The Kissing Tree (20 page)

Dawson sat with Samantha on her front porch, waiting for Georgiana. She had known she’d be helping Samantha for most of the afternoon and had asked him to pick her up here for the social. He had arrived a little bit early, so he couldn’t fault Georgiana for making him wait. Besides, Samantha had come out to keep him company while he waited.

He glanced over at her for a moment.

She was pretty. Her hair wasn’t quite as blonde as Georgiana’s, but it boasted the softest hint of red, which gave it highlights and complemented the ivory color of her skin. Her eyes were a deep emerald green and matched her dress perfectly. He had always been partial to the color green.

Looking at her more intently, he thought,
She isn’t as stunningly beautiful as Georgiana, but nevertheless, I have to admit she is quite comely.
In fact, if he weren’t already in love, he had a feeling this woman could easily steal his heart.

Samantha looked over at him and smiled. By the way her cheeks turned red, he realized she had been mindful of his staring. He smiled back and quickly turned away.

“So are you enjoyin’ your stay?” she asked all of a sudden.

“You have a lovely little town. I find it quite refreshing,” he answered honestly.

“I’d have to agree with you because I am quite partial to it myself. I wouldn’t mind seein’ a big city one day, though. I don’t think I’ve ever been farther from this town than right there.” She pointed to the large outcropping of mountains not too far in the distance. “Is it exciting living in New York? I’ve always dreamt of going to the theater.”

“Well, if you’re ever out my way, I promise I’ll see that you get there.”

She smiled again, and he was genuinely glad to see it.

Georgiana had confided in him what her friend had gone through. He could only imagine what she had suffered.

“Maybe I should go and see if I can help Georgie with anything,” Samantha offered.

“No, I don’t mind waiting. I was early, after all,” he reassured her.

“Yes, I suppose you were . . . and we unfortunately finished up late,” she said, slightly embarrassed.

Standing up, he looked down at her.

“Why don’t you show me around your home? I thought I saw a pond out back when your little brother and I were trying to fly that kite.”

“All right.” She stood up, and he offered her his arm. “I’m afraid it’s not much of a pond, though,” she said, taking his arm and giving him an amused look as they began walking. “Father had it put in. It wasn’t here when the house was built.”

“Is it for decoration then?” he asked. “My mother had one put in last summer.”

“Not quite.” She laughed softly before continuing. It was a pleasant sound, Dawson noted. “When Father gave up farming and bought the bank, we moved to town. He told Mother the only thing he missed was ‘ye olde fishin’ pond,’ as he called it,” she said with an animated tone. “Banking takes almost as much time as farmin’, except of course, he has Sundays off.”

“Of course!” he repeated. “That’s the best part of the job!”

She smiled at his playful banter and then went on.

“Sadly, mother won’t let him fish on Sundays because there’s church and family time, and Mother usually entertains guests. So, with no hope of ever making it out to visit ‘ye olde fishin’ pond’ . . .” She stopped as they came around to the back of the house, “he decided to bring the pond here.”

Dawson looked over to where she was pointing and smiled.

Indeed, there it sat, complete with rocks, an overhanging tree, and an old wooden bench seat, in the middle of their pristinely manicured backyard.

“Mother was horrified at first, but I think it’s finally grown on her.”

“So does your father actually fish in it?” Dawson asked, genuinely interested and somewhat amused.

“Most certainly, but not as often as he would like. He keeps it well stocked with trout though, just in case he finds the time. Mother says she’s going to order a pair of swans, to make it look more . . . um . . . elegant?” This time when she laughed, her smile finally lit up her eyes.

For a moment, Dawson was taken aback as his heart skipped a beat. Abruptly he let go of her arm.

“We probably should go check on Georgiana,” he said quickly.

“Yes,” Samantha answered, appearing a bit flustered herself. “She might be concerned where we’ve wandered off to.”

When they came around to the front of the house, Georgiana was sitting on the porch swing. Dawson hurried up the steps to her.

“There you are. I’d wondered where you two had gone,” she said, smiling.

Dawson looked at her appraisingly. She was a vision in her blue gown. When she stood, he offered her his arm. Turning, he offered his other arm to Samantha.

“Well, ladies, shall we go?” He smiled at each of them. “I think I just may be the luckiest man alive tonight, and I
know
I will be the most envied when I walk into the dance with you two angels on my arms.” Both women laughed as they descended the porch steps and began strolling toward the social hall.

In no time at all, they had arrived.

◁ ◊ ▷

Ridge watched intently as Dawson entered the room with both Georgiana and Samantha. He had been leaning against the far wall for ten minutes now, not so patiently awaiting their arrival.

Georgiana was wearing a blue dress, his favorite color. He loved her in blue. He remembered well the blue calico dress she often wore when they were young, the one he had bought the blue ribbons to match. This blue dress could easily become one of his favorites too. The neckline was modest, though flattering, resting just wide enough to show off a hint of her soft, creamy shoulders. The rest of it complemented her figure almost too well. It made him wish he was the man standing next to her right now.

Gazing at her reminded him once again how long she’d been away. Gone were the ponytails and ribbons. They had been replaced by . . . Ridge suddenly smiled broadly. Upon closer examination, he realized she was wearing tiny blue ribbons scattered in her hair amid her mass of cascading locks. She looked beautiful!

The dance was already in full swing, and the band was playing a lively tune. Immediately, Dawson turned to Georgiana and appeared to ask her for a dance. Ridge watched as she shook her head and pointed over to a bench. He walked her over and helped her to sit. She’d been on her foot all day, he guessed, and the deep cut, still so new, had probably started giving her pains.

She gestured for him to come closer, and as Dawson leaned in, Ridge thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she turned her head slightly to the side and whispered something into his ear.

Dawson stood back up and looked to where he’d left Samantha at the door. Georgiana nodded her head encouragingly, and he turned and walked back to Samantha.

When Dawson leaned forward to whisper into Samantha’s ear, she smiled and followed him to the dance floor.

Ridge turned back to watch Georgiana just as she reached up and began playing with the chain that hung about her neck. He hadn’t noticed her wearing it when she’d come in. It must have been tucked in the bodice of her gown.

He smiled to himself, happy that she’d found where he had put it.

When he had pulled it from the creek, he had recognized it immediately. It was the gold chain her father had given her for her tenth birthday. It had come all the way over from their family in Ireland. Her great-grandfather had given it to her father when he had turned ten. A medallion hung from it, engraved with the McLaughlin family crest.

He hadn’t even realized she’d lost it. It must have fallen from around her neck that morning when they had been playing down in the water, the day before she had moved away.

He was amazed it had been lying at the bottom of the creek these last five years and he’d never seen it, probably because he always fished on the other side. He was further surprised it had never washed downstream. It must have somehow become lodged under a rock that had secured it where it had fallen all this time.

After lunch, he had taken it to the jeweler, Mr. Hobbs. He was able to polish it up somewhat and fix the latch while Ridge waited.

When he had returned to put up the last of the decorations, he decided he would get close enough to Georgiana to slip it into her pocket. The task had proved difficult indeed. Obviously part of her new decision involved staying as far away as she could from him.

When Samantha called him over to the heavily laden dessert tables to hand him a note that had been delivered for him, he knew it was his only chance. So, leaning forward between the two women, he snatched a piece of cake with one hand and slipped the chain in Georgiana’s pocket with the other. From Samantha, he got a playful swat . . . and of course the cake. Georgiana had only given him a glare.

Frustrated, Ridge recalled the note Samantha had handed him. It had been from Cordelia. She had written to tell him that due to some unforeseen circumstances, she would be late this evening. She sent her apologies and asked that he save her a dance. He’d wadded up the note and threw it away, secretly praying her unforeseen circumstances would keep her from the dance altogether.

After Ridge watched Georgiana from across the room a little longer, he stood up from the wall and began walking in her direction.
She may be avoiding me,
he thought,
but I’m not avoiding her—not any longer, anyway.
He’d made his own decision this afternoon. As he passed the refreshment table, he grabbed two glasses of punch and walked the rest of the way to where she sat.

“Ya looked like you could use somethin’ to drink,” he said, smiling down at her.

He handed her the cup and was pleasantly surprised she accepted it without any protest.

“Thank you, Ridge. You’re very thoughtful.” As she spoke, the song that was playing ended and another one began immediately. Dawson and Samantha continued dancing.

Ridge gestured to the seat next to her.

“Do ya mind if I . . . ?”

“Of course not,” she answered and politely moved the folds of her dress to one side to allow him ample room to sit.

Inwardly relieved, Ridge sat down next to her. He was two for two, and he hoped his luck would hold. Turning to watch the dance floor for a while, he found himself staring at Dawson and Samantha. He knew Samantha was a good dancer, but apparently Dawson was as good, if not better. They were certainly dominating the dance floor and having a good time doing it.

Ridge glanced over at Georgiana. She was watching them as well.

Suddenly he felt sorry for her. She probably wasn’t enjoying herself so far. He was contemplating what he could say to her when she starting speaking, almost duplicating his thoughts from a moment ago.

“I had no idea Samantha could dance so well. I know how good Dawson is. They look like they’re really enjoying themselves.”

“Yes, but what about you? You don’t seem to be havin’ much fun,” he commented.

“I’m just fine,” she informed him, then added, “really,” when he looked at her doubtfully. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to dance much with this foot of mine. I’ve been walking on it way too much.”

“How is it healin’?” he asked but turned back to the dance floor briefly when he heard an enthusiastic applause. A crowd had assembled around Dawson and Samantha as they danced.

“Amazingly well, thanks to you.”

Ridge turned back to look at her when he heard the emotion in her voice.

“By the way,” she began, her eyes searching his, “I want to thank you for this.” She touched her father’s chain with one hand and laid her other hand on his arm. Ridge shook his head. “Don’t try to deny it, Ridge. I know it was you. You’re not as sneaky as you may think.”

When he didn’t answer either way, she removed her hand and turned her eyes back to the dance floor. The song ended again, and a slow one began. When it became apparent that Dawson wasn’t coming for her, Ridge stood up and offered her his hand.

“Shall we dance?”

She smiled up at him and placed her hand in his. After helping her to stand, he led her to the dance floor.

Before they started dancing, he cautioned her. “If your foot begins to pain you too much, let me know right away.”

She nodded her affirmation, and taking the proper position, they slowly began the waltz.

He struggled with the desire to hold her closer than was proper. Angus wasn’t here to scowl at him, and Dawson was temporarily distracted. But, despite what he wanted, Ridge was also determined not to cause her any discomfort, though her very nearness was nigh to causing him to falter.

“I must say, Ridge, you dance very well too,” she complimented him sincerely.

“I have Samantha to thank for that,” Ridge admitted honestly. “She grew tired of me always stepping on her toes, and so she made it her goal one year to teach me.”

◁ ◊ ▷

Georgiana felt a sudden twinge of jealously when she thought of Ridge and Samantha dancing together. For the first time, she wondered if Samantha and Ridge had ever had feelings for each other, and an even larger wave of jealousy washed over her. Suddenly she felt an angry swell ebb its way in, and she fought to keep it at bay. How could she have missed out on so much? She should have been here. When they’d moved to New York, she’d left too much behind. Looking up into Ridge’s face, she concentrated on suppressing her jealous feelings. She was determined not to be annoyed with him tonight.

When she had begun changing her clothes at Samantha’s home to get ready for the dance, something fell out of her pocket onto the floor in front of her. She had immediately picked it up and inspected it. It was the chain her father had given her—the one she tried to retrieve from the creek! It had been recently polished. There was no question as to who had placed it in her pocket. When Ridge had leaned forward to snatch a piece of cake earlier, she had felt his hand brush up against her. She distinctly remembered getting angry at the thrill that had warmed through her body. He must have dropped it in her pocket then.