She sneezed. Loudly.
“Bless you,” he said, waiting. Rosalin always sneezed three times in a row. You didn’t grow up with a girl since preschool and not know these things about her.
Twice more she sneezed, then she blew her nose, sounding a bit like one of the Muppets on the TV shows his niece, Tella, watched.
“I’m sorry, Angela. You can keep going.” Rosalin wiggled her brows at him and gave him that come-hither smile that accomplished exactly what it was meant to. He put his arm around her. She wiggled closer, and he leaned his head down.
“Oh. Sorry. I don’t want to get you sick.” She straightened and moved away.
He let her go without comment as Angela started droning on again. Funny, because he’d never really thought about it, but Rosalin had her own scent that was completely different than Rosie’s. He wouldn’t have thought a thing about it except, not that long ago, he’d been closer to Rosie than he’d ever been before, and just now, he’d caught a whiff of something under the normal Rosalin scent that smelled very similar.
Impossible.
Or maybe it was just twins, and he’d never noticed before.
“Hey, beautiful.” Boone, Angela’s boyfriend if Cord had to guess, walked in, a little girl in one arm and another holding his hand.
“You two ladies picked up quite a handsome man in your travels,” Angela said in return, her face glowing like it hadn’t when she’d been talking about cakes.
“Cord,” Boone said.
Cord nodded.
“Twin,” Boone said to Rosalin. Everyone did that. It was hard to tell them apart. Cord had been in the same classes with them all through school, and he still had trouble sometimes.
Rosalin gave Boone her typical flirty smile, which Boone didn’t see because his attention was back on Angela. He bent, kissing her temple. Angela’s cheeks turned pink.
Cord kind of wished Rosalin didn’t flirt with every man she came in contact with, but at least she’d toned it down some tonight. Probably since she was now an engaged woman, she’d decided to save those flirty smiles for him.
“Thanks,” he whispered, leaning forward into her ear.
Her brows were up when she turned to him. “For what?” she whispered back.
He tried not to let his face fall. How did a guy say, I like it when you don’t flirt with other guys? Especially since she must not have done it on purpose. Maybe her cold was affecting her normal personality.
“Did you text Rosie and tell her I’ll drive you back to the airport?”
“No.” She looked over at Boone and Angela who were talking low. “I need to spend some time with my sister. After our marriage, you get me all to yourself. I don’t want her to feel left out.”
“But she picked you up.”
“True.” Rosalin nodded. “When we’re married, you can do it all.”
That wasn’t the answer he wanted, but Angela started speaking about cakes again before he could get the words out.
It seemed to take forever, but eventually Rosalin settled on a red, heart-shaped cake with pink iced hearts on top. “Since it’s so close to Valentine’s Day.”
They were getting married on leap day—Rosalin’s idea. Not that it made a difference. If he’d had to choose which cake she was going to pick, it wouldn’t have been that one. She wasn’t romantic. Which was one of the reasons he liked her so much.
They’d settled on leap day as their wedding day so they wouldn’t have to remember their anniversary every year. Just once every four years. He thought he could handle that. But it wasn’t the mark of a romantic.
Rosie, on the other hand, yeah, she’d pick out a cake shaped like a heart and have a dreamy look about Valentine’s Day.
Maybe the cold was affecting Rosalin more than he thought.
He hadn’t had time before their cake appointment to confess about the kiss. So, as soon as they stepped out of the boardinghouse where Angela lived, he said, “I need to talk to you.”
Rosalin sneezed. Three times. Blew her nose again, and added a cough. “Okay. Can we eat? I’m starving.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. That sounded like something Rosie would say. Rosalin thought the diner in Sweet Water was a dinky little joint that should only be entered in times of great famine. In other words, never.
“Sure.” He was hungry too.
They walked down the sidewalk. “So, um, Rosie told you about what happened after the festival?”
Rosalin flipped her hair over her shoulder. He didn’t try to take her hand, since she’d said it made her feel smothered when he did. “Yep, she did. And I just felt so bad for her. I’m so glad you were able to comfort her.”
Hmm. Did Rosie present that kiss as “comfort?”
He stopped, his hand on her arm. “I kissed her.”
She turned wide eyes to him. Her look at that moment reminded him so strongly of Rosie that he almost said the wrong name.
They stared at each other for what felt like a long time.
Finally, Rosalin’s eyelids fluttered, and her face went from looking like Rosie back to being Rosalin.
Which made Cord wonder if there was more to Rosalin than he gave her credit for. Rosalin was easy. Not too deep. Not too emotional. Easy on the eyes and knowledgeable. Everything he thought he wanted in a wife. Someone he wouldn’t have to coddle out on the farm. She could entertain and take care of herself. She wouldn’t need him to baby her.
But...
“I know. She’s my twin. That’s the first thing she told me.” Rosalin giggled. “She said you were a good kisser, too.”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
Her hand waved in the air, her bracelets jangling on her wrist below her coat sleeve. “I know. You two were both scared and worried, and these things happen. Plus, if you’re going to kiss another woman, it might as well be my twin, right?” Her laugh filled the air again. “Except you don’t have a twin, so I guess I’ll have to kiss Max.”
Somehow, he wasn’t nearly as worried about Rosalin with Max as he was about Rosie with Max. He wasn’t sure what that said about him.
Not to mention he wouldn’t have minded seeing a little jealousy. A little possessiveness. He didn’t exactly want his wife to not give a flip if he kissed another woman, even if that woman was her twin sister.
“Come on. I’m hungry.”
She grabbed his arm, dropping it when he fell in beside her and walked the last few yards to Patty’s Diner.
He opened the door, and she swept through.
“Grab the booth in the corner,” he said. It was the most private, and it was empty.
Normally, Rosalin took care to do the opposite of anything he commanded her to do, so he was a little surprised when she turned toward the booth he’d asked for, just like Rosie would have done.
He didn’t want a woman who did whatever he wanted. He liked his woman with a little fight in her. Didn’t he?
“Hey, Rosie. Cord.” His brother Clay turned from paying at the cash register and shoved his wallet back in his pocket.
“It’s Rosalin, Clay,” he said. That was weird. Usually Clay could tell them apart pretty easily.
Clay’s brows twitched. He looked at Rosalin, like he was searching her eyes. Cord assumed he was trying to find whatever it was that always enabled him to tell the difference.
Clay opened his mouth, but Rosalin spoke first. “Hi, Clay.”
Clay’s mouth snapped shut.
Cord looked between the two of them. It seemed like there was some byplay going on, which was odd, since Clay and Rosie got along great, but Clay pretty much avoided Rosalin, while she loved making him uncomfortable by flirting with him, often coming pretty close to what polite company might deem unacceptable.
“Rosalin,” Clay finally said. His eyes went back to Cord. “This isn’t where you usually take her to eat.”
“She suggested it.”
“I have to leave for the airport in an hour, so it was Patty’s or nothin
g today.” Rosalin seemed to be trying to say more to Clay.
Clay nodded, like maybe he understood, then he lifted a hand. “Have a good night.” He walked over to the table where his wife and daughter sat. Cord waved at them before following Rosalin to the booth and sliding in across from her.
“Thanks for not making him uncomfortable,” he said, meaning that she hadn’t flirted with his brother and he appreciated it.
“Yeah. No problem.” Rosalin’s head was down, staring at the placemat menu like it might have changed in the last twenty years. It hadn’t.
She sneezed three times.
“Bless you.”
“Thanks.”
“Are we still on for our date next Friday?”
“Yes. If I’m feeling better.”
“I’m sorry it’s going to be so much traveling for you.” But she was the one who had made the cake appointment for tonight.
“Not a problem. I can work at the airport and rest on the plane.”
He felt like they weren’t talking about anything important. Things he wanted to talk about, like how soon she was moving back. Originally, she’d told him she’d be back by October. But that had turned into New Year’s which was now the end of January.
But he didn’t want their hour together to be a fight, either. So he closed his mouth around all the things that needed to be said and asked her about Chicago.
ROSIE HAD NO IDEA IF the things she was spouting about Chicago were true or not. Thankfully, she’d just finished a romantic suspense series that had been set in the Windy City, so she at least seemed to sound like she knew what she was talking about.
The hour dragged slowly by. She’d rather be anywhere else, with anyone else, even Max. Anywhere other than sitting here, lying to Cord.
She hated it.
What she really wanted to do was wring her twin’s neck.
Even the thought made her fingers curl.
Thankfully, after the time dragged on and on, Cord finally paid and they were leaving the diner. Now she just had to ramp up the cold to avoid the kiss, then she could figure out what in the world she was going to do next Friday when they had a real date.
Geez.
Thankfully, the library was only a couple blocks down from Patty’s, and they were standing in front of the converted garage in just a few minutes.
“Well, thanks so much for dinner.”
“Wasn’t much. Not compared to Chicago standards. But you’re welcome.”
She sneezed. Six times. Just to be sure there would be no kissing.
“Bless you.”
“Thanks. Hopefully it gets better.”
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to Friday.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Oh, she said that with a straight face. If she was pretending she was someone else, did it count as lying? She had a feeling it did. The thought didn’t sit well. “I’ll see you Friday.” She gave a little wave.
But before she could turn and walk in, Cord spoke.
“You mind if I come in? I haven’t talked to Rosie since the festival, and I’d just like to see for myself that she’s okay.”
Her lips made a perfect “O.” She couldn’t form them into anything else. Her head tilted one way, then the other. Her heart flipped like pages in the breeze.
“I’m sorry,” he said, smiling a little at her fish out of water look. “That wasn’t a trick question. Your twin sister? Rosie? I’d like to see her.”
“Yes,” Rosie said slowly. “Of course. I’m sure Rosie would love to see you, too. Just for a minute though, because we have to get going to the airport.”
“I know. My fiancée is flying back to Chicago. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Right. Of course, you haven’t.” She tweaked his nose, hopefully something Rosalin would do. Although she, Rosie, would never dream of doing such a thing. “Come on in. I’ll go get Rosie.”
What was she going to do? Make up a lie about where Rosie was? She couldn’t be both of them.
“You don’t have to get her. I can just walk into her apartment too,” he said as he stepped inside the library. There was a back door to Rosie’s apartment, but she seldom used it, choosing instead to walk in and out through the small library.
“Well,” Rosie said, “Rosie likes to read in the evening...in her bathtub. Yes. In the water in her bathtub. With no clothes on.” Man, she sounded like an idiot. Rosalin didn’t sound this bad on her worst day. “So, I’d better go first. Just to make sure.”
“If she’s taking you to the airport, she’s probably not going to be naked in the bathtub.”
“You know Rosie. Sometimes time gets away from her.”
That, at least, was true.
She gave Cord a smile that felt really fake and forced and slipped into her apartment, closing the door behind her.
Grabbing her bathrobe, she ran into the bathroom. She got her clothes off fast enough but spent some time with her entire head under the running bathwater, wetting her hair, so it would truly look like she had been in the tub, and also scrubbing her face to get the makeup off.
She had her hair wrapped up in the towel and her bathrobe cinched tightly around her and she walked to the door into the library. Maybe if she hadn’t just spent the entire evening with him, she’d be a little more embarrassed about their kiss. As it was, she had to keep reminding herself that she was Rosalin, and even though they were engaged, Rosalin didn’t give men calf eyes or stare at their lips.
Like Rosie wanted to do to Cord.
But she’d made an easy decision tonight, too. If she had to go out on a date with Cord on Friday, she’d be kissing him at the end of it. But she was never going to do it again, and she would make sure her sister knew it.
She cracked the door an inch and put her nose in the crack. “Hey, Cord.”
“Rosie? Are you okay?”
“Yep. I’m fine.”
“I’d thought maybe being out in the cold like you were...”
“Nope. Actually, Rosalin is the one that’s sick. You know me. Healthy as your horses. Speaking of, did you get them loaded and home?”
“Yeah.”
“It didn’t hurt them to stand in the cold?”
“I blanketed them before I went out.”
“Oh.” Of course.
“How was Joseph?”
“I just let him sleep on the reading couch. I fed him breakfast in the morning and made sure he got to school.”
“Great. Okay. I guess you need to get dressed before you can take Rosalin to the airport.”
Right. Yeah. She did. “Yeah.”
“Well, tell her I said I’d see her Friday.”
“I’m sure she’s looking forward to it.” She was such a liar. And she hated that Cord was the one she was lying to. He would hate her if he knew.
The thought made her freeze. She wanted to blurt the whole truth out. But how could she? She was in too deep.
“All right. ’Night, Rosie.”
“’Night, Cord.” She watched as he turned and walked back through the library, wanting with all her heart to call after him. But there wasn’t anything for her to say. So she watched until he went through the door and closed it behind him, her heart a dead weight in her chest. She couldn’t help but feel that she was setting someone up for a terrible heartache.
Chapter 6
THE NEXT MONDAY, CORD forked hay into Sadie’s stall. His dog, a mutt he’d named Cracker, lay off to the side, out of the way.
Often on these cold, dark mornings, Cord talked to his horses or his dog or both. But not today.
He hadn’t been able to sleep last night, and he couldn’t really put his finger on why, exactly, but something nagged him about Rosalin.
Not that she’d done anything specifically wrong, but that he was suddenly having doubts about marrying her.
The letter he’d gotten lay inside his small house, safely tucked away in his desk. He hadn’t told anyone about it. Not anyone in his family, not Rosalin, and not even his best f
riend.
But that’s what had prompted him to make the decision to ask Rosalin to marry him. It hadn’t been because he’d suddenly fallen in love with her.
She wasn’t the kind of girl who wanted love, anyway. She’d be happier with money. But he hadn’t told her about the money.
Honestly, he hadn’t expected her to actually say yes when he’d asked her. But she’d surprised him. Then, he made his one demand. She had to live here. In North Dakota. He didn’t tell her it was to satisfy the requirements of his inheritance. He hadn’t needed to. She’d agreed without argument.
It surprised him, again, to be honest.
But they’d be perfect together.
Or so he had thought. But he was finding that Rosalin as a friend and Rosalin as a girlfriend were two different things. Maybe he was a little more romantic than he thought he was. Or maybe he was a little more attached to Rosie than he’d realized.
Regardless, he’d found himself thinking of her innocent kiss a lot more fondly, and often, than he’d been thinking about Rosalin. In fact, tonight, he hadn’t even really cared that he hadn’t kissed her. But Rosie, standing at the door, fresh-faced with her hair wrapped in a towel...it shouldn’t even make him pause, but that was the image he couldn’t get out of his head last night. He just wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Was it cold feet? Pre-wedding jitters? Something completely normal?
If his dad hadn’t died when he was a young boy, would he be able to talk to him about this?
Maybe. “What do you think, Cracker? Men probably don’t talk about stuff like this, even with their dads.”
“Who you talking to?”
Cord almost jumped at the voice. He recognized it almost immediately. “What are you doing way out here?” He peered in the darkness by the barn door, looking for Joseph’s small figure.
“Hitched a ride with the milk truck.” His skinny body didn’t look big enough for his deepening voice, and the ragged backpack slung over his shoulder made him look lopsided.
“Doesn’t the driver know you have school?”
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