The Texan's Engagement Agreement. Noelle Marchand
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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