by Kirst, Karen
Again, she did as he suggested, nibbling on the round cake, seemingly a million miles away.
“Let’s review the facts. Surely if we think this through and look at all the angles, we’ll come up with a solution. Two heads are better than one, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Your aunt’s main concern is that Will isn’t getting the guidance she thinks he needs. How can we convince her otherwise?”
“Discipline. You forgot discipline.” Her eyes flashed defiantly.
“Okay. Guidance and discipline. Besides from a guardian, namely you, where would a ten-year-old boy get those things?”
“His schoolteacher?”
He nodded. “And the reverend.”
“We could ask them to speak with her.” She brightened, brushing crumbs from her lap. “They could assure her what a good kid he is.”
“Will that be enough?”
“There’s Mr. Moore, the mercantile owner. And your father.”
All good suggestions. Would their assurances sway Cordelia’s opinion?
“I think,” he said slowly, finger tracing the indentions in the wood, “that having a permanent male influence in his life would be the best way to reassure her that Will was receiving steady, hands-on supervision.”
He didn’t mind accepting the responsibility. He and Will already spent a lot of time together. Though it would mean a tighter schedule, he could fit in at least an hour a day with the boy. Or perhaps Will could spend afternoons at his place, helping out around the farm, learning from Nathan, a stand-in father figure.
The more he thought about it, the better it sounded. They’d both benefit. He relaxed against the chair back. At last, a solution.
* * *
“You’re brilliant!” Sophie suddenly exclaimed, an ecstatic smile chasing away her gloom like sunshine after a rainstorm.
His brows met over his nose. He hadn’t shared his conclusions with her. “I am?”
“Why did I ever doubt you?” Shoving upright, she bounded around the table and planted a kiss right on his cheek. “A husband is exactly what I need!”
“A what?”
She playfully batted his shoulder. “Don’t go acting all humble. You’re right, if I marry, she won’t have any objections to him staying with me. And even if she did pursue legal action, a judge would be far less likely to take Will away from two loving guardians. Oh, thank you, Nathan. I could kiss you right now!”
He absently rubbed his tingling cheek. “You already did.”
“Oh, right.” Soft pink color surged. She resumed her pacing, and he could practically see the wheels turning.
Her leap of logic left him reeling. Husband? For Sophie? That wasn’t what he’d meant at all. The thought of her as someone’s wife...well, he just couldn’t fathom it.
“Ah, Sophie—”
“I’m not exactly marriage material, though. The men around here see me as a pal. A buddy, not a potential wife.”
Sidetracked, bothered by this negative view of herself, he responded, “The only reason those men don’t have romantic inclinations toward you is because of the way you dress. If you were to fix yourself up and maybe wear a dress once in a while, I guarantee they’d have their eyes opened real fast.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “You really think so?” she murmured doubtfully.
He could’ve kicked himself. You’re supposed to be discouraging her from this ridiculous notion of marriage, not stoking the fire.
“I don’t own any dresses, but your cousin Nicole is an excellent seamstress. Maybe she would agree to make some for me in exchange for my services. I could do her chores for a week or maybe she likes sausages?”
“Sophie, wait. I didn’t mean—”
“I know!” She halted midstride. “We’ll make a list of eligible bachelors. A list of decent, upstanding men whom I wouldn’t mind marrying and who might not be averse to marrying me.” Scanning the kitchen, she said, “Now where did I stash my pen and paper?” She snapped her fingers. “Right. Upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
Nathan’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Nonplussed, he watched her disappear up the ladder. How could an innocent suggestion blow up in his face? His plan was so much easier. A mentor for Will. And yet here she was making a list—an actual list—of potential husbands.
Typical Sophie. Seize on an idea and run with it without giving it proper consideration. Woe to the unsuspecting males in this town!
When she sat across from him and began her list, he braced his forearms on the edge of the table and clasped his hands. “You misunderstood me.”
His quiet yet forceful words brought her head up, forehead bunched in confusion.
“I wasn’t suggesting you marry. I was actually thinking of taking Will under my wing. You know, spend more time with him here and at my place, teaching him things.”
“Oh.” Her lips puckered. “I thought... My mistake.” Her gaze bounced around the room before finally zeroing in on him once more. Her chin came up. “A husband is a good idea, though. Better than your idea. Spending an extra hour or two with Will isn’t going to be enough.”
“That may be so, but are you certain this is the right choice? This is a life-long commitment you’re talking about. Marriage isn’t something to be taken lightly.”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m an irrational child.” Hurt flashed in her eyes. “I realize the seriousness of the situation. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be considering hitching myself to some random man. But after Granddad... Let’s just say I’m willing to do almost anything to keep my family intact.”
“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. This is big, Soph. Huge. One of the most important decisions you’ll ever make.” He didn’t want to cause her pain, but he had to make her see reason. “You don’t want to end up like your ma, do you?”
She jerked as if slapped. “I will never end up like her. You want to know why?” Slamming her palm flat on the table, she leaned forward, sapphire eyes smoldering. “I’m not afraid to stick up for myself. And for my loved ones. I would never, ever, allow any man to treat me like my pa did her.”
Sighing, he nodded. “I believe you.” But will you be happy?
Frowning, not entirely satisfied, she returned to her list and began to tick off the candidates. A restless, unsettled feeling lodged in his chest. Every man she named was a man he knew, and it was strange to imagine Sophie with any one of them. He felt as if he was perched on the back of a bucking bull, moments away from being tossed to the ground and trampled.
“What about Tom Leighton?”
“My guess is he’s not ready,” he muttered. “He proposed to Megan last month, and she turned him down, remember?”
She didn’t look up. “Right.”
“I have to go.” He finished off his coffee, unwilling to help her with this wild scheme. While he may have inadvertently pointed her to this conclusion, he couldn’t sit there and assist in a husband hunt.
That got her attention. “Now?”
Scooting his chair back, he smashed his hat onto his head. “I have to get out to the cornfields.”
“Will you come back this afternoon? I’d feel better if you were here to help me explain this to Cordelia.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“I have a good feeling about this plan.” She smiled tentatively. “I know it isn’t exactly what you’d envisioned, but I’m confident it will work.”
Inexplicably cranky, he edged toward the door, eager for escape. “Right. I hope so.”
“I’ll be working on the list.” She waved a hand over the paper. “Hopefully, I’ll have it ready by the time you get back, and you can share your opinion on my choices.”
&nbs
p; “Fine. Bye.”
Seizing the reins, he practically vaulted into the saddle, startling Chance. “Sorry about that, boy,” he murmured, patting the horse’s flank. “Let’s get out of here before I lose my mind.”
* * *
Looking refreshed and elegant in an ice-blue outfit, Cordelia sat stiffly in a rocking chair, hands curled around a matching reticule in her lap. She glanced from Sophie to Nathan, seated together on the sofa opposite. “You’re getting married?” she repeated. “I hadn’t realized the two of you were courting.”
Nathan stiffened. The grave expression he’d arrived with darkened into something forbidding.
“You misunderstand, Mrs. Jackson. Sophie and I are friends. We don’t see each other in a romantic light.”
Hearing him voice his feelings in such a final, offhanded manner was like a dagger plunging deep into Sophie’s heart. He didn’t want her. Would never consider putting his name on her list.
When Cordelia’s penetrating gaze rested on Sophie, she schooled her features. No one could know her secret.
“Who, then, are you planning to marry, young lady?”
Nathan answered for her. “There are many single, eligible men in this town. Sophie is considering her options.”
Turning her head, Sophie studied his granitelike profile. Was that a hint of censure in his voice? His silver gaze flashed to hers and then away, but not before she glimpsed...what? Disappointment? In her?
“Let me get this straight.” The grooves in Cordelia’s forehead deepened. “You aren’t currently being courted by anyone. Instead, you’re compiling a list of men you’d like to marry?”
“A husband hunt,” Nathan muttered with a slight shake of his head.
Sophie attempted to rein in her irritation. Whose side was he on, anyway?
Resisting the urge to toy with her braid, she pressed her hands together and addressed her aunt with what she hoped was calm assurance. “Will and I belong together. Here, in our home. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. If that means I must find myself a husband, so be it.”
Admiration flickered, but was quickly squelched. “I admit I don’t know quite what to make of your scheme.” Rising gracefully, crisp skirts rustling against the coffee table, Cordelia crossed to the window and stared out at the sun-washed yard.
Gaudy blue feathers spilling from her hat shivered over her forehead. What was she thinking? Did this place hold any good memories for her? Granddad had told Sophie that her pa, Lester, had taken pleasure in tormenting his younger sister.
“I believe the right male influence would do you both good,” she said at last. Pivoting, she clasped her gloved hands at her waist. “However, the pool of potential husbands here must surely be limited to lonely, uneducated farmers or widowers with babies who want you for a substitute mother. In Knoxville, you can have your pick of men who would set you up in high style. Lawyers. Doctors. Business owners. With a good education, Will could go far in life. Why won’t you at least consider it?”
Cordelia’s frank curiosity, the absence of dictatorial attitude, caught her by surprise. For the first time since her aunt’s arrival twenty-four hours ago, Sophie thought beyond her current predicament and wondered what was driving the other woman. Why would she bother with them? Was it simply to exercise her authority or something else altogether?
Twisting slightly in her seat, she met her aunt’s steady appraisal. “I do appreciate your willingness to aid us, Aunt, but this is the only home we’ve ever known. We don’t need prestigious schools or clothes or well-to-do friends to make us happy. Simple pleasures are enough for us. This is the life we want.”
“I think you’re being stubborn,” she retorted, staring down her nose. “And foolish.”
“I’m being honest.”
Nathan unfolded his tall frame, his tanned hands curved at his sides and his turbulent gaze trained on her as he addressed her aunt. “Sophie doesn’t have a shallow bone in her body. She knows what’s truly important in life, things like family and friendship and a personal relationship with God. I’ve never met a more hardworking, tenderhearted person. Tobias was very proud of the young woman she’s become. I know because he told me shortly before he died.”
Sophie’s breath caught in her chest, her heart melting like butter in a frying pan at the unexpected praise. She closed her eyes to ward off tears. Oh, Granddad. I wish you were here. I wish I could hug you one more time. Tell you I love you.
Cordelia’s boots clicked against the floorboards.
Opening her eyes, Sophie saw the older woman motioning for Nathan to resume his seat. “Sit down, young man. There’s no need to get feisty.”
Her expression assessing, she studied them in a way that made Sophie uncomfortable. What was going on behind that eaglelike gaze?
When she had their attention once more, Cordelia said, “Have you given any thought to how long it will take to find a suitable husband? You should know I’m not willing to stay here indefinitely. We need a time limit. Three weeks should be plenty.”
“Three weeks?” Sophie gaped.
“That’s unreasonable.” Nathan ran a weary hand down his face.
“I’ll give you a month, no more. Though what I’m going to find to fill the time, I’ve no idea.” Cordelia hefted a sigh and rolled her eyes.
“One month.” She was expected to find a husband that quickly? Panic roiled through her stomach. What if none of the men on her list agreed to marry her?
“If you haven’t managed to snag a husband by then, Sophia Tanner, your brother will be returning to Knoxville with me. Do you understand?”
“Unfortunately, I understand quite clearly.”
She understood too well that she no longer had any control over her own life. A week ago, her biggest problems had been convincing Will to wear shoes outdoors and building a new henhouse. Now she was being forced to find a husband—not the husband she’d dared to let herself dream about but someone else altogether.
And while she could take another man’s name and pledge to honor him the rest of her life, how in the world was she going to convince her heart to stop loving Nathan?
Chapter Eleven
Nathan didn’t normally attend singles’ shindigs. Without parental supervision, the girls were bolder than usual—a situation that didn’t bother most guys in the slightest—and the games were silly. All too often the losers were expected to pay a forfeit. Something embarrassing such as reciting a poem or singing a solo. Not his style.
He wasn’t in the market for a wife, nor was he the type to enjoy a shallow flirtation, so why bother coming? He’d have more fun camped out on his front porch whittling or playing checkers with his pa.
And yet here he was, stationed beside the fireplace in his cousin Megan’s parlor sipping stout make-your-eyes-water lemonade and trying to avoid Amberly Catron’s flirtatious gaze.
The moment he’d stepped through the door, she’d rushed up and invited him to walk the gardens with her; an invitation he’d declined with as much finesse as he could muster. A romantic, moonlit stroll through isolated gardens with a girl who had obvious designs on him would not be in his best interest, he was certain.
He shifted his stance to glance at Sophie, taking perverse pleasure in the way her lips pursed after a sip of lemonade. It was only fair she suffer along with him. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
She leaned in close, bringing with her the fresh, appealing scent that put him in mind of spring meadows in full bloom. “I need your input on my list of choices because you know these men better than I do. I trust your judgment.”
Light from the chandelier candles above highlighted the golden streaks in her sleek blond hair. The memory of holding her in his arms resurfaced, reminding him of how wonderful it had felt to hold her. With her glorio
us hair framing her face, her delicate beauty had stunned him into speechlessness.
“After all—” her brow puckered “—I’ll have to live with the man for the rest of my life.”
Nathan tore his gaze from her to glare down at his boots. Forget what happened. She was in need of comfort and you gave her that. You’re here to help her choose a husband.
Firming his resolve, he observed the game participants with her list in mind. Seated in front of a white sheet suspended from the ceiling, a man attempted to guess the identity of each person’s shadow as they passed behind it. Landon Greene.
“Take Landon off the list.” A hefty dose of charm and wit hid what Nathan knew to be a bullying, mean-spirited heart.
Sophie’s curious gaze fell on the arrogant blond. “Why? He’s well-liked. Funny. And from all accounts, a hard worker. His family’s farm is productive and the animals are well cared for.”
Reluctant to go into details, he speared her with a look. “I thought you said you trusted me.”
Her brows lifted. “I do, but—”
“I’m here to help you, aren’t I? How about Frank Walters?” He indicated the short, nondescript man trying to blend into the wallpaper. Although reserved, he was an intelligent, prudent man. And Nathan was confident he would treat Sophie well. If he was expected to play a part in this mad scheme, he would make certain she chose wisely.
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know.”
“You put him on the list, didn’t you?”
Running a finger inside the collar of her forest-green shirt, she hedged, “Now that I think about it, I can’t really picture myself with him. He’s nice and all, but he’s not exactly the type to inspire romantic notions.”
Romantic notions? “Since when do you care about that?”
Sophie and romance didn’t belong in the same sentence. She wasn’t anything like his cousins, who fussed over their hair and clothes and sighed over popular romance heroes. His friend didn’t concern herself with such things.
She averted her face to set her unfinished lemonade on a side table. Slipping her hands into her pants’ pockets, she observed the room’s occupants.
