Dear Lovelorn

by Marie Higgins

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, he moved away from his desk to the window. The weather was perfect today – the kind of weather for a picnic in the park with a lovely lady. After all, it was only lunch, so maybe Annette wouldn’t think twice if he asked her to have lunch with him. But since they’d never done that before, she’d definitely wonder about his intentions.

  The lilt of her heavenly laughter pulled Peter away from the window as he followed the sound floating through the air. Just as he figured it would, it brought him to Malcolm’s office. When Peter walked in, Malcolm motioned to the stack of subscriptions on his desk.

  “Come join in the merriment,” Malcolm said, “and look at the new subscribers we have in just one day.”

  “Are you kidding? That’s quite a bit in one day.” Peter stopped at the desk and picked up the stack of half-pages. “How coincidental that they all happened on the day the paper went out.”

  Malcolm laughed. “I have heard from two stores in town who sell our paper, and they have already requested more because they are sold out.”

  Peter gasped and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s not even the noon hour.” He nodded, moving his attention to Annette. She wore a lavender dress today and had her hair pulled back with a ribbon that matched the color of her dress. Her pretty eyes twinkled. “This is truly amazing.”

  “I agree.” Her cheeks darkened slightly. “I don’t believe this has ever happened to the newspaper.”

  “It hasn’t.” Malcolm sat in his chair. “Which is remarkable in itself.”

  “Then this certainly calls for a celebration.” Peter smiled brightly. “I say we celebrate over dinner tonight. I’ll make arrangements at Miss Janelle’s Restaurant. Her meals are Heaven on earth.”

  “Very true. I’m quite fond of Nellie’s recipes,” Malcolm added. “Her mother told me that Nellie comes up with the different exotic meals herself.”

  Annette sucked in a quick breath. “Nellie?”

  Peter nodded. “Perhaps we should call her Miss Ramsey, instead, but Janelle’s mother always calls her Nellie.”

  As Annette’s eyes widened in surprise, Peter recalled one of the articles about Shy Nellie. Could Janelle and the woman who’d written the letter be one of the same?

  “I agree.” Malcolm slapped his hand on the desk. “Let’s plan for tonight at seven.”

  “I’ll let Mrs. Ramsey know we’ll be there.”

  Annette sighed and moved toward the adjoining office and toward her desk. “Well, I hope you two enjoy yourself. I’ll let Matilda know only to cook me supper tonight.”

  “Why?” Peter said quickly. “Aren’t you coming with us tonight?”

  She stopped suddenly and her surprised stare locked on Malcolm’s face as she waited for approval. Peter wondered why she didn’t feel included when they talked about the dinner celebration.

  Malcolm cocked his head. “Do you have other plans tonight, Annette?”

  “Um, no, but—”

  “Then it’s settled.” Malcolm gave her a final nod. “Tell the cook that she won’t need to fix us dinner tonight.”

  Annette’s shoulders relaxed and she grinned. “I will, Father.”

  She changed her direction, heading for the other door.

  “And while you’re out,” Malcolm added, “why don’t you take Peter with you and see if we can find a good picture to head the newspaper’s newest section – Dear Lovelorn.”

  “Are you serious?” Her voice raised in excitement. “You want this to be part of the weekly paper?”

  Malcolm nodded. “I do, in fact, if the great response we’re getting from the article keeps growing, we might think about putting out the paper twice a week, instead of once.”

  Peter laughed excitedly. “Now that would be a good thing.” He turned to Annette. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave and I’ll get the camera equipment. I know a few spots in town that will make a great picture for the article heading.”

  “Actually, I’m ready now.” The color in her cheeks bloomed brighter.

  He stepped beside her, holding out his elbow. “Then shall we go?”

  Her gaze jumped back and forth between his face and his arm until finally, she slipped her hand around his elbow and smiled.

  “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  Peter drove Annette’s buggy with the camera equipment loaded in the trunk hooked to the back of the vehicle, and it was refreshing to have a man take control of the vehicle. When he’d helped her inside, she was careful not to let her boot slip. Her body still tingled from when he’d caught her before, even after a whole week had passed.

  Sitting next to him, she waited for that sensation to buzz through her body, just as what happened before they were close. Every time his arm bumped against hers, the warm tingles started. Because she was so close to him, his masculine scent surrounded her. She couldn’t tell why her heart fluttered faster than normal – was it his scent or because his body brushed against hers?

  “I bet you’re anxious for more letters,” he said after a few moments of silence.

  “Letters? Oh, yes. I’m sure there will be more brought in tomorrow’s mail.”

  “You’ll have to let me read them.” He glanced at her and winked.

  She studied him closely and wondered if that was a flirtatious wink. Then again, she was probably reading too much into it. After all, why would he flirt with her? “You can’t wait to read them in the newspaper?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  “Well, I’ll admit, I’m lucky to be the first one to read them.”

  “Then I think you should include me in on your luck because lately, I’ve been needing more of it.”

  “More luck?”

  “Yes.” He turned his attention back to the road.

  “Why, Peter? What’s going on in your life that’s unlucky? As long as I have known you, I have always thought you had a good life.”

  “It’s been a good life, but… not good enough.”

  “And what more do you want?”

  He glanced down at her. His expression had softened, which made his eyes greener. Having him look this way at her made it hard to breathe again.

  “Would you laugh at me if I told you that I wanted love in my life?”

  She sucked in a fast breath. “Love?” Her mind spun in confusion. What was he talking about? And why was he being so open with her?

  Chuckling, he peered toward the road again, directing the horse around a street corner.

  “Yes, you heard me right. I guess it’s because I got caught up in those letters lately, and then today when I read the Lovelorn’s responses. I couldn’t help but feel as if I was missing out on something, too.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. Could one of those letters have been from him? It was hard to believe, but it was possible. She swallowed hard before clearing her dry throat. “Which response did you like the best?”

  He shrugged. “I liked them all, actually.”

  “Yes, me, too.” She breathed slower. Perhaps he hadn’t written one of those letters she’d answered. Knowing that bit of information would have been extremely awkward, especially since they were spending more time together today.

  “However,” he glanced at her, grinning, “do you know a woman who is looking for a hard-working man who likes cuddling in front of the hearth on cold nights?” He shrugged. “Maybe you could introduce us.”

  She couldn’t stop the laugh blurting out of her mouth. He couldn’t be serious… and yet, gazing into his enchanting eyes made her wonder if he was being honest. “Really?”

  “Sure, why not. After all, the Lovelorn did suggest it in her response, so let’s put it to the test and see if it works.”

  “Are you joking?”

  He pulled the buggy to a stop in front of a park. This was her favorite park, too! She loved the shade and the flower gardens. She loved how quiet it was away from the hustle and bustle of the big city.

  He set the brake
and hooked the reins around the post near the seat before turning toward her. “I’m being very serious, Annette. I think we should try this. After all, we could write the Lovelorn and let them know that the suggestion worked.”

  She grinned. “And I’m sure you’re thinking of how well it will help the newspaper, too.”

  “Yes, I suppose I am thinking of that.”

  She bumped against him. “You are like my father. Everything he does is because of the newspaper.”

  He leaned closer, staring into her eyes. “Not everything I do is for the newspaper, which you’d realize if you knew me better.”

  She held her breath, waiting for him to pull away. Why was he acting this way? And why now? She certainly didn’t know how to handle his new attitude around her. If only she hadn’t started thinking of him as a real man…

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. She nearly swooned, but thankfully, he pulled away and climbed out of the buggy. At least she could breathe again. For now, anyway.

  SIX

  Peter didn’t want to frighten her, which was why he climbed out when he had. She was just too adorable the way she looked at him with those wide blue eyes, and he just couldn’t be around her like this without losing his mind. However, he’d have to try. He still wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing. Was he acting this way just because he was lonely? He hoped not. He never tolerated desperate people.

  He helped her down from the buggy, holding her hand a little longer than he should have. But she acted like she was afraid to touch him. Obviously, she had noticed something was different about the way he treated her. Now the fear was on him because he didn’t know what would happen if he discovered she wasn’t interested in him.

  He offered his elbow again, and she hesitated before taking it. But for now, they were just going to stroll through the park to look for things that might make a great heading picture for the Lovelorn’s column.

  “Have you talked with Henry lately?”

  “Who?” Her attention snapped up to his face. Confusion was on her expression.

  “Henry Peck, the man who lied to you and broke your heart.”

  Chuckling, she rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe I have put him and my injured heart out of my mind.” She shrugged. “I blame it on the excitement about the article.”

  “You haven’t told him that you saw him holding that other woman?”

  “No.” She turned and looked ahead of them. “And because he hasn’t tried to contact me, that tells me that he doesn’t care about me, either.”

  “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

  Her steps halted and she looked up at his face again. “You are?”

  “Yes. I saw your tears, remember?”

  She nodded. “I think what originally hurt me was that he’d lied to me. Then I just felt sad because once again, I was without a beau.”

  “You seem to be all right with it now.”

  “I suppose.” She sighed. “Thank you for being there when I needed someone to talk to.”

  He patted her hand that still rested on the crook of his arm. “Anytime. It made me feel good to know that you had wanted to talk to me.”

  She smiled. “Only because you were a man.”

  “Really? That was the only reason?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “Well, I just couldn’t understand him – or lying men in general – and so, I knew I’d needed another man to ask my questions to. I also knew my father wouldn’t be of any help to me.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I’m happy to have helped.”

  They resumed their walk. The sky was so blue, reminding him of her pretty eyes. There was a slight wind that teased her hair on her forehead. As he studied her, she appeared to relax the longer she looked around the park. He was relieved that she enjoyed the outdoors instead of wanting to be in that stuffy building all day.

  “How about the flowers?” She pointed to a patch of Marigolds. “Do you think that will look lovely for the heading?”

  “Yes, I’m sure it will… if the writer is a woman.” Her gaze swung and met him. “But if the writer is a man, I’m sure he won’t like flowers at all.”

  “Yes, I suppose I didn’t think of it that way.”

  “Which is probably why your father suggested I come with you.”

  “Yes. Father does know what is best for the newspaper.” She turned back toward the path they were heading down. “What suggestions do you have?”

  “Over here,” he turned them down another walkway, “is a pond with ducks. I thought about taking a picture of that. What do you think?”

  “Yes, that is a lovely pond, but I think it may still be more feminine.”

  “You do?”

  “I think we need something neutral.”

  “What might that be?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “We’ll know when we see it.”

  Silence grew between them, which made Peter uncomfortable. He enjoyed hearing her voice and gazing into her amazing eyes. He needed to find a subject that she enjoyed talking about. Suddenly, he remembered what she liked to do in her spare time.

  “Annette, how are your books coming along?”

  Her steps faltered for a moment as her head snapped up to look at him. “My books? You really want to know about my books?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He liked the sparkle in her surprised eyes, and especially, the way she looked at him with so much gratitude as if he’d just done something incredible for her.

  “Are you aware that my stories are about romance?”

  He grinned. “Romance, huh? Well, now I’m very interested.”

  As she talked about some of the stories she’d written, he found himself lost in her eyes. They’d stopped at the pond and leaned against the iron fence surrounding the water, but he didn’t care about the ducks. Instead, he enjoyed hearing her story ideas. She described her plots so well, he felt like he was inside the story, experiencing everything.

  She paused as her gaze moved over his face. “Peter, I think I know what the heading should look like for the Lovelorn column.”

  His mind jerked back to the present. How had he gotten so sidetracked? “What idea do you have?”

  She pointed in a distance and he turned to look. The sun shone on an empty park bench.

  “What if we take a picture of a bench with a single flower on the seat? Then, we can have something that might satisfy both man and woman.”

  Immediately, his mind created the picture. He gasped and spun toward her. “Annette, that’s perfect.”

  Her face lit up again, and her eyes twinkled. “It is?”

  Without thinking of the consequences, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up enough to swing her around. She tilted back her head and laughed with him. When he finally realized what he’d done – and that she enjoyed it, too – he set her back on her feet and hesitantly stepped away.

  “I’ll go collect the equipment. You sit on the bench and make sure nobody else takes it.”

  “All right.”

  He hurried to the buggy, not believing what had just happened between them. They were definitely growing closer, and he wondered what would come next. A kiss perhaps?

  All he knew was that if things like this kept happening between them, he was going to steal a kiss. He just prayed that she’d give it to him willingly, instead.

  * * * *

  Annette hadn’t had so much fun in her life, and yet, all she and Peter were doing was talking. However, as they set up the camera and tried to take pictures, Peter was being silly, which of course, made her want to be that way, too. She couldn’t wait to see how the pictures turned out. She was sure her father wouldn’t approve, but she wanted to keep them just to remember the enjoyable afternoon she had with a man who surprised her at every turn.

  Peter had her sit on the bench as he adjusted the camera equipment, but he told her what position he wanted her in and then took pictures. They had laughed so hard,
she was certain her sides would hurt tomorrow. But it didn’t matter. It was nice to get away from her straight-laced life and play around for a bit. She hadn’t done that since before her mother died.

  She wandered through the house, waiting for her father and Peter to pick her up for their dinner-date at Miss Janelle’s Restaurant. She’d already decided to try and talk to Janelle, just to see if she was the shy woman that had written to the newspaper. Although Annette shouldn’t try to be a matchmaker, the temptation was just too hard to resist. Besides, she would probably never marry, so she might as well help those who were struggling, too.

  The sound of a buggy moving past her house toward the stable, had her hurrying to the dining room window. The full moon let her see that her father was home from work. Her hopes dropped. Peter wasn’t with him.

  She moved to the door and opened it just as her father walked up the steps of the porch. When he saw her, he nodded.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since you rushed to the porch to greet me when I came home from work?”

  She gave her father a hug and linked her arm with his as they walked into the house. “I suppose it has been a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He looked down at her baby-blue dress and then up to her hair which she’d curled and left long. “And you look very pretty tonight, too.”

  “Well, you didn’t expect I’d wear my nightdress when we went to our celebration dinner, did you?”

  He stopped and slapped his forehead. “Oh, dear. I’d forgotten about that.”

  She frowned. “Does that mean we’re not going? I thought Peter had set everything up.”

  “Yes, he did.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin. “But I’m just too darn tuckered out to go out tonight. I hope you’ll forgive me.” He caressed her cheek. “I know this is an important celebration for you—”

  “For us.”

  “For us.” He nodded. “But my feet hurt and my back aches. All I want to do is take a nice warm bath and jump in bed.”