Romancing The Runaway Bride. Karen Kirst
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Why can’t you learn to hold your tongue, young lady? No one cares to hear your opinion.
Humiliation zipped along her nerve endings. She’d not only embarrassed herself, but Adam, as well.
Her gaze on the gleaming floor, she mumbled, “Please excuse me. I’m in need of fresh air.”
Intent on escape, she ignored Adam’s soft bid for her to wait.
“Tea with a splash of milk.” A delicate china cup entered her line of vision, and the tantalizing aroma of Earl Grey tea teased her nose. “And we can’t forget dessert. Mark my word, you’ll be impressed. The two I had were equally satisfying.”
Shifting on the wrought-iron chair, she reluctantly met Adam’s gaze. He’d followed her to this isolated corner of the Gardners’ veranda. The shade bathed them in cool relief. Beyond the railing and roofline, a profusion of tall trees absorbed the unrelenting sun. It was a pleasing vista of varying shades of green and vivid blue, broken by patches of purplish blue wildflowers.
Adam smiled in a gentle, coaxing way, and his dark eyes were kind. She accepted the tea. “Two? Did you sneak another one without telling me?”
He set the dessert plate on the oval side table beside her. Sinking into the chair opposite, he stretched his legs out and hooked one ankle over the other. He adopted an innocent expression. “In Aunt Mae’s kitchen. I couldn’t help myself.”
She took a grateful sip of the fragrant brew. “That’s it. You’re fired.”
“You’re firing me?”
“Why not? I fired myself from being your guide.”
Adam’s brows shot up. “Don’t tell me you’re reneging on our deal. You don’t strike me as a quitter.”
Little ripples marred the hot liquid’s surface as she blew on the tea. “You still want my help? I shouldn’t have reprimanded him for speaking his mind.”
Uncrossing his ankles, he leaned forward. “He could’ve been more subtle. You were upset on my account. You stood up for me and my plans.”
“You’re truly not angry?”
“I’m touched.”
“I confess to being very curious about you.”
He laughed off his initial surprise. “I’m not that interesting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me about your family. Are both your parents living?”
Sobering, he ran his fingers along the crease in his pant leg. “My mother is alive and well. My father is gone.”
Dangerous emotion swirled in his eyes and, for an instant, she felt the pure force of it directed at her. She blinked, and the moment was gone.
“I—I’m sorry about your father. I’m acquainted with the difficulty of losing a parent. Of course, having a sibling to share in your grief can be beneficial. Where are your brothers now?”
“I’ll be honest, Deborah. I’m a private man. I don’t make a habit of speaking about my family.”
“I see.” The birds’ song didn’t sound quite as cheerful as it had when she’d first sought solace in this out of the way spot.
Adam stood and moved closer. “It’s nothing to do with you,” he said softly.
Deborah plastered on a smile. “You don’t have to explain.”
His astute gaze roamed her features. “Take your time out here. I’m going to have a word with the reverend. Find me when you’re ready, all right?”
“All right.”
She watched him stride the length of the veranda and enter through the side door, then set down her teacup and went to stand at the railing. If there was one thing she’d like to change about herself, even more than her tendency to speak without discretion, it was her sensitive nature. Adam hadn’t been rude or condescending, even though they were recent acquaintances and she’d been poking her nose where it wasn’t welcome.
With a prayer for courage, she joined him in the Gardners’ parlor and resumed her duties. He remained pleasant, but there was a new reserve about him that puzzled her. His stated preference for privacy had only enflamed her curiosity, unfortunately. Why did he not like talking about his family? Had something tragic occurred? Was there a black sheep in the Draper family?
Deborah doubted these questions would ever be answered. He was here alone in Cowboy Creek, so there’d be no fishing for clues among his friends. Disappointed, not to mention confused by her interest in the enigmatic cattleman, she focused on guarding every single word leaving her mouth. To her relief, there were no more mishaps.
When the event had wound down and it was time to gather the soiled dishes, Sadie and Walter waved Adam away to mingle. As soon as he was out of earshot, Walter cornered her.
“What do you know about him?”
“Adam? Very little.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Big Bend, Missouri. Why do you ask?”
“I’m convinced our paths have crossed before, but I can’t pinpoint the particulars. My mind won’t rest until I determine whether or not I’m mistaken.” His brows drew together. “Do you know if he served in the war?”
“He did.”
Walter made a considering noise in his throat, then turned to address Sadie. “You know I dislike unsolved riddles. I will send for the photographs I took during those years.”
Sadie paused in stacking plates. “I’d be happy to help you look through them.”
“It will be a tedious process.”
Admiration brightened her eyes. “To you, maybe, but I’m eager to see more of your work. Besides, any time spent in your company is far from tedious.”
He flashed a rare smile and kissed her hand. “Have I told you lately how delightful I find you, my dear?”
Feeling as if she were intruding, Deborah left them, carrying empty platters through the kitchen and out to the wagon. While she was thrilled that Sadie had found happiness with the photographer, witnessing their devotion highlighted the fact that she was alone, far from home, separated from her sister and her few close friends.
She was returning to the house when something in the grass caught her eye. Moving closer for a better look, she realized it was a porcelain doll. She picked it up and brushed the dirt from its clothes and yellow curls. Judging from its decent condition, it hadn’t been exposed to