The Husband Hunt (Smoky Mountain Matches) (12 page)

His dark gaze roaming down the length of her felt like a caress. “How does it feel? Being all gussied up?”

Suppressing a shiver of want, she pressed a hand to the exposed flesh at the base of her neck. “Strange. Stiff. However, unlike the dress Kate lent me for the funeral, this one fits me like a glove. Nicole knows what she’s doing. I daresay I’ll get used to dressing like this eventually.”

“So no more braids?”

She smiled at the teasing hint in his husky voice. “Did I mention she came after me with scissors?”

His arms fell to his sides. “She
cut
your hair?”

Sophie smoothed a light hand over the side-sweep. Of all the changes his cousin had wrought, she liked her hair the best. The moment she’d spied her image in the looking glass, she’d been transported back in time to when her ma had still been alive. With her hair arranged like this, she resembled her.

“She whacked a good six inches off. I don’t mind, though.” She shrugged. “It’s easier to take care of.”

“Six inches,” he repeated, frowning.

Why was he acting as if it was a crime? As if her personal decisions affected him?

“You’ll be happy to know I took your advice.” She forced a brightness into her attitude she didn’t feel. Sidestepping him, she moved to the stall where his horse, Chance, stood observing them with soft brown eyes.

“Oh, yeah? What advice is that?”

She stroked her fingers along his powerful neck, addressing the animal instead of the man. “I accepted an invitation from Frank Walters. He’s taking Will and me on a picnic tomorrow afternoon.”

Silence.

Sophie twisted around, wincing as her skirts caught on the wooden slats near her feet. She was going to have to be more careful. More aware of her movements if she didn’t want to destroy Nicole’s handiwork. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Heaving a sigh, he kneaded his neck with impatient fingers. “I’m not so sure you should’ve listened to me. Frank’s a good man, but he’s a bit passive for the likes of you.”

“Are you insinuating I’m pushy?” She bristled. She wouldn’t mention the outing hadn’t been Frank’s idea. When they had happened upon him outside the church that morning, Nicole had cunningly maneuvered him into it.

“You’re a woman who knows her own mind.” He joined her at the stall, his arm brushing her shoulder. His body heat radiated outward, tugging at her. He was too handsome for words; his generous mouth wielding tempting memories. His gaze probed hers. “What you need, Soph, is a strong man. A partner, not a pushover.”

Are you volunteering?
she almost blurted. Sliding her gaze away, she murmured, “I don’t have time to be choosy.”

“I don’t like this.”

“And you think I do?” she challenged.

“Can a man like Frank truly make you happy?”

No. No one except you will ever do.

She buried her fingers in Chance’s black mane. “If it weren’t for Cordelia’s meddling, I wouldn’t be contemplating marriage at all. I hate being forced into this, but I’ll do anything to keep Will with me. That will have to be enough.”

“I hope for both your sakes that it is.”

* * *

Frank Walters was a nice guy. Shy, but nice.

A year older than Nathan, he was six years her senior. And while they’d grown up in the same small town, they hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words. Sharing a meal with him was proving to be an awkward experience.

“This pie is delicious,” she told him between bites.

“My mother is an accomplished cook,” he said soberly. “I sampled your rhubarb pie before April discarded it. Mother would be happy to teach you how—” He broke off abruptly, looking pained. “I didn’t mean... That is, if you wanted her to.”

She set her empty plate beside the picnic basket. “That might be nice.” Inwardly, she grimaced. Bonnie Walters wore a perpetual expression of disdain. Nothing seemed to please her. Poor Frank. Perhaps he was searching for a reason to leave the home he shared with her?

Perspiration dampened the hair at her temples. The overhead shade did little to dispel the stifling August heat. Sophie adjusted her full peach skirt to make sure it covered her ankles, still finding it awkward to move and sit like a lady. When Frank had arrived at the cabin, he’d complimented her, saying the pastel hue made her skin luminous. Then his face had burned scarlet. Poor Frank.

He wasn’t one of those men who stood out in a crowd. Of average height, he had a pleasant face and wiry build, brown hair that tended to curl if he went too long between haircuts and warm brown eyes. He dressed like every other farmer in Gatlinburg, his clothes neat and pressed.

So he’s a decent guy. What will it be like to live with him? To prepare his meals and mend his clothes? To have children with him?

Sophie sucked in a sharp breath. For the first time since she hit upon the marriage idea, it hit her full-force what she was getting herself into. She looked at Frank.
Really
looked at him. At his mouth that would kiss hers, his hands that would hold hers. As his wife, she’d be expected to show him affection.

Sweat beaded her upper lip. The buttermilk pie churned in her stomach. She squeezed her eyes tight and focused on pulling grass-scented air into her nostrils.

Impulsive. Irrational. As usual, she’d seized on the solution to her problem without thinking it through. She’d been desperate for one. No doubt if Nathan had suggested joining the traveling circus, she would’ve packed their bags and hit the trail.

I can’t do this—

“Watch out!”

A ball bounced precariously close to their log cabin–patterned quilt and the food and drinks spread out across it. Will, face streaked with sweat and grass stains on his pant knees, darted over. “Sorry about that.”

Frank retrieved the ball from where it had rolled to a stop and tossed it to her brother. “No problem.”

As Will returned to the clover-dusted field rolling into the distance, Sophie reminded herself why she was here.
You
can
do this. You have to. For Will’s sake.

First order of business? Get to know him.

“So, Frank, what do you like to do in your spare time?”

“Not much of that, as you know.” He frowned, running his thumbs along his suspenders. “The farm takes up most of my time and energy.”

“Yes, but surely there’re moments when you’re not working,” she persisted. “What do you do then?”

He thought for a moment. “Normally at the end of the day, I read the newspaper while Mother knits.”

Sounded...boring. Or restful, depending on which way you looked at it.
Look for the positive, Soph.

“Do you like music?”

At the barn dances held throughout the community during spring and summer months, Frank mingled with the older men. He didn’t dance. Sophie didn’t, either, and not because she didn’t enjoy music. She did. But instead of risking being abandoned on the sidelines—who’d want to dance with the resident tomboy, anyway?—she insisted she was too self-conscious to dance.

“I learned how to play the banjo as a boy, but Mother doesn’t like noise.”

Irritation swelled at Bonnie Walters’s selfishness. It was Frank’s house, too. “Couldn’t you practice in the barn?” She smiled her encouragement. “I’m sure the animals wouldn’t mind.”

Frank looked at her in surprise. “The thought hadn’t occurred to me.” He scratched his head. “I suppose I could do that. My pa was the one who taught me. He was a fine banjo player.” The note of wistfulness in his voice touched a chord deep inside.

He must miss his pa like she missed her ma and granddad.

Roy Walters died many years ago when they were still kids. From what she remembered, he’d been as jolly as his wife was taciturn. Poor Frank. Was there any lightheartedness, any fun, in his life anymore? Or had Bonnie snuffed it all out?

“I have an idea. Why don’t you come over for supper one night this week and bring your banjo? You can play for us.”

His brows shot up. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, of course.” His barely suppressed excitement softened her heart to the consistency of warm molasses. Such a simple thing, this request, and yet it brought him to life like never before. “Please say you’ll come.”

A rare smile brightened his features. “I’d like that very much. Thank you, Sophie.”

Suddenly unable to speak, she nodded her reply. The way he was looking at her, as if she personally had a hand in hanging the moon and stars...well, no one had ever looked at her like that before. And it felt...wonderful.

If only Nathan—

No. Sophie resolutely shoved thoughts of him aside. She was going to have to come to terms with the fact that Nathan wouldn’t be playing a starring role in her life. Someone else would fill that role. Someone like Frank Walters.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he following morning Sophie was on her hands and knees in the dirt, tugging weeds from between her pepper plants, when Philip Dennison rode onto her property. Strange. While she considered him a friend, he didn’t make a habit of coming ’round.

Standing, she dislodged the dirt from her pants and, wiping the sweat from her brow, strolled to the end of the row. When the red-haired young man dismounted, he tucked his thumbs in his waistband and openly inspected the cabin and surrounding land.

“Mornin’, Philip. Want to come inside for some lemonade?”

Finally his gaze got around to her. “No, thanks. I just came by to ask if you and Will wanna have lunch at our place on Sunday.”

This was a first. Philip’s parents didn’t approve of her. They assumed she took after her pa. That she’d inherited his wild streak and one day she’d inevitably follow in his footsteps. “Uh, sure, I suppose we could do that.”

“Great.” His hazel eyes took in her appearance, and his lips compressed. “You’re planning on wearing a dress, right? I mean, you aren’t going to go back to dressing like a boy, are you?”

“I plan on wearing dresses to church—” she jutted her chin “—but that doesn’t mean I’m going to get all fancied up just to dig in the dirt.”

His face reddened, masking the smattering of freckles on his fair skin. “Don’t get mad, Sophie. You know my ma. The only reason she asked was because she thinks you’ve turned over a new leaf.”

“So this was her idea, not yours?”

“Actually, it was Pa’s.” Twisting his upper body, he again surveyed the outbuildings and fields. “You’ve done a remarkable job keeping up the farm.”

Sophie gritted her teeth as annoyance flared. She was beginning to put two and two together and she didn’t like the emerging picture. Still, she’d already accepted.

“Thanks.” Jerking a thumb over her shoulder, she said, “I guess I should get back to work. Lots to do.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Tugging on the brim of his hat, he mounted up and waved. “See ya Sunday.”

She stood at the edge of her small vegetable garden and watched him ride away, a disturbing thought weaving through her mind. Now that Tobias was gone, how many farmers viewed her land as up for grabs? And how many of them were willing to use her to get it?

“What’s got you so distracted you didn’t hear me coming?”

At the deep rumble of Nathan’s voice near her ear, she yelped. Spun around, a hand to her chest. “You frightened me!”

“Sorry.” He kicked up a shoulder, one brow quirked. “What were you thinking about?”

“Philip Dennison stopped by to invite me to Sunday lunch.”

The good humor in his eyes evaporated like mist. His expression closed, shutting her out. “Is that so? I guess Nicole worked her magic, huh?”

She jammed her hands on her hips, disguising her hurt with anger. “Why is it so difficult for you to believe a man might be interested in me?”

His mask slipped, exposing sincere contrition. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Burying his fingers in his choppy hair, he took out his frustration on a stick, kicking it away with his boot. “I wish we could go back to how things used to be. Before this crazy husband-catching scheme.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, you know,” she snapped. “Perhaps you should take up your objections with Cordelia.”

The pounding hooves of an approaching rider deepened his scowl. “What is
he
doing here?”

Pivoting, Sophie recognized the horse first. “Why is Landon paying me a visit?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Nathan positioned himself in front of her as if to intercept her visitor. What was with him? There weren’t too many people in this town he couldn’t tolerate, so what had Landon done to get himself on that short list?

Moving to stand beside him, she nudged his shoulder. His sharp-edged gaze slid to her.

“You don’t really think I need protection from him, do you?”

“He’s not for you, Soph,” he said cryptically.

“Why—” But she was interrupted by Landon’s cheerful greeting as his boots hit the ground.

“Sweet Sophie. How are you this fine day?” His grin was known to have a devastating effect on the general female population of Gatlinburg. And, she had to admit, the man was a looker. Blond hair, blue eyes, golden skin. Tall and strong as an ox. Charm oozing from his pores.

His gaze, when it flicked to Nathan, didn’t alter one way or another. If anything, his grin grew wider. “O’Malley.”

“What do you want, Greene?”

Landon’s brows lifted. “I came to speak with Sophie, if that’s all right with you,” he drawled.

Sophie studied the two men. Nathan’s dislike radiated off him in waves. Landon, on the other hand, attempted to conceal his. It was there beneath the surface, though.

“What can I do for you?” Reaching for the end of her braid out of habit, her fingers instead met the loose strands of her ponytail.

He tipped the brim of his caramel-colored hat up. “I came to ask if you’d accompany me to the singing this Saturday night.”

Nathan’s sharp inhale told her exactly what he thought of the invitation. He didn’t want her to accept. Except, Landon was on her list. He was an upstanding member of the town, came from a good family who, unlike the Dennisons, treated her with respect. He wasn’t known to indulge in alcohol. He was a faithful church attender. And even if he did possess a flirtatious nature, she couldn’t afford to say no.

“I’d like that.”

His eyes lit up. With triumph? Rubbing his hands together, he nodded. “That’s great.”

“She can’t go with you.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. Anger licked along her veins. Swiping her ponytail behind her shoulder, she demanded, “Nathan, what—”

“Have you forgotten you agreed to go with me?” he challenged, his expression warning her to play along.

Of all the high-handed— “Yes, I believe I have. I’m racking my brain, and I simply can’t remember you asking me.”

Landon spoke up, intruding on their silent battle of wills. “That’s a shame. I’d hoped to walk in with you on my arm and make all the other guys jealous.”

That diverted her attention. She stared at him, absolutely certain no man had ever entertained a similar notion about her before.

“Since you’ve disappointed my hopes,” he went on in light recrimination, “will you agree to go on a horseback ride with me Sunday afternoon?”

“Yes,” she rushed to say before Nathan claimed to have plans with her then, too. “I’m having lunch with the Dennisons, but I’m sure that won’t take long. How about we say two o’clock?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

An inexplicable gleam in the blue depths niggled at her, but she attributed it to her imagination. Landon Greene may be a bit of a rogue, but he was in no way dangerous.

When he’d left, she rounded on Nathan. “How dare you interfere!” She threw up her hands. “Have you forgotten that if I don’t find a husband, my aunt is going to take Will away from me?” She’d already lost her beloved granddad. She couldn’t lose her brother, too. Fear bubbling over, she shoved him, surprise forcing him back a step. “I don’t have time for games.”

Seizing her hands, he held them flush against his chest, ducking his head down so they were on eye level. Secrets swirled in the silver depths. “This isn’t a game. You need to steer clear of him.”

Being this close to him, his touch warm and sure, transported Sophie back to the party and the earth-shaking kiss. A kiss he wouldn’t be repeating. She steeled herself against the yearnings coursing through her.

“Again the dire warning without explanation? I’m just supposed to trust you, is that it?”

His gaze slipped to her mouth. Snapped back up. “Yes.”

“That’s funny, because I seriously doubt you’d take my word about anything. You’d demand to know my reasons.”

A muscle jerked in his rigid jaw. “You’re right, I would. But in this situation, I can’t go into details.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

He released her then, and she fought a sense of abandonment.

Putting space between them, he rested his hands on lean hips, squinting in the bright sunlight. “You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to. Just don’t go with him. And please, cancel that ride.”

“I’m not going with you on principle.” Oh, how it hurt to refuse such an opportunity.
Better a little hurt now than a heaping helping later.

“Who will you go with then?”

“Who says I have to have an escort? Men will be more apt to approach me if I’m alone, anyway.”

“Right.” Frowning, he tugged his hat down, casting his features in shadow. “I’ve got to go.”

Not knowing what to say, Sophie watched him leave. It wasn’t until he’d disappeared into the forest that she realized she didn’t know why he’d come in the first place.

* * *

Ascending the stairs of the grand Victorian home Saturday evening, Sophie felt her heart quiver like a frightened rabbit’s. She would rather be anywhere else but here, alone and dressed to impress, where everyone would watch and know her purpose. Thanks to her aunt’s slip, the news of her quest would be buzzing around town.

In the entryway, she peeked in the oval mirror above the slim mahogany table and smoothed an errant strand to the side. Still wasn’t easy to achieve this hairstyle, but she was getting the hang of it.

Guests milled around in the green-and-blue parlor on her left. The program was set to begin in an hour. Sixty minutes to scope out the place, and perhaps engage an eligible gentleman in conversation. She stuck out her tongue at her reflection. Had she really been reduced to this? A desperate female on the prowl?

Navigating the wallpapered hallways to the spacious dining room, she offered a harried-looking Madge Calhoun her assistance.

The plump, gray-headed lady waved her off. “No, child. Help yourself to a glass of ginger water and a cake. Enjoy yourself.”

Choosing a pink-tinted glass, she wandered over to the wall of windows and soaked in the beauty of the flower gardens.

“Sweet Sophie.” Landon appeared out of nowhere, his footsteps masked by the plush rugs. “You are especially lovely tonight.” His blue eyes, warm with appreciation, scanned her outfit.

Sipping the tangy liquid, she returned his smile. “Thank you. So are you.” She touched the yellow daisy tucked in his button hole. “That’s a nice look.”

Waggling his eyebrows, he leaned forward conspiratorially. “Makes me appear more sensitive in the ladies’ eyes. Romantic.”

“Ah.” Well, at least he was honest.

Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Where is your escort?”

Her smile faltered. “Nathan and I— That is, I told him I would rather come alone.”

A peculiar gleam lit his eyes. “That’s good news.” Cocking his head, he held his arm aloft. “Would you care to accompany me to the gardens?”

It wasn’t the best idea. While he was charming and handsome, something about the man set her on edge.

“I don’t know—”

At the edge of her vision, she caught movement. Nathan stepped across the threshold, irresistible in a gray-and-white pin-striped shirt and black trousers, rich brown hair shiny in the candlelight. Tan and fit and lean.

But what was he doing here? He didn’t attend these functions any more than she did. At least she had a reason. What was his?

Beside her, Landon stiffened. Nathan’s slow survey of the room’s occupants eventually jarred to a halt with them. Shock followed quickly by annoyance showed on his face. His lips pursed. He was going to come over here. Of course he was.

Feeling weak and susceptible where he was concerned, Sophie seized Landon’s hand. “On second thought, I think a stroll is exactly what I need right now.”

Surprise flashed. “As you wish, my lady.” His satisfied near-sneer didn’t bother her as much as it should have.

Hustling her out the door, Landon guided her down the back porch steps and along the winding stone path. Before long, they were deep in the lush gardens, hidden from view of the yellow two-story. Disconcerted and breathless from their hasty retreat, Sophie inhaled the fragrant, slightly sweet scent emitted by the rainbow of pastel blooms. The water fountain trickled in the distance.

That was a close call. Nathan had stayed away for days; an unwelcome reprieve albeit a necessary one. When he’d held her captive the other day, her hands imprisoned against him, his dear face hovering near, she’d been tempted to throw caution to the wind and kiss him, her irritation a minor thing compared to her need for him. The man of her heart.

Sinking onto a wide stone bench beneath a rose arbor, she arranged her skirts and clasped her hands in her lap. The setting sun warmed her skin as she observed two black-and-orange butterflies flitting above the blossoms.

You have to move past this, Sophie.

Her companion sat beside her, his thigh brushing hers; a bit too close for comfort. But there wasn’t room on the bench to scoot away. Nathan’s insinuations came to the forefront of her mind.

“That night you lost the shadow game, what exactly did you and April do out here?”

He tilted his head back and laughed heartily, the strong column of his throat a golden brown above his black suit coat. His blond hair, so light a color it was difficult to describe, glowed in the waning light. He smelled clean and soapy.

Setting an arm around her shoulders, he said, “Such candor! You are a refreshing female, Sophie Tanner.” When he leaned in close as if to kiss her, she pushed hard on his chest and jumped up.

“I asked you to tell me what you did, not show me!”

Tugging on his sleeves, his mouth tightened in displeasure for a fraction of a second, so fast she wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all. When he lifted his head, he once again wore a relaxed, unaffected grin. “No need to get riled, sweet Sophie. It was an innocent mistake.”

“You and I aren’t courting. I don’t know about you, but I don’t give affection freely.”

He unfolded his tall frame. Approached. Quirked an insolent brow. “You kissed Nathan.”

She stiffened, unhappy with the reminder. “That was a game.” Studying him, she said, “Why don’t you and Nathan like each other?”

“That’s not an interesting topic. You, on the other hand, intrigue me.” He crowded her, touched a finger to her earbob. “Pretty.”