hand from trembling slightly as the conductor took it to guide her across the gap between the tracks and the platform. Her gaze cautiously swept the busy depot as she went to stand beside her stepfather. “Pa, when is the next train out of here?”
“Ah, Adelaide, what a surprise! It’s so nice of you to join me.” Concern wrinkled his forehead slightly when she didn’t so much as offer a smile. “One hour and fifteen minutes. That gives us just enough time to grab some dinner and check out the lead I have on the story I’m investigating.”
“We are not eating dinner here.” Her stomach growled in disagreement. Perhaps Everett could fetch some food and she’d eat it at the station—behind a stack of luggage where no one would find her. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed upon her stepfather. “Wait a minute. What lead? I thought we were only here because we needed to transfer trains.”
“This is the only place for us to transfer, but one of the charities I’m investigating also happens to be based here.”
“In Peppin? Really? You think someone here set up a fake charity to steal people’s money?”
“No, I think someone in Houston is doing the stealing. I haven’t discovered who that might be despite the threatening letters I’ve received.”
Concern filled her. “Threatening letters?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing serious or out of the ordinary for an investigative journalist, I assure you. It only makes me more eager to break the story. I’ve a hunch whoever it is set up a fake charity in one of these out-of-the-way towns we’ve been visiting. The three we’ve been to so far have all seemed legitimate. I wasn’t planning to visit a fourth on this trip, but we may as well check it out since we have to stop here anyway.” He flipped through a few pages in his notebook. “Any chance you’re familiar with this address?”
She leaned closer and was relieved to see that it was on Main Street but in the opposite direction from Johansen’s Mercantile. “That has to be in the newer section of town. They were just starting to build in that area when Mother and I moved away. If you’d given me the address, I could have had one of my friends look into it for you.”
He shook his head. “A good reporter finds out the facts for himself. Besides, if something is amiss I’ll need some sort of proof. Think you can lead the way?”
“I’m sure I could.” They checked their luggage with the stationmaster before heading off to investigate. Adelaide kept her head down as much as possible, but the glimpses she caught of the town proved it had gone through a surprising number of changes within the five years she’d been gone. There were so many more businesses, and everyone looked more fashionable and up-to-date than she recalled.
It only took a few minutes for them to find the building. It looked like any other business, except that it boasted no sign to indicate what type of business might be conducted inside, and all of its cobalt-blue shutters were closed tight. Knocking on the door yielded no answer.
Her stepfather set up his camera and took a few pictures as proof of the building’s existence. “I think I’ll talk to a few townsfolk while we’re here to find out if they know anything about this place. The stationmaster told me there’s a popular café on the other end of Main Street. Let’s head over there and see what we can discover.”
Adelaide bit her lip as alarm lifted her brows. Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t find it within herself to protest as she followed Everett’s purposeful step in the exact direction she’d wanted to avoid. They’d nearly reached the café when she heard a delighted gasp. “Adelaide Harper, as I live and breathe! That is you. I knew it.”
Adelaide turned just in time to receive a hug from her former classmate. “Ellie O’Brien. No, it’s Ellie Williams now. Isn’t it?”
“It most certainly is.” The blonde grinned and then transferred her smile to the man who came to stand beside her. “You remember my husband, Lawson, don’t you?”
“Of course.” She offered her hand to Lawson who had graduated a couple of years before her.
He gave it a friendly squeeze. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
Adelaide responded in kind before introducing her stepfather to the couple. They soon realized that they’d all been heading to Maddie’s Café and decided to share a table. As they ate, Ellie asked, “So, Adelaide, what brings you back to Peppin after all these years?”
Adelaide refused to follow the speculative glance Ellie sent out the nearby window, since she knew it would land directly across the street...on Johansen’s Mercantile. Feeling a hint of warmth spread across her cheeks, Adelaide allowed her stepfather to explain the nature of their visit. He didn’t go into detail, but what he said was enough to put a frown of pure confusion on Lawson’s face. “There is no orphanage in Peppin. I ought to know. If there had been, I would have been put there when I first arrived in town ten years ago.”
Ellie shook her head. “Lawson Clive Williams, you know that isn’t true. My sister and brother-in-law never would have allowed it. Neither would the Williamses.”
“You’re right, honey. I just meant that I would know if there had been an orphanage in town.”
Adelaide shrugged. “Well, the building is one of the newer ones. Perhaps it’s in the process of being set up.”
Both Ellie and Lawson seemed doubtful.
Everett hummed thoughtfully. “In that case, I’d like to find out just how long it’s taking them to get started. Where’s the local land office?”
“If you don’t mind me tagging along,” Lawson offered, “I’ll take you there myself.”
Ellie waved the men on saying, “We’ll meet y’all at the mercantile.”
As the men left, Adelaide’s gaze snapped to Ellie’s sparkling green eyes. “Ellie, I couldn’t. Things didn’t end well between Chris and me. He wouldn’t want to see me.”
Ellie tilted her head as her gaze slid between Adelaide and the mercantile several times. Finally the woman shrugged. “It seems to me, the question isn’t would he want to see you, but...” Ellie placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward before lowering her voice. “Do you want to see him?”
Adelaide wavered. “Well, maybe...just a glimpse. A glimpse—simply out of curiosity...”
It only took a few moments for them to formulate their plan. Ellie would go into the mercantile and lure Chris over to the display window. Adelaide would catch a glimpse of him as she oh-so-casually and undetectably walked past. Afterwards, she’d just keep on walking right to the train station where Ellie would tell Everett to find her.
There was hardly any risk involved. There was nothing to be nervous about. There was no reason to examine why seeing Chris had become so important to her.
Adelaide waited until she saw a flicker of movement in the display window. Heart pounding in her chest, she strolled toward it. She stole a quick glance, only to accidentally catch the unmistakably kind gaze of Olan Johansen. Chris’s father froze. Recognition flared in his eyes. He leaned forward and knocked on the glass as if he didn’t already have her attention.
She realized she’d stopped in her tracks. Panicking, she started to turn one way then the other before realizing it would be incredibly rude not to acknowledge the man. She did so with a smile and a minuscule wave. He grinned, then beckoned her inside.
Her eyes widened. She shook her head. Still smiling, she began to back away muttering, “Oh, no. Oh, no. No. No. No. I am not going in there.”
The man left the window an instant before he stepped onto the sidewalk. He was saying something, but all she could do was stare at the mercantile door, which somehow got ever closer. She was speaking now, responding automatically to whatever he’d said. “Yes, it’s wonderful to see you, too. I’m surprised myself. I wasn’t planning to be here. Oh, doesn’t the store look wonderful? You’ve rearranged things, haven’t you?”
“Chris!” She winced as Mr. Johansen’s bellow echoed through the large store. “Chris, come here. Chris!”
Adelaide backed up a step as everyone but Chris gathered around to see what the commotion was about. Finally, Chris eased through the crowd with Ellie at his heels. He was just as tall as she remembered, but he’d filled out in muscle—a man now, instead of the boy she remembered. He moved with a sense of purpose and confidence that a less sensible woman might find downright intoxicating. His hair had grown out a little but it still reminded her of spun gold. His fingers raked it away from the worry that wrinkled his brow as his blue gaze landed on his father with a mixture of confusion and concern. “What is it, Pa? Are you all right? What’s happened?”
“I’m better than all right. Look who’s finally here.” Olan caught her hand and lifted it, pulling her a step forward. Adelaide barely held back a groan. All she’d wanted was a glimpse of Chris. Instead, she was getting a whole lot of trouble.
Chapter Two (#ulink_88a5453d-a80a-5fe7-85d2-9318204906ee)
Chris’s gaze continued to search his father’s for any indication that he was in pain or short of breath. Olan hated the worry his heart condition added to the family. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried to downplay one his heart episodes with a distraction. Olan was flushed, but it only seemed to be with excitement, so Chris reluctantly allowed his attention to be drawn elsewhere.
It landed on the woman standing just in front of his father. A hat dipped low over her right eye. Yet it did little to hide the perfection of her slightly turned-up nose, the rosy blush racing across her high cheekbones or the sweet curves of her bow-shaped lips. She was beautiful. She was familiar. She was achingly familiar.
He caught her chin, tilted her face upward and got lost in her light green eyes. “Adelaide.”
A fleeting smile touched her lips. “Hello, Chris.”
Silence filled the air. He released her. His words came out as more of a growl than a greeting. “What are you doing here?”
Olan slapped Chris’s back just hard enough to knock some sense into him. “Son, is that any way to greet your fiancée?”
Time slowed. Chris saw Adelaide turn toward his father. He knew exactly what was going to happen. The truth was going to come out. He could almost see the disbelief, the shock, the disappointment on his father’s face. His imagination went even further until he saw Olan’s face whiten, his hand covering his heart as he sank to his knees in pain. Chris couldn’t let that happen. Instinctively, Chris reached for Adelaide. He caught her by the arms, tugged her toward his chest, then stifled whatever she’d been planning to say with a quick, ardent kiss.
All it took was one slow blink of her long lashes for the dazed look in her eyes to change to pure fire. She opened her mouth to say something rude and incriminating so he kissed her again—gently this time. For a second he feared she’d pull away. Instead, she responded hesitantly by lifting her chin. Her fingers tentatively touched the nape of his neck, then slid into his hair. Suddenly, he was the one who was distracted. It wasn’t just by her kiss, either. It was the wisp of a dream that came with it, the vision of what could have been if she hadn’t rejected him.
But she had—soundly and irrevocably with little explanation and no warning. He’d do well to remember that.
His father clamped a hand on Chris’s shoulder, no doubt to remind him that they had a store filled with gaping customers. “Why don’t you two take a walk and sort some things out?”
By “some things” Chris was certain Olan meant a wedding date. In response, Chris gave a quick wave and a nod on the way to the front door. He didn’t have time to do anything else because Adelaide wasn’t going to stay quiet for long. He barely managed to tug her outside, then into the nearby alley beside the mercantile, before she whirled and punched him in the shoulder. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
He winced more at her yelling than the blow. Realizing they needed a bit more distance from the street for privacy’s sake, he grabbed her hand and dragged her around to the back of the building. Placing his hands on the wall beside her waist, he caged her in and waited for the lambasting to stop. She’d lost her hat and a few tendrils of her auburn hair had tumbled loose to gleam in the sunlight. She distracted him from the temptation to smooth them back into place by pushing at his chest. It didn’t move him an inch. Her eyes flashed in frustration. “What were you thinking?”
Realizing she’d finally taken a breath, he tilted his head and lifted a brow. “You know, all of this indignation would be a lot more convincing if you hadn’t kissed me back.”
She froze. A blush suffused her cheeks. Her eyes met his, then narrowed. Her gaze drifted to his mouth. From the look on her face, he wasn’t sure if she was going to kiss him again or slap him. He figured a distraction was in order. “Adelaide, what are you doing here?”
To his relief, she calmed down enough to lean against the building though she continued to glare. “My stepfather had business in town.”
“How long are you staying?” He forced the words out, not wanting to acknowledge that a small part of him had hoped she’d come back intending to fulfill her promise to marry him. Not that he would have agreed to anything that ludicrous. Trusting her with his heart would be akin to trusting Billy the Kid to look after the Johansen’s cash drawer.
“We’re leaving on the next train.” Her gaze turned searching yet guarded. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I couldn’t let you tell my pa that you weren’t my fiancée anymore. He still thinks... Well, my whole family, except for Sophia, still believes that you and I are planning to get married eventually. I never told them we—you broke off our engagement.”
“Then this is the perfect opportunity to do so.” She tried to dislodge his hand from the wall but he refused to move, allowing the desperation he felt to show in his eyes. She gave a reluctant sigh. “All right, Chris. What is going on? Why don’t they know?”
“It all started out innocently enough. On my eighteenth birthday, which was only a few months after you left, my parents sat me down ‘to talk about my future.’ They told me that when the time came for me to take a wife they wanted me to marry a girl from Norway.”
“What girl from Norway?”
He shrugged. “Any girl, really. Of course, at the time, that didn’t matter because I was engaged to you. I told them as much and showed them your letters. They were pretty shocked to hear I’d kept that from them, but they respected my commitment to you. They also agreed not to announce anything about it until your mother approved. But as much as they liked you, they never gave up the hope I’d change my mind and let them send for a mail-order bride.”
“So even after I ended our engagement, you just let them keep on thinking you were engaged to me because that meant you had a safeguard of sorts against their meddling.”
“Exactly.” He grimaced. “I guess that was a pretty self-serving thing to do.”
She bit her lip. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it sounds like the kind of thing I would do.”
He laughed. “Really?”
“Honestly. The stories I could tell you about my mother and her matchmaking attempts...” She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I’d rather not think about them. My point is, I understand why you did what you did. I just don’t see how you got away with it for this long. It’s been four years.”
“It helped when I moved out of the house. That kept them from knowing your letters had stopped coming. They knew the fact that I didn’t have your mother’s approval was a sore point for me, so they didn’t bring the engagement up often. If they did, I changed the subject.”
“What about other girls? I know we never announced that we were engaged, but your parents and siblings knew. Didn’t they notice you courting women who weren’t me?”
Chris rubbed his jaw, wondering at the edge in her voice that made him feel lower than pond scum, as if he’d been unfaithful to her. She’d been the one who’d broken their engagement. Not him. If she hadn’t wanted to him to court other women, she shouldn’t have given up her claim on him. Still, it was a good question that begged an answer. “My parents didn’t know I courted anyone else. It wasn’t too hard for me to hide. After all, I’ve always had a lot of friends who were girls. We all spent time together in groups, so any courting I wanted to do was done then. Sophia would cover for me if things got sticky. It also helped that I’m one of five children. My parents can’t always keep track of us that well. Besides, it’s only been in the last year that my father really started to pressure me to settle down.”
“Why the last year?”
“That’s when...that’s when his heart started acting up. Or, at least that’s when he couldn’t hide it anymore. That’s part of the reason he’s so anxious for me to get married. He wants to see at least one of his grandchildren before he—”
“Oh, Chris.” Concern filled her voice as she placed a hand on his arm. “Isn’t there something that can be done?”
He swallowed hard. “Doc Williams wants Pa to see a specialist for some more tests. Pa says there hasn’t been time to go. I don’t think that time is the problem. I think he’s...”
“Afraid,” she offered softly.
Chris nodded. “He knows he may not have much time left, but I guess he doesn’t want to know how bad it really is.”
“But what if there’s something a specialist could do to help?”
“I hope there is. That’s why I want him to see one. Until then, we may not know what—if anything—could make him better, but we know that stress can make it worse.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “This whole debacle with my supposed engagement has spiraled out of control. It’s bound to upset him if I tell him I’ve deceived him all this time.”
“I know, but he needs to know the truth.”
Chris knew she was right. He couldn’t keep this going. Especially not now with Adelaide’s return. There was only one thing left to do. “I’ll go back to the store. I’ll take my pa aside and explain everything as gently as possible, like I should have done long ago.”
“Wait.” She caught his arm to keep him from turning away. “You don’t have to go in there alone.”
Chris recognized her offer for what it was—an olive branch bridging past the disaster of their engagement back to the friendship they’d once shared. He’d missed their friendship. He’d missed her. Unfortunately, going back to the way things had been before was impossible. Even now, the hurts from the past that should have been healed flared with old pain.
He took her hand, removed it from his arm and gave it a small squeeze before letting it go. “Actually, Adelaide, I’d prefer it.”
* * *
Stunned by Chris’s gentle but unmistakable dismissal, Adelaide stared at him as he turned on his heel and walked away.
She charted his progress down the alley as he neared the front of the store. His steps were determined but slow. His head was down. She recognized that posture. It meant he was thinking hard about something—no doubt trying to summon the words he’d need to break the news to his father.
Or some other way to twist the truth? Surely he wouldn’t. Perhaps she ought to make sure.
She pushed away from the wall, grabbed her hat from where it had fallen in the dust and followed him inside the mercantile. She found that the number of customers hadn’t dwindled in the least, which meant that folks were sticking around to see what would happen next. They might as well have gone home. All of the excitement was over. There was nothing more to see here.
She caught sight of Everett leaning against the store’s gleaming oak counter with his arms crossed in front of him. He lifted one brow, then pinned her with his brown gaze. She swallowed and found herself easing closer to Chris’s side. “Oh! Hello, Pa.”
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“Um, I—” Her panicked gaze refused to meet his. Instead, it flitted to where a wide-eyed Ellie stood by a shelf of books. Lawson stood beside her looking decidedly confused. Finally, she saw Mr. Johansen watching from his spot in front of the register. A smile tipped his lips, and he offered her an encouraging nod. Chris’s words concerning his father’s health filled her mind. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a strain around Olan’s eyes and tiredness to his bearing that hadn’t been there five years ago.
She hated the mere possibility of anything bad happening to him. He was such a kind soul. Even when she and her mother had missed a payment or two toward their store credit, he’d always welcomed them into the mercantile and his home. He was a fixture in the Peppin community. He served on the school board, was a deacon at church and was always the first to support a charitable cause. He didn’t deserve the embarrassment that would come his way if she answered her stepfather’s question, in front of all these people, with complete honesty.
That being the case, she said the one thing that would make her sound guilty without being an outright lie. “I can explain.”
“Well, you’d better. And, while you’re at it, I’d like to know why this is the first I’ve heard of your engagement.”
Chris turned to level her with his gaze. Surprise and bewilderment flashed across his face. To an outsider, his reaction might have seemed to be prompted by the news that she hadn’t mentioned their engagement to her stepfather. However, she knew it was because she hadn’t immediately spilled the truth. His jaw flexed. Indecision warred in his eyes before he gave in with a minuscule nod.
She swallowed, unable to drag her gaze from his even as she addressed Everett. She didn’t want to lie—but there were some evasions she could make while still being honest. “Mother didn’t want me to mention it.”
Chris glanced away, freeing her to meet her stepfather’s eyes. Everett frowned. “Your mother knew?”
“Well...let’s just say she preferred to ignore it.” That was also true.
“That does sounds like her.” He ran a hand over his beard, weighing her words and searching her eyes. He gave up trying to figure her out with a little shake of his head. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your fiancé?”
“Of course. Pa, this is Chris Johansen. Chris, this is my stepfather, Everett Holden.” She smiled as she watched the two them exchange a handshake. Everything would be all right. Rather than air all of the Johansen’s family business before their customers, she’d given Chris a reprieve. He could tell his father the truth in private later. If he didn’t... Well, as much as she hoped he would, that wasn’t her concern. She was leaving on the next train out of Peppin.
Olan stepped around the counter. “You must come and have supper with my family this evening.”
Everett nodded. “Yes, I think we’d better.”
Panic filled her. “Oh, but our train—”
“It’s all right. We’ll stay at the hotel tonight and catch the train that leaves in the morning.”
She bit her lip to keep from protesting again as Chris offered to see them to the hotel. Mr. Johansen waved his customers toward the register and it went back to business as usual inside the mercantile. Adelaide said goodbye to Ellie and Lawson before hurrying toward the door where Chris and Everett waited. They were already deep in conversation as her journalist of a stepfather plied Chris with question after question. By the time they made it to the hotel, Everett had learned Chris’s entire life story, from his humble beginning in Norway to his future plan of running the mercantile for his family.
While Everett spoke to a hotel clerk about renting rooms for the night, Chris caught her hand and tugged her into a quiet corner of the lobby. “I know you’re just trying to help. At least, I assume that was the motivation behind this. I would just like to point out that you’re making things more complicated.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible. Look, I thought this through. Where’s the harm in keeping up the act for one more night? I’ll play along until it’s time to leave, then we’ll pretend to fight and you’ll say we ended the engagement.”
He shook his head while exasperation filled his voice. “Adelaide, we both know that your plans never work out. They always do the opposite of what you intended for them to do.”
“Pardon me. It’s been five years. You don’t know the first thing about me or what I’ve accomplished anymore, so I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself.” At his disbelieving look, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Maybe you’re a little bit right, but you have to admit my idea is much better than letting your father be humiliated in front of all of his customers. This plan will work.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, it doesn’t really matter because there’s no going back now, is there?”
“Nope.”
He sighed. “I’m going to go let my mother know we’ll be having company for supper. I’ll meet you and your stepfather here at six and we’ll walk over to my parents’ house together. All right?”
She nodded. He offered her a rather poor excuse for a smile before he hurried away. She rejoined her stepfather just as he handed a bellboy the check for the luggage they’d left at the station. After they were shown to their suite, Everett caught her arm and directed her to the settee in the parlor that connected their rooms. He sat beside her and looked her in the eye. “Explain to me again how you’re engaged to that man.”
Just like that, the truth came tumbling out. Everett listened without asking a single question until she finished. He stroked his graying beard. “That’s quite a story.”
“I shouldn’t have misled Mr. Johansen.”
“Maybe not. I understand why you did, though. Really, this is a matter that needs to be discussed between Olan and Chris—privately. There was no need to air their family business in front of all those customers. It would have caused unnecessary embarrassment.”
She nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
He patted her hand. “You got caught in the middle of a messy situation and did the best you could.”
“I did.” She bit her lip. “What if Chris is right? What if I make everything worse?”
“Well, we can’t back out on the dinner. That would be rude.”
Her sigh turned into a groan. “I never should have walked past that store in the first place. I knew better. I just...”
“You wanted to see him, huh?”
“Yes. Don’t ask me why.” Twisting her lips to the side, she stared at her ink-stained fingers. Chris had looked good—too good...the kind of good that could only mean trouble for the woman who loved him. Those classic features of his were so handsome they ought to be carved in marble and placed in a museum. Not that she’d been swayed by them. Or by the way the sun set his wheat-gold hair glimmering. She’d just observed, that’s all. That was different. She lifted her gaze back to Everett. “Why can’t all men be like you? Honorable and kind and—”
“Plain?” He chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked. I consider myself blessed to be not-quite handsome. It took me a year to convince your ma to marry me with this face. I can’t imagine how long it would have taken if I looked as good as your young man. I know how you and your mother think. Y’all are outright snobs when it comes to the handsome men in this world. That’s unfair of you, but I know there’s a reason for it so I won’t push you. I will say this. Chris Johansen might be worth a second chance if he’s half the man his father seems to think he is. Of course, if Olan doesn’t know the truth about the engagement, it makes me wonder what else he might not know about his son.”
“Plenty, I’m sure.”
As for giving Chris a second chance at breaking her heart...she wasn’t that crazy.
Chapter Three (#ulink_a55ff19e-d994-55d4-bd88-25377a1f37ec)
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Chris stared at the front door of his parents’ house, unwilling to pull the doorbell and begin this evening’s charade. It was one thing to pretend the woman he’d asked to marry him had never ended their engagement. It was another thing entirely to parade a lie before his parents’ faces. He wanted to turn around, go back to his apartment above the mercantile and forget any of this had ever happened.
“Steady.” The low whisper from Adelaide’s stepfather meant the man understood Chris’s struggle. Adelaide must have told him the truth. Now the only people in the dark were Chris’s parents and younger brothers. He rolled his shoulders as though that might free him from the ever-growing burden of guilt resting there. It didn’t.
He pulled in a deep breath, then rang the doorbell. A few moments later, Chris’s mother opened the door and immediately enveloped Adelaide into a hug. “You’ve finally come, and you’re staying for supper. What a wonderful surprise! You’re so grown-up and even more lovely than before. Wouldn’t you agree, Chris?”
His gaze skimmed from the fancy chignon of her auburn hair to her lacy cream blouse and dark blue skirt before he managed to catch himself. “She’s always been beautiful.”
Adelaide’s lashes lowered demurely as a hint of a blush appeared on her cheek. “Thank you, both. It’s lovely to see you, too. Marta Johansen, I’d like you to meet my stepfather, Everett Holden.”
After their parents exchanged pleasantries, Chris glanced down the main hall in search of his siblings. Usually the boys came rushing to greet him as soon as he stepped inside the door. “Where is everyone, Ma?”
“They’re waiting in the parlor.”
He headed toward the double doors across the hall. “Why are the doors closed?”
“Just a moment.” His mother rushed around him to stand in front of the doors. “Adelaide, would you come and stand beside Chris? Thank you. Now, Mr. Holden, I’ll need help with the other door. Slide it to the left on the count of three.”
Chris frowned. “Ma—”
“One.”
“What is—”
“Two.”
“—going on?”
“Three!”
The doors slid away. The rich, unmistakable strains of “The Wedding March” crashed over them. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. The parlor had been decked out with all manner of decorations. The largest and most prominent was the banner above the fireplace that read “Congratulations!” in Hans’s big, slightly uneven letters. The little boy’s grin was so big that he kept missing the notes on his flute. Next to him, Viktor played his cello while offering them a much shyer smile. August winked at Chris as he dramatically swayed in time with the mellow tones of his viola. Sophia caught his eye as she ran her fingers across the string of her harp while mouthing two words. “I’m sorry.”
As usual, his father served as conductor for the quartet and soon brought the music to an end. Everyone looked at Chris with such pride and expectation. He had no idea how to respond. Adelaide saved him from having to figure it out by clapping for the ensemble. “That was absolutely beautiful! What a wonderful welcome. I can’t believe how much all of y’all have grown.”
His brothers rushed forward to greet her. Viktor and August remembered her well. Hans was eager to meet her again. Sophia’s greeting was a bit less enthusiastic. She alone knew just how much Chris had been hurt by Adelaide’s rejection. As their brothers continued to monopolize Adelaide’s attention, Sophia sidled over to Chris. She gave him a congratulatory hug that was really just an excuse for her to whisper, “I’ve been praying for you since I heard. I would have come over to see you, but Ma kept me busy preparing all of this.”
“It’s all right. I—” The doorbell interrupted him. Marta rushed to answer it. Chris turned to his father for explanation. “Is someone else joining us for dinner?”
“Yes, indeed.”
The satisfaction in Olan’s tone put Chris on alert. “Pa, you know I don’t like surprises.”
His father simply clasped him on the shoulder without saying a word. Chris stiffened as their guest walked in. Pastor Brightly took one look at the parlor and grinned. Tucking the book he carried beneath his arm, the man rubbed his palms together. “All right, then. Who’s ready for a wedding?”
His brothers cheered. Chris shook his head to clear it. Surely—surely this was a nightmare he would awaken from at any second. Adelaide’s gaze connected with his from across the room and the panic in her eyes was undeniably real. They’d been ambushed. There was no way out but the truth.
Adelaide didn’t quite seem to understand that. She sounded genuinely troubled as she said, “Oh, but I couldn’t possibly get married without my mother present.”
“I agree,” Mr. Holden said, looking decidedly unamused by the turn of events.
Sophia took Hans’s hand and shooed the other boys toward the kitchen. “Let’s all go check on the cake, boys. Perhaps it’s cool enough to frost.”
Once Chris’s siblings left, Pastor Brightly searched the faces of everyone left in the room. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, there is a problem.” Finally finding his voice, Chris crossed the room to stand beside Adelaide, then addressed his parents. “Y’all cannot possibly expect us to agree to a wedding with absolutely no warning.”
Olan gave a tired sigh. “One would think that a five-year engagement is warning enough.”
Marta went to place a comforting hand on her husband’s back. “Adelaide and Mr. Holden, I understand your objections to having the wedding without Rose present, but you can always have another ceremony later. You also must remember that Rose has not approved of Chris for the past five years. I see little reason to hope that she will change her mind about my son unless she has the opportunity to get to know him as her son-in-law.”
“I agree with my wife. I would also like to point out that if a young lady truly loved my son no one would be able to persuade her not to marry him.”
If Chris hadn’t already been watching Adelaide, he would have missed the hurt that flared in her eyes before her lashes lowered to cover them. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her high emotions. “And you, Pa? What do you have to say about all of this?”
“Adelaide, you are old enough to know your own mind. It’s your decision to make—yours and Chris’s.”
That was not the response that Chris had expected from the man. Yet, Chris realized, it was the only one he could have given that would truly allow Adelaide the freedom to choose. If Everett had outright forbidden Adelaide to marry Chris and she’d capitulated, she would have appeared weak. This, at least, would allow her some strength and dignity in her inevitable refusal.
Chris also realized that she would leave as soon as she articulated that refusal. He’d have no reason to see her again. She’d been ripped from him before without a goodbye. For some reason, he couldn’t let that happen again. He touched her arm. “Come on, Adelaide. Let’s talk about this outside.”
A fierce March wind met them at the door. Not wanting to take a chance at being overheard, he kept walking until he reached the gate, then turned to face her. “I’m so sorry, Adelaide. If I’d had any idea that my parents would spring this on us, I would have done everything I could to prevent it.”
The wind teased at her hair and skirt as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I know.”
“You don’t have to go back in there. I’ll break the news myself.”
She nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Please tell your siblings I said goodbye. It was nice to see them again.”
She couldn’t seem to look at him. He wasn’t sure how or why, but what his father had said must have struck a nerve with her. Chris didn’t know how he felt. Anger had deserted him—at least for the moment. The only emotion he was left with was one he couldn’t seem to name. Whatever it was, it begged him to pull her into his arms. He shook the errant thought from his head. “Goodbye, Adelaide. Thank you for trying to help me.”
“Goodbye, Chris.”
He left her at the gate, announced to his family that there would be no wedding, now or ever, and said goodbye to Everett. Pastor Brightly left soon after. Chris removed himself to one of the chairs on the porch, feeling tired and bruised.
The sound of the front door opening interrupted his swirling, unmanageable thoughts. He glanced up as his father took the chair beside him. Jaw clenching, Chris shook his head. “You hurt her feelings.”
“I did?” His father frowned and cast a concerned glance down the street in the direction Adelaide and Everett had walked. “That wasn’t my intention. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d let it go this far.”
A beat of silence passed. Chris looked at his father. Olan’s mouth slowly curved upward on one side. Chris straightened in his chair. “You knew.”
Olan lifted an eyebrow and gave a single nod.
Chris’s mouth fell open. “How long have you known?”
“Chris, you are my son. Do you really think I didn’t see your hurt and anger the past few years? There’s also the matter of you flirting with your sister’s friends. The man I raised would never do that while betrothed to someone else.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“At first, I wanted to give you time to heal. Then I wanted you to come to me. Finally I just got sick of it and made you as uncomfortable as I possibly could to see when you’d finally break down and tell me.”
Chris hiked his thumb toward the house. “The wedding. That’s what that was about. You actually set me up with a fake wedding, and you say I’m the one who took it too far?”
“It wouldn’t have been a fake if you’d gone through with it.”
“You knew we wouldn’t.”
“Actually, I wasn’t sure. Adelaide’s always had a hold on you. She still does.” Olan waved off Chris’s protests. “I saw the way you kissed her.”
“That was just to keep her quiet.”
“Was it? Because, I’m pretty sure that by the time I slapped you on the back you’d forgotten not only where you were but why you were kissing her in the first place.”
Heat crawled up Chris’s neck. He stood and walked over to the porch rail. “Pa, what are you getting at? Are you trying to make me admit that I care for her? Why? What does it matter now?”
“We men don’t like to talk much about our feelings. I understand that. However, the way I look at it, feelings are a lot like seeds. You can bury them all you want. They’ll just keep growing. The only way to conquer them is to dig them up, bring them to the light and deal with them with God’s help. You’ve kept quiet about what you think and feel for Adelaide for so long. That isn’t a healthy way to live. I want you to talk to me. For the first time in five years, be honest with me and tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I feel...angry. Not just at her, but at myself.” He turned to face his father and forced himself to speak the truth. “I could have fought for her. I thought about it so many times. How hard would it have been to get on a train to Houston and have an honest conversation with her? But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not after how she threw me away—threw away the future I wanted us to have together. I thought we were in love. I must have been wrong, if she was able to turn away from it so easily. Since then, I’ve just been numb. I tried to find a girl who would be content with that. No one ever was. But maybe now that it’s truly over, I can finally put it all to rest.”
His father was quiet for a long moment. Right when Chris was beginning to feel uncomfortable for revealing all of that, Olan spoke. “What’s stopping you from fighting for her now?”
Chris gave a short laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. Sanity, probably.”
“Hey.” Olan leaned forward, brow furrowed. “I’m serious. You might say you’re ready to put it to rest, but I can see you still have strong feelings for her. You need those settled before you can move on. If you can move on. Maybe all of this is God’s way of showing you that you gave up too soon.”
“Why would you, of all people, want me to go after her?”
“Does it matter?”
“It really does.”
“I’d hate to see you start your marriage to another girl with this hanging over your head.”
Suddenly realizing he no longer had a buffer to protect him from his father’s attempts at an arranged marriage, Chris tensed. “Is this about Bridget Saltzberg?”
Exasperation painted Olan’s features. “The girl’s name is Britta Solberg. And, no. This is about you and the fact that being in love with someone else is a horrible way to start a marriage.”
“Listen, I never said I was still in love with Adelaide. I’m not. If that’s the only reason you think I should fight for her, then it’s not good enough.”
“I think it is. Marriage is challenging enough without that type of strain. Now, I have an idea and I think you’re going to like it.” At Chris’s doubtful look, Olan shrugged. “Well, you’ll like at least half of it. I’ll agree to see a heart specialist in Houston if you’ll agree to figure out your true feelings for Adelaide while we’re there.”
Chris stared at his father. “That, sir, is blackmail.”
“Let’s just call it...motivation.”
“Unbelievable.” Chris sank into the chair across from his father and shook his head in amazement. “You know there is no way I can turn that down. I can’t even try to stall you because the sooner you see a doctor, the better. I almost can’t even be upset at you for doing it because it’s such a brilliant move.”
Olan patted him on the knee, then stood. “I’ve got to take care of a few things before we leave, but there should be a train coming through about noon tomorrow. Be ready to get on it. And come inside. Your ma has a plate for you.”
He’d been outmaneuvered, outthought, outplanned and there was nothing he could do about it. Not that he felt particularly interested in digging through his feelings for Adelaide. What did his feelings matter when she’d made her own stance perfectly clear? Still, for honor’s sake, he ought to at least be in the woman’s general vicinity once or twice if possible. He’d just have to keep his guard up, because there was no way he was going to get his heart tangled up with that woman again.
* * *
If a young lady truly loved my son, no one would be able to persuade her not to marry him.
Mr. Johansen’s words reverberated in her head all the way back to Houston. They hurt, not because they had been cruelly meant, but because they were true. They meant her mother must have been right all along. Adelaide hadn’t loved Chris. What they’d felt had been nothing more than a childish fleeting fancy.
It had been odd, though, to stand in the Johansen’s parlor and catch a glimpse of what her life might have been. If she’d loved Chris, perhaps she would have flouted her mother’s wishes. She might have run back to Peppin when she was eighteen to marry him in a ceremony very much like the ones his parents had planned yesterday. She might have lost her mother’s approval but she would have gained his family’s love and support. She’d be much closer to her old friends in Peppin—people who were warm, friendly, and accepting, unlike the society mavens Rose was trying so hard to impress.
It sounded rather idyllic until she remembered that Chris hadn’t loved her, either. He never would have sought out the company of another woman if he had. Adelaide needed to remember that she hadn’t ended their engagement only because she’d doubted the depth of her feelings, but also because she’d feared the life she could see folding out before her the moment she’d read Amy’s letter. It was a life very much like Rose’s had been up to that point—married young to a handsome salesman with a wandering heart. Adelaide could never abide that.
She’d locked away her thoughts of a future in Peppin with Chris and focused on finding some means of supporting herself so that she’d never have to rely on a husband. Thankfully, with Everett’s help, she’d honed her talent for writing. His family’s connections in the publishing world had helped secure her first book deal. She’d managed the rest by herself and was well on her way to fulfilling her new dream. That’s what she needed to focus on, not her trip to the past.
She tightened her grasp on her carrying case as she stepped from the train onto the covered platform. Everett paused beside her and she followed his gaze to the looming three-story brick building that was Houston’s Grand Central Station. He smiled. “As much as I enjoy chasing down a good story, there’s nothing quite like coming home again. Why don’t you go find your mother in the waiting room while I gather our luggage? We’ll meet at the station entrance. That will save us some time, and we’ll be home before we know it.”
She worried her bottom lip. “And I’ll have a few moments alone with Mother to tell her what happened on our trip.”
“Exactly.” He patted her arm and set off in the direction of the baggage claim.
Adelaide sighed, then gathered her courage and slipped through the bustling crowd. In the waiting room, Rose gave her a perfunctory hug, then asked, “Where’s your stepfather?”
“He’s going to meet us at the entrance with the luggage.”
Rose scanned the crowd as they walked. “Well, I’ll have a thing or two to say to him about taking you to Peppin.”
“He didn’t know. I mean, we never told him much about our history there. I...didn’t visit father’s grave.”
“Why would you?” Rose pressed her lips together, then turned to look at Adelaide. “Did you see any of your old friends?”
“I saw Chris,” Adelaide said, because that was really what her mother was asking. “He still works in his father’s store.”
“I don’t suppose he’s married.”
“No.”
“His kind hardly ever does marry, which is a mercy, really.”
Adelaide pulled in a trembling breath. For a moment it was all she could do not to turn on her heel and board a train bound for anywhere out of here. She shook the notion from her head. What was wrong with her? Her mother hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. Yet, for the hundredth time, Adelaide wished she’d never breathed a word about why she’d broken off her engagement with Chris. She swallowed any further details of her time with Chris in Peppin and smiled. “I had dinner with Ellie and Lawson Williams while I was there.”
Rose seemed to relax a little. “Did you? That sounds lovely. Now, tell me, did you get as much writing done as you’d hoped?”
“Yes. Well, almost.” Adelaide had been too distracted to get much written while she was in Peppin. However, the rest of the trip made up for that. “The change of scenery helped me figure out what was wrong with my heroine.”
“Good! Then you’ll have plenty of time for all of our social engagements.”
“Oh.” Disappointment filled her voice, but Rose didn’t seem to notice. Adelaide shook her head slightly. Why was it so hard to remember that her mother had no interest in Adelaide’s books? Although Rose had never expressly said so, it was obvious the woman thought that writing dime novels was a waste of time and a borderline vulgar means of making money. Adelaide tried not to let that disdain affect her. After all, her mother had never read a single one of her stories, so Rose was hardly an authority on the subject.
“You do remember that we’re having a garden party at our house this afternoon, don’t you?”
She smiled as pleasantly as possible while wondering if her mother had truly mentioned this before. Sometimes Rose liked to spring things on her at the last minute so that she wouldn’t have a chance to back out. Well, Adelaide could hardly back out of this since it was taking place at their house—no matter how much she might wish she could. As her mother went down the list of eligible gentlemen who were expected to attend, Adelaide stared out the window at the busy street outside the station. The energy of the city could be both exciting and overwhelming. Trolley cars zipped down the street, clanging their approach to each intersection with a jolly bell. The clop of horses’ hooves sounded against brick-paved streets. Grand multistory buildings jutted toward a sky that seemed all the bigger and bolder for the city’s lack of hills.
Everett greeted Rose with a hug and a circumspect kiss on the cheek. He whispered something that made Rose’s tense shoulders ease completely. Finally, Rose laughed, then teased him back. Adelaide blinked at the transformation. Everett’s effect on her mother was truly amazing. Somehow he knew just how to soften her edges and ease her anxiety. Even the cadence of her mother’s voice was calmer now.
Why couldn’t Rose relax that way around her? Adelaide blinked away the prickle of tears that threatened her vision. She had them firmly under control by the time she climbed into the carriage with her family. It wasn’t long before they reached the Holden Mansion. Blossoming magnolia trees shaded the long sidewalk that led to the sprawling green-and-white two-story home. As soon as she entered, a maid rushed her upstairs where a hot bath waited. Adelaide washed away the dust of her travels, then barely had a chance to unpack a few essentials before it was time to dress for the party.
Clad in a mint green walking dress and flowered hat, Adelaide stood beside Rose and Everett on the back patio where they welcomed the guests to their extensive lawn and garden. Most of the attendees were far closer to being acquaintances than true friends. Part of that was her fault. Adelaide focused so much on the imaginary worlds she created with her pen and ink that she didn’t pay much attention to the real one. It didn’t help that she’d never felt as though she belonged in this world. Though society had been polite and welcoming, she was certain they knew it, too. After all, she wasn’t a Holden like her mother. She was simply Adelaide Harper—the daughter of a no-good traveling salesman.
“I think most of our guests have arrived,” Rose said, then nodded toward a small group of young men and women who were laughing together. “Adelaide, dear, why don’t you join that nice group of young people? Try to make some friends and, please, for my sake, don’t mention your books.”
Adelaide stiffened, then watched her mother walk away.
Everett stayed behind to give her arm a gentle squeeze. “She means well, Adelaide.”
Not in the mood for comfort or company, Adelaide shied from his touch and strode toward a hidden corner of the garden behind the greenhouse. This was her safe haven. An oak tree stretched its branches over an extremely comfortable wooden bench that she often curled up on to think or write or daydream. Today she paced in front of it. A familiar, slow-burning anger flickered to life inside her.
Why was it so hard to be the woman her mother wanted her to be? Perhaps it was because Adelaide didn’t like that woman. She was weak, superficial and controllable. She never dared speak her mind. She was boring and vapid. She was nothing like the person Adelaide used to be. The one she’d been in Peppin.
A smile tugged at her lips at the memory of the way she’d behaved the previous day—horribly. She’d kissed the last man on earth she should’ve kissed, right in the middle of his family’s store. She’d put up a fight when he’d dragged her into that alley. She’d certainly had no trouble venting her temper then. She’d come up with the idea to keep the story of their engagement going. And, great day in the morning, she’d enjoyed it—every bit of it. Well, except for the part where it had all come crashing down around her.
“Adelaide?”
She startled, then spun toward the voice to find one of her mother’s guests had followed her. It wasn’t just any guest, though. It was Bertrand Milney, the man Rose had been trying to pair her up with for the last three months. He fit all of her mother’s requirements to a T. He was successful, well-known in Houston’s elite circles, and...well, rather plain. Adelaide might not have minded that so much if they had some sort of innate connection, spark or even common interest. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. However, he’d always been kind and respectful toward her, so she’d done her best to be pleasant without actually encouraging his attentions.
His pale gray eyes latched on to her with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Was there something you needed?”
“Just a moment of your time, if that’s all right.” He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the stone pathway beneath his feet in deep contemplation. “You see, there comes a time in each man’s life where he begins to think quite seriously about his future.”
Oh, no.
“That future can never be complete without a proper companion—a wife.”
She sank to the wooden bench and barely held back a sigh.
“I’ve come to regard you fondly.” His lanky form bent down to one knee. “Your mother says that you’ve spoken of your feelings for me—”
“Oh, she did? I see. Did she happen to tell you what those feelings were?” Adelaide had told her mother more than once that she wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship with Bertrand.
“She didn’t have to say anything. I know you care for me, too, but please don’t interrupt.”
Her eyebrows rose. She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. This was the third proposal her mother had managed to procure for her in three years. So far, it was simultaneously the best and worst of the lot.
Adelaide was impressed by her mother’s effort. Only three months into the year and already she’d prompted a suitor to propose. She was far ahead of schedule. At this rate, she might be able to up the average.
Bertrand seemed to realize he’d made a mistake, for he winced. “It’s only that I’ve memorized everything. As I was saying...”
Suddenly, his words faded to mere background noise. Adelaide narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she watched an intruder climb over the fence behind him, landing in the grass with a loud oomph. Straightening, the man brushed the dirt from his knees and the palms of his hands. She’d recognized him immediately, of course, and the flood of relief she felt upon being in his presence again was downright unsettling. She stood and walked toward him. “Chris Johansen, what in the world? What are you doing here? Why did you jump our fence?”
His blue eyes caught on hers. A sheepish grin tilted his lips. He lifted his chin in a quick greeting. “Hello there, Adelaide. Nice to see you again. Your servants refused to let me into the house without an invitation. My pa and I didn’t hop a train and come all this way to get turned away at the door.”
She shook her head. She wouldn’t allow herself to entertain any silly notions about his intentions—no matter how fast her foolish heart tried to race. “I don’t understand.”
“He wants to apologize, is all. I told him—” The sound of a throat clearing interrupted him. He glanced behind her and lifted a brow. “Am I interrupting something?”
Adelaide whirled to find Bertrand still kneeling before the bench with his elbow resting against his knee. A sapphire ring gleamed in his hand. Bertrand stood, his chest puffing out a bit. “You most certainly are. You’ve ruined my proposal. I’ve forgotten the entire thing.”
“Honestly, Bertrand, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t going to accept your offer of marriage.”
“Of course you were. Your mother gave me her blessing. She said you—”
Chris made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Your mother gave him her blessing. That’s rich.”
“Excuse me?” Bertrand glared at Chris, then turned to Adelaide. “Is he why you’re turning me down? Who is this man to you? Some secret beau? Is that why you were hiding back here? You were planning to meet him, weren’t you?”
“I was...” Her adamant protests died a sudden death at the birth of a new idea. Oh, she shouldn’t. She couldn’t. Well, she could, but she really shouldn’t.
It had worked for Chris, though, for almost four years. Imagine the progress she could make on her career in four long years! She’d be entirely independent by then. All she had to do was put on a convincing show while Chris was here, which surely wouldn’t be for long. When he left, she’d be set. Her mother might not stop throwing other men at her. However, Adelaide would be able to tell those men she was taken, which should keep them from proposing. Rose would be absolutely livid about Adelaide’s choice of beau and possible groom...so much so that having a daughter settled down to the quiet life of a spinster writer would seem far more palatable in comparison.
Doing her best to hide the smile playing at her lips, Adelaide lifted her chin. She allowed the tears she’d held at bay all morning to well in her eyes. That gave her a tragic air as she said, “I’m sorry you found out this way, Bertrand. But, I suppose it’s only right that you know the truth. Just please...don’t tell my mother.”
Chapter Four (#ulink_f6a044f3-b7d2-5321-87a4-9855e6198ec3)
Chris narrowed his eyes and turned to stare at Adelaide in disbelief. Her beautiful green eyes glistened with unshed tears. A cool wind tugged at her copper curls and teased the lace swags of her skirt. She was vulnerability mixed with defiance. It was a downright distracting sight to behold. However, the hint of a smile on her rosy lips told Chris his ears hadn’t deceived him. He knew exactly what she was doing, and he’d have no part in it. “Adelaide—”
She turned and cut off his warning with one of her own. “Hush, darling. It’s all right. I’m sure Bertrand will keep our secret, especially once he knows there’s no way my mother will ever approve of a courtship between you and me.”
Catching her elbow, Chris tugged her closer to level her with his gaze. He lowered his voice so that she had to listen to him closely. “Listen here—”
“You will return the favor I paid you by playing along,” she whispered before sending a pointed gaze down to his lips. “Don’t make me kiss you, because I am not afraid to do it if you mess this up for me.”
He tamped down the laughter rising within him, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it. “You are horrible at making threats. I hope you realize that. Besides, there’s no need to waste your kisses on me. Your friend is gone.”
“What?” She whirled away from him to stare at the empty spot where Bertrand had been. “We can’t stay here.”
“Of course we can’t. My pa is waiting at the front door.”
“No. What I meant is that Bertrand is probably on his way to tell my mother. If she finds us here... Well, let’s just say it’s better if she catches up to us in a more public place. There’ll be less of a scene.”
Chris shook his head in confusion, but let her grab his arm and lead him forward. “I thought you said Bertrand wouldn’t say anything to her.”
“I only said that because I knew he would.”
“So you’re trying to fool your mother. Why?”
“I’ll explain in a minute.” She slid her hand into the crook of his arm as they stepped from the shadows of the greenhouse into the party. “Oh, good. People are dancing now. I’ll ask the band to play a slow waltz. That way we’ll have plenty of time to talk on the dance floor.”
Chris straightened the collar of his traveling suit. He’d dressed nicely in preparation for seeing Adelaide and her family again, but he still felt out of place among what seemed to be Houston’s high society. The curious stares he garnered for having Adelaide on his arm didn’t help. “Adelaide, my father is waiting. Why don’t we find him? He’ll apologize. Then he and I will leave before your mother finds us.”
“Coward.” She caught the attention of one of the servers, then instructed the man to find Olan and bring him to Everett.
“I’m not afraid of your mother,” he said, but she ignored him and left his side to speak with the band. When she returned, he took her hand and tried to guide her toward the house, saying, “I just think my idea would be a more peaceful solution all around.”
She tugged her hand free, escaping to the large wooden platform of a dance floor where she waited with her arms in a closed hold with the air. Chris couldn’t let her stand there looking that ridiculous—even if she deserved it for attempting to manipulate him. He slid into position and pressed his hand against the back of her waist to ease her closer as they waltzed. “I thought you were trying not to cause a scene.”
“No, I was trying to keep my mother from causing a scene.” Her gaze scanned the garden. “I see her, and she looks purely ticked. She’s spotted us.”
He felt his shoulders tense and willed himself to relax. He truly wasn’t afraid of her mother, but this whole situation was making him jumpy. “Where is she?”
“Near the house. No, don’t look. We have to pretend we don’t see her. That way she won’t be able to motion us over to talk to us. She’s approaching the dance floor with Bertrand. She’s stopping.” Adelaide’s met his gaze and smiled. “I told you this would work. We’re safe for now.”
“Speak for yourself. I might as well be dancing with dynamite.”
She laughed. “Why, thank you.”
He shook his head. “How about you tell me why you think all of this is necessary.”
“It’s quite simple, really. I’m tired of fending off my mother’s matchmaking attempts. I’m ready to focus on my work.”
“Your work?”
“Yes. You see—” Her voice faded to a whisper as a blush swept across her cheeks. “I’m a writer. I’ve had several books published.”
He squeezed her hand. “Adelaide, that’s amazing. Congratulations! I’m actually not that surprised. You were always the best writer in our class at school.”
She ducked her head. “Thank you, Chris.”
“What kind of books do you write?”
She shrugged. “They’re just dime novels.”
“Really? That’s pretty much how I learned English after coming to America.”
“I know. You told me dime novels were exciting enough to keep your attention and made you want to learn how to read a new language.”
“Exactly. I always have a stack of them on my nightstand. I even brought one or two along in my suitcase. Hey, I’m in charge of ordering the books for the store. I’d be happy to stock some of yours. Do you write under your real name?”
She gave a short laugh. “Absolutely not. My mother would never have put up with that. Actually, Ellie said Johansen’s already stocks my books. I write under the pseudonym Joe Flanders.”
Chris missed a step, causing Adelaide to stumble into him. “You’re Joe Flanders?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head. “Are you familiar with my books? I mean, have you read any of them?”
Every single one of them. What’s more, his copies were dog-eared and worn out. Joe Flanders was one of his favorite authors. Those Wild West stories were filled with outlaws, gunfights, stampedes and stagecoach robberies. In essence, everything Chris had been disappointed not to experience when he’d moved to Texas from Norway as a child.
And there was one other part of Joe Flanders’s fictionalized worlds that Chris had yet to experience. The hero always got the girl. That had always been Chris’s favorite aspect of the books, even if it was completely unrealistic. He ought to know. He’d been rejected by three women within the last six months. Maybe the fault lay with him. After all, he was no hero. Especially not to “Joe Flanders” if her rejection four years ago was any indication. But she sure seemed to need him now. Perhaps he could be a hero yet, though he knew better than to think he could get—or rather, keep—this girl.
He shot a covert glance toward her mother. How much trouble could it be to pretend to be Adelaide’s beau until he went back to Peppin? Judging by the past few days, a whole lot. Nevertheless, she’d done the same for him once, and he’d used her as an excuse for years, so surely he owed her something in return. He’d actually be doing himself a favor, as well. Olan was expecting Chris to spend time with Adelaide—enough to either get over her or decide to fight for her. If Chris went along with her scheme, it would appear that Chris was doing exactly that. Of course, deceiving his father had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Yet, as far as Chris could see, it was the only way to give Olan what he wanted. It was also the best way to keep a sensible perspective on the situation.
A tap on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts. He released Adelaide and turned in time to see Everett offer them a tight smile.
“Family meeting in the library. Now.” The man turned on his heel, offered his wife his arm and ushered her into the house.
Chris glanced down at Adelaide. “Um, am I family?”
“Apparently. We’d better follow them.” She bit her lip. “Will you...?”
“Play along?” He’d already made his decision, so he nodded. “Absolutely.”
* * *
Adelaide found Chris’s sudden enthusiasm for her idea surprising and extremely suspicious. However, there wasn’t any time to question it.
She wound her way through the curious guests with Chris on her heels and found Olan waiting outside the door of Everett’s library. Olan glanced inside the room where presumably her parents were waiting before he met her gaze with concern. “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here. Before we find out, I’d like to apologize to you. I think I may have said something that hurt your feelings while you were in Peppin.”
“I appreciate the apology, Mr. Johansen. Nevertheless...” She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
“Perhaps, but—”
She placed a hand on his arm to still his words and smiled. “Truly, it’s all right. We should go inside.”
Chris’s supportive hand on her back gave her the courage she needed to step through the library door. She lifted her chin, prepared for a battle. Everett and Rose stood in front of his large walnut desk, speaking in low tones. Rose caught sight of them first. Adelaide blinked as her mother smiled warmly.
“Well, this is quite a surprise. Olan, it’s so nice to see you again.” She offered her hand to Olan, then nodded to Chris. “And Chris...you’ve certainly grown up, haven’t you? Won’t y’all sit down? I’m afraid we won’t be able to speak for long with so many guests here, but Everett says you will be here for several days. Is that right?”
That was news to Adelaide. She glanced at Chris for confirmation of that while they settled side by side on the library’s settee. He was too busy watching her mother with a mixture of curiosity and confusion to notice. Adelaide couldn’t blame him. Her mother’s warm greeting to the Johansens had taken Adelaide off guard a bit, too.
Olan nodded, claiming a seat in one of the leather chairs Rose had indicated. “I’ll only be here a couple of days. After that, I’ve got to get back to my store. Chris is going to stay for a while longer.”
“I hope you get to see some of Houston before you leave, Olan. It truly is a lovely city.” Rose clasped her hands in front of her and turned Adelaide. “Now, Adelaide, my dear, Bertrand Milney told me the strangest thing a few minutes ago. He said that he caught you having a liaison with a man fitting Chris’s description, a man you claimed as your beau. Of course, I told him that he must be mistaken. Please, tell me that he is.”
Adelaide stared into Rose’s piercing gray eyes and felt her resolve begin to waver. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonize her mother. Yet why should choosing her own beau be upsetting to Rose? True, her mother had never trusted Chris—for good reason it turned out. Yet, wasn’t that the point? Adelaide had to do something drastic if she wanted any chance at gaining her mother’s approval of her writing. That was all that mattered, wasn’t it?
Chris’s hand covered hers, steadying her topsy-turvy thoughts. She met his gaze. He gave her a supportive nod. Her mouth opened, but the words she wanted to say wouldn’t come. He transferred her hand to his other and put his free arm along the back of the settee. “Adelaide and I reconnected when she visited Peppin.”
That much was true, so Adelaide nodded. “Yes, we did.”
“When my father decided to visit Houston, I knew I had to see her again, so here I am.” Chris had already informed her he was here to do his father’s bidding by arranging the opportunity for Olan to apologize. However, his tone was so earnest that even she almost believed he had romantic feelings for her. It was a bit unnerving to know he was so good at affecting emotions he didn’t feel. How many times had her birth father done that very thing? Usually, it involved Hiram pretending to be sorry for something, only to go out and do that exact same thing again.
Adelaide pulled her hand from Chris’s and placed it in her lap. “If that’s all, Mother, we really should get back to the party.”
Olan leaned forward. “Actually, I have a question. It’s been bothering me for years. Rose, what have you got against my son? Why don’t you approve of him? He’s a good man, responsible, kind. He makes an honest living. What more could you want for your daughter?”
“Pa,” Chris chided, tensing beside her.
Olan frowned. “What? You’ve got a right to know.”
Rose had never liked Chris because his charm and good looks reminded her of Hiram. The news of Chris’s infidelity had confirmed Rose’s suspicions and clinched that dislike. Adelaide knew her mother would never speak of Hiram to visitors. The less personal explanation for Rose was Chris’s dealings with Amy. Rose had wanted Adelaide to confront Chris about his infidelity since they’d first heard of it. Not to give Chris a chance to defend himself, but so that he would know that he’d been caught. Rose had also wanted Adelaide to put Amy on her guard. Adelaide had been too upset and embarrassed by the whole thing to say a word. Plus, she couldn’t have borne hearing Chris’s attempts to justify or excuse himself the way Hiram always had.
Rose took in Adelaide’s pleading look at a glance, then turned back to Olan. “I simply don’t think they’re well suited as a couple.”
Olan nodded. “Well, on that, we can agree.”
Adelaide’s eyebrows lifted. She found herself scooting closer to Chris with her chin lifted in a mix of defiance and defensiveness. “Oh? And, how can y’all be so absolutely certain of that? Perhaps we would have made a perfect couple if anyone had ever given us a chance at it.”
Olan gave her a skeptical look. “The two of you have had five years’ worth of chances to figure this out.”
“Five years when we lived over a hundred miles apart,” Chris countered. “Besides, Pa, I thought you said I should fight for her.”
“He did?” Adelaide pressed a hand to her heart. “Mr. Johansen, that is the sweetest thing, but why?”
Olan didn’t bother to explain. Instead, his mouth set in a line that looked downright ornery and he glanced away as if the ceiling was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Adelaide didn’t have time to do more than tilt her head in confusion before her mother’s amused voice distracted her. “Adelaide, dear, you do realize that it was probably in your best interest not to have spent more time as a couple. Don’t you?”
Stymied, Adelaide’s lashes fluttered at the memory of why she’d broken off her engagement in the first place. Her mother was right. Chris was everything she hadn’t wanted in a husband—untrustworthy, unfaithful and too handsome for his own good. Her voice came out rather subdued. “I suppose.”
Chris’s dark blue gaze shot back and forth between Adelaide and her mother. “Why is that?”
“Perhaps Adelaide will tell you some other time. Meanwhile, I must say the very idea of this courtship is perfectly ridiculous to me. However, if the two of you insist on it, I can’t stop you—or so Everett tells me.”
Adelaide opened her mouth to speak, but was saved from herself when Everett clapped his hands together. “All right! Now that everything is settled, let’s get back to the party.” He extended his arm to Rose. “Come along, my sweet. Olan, I’ll send your cab on its way. My carriage will take you and Chris back to your hotel later. First, you must have something to eat.”
Olan stood with a grin. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Rose took Everett’s arm as Olan walked with them toward the study door. As their parents’ voices faded into the hallway, Adelaide realized just how close she was sitting to Chris. She slid farther away. He followed her. She turned her questioning eyes on him. He lifted an eyebrow. “I repeat. Why is that?”
She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Why is what?”
“Why was it in your best interest that we had no time together as a couple?”
“Aren’t you hungry? I’m hungry. I think we should...” She tried to stand but he placed his hand on the arm of the settee to block her in. She poked him just below his right rib and had the pleasure of seeing him jump almost a foot. She had little time to smirk over the fact that he was still ticklish because he caught up with her as she attempted to break for the door. He lassoed her waist and drew her in until her back met his chest. Exasperation filled his voice. “How old are you?”
She had a smart answer prepared, but all that came out was an involuntary giggle as he tickled her elbow. She freed it from his grasp, then jabbed it into his stomach softly enough that it wouldn’t do any real damage. He didn’t even bother to wince. She turned so that she could glance up and properly aim her disdainful look. “The same age as you, apparently.”
A half smile tugged at his lips. He glanced down at hers. She held her breath. Finally, he shrugged. “Let’s call it even. Now, will you settle down so we can have an honest discussion for once?”
Her gaze lowered to the top button of his shirt. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“No, but I think it’s long overdue.”
She pulled in a deep breath, then eased from his hold to walk over to the window that looked out onto the back lawn. What did it matter if she told him? Everything had happened so long ago. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to be straightforward with him now. Also, there was no danger of her being persuaded by him to continue their long-dead relationship. Her heart was safe. She sought his gaze as he joined her by the window. “My mother was referring to your previous courtship of Amy Bradley.”
He frowned. “What does that have to do with this?”
She stared at him. “Then you don’t deny that you courted her?”
“Why would I? Everyone in Peppin knows about it, and how she threw me over for the fellow she eventually married. What does any of that have to do with us?”
“Everything!”
“Look, if you didn’t want me courting other girls, you should have married me.”
She gave an astonished laugh. “As if that would have stopped you.”
Confusion filled his eyes. “What?”
“Did you or did you not express an interest in Amy while you and I were still engaged?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you walk her home from school? Did you take her to the harvest dance? Did you tell her she was pretty?”
He froze. “Yes. Now that I think of it, I did all of those things. I had to pass Bradley’s Boardinghouse on the way home, so, since you weren’t there, she and I walked with each other. Neither of us had anyone to go to the dance with so I didn’t see the harm in us going together. I doubt I was a very good escort because I spent most of the night playing my fiddle with the band. As for me telling her she was pretty, any gentleman would say the same when a girl gets gussied up to go somewhere with him. I didn’t actually start courting her until after you broke off our engagement.”
She laughed. “Do you really expect me to believe that you didn’t have any romantic feelings for her while you were doing all of that?”
“Believe what you want. The truth won’t change. I only had friendly feelings for her until I needed...”
“Until you needed...?”
“To get over you,” he finally admitted lowly.
Drawn in by his appearance of sincerity, she caught herself swaying toward him. She swallowed and forced herself to take a step back. Oh, he is good.
“Wait a minute.” He searched her face. “Are you saying—is that why you broke our engagement? Because you thought something was going on between me and Amy?”
She clasped her hands behind her back, then lifted her chin. “Amy and I wrote to each other for a while after I moved to Houston. Like everyone else in Peppin, she didn’t know about our engagement. I suppose that was why she had no qualms about sending me a detailed account of every indication you gave her of your romantic feelings for her.”
He shook his head, a wry smile tilting his lips. “That sounds like Amy, all right. She was always pretty quick to believe every fellow was in love with her. Well, no matter. She liked being admired, but had no intention of marrying me. Turned me down flat when I proposed.”
“You...proposed to her, too?”
“Who haven’t I proposed to at this point?” Frustration filled his voice as he turned away to pace. That was probably a good thing since it took her a moment or two to close her gaping mouth. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I suppose Ruth. She’s the seamstress in town now, but she’s all business. How can you court a woman when you can’t even get a smile out of her?”
Adelaide held up a stilling hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t help being curious. Exactly who else have you proposed to besides me and Amy?”
“Let’s see. There was Amy’s younger sister Isabelle. You remember her, don’t you? Before that, I proposed to Maddie, sort of in jest. She nearly dumped a coffeepot in my lap at the mere suggestion. Ellie didn’t let me get as far as a proposal. Helen...you don’t know her, but she married Quinn before I had a chance to ask her.”
Adelaide shook her head in disbelief. “I thought your proposal to me was sincere.”
“It was!”
“So were your proposals to all of these other women, I suppose.”
“I told you I have to find a wife. I honestly don’t understand why you seem so upset about this. Like I said, if you didn’t want me wooing other women—”
“I should have married you?” She gave a mirthless laugh. “No, thank you.”
His jaw tightened. “Yeah, you said that...once before, in a letter. I think I’m clear on that. I also think it was a mistake for me to agree to pre—”
Seeing a flash of movement near the door of the room, she caught the lapels of Chris’s coat and tugged him closer for a silencing kiss. He stiffened slightly before hesitantly kissing her back. She released him at the sound of a throat clearing behind them.
Her stepfather glanced back and forth between them with his arms crossed. “I’m not a man who enjoys keeping secrets from his wife. She trusts me to tell her the truth. It took me a long time to build that trust, and I don’t intend to lose it. If I find out the relationship between you is not what you’ve presented it to be, I will tell her. So...” A hint of a sparkle lit his otherwise stern gaze. “You’d better not let me find out, and you sure better not tell me anything you don’t want her to know. Furthermore, this conversation never happened. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied together.
He gave them a firm nod before leaving the room. Chris sank onto a nearby chair, then met Adelaide’s gaze with a mix of uncertainty and amusement. “Our parents...”
She perched on the arm of the settee. “They are something else.”
“For sure.”
“I mean, I love them.”
“Of course!”
“But...”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
She shook her head, then reached across the expanse to place a hand on his arm. “We can handle this, though, if we work together. Are we? Working together, I mean.”
He glanced from her hand to her eyes. “As far as I can see, I’m not getting much out of this agreement. However, I’ll go through with it on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We have got to come up with a better signal to tell each other to stop talking.”
She laughed. “Deal.”
They shook on it, and, in that moment, the years seemed to melt away. She had her best friend back, her study partner, perhaps even her champion. One fateful kiss all those years ago had changed him into her fiancé and, subsequently, something that never should have been. Yes, kisses were powerful things when it came to Chris Johansen. She just had to remember that they were nothing uncommon. Even proposals from him were a dime a dozen. The only thing special about any of it was the heartache that came with it. She’d made it through their last courtship without experiencing too much of that. Next time, she might not be so fortunate. That was why there wouldn’t be a next time—not for her, and definitely not with Chris.
Chapter Five (#ulink_b6a016a7-3f2b-55d4-97eb-b0da2384c3bd)
Hours later, Chris still couldn’t understand what Adelaide had gotten so upset about. Why did it matter to her whom he wooed or courted or proposed to after their engagement was over? She’d given up her claim on him long ago and obviously hadn’t changed her mind about that. And he was glad of that. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to start softening toward the other romantically. He’d been down that path once before and had no intention of venturing there again.
Of course, he’d also had no intention of accepting her mother’s invitation for him and his father to stay at the Holdens’ house while they were in Houston, either. Now here he was lugging suitcases up to the rooms she’d assigned to them. Chris paused at the top of the stairs to glance down at Olan, who was only a few steps behind him. Keeping his voice to a low whisper, Chris asked, “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that Mrs. Holden is being so nice about all of this?”
“Who can understand the workings of a woman’s mind?” Olan passed him to open the door to the first bedroom. “She seemed so insulted by my initial refusal to stay here that I thought it prudent to agree. It probably worked out for the best, since this will give you plenty of time to spend with Adelaide and a chance to get to know her again.”
Chris gave a reluctant nod, not altogether sure that spending more time with Adelaide was such a good idea. They seemed to have a talent for getting each other into trouble whenever they were together. As far as getting to know her better...there was already so much about her he hadn’t forgotten that he wasn’t entirely sure that was necessary or wise.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, he deposited his father’s suitcase on the bed, then turned a concerned gaze to Olan, noticing that the man seemed a bit out of breath. “How are you feeling, Pa?”
Olan waved aside Chris’s concern and sat on the bed to open his suitcase. “I’m a little tired from our travels, but I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
“All right. If you start feeling poorly or need anything at all during the night, I’ll be in the room across the hall. Don’t be afraid to wake me.”
“Fine. Fine. Now, off you go. Have a good night.”
Chris wished his father the same, but soon found himself tossing and turning in a comfortable yet unfamiliar bed. He turned the gas-lit sconce beside the bed on low and reached for one of the books he’d placed on the nightstand. Of course it turned out to be one written by Joe Flanders—hardly the distraction he was looking for. His stomach provided that with a rumble that reminded him of how little he’d eaten at the Holden’s party earlier. He’d been too busy being introduced to all of Adelaide’s lady friends, then joining them all in what had seemed to be a never-ending game of croquet. The Holdens had encouraged them to feel right at home so Chris tossed aside his covers, grabbed a robe and went in search of the kitchen. Once he found it, he hesitated at the sight of Everett standing at the counter near the ice box. The man glanced up from the plate of food he was making. “Hungry?”
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Noelle Marchand
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Second Chance ReunionIt’s been five years since Adelaide Harper broke Chris Johansen’s heart—and their long-distance engagement. But when she steps off a train in Peppin, Texas, and strolls back into Chris’s life, he can’t help but panic. Because to avoid his parents’ plan to arrange a marriage for him, he’s let his family believe he and Adelaide are still engaged.Adelaide is facing her own troubles with a matchmaking mama and a parade of aggravating suitors. So pretending to let Chris court her could help them both. And after five years, there’s no need to worry that the time together will reignite their long-buried love…is there?Bachelor List Matches: A hand-picked bride for every bachelor in small-town Texas.