Читать книгу The Engagement Charade - Karen Kirst - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Ellie could tell by the sun’s slant that she’d overslept. Although reluctant to leave the soft bed, the prospect of Alexander’s ire prodded her out of it. He’d gone out of his way to be a gentleman last evening, and this is how she repaid him? She rushed through her morning routine, only to discover the one outfit she’d left the cove with was missing.

She padded through the quiet house and found her hostess seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and her Bible open before her. Her coronet braids neat as a pin and not a single wrinkle in her sprigged cotton dress, June radiated cheerfulness that Ellie found refreshing.

Her smile was bright as she marked her place with a handmade bookmark. “Good morning, dear. How did you sleep?”

“A little too well, I’m afraid.” The mantel clock had confirmed her fears. It was past nine o’clock. “I haven’t slept this late since I was a child.”

“You needed rest.”

Fiddling with her housecoat belt, Ellie shook her head. “Not at the expense of my job. Mr. Copeland will not be pleased. And poor Flo’s had to prepare everything on her own. I’ll have to make it up to her somehow, but first I need to find my clothes. Have you seen them? The wardrobe was empty. I looked under the bed to see if they’d fallen—”

June went to the stove and uncovered a plate crowded with biscuits, sausage and eggs. “I spot-cleaned them for you. They’re hanging in the pantry.” She indicated the empty seat across from her own. “As for Mr. Copeland, it was his idea to let you sleep for as long as you wanted.”

Ellie’s jaw went slack. Such thoughtfulness coming from a man who made it his mission to remain indifferent to everyone and everything around him?

“That doesn’t sound like him.”

“Heard it with my own ears.” She winked. “He was very concerned about you. Does he know about the baby?”

“No.” At least, she hoped he didn’t. Sinking into the chair, she picked up a fork. “I’m not ready to tell him.”

Shooting a significant look to Ellie’s midsection, she quipped, “Before long you won’t have a choice.”

Absently rubbing the slight thickness in her middle, she tried to imagine how such a conversation would go. She tried to picture Alexander’s lean, handsome features wreathed in happiness, his mouth curved in genuine delight. Unable to manage it, she tucked into her breakfast, more ravenous than she’d realized.

June refused to let her clean the dishes. After expressing her thanks, she quickly dressed and left for the café. The September morning was pleasantly warm. About half of the trees sprinkled throughout the fields and mountainsides were displaying their fiery autumn colors. The rest remained stubbornly green. Robins chirped and squirrels sprang from branch to branch as she passed by. Near the church, a group of white-tailed deer emerged from the forest, graceful creatures that delighted Ellie no matter how many times she encountered them.

Her steps were light the remainder of the way. For the first time in a very long while, she felt refreshed, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Fragile hope trickled through her. Sure, she was apprehensive about the birth, as well as the prospect of being solely responsible for her child’s well-being, but she trusted God to provide. He’d sustained her through a troubled marriage and blessed her with employment and now a nice, comfortable place to live. He’d give her the strength to deal with the future.

Unsurprisingly, Alexander was closeted in his office when she arrived. Ellie watched his door like a hawk waiting to pounce. By two o’clock, her patience had evaporated. A plate of food in one hand, she read the paper he’d attached to the smooth wood surface.

“Do not disturb.”

She scowled. He was wrong if he thought a flimsy piece of paper would prevent her from her goal.

He took his time answering the door. When his towering form filled the doorway, his closed-off features inches from hers, a quiver of awareness vibrated in her middle. His eyes were so very blue, the inner ring made more vivid by the darker, outer one. When they were locked onto her like this, she felt slightly dazed by their beauty. His black locks were like rich silk against his pale skin. His mouth fit his carved features, but it was also full and soft-looking, too.

The faint scent of soap that clung to his clothes wafted to her, mingling with that of the sliced beef and cabbage on his plate. She switched to breathing through her mouth. Being sick all over her boss’s polished shoes was a humiliation she couldn’t afford.

“Ellie.” His expression was one of long suffering. “Did you not see my sign?”

“I saw it. You have excellent handwriting.” Lifting the plate, she said, “It’s long past noon. You missed your lunch.”

His lips compressed. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I am able to see to my own needs.”

“And I’m not?” she quipped.

“I’m not sure to what you’re referring.”

“You informed my hostess not to disturb me this morning, did you not? Without consulting me.”

His gaze searched her features with disconcerting intensity. Then he stationed himself behind his desk. Ellie took that as an invitation and, stepping inside, closed the door. When she’d placed his meal between a thick sheaf of papers and his pen holder, he said, “You didn’t enjoy the extra sleep?”

“I didn’t say that.” A rueful laugh escaped. Without waiting for his permission, she sat in one of the chairs, tugging her apron down to cover a stain on her gray skirt. “I feel more refreshed today than I have since arriving in Tennessee. For that, I thank you.”

He hesitated, staring at her and then the food. Apparently accepting she wasn’t going anywhere, he sank into the leather chair and started eating without saying grace. She didn’t recall seeing him at church. Was he not a believer? Or had his walk with Christ suffered due to whatever trouble had befallen him?

Since she likely wouldn’t get an answer to those questions, she didn’t bother posing them.

“Flo said the crowd was sparse this morning.”

The café did the most business during the dinner hour. Lunch was brisk, as well, with bachelors making up the majority.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

His ongoing disinterest in his own business flummoxed Ellie. He must have wealth independent of this venture, which meant the Plum’s success or failure wouldn’t impact his livelihood. The same couldn’t be said for his employees.

“Have you owned other restaurants?”

“No.”

Perhaps it was his inexperience guiding his inattentiveness? But that didn’t make sense. Alexander struck her as a shrewd man.

“What did you do before this then?”

He was silent for several long beats. A muscle ticked in his square jaw. His focus on his plate, he said quietly, “I owned a ranch in Texas.”

“Texas? You don’t fit the image I have of a rancher.”

Alexander’s gaze collided with hers. “I left that life behind a long time ago.”

The pain he couldn’t quite hide—emotional this time, not physical—underscored her conviction that he needed a friend.

“Do you have family there? Friends?”

His throat working, he laid his fork down. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’d rather not discuss my past.”

She noticed he’d only eaten half the food. Standing, she said, “I didn’t mean to disrupt your meal. It’s just that...”

He arched a brow. “Just what?”

“Well, I—”

His full attention made her self-conscious of her shabby clothing and her unsophisticated hairstyle. She suddenly yearned to be admired by this man, which was wholly impossible and not thoughts an expectant widow should be thinking!

Balancing his elbows on the surface, he steepled his hands. “You may as well speak your mind,” he drawled. “You usually do, eventually.”

“Pardon my bluntness, but you seem very alone. I think you could use a friend. Yet you do nothing to encourage friendships.”

His gaze promptly lowered, thick lashes resting against the hollows beneath his eyes. “It’s the way I prefer to live my life. Less chance of complications.”

“The loneliness doesn’t bother you?”

“A small price to pay for peace.”

His expression didn’t share the conviction of his words. He didn’t seem peaceful in the slightest.

“I know what it is to be lonely,” she admitted. “It wasn’t by choice. Living with my grandparents, I led a full life. We were involved in our church and were friends with most of the neighbors. I didn’t stop to wonder why the Jamesons weren’t part of our circle.” She brushed her fingers over the faded lace edging on the apron that had once belonged to her grandmother. “I was young and naïve. After my grandmother’s passing, I was overwhelmed by everything that needed to be done. The funeral service. The sale of the farm—I wanted to stay but I couldn’t work it by myself. Howard’s offer to buy it seemed like an answer to prayer. His property abutted ours. I’d still be close, you know? And then Nolan proposed...my future went from being scary and uncertain to being assured.”

Lost in memories that stirred sadness and regret, she belatedly registered Alexander’s piercing regard. His thoughts were impossible to decipher.

“The Jamesons restricted your social interactions?”

The inquiry surprised her. It wasn’t his habit to pry. “They did. I resisted at first, but it only angered Nolan and made life uncomfortable. So I adjusted.”

“You shouldn’t have had to.” He pushed the food around on his plate.

“I was compelled to cut off my friendships. No one is requiring you to.” She made an encompassing gesture. “I’m discovering that Gatlinburg is home to plenty of caring folks, but they won’t force themselves on you. You have to invite their company.”

His fork clinked against the plate, and he gave up the pretense of eating. “I’m not sure what gave you the impression that I’m discontent with my current lifestyle. I don’t need anyone, Ellie.”

The resignation with which he spoke, combined with the hint of sadness in his eyes, prompted her response. Why wouldn’t he admit the truth? “You need Flo and Sally. You need me. You need customers.”

His gaze became hooded. “You mistake my meaning.”

“But—”

He stood to his feet like a king expecting immediate obedience. “I believe we’re done here.”

Ellie smoothed her apron. “You’ve been more than kind to me. I simply wanted to offer you...” She swept her hair behind her shoulder and made a dismissive gesture. Why would a man like him value her friendship? “I wanted to express my gratitude for everything you’ve done.”

His chest rose and fell in an exaggerated breath. “I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.”

“Still, your thoughtfulness means a lot, especially after the past four years.” She clamped her lips shut. He didn’t wish to hear any more about her disappointments. “I’ll, ah, go get started on that rhubarb pie for tonight.”

Alexander didn’t attempt to stop her. Her mood dampened, she left him to his solitude.

* * *

Raised voices coming from the dining room startled Alexander, and his pencil skidded across the page, marring the sketch of a black bear and her cubs. Irritated, he left his office and walked through the short hallway, pausing on the threshold. The tables were full of customers enjoying their evening meal, an unheard-of phenomenon before Ellie. At the moment, they were focused on three people in the corner near the fireplace.

His waitress, Sally Hatcher, wore a cowed expression as a patron, a man taller than Alexander and who likely outweighed him by a hundred pounds, shook his finger in her face. Gauging from the wet stain on his shirtfront and bits of coleslaw scattered on his person, Sally had had a bout of clumsiness. The man’s face was mottled.

How anyone could be angry with the earnest, soft-hearted eighteen-year-old was beyond him. At only an inch or two above five feet and thin as a fence post, Sally was the type of girl who provoked protective feelings in most men.

The man let loose another verbal lash. Sally’s big brown eyes filled with tears. Her head lowering, her wispy, corn-colored hair slid forward to hide her flaming cheeks. With a disgusted sound, Ellie inserted herself between waitress and customer as a living barrier. The sight made Alexander’s throat close up. He felt the crowd’s attention switch to him as he wove through the tables to reach them.

“It was an unfortunate accident, sir.” Ellie projected a calm front, but Alexander detected her underlying distress. The irate man was at least a foot taller than her. “Sally didn’t mean any harm. I’m sure you’ve had mishaps before. None of us are immune, unfortunately.”

“How am I supposed to finish my dinner with my shirt wet through and smellin’ of vinegar?” he growled.

Ellie’s forehead wrinkled. “I understand that would be uncomfortable. If we had a shirt to give you, we would.”

“My meal is ruined, and I want to know what you’re gonna do about it.”

“Leave her alone, McCauley,” someone from another table muttered.

Alexander pulled Sally aside. “Go fetch something to clean the food off the floor,” he murmured.

“Yes, sir. Right away.” She fled the room.

As she at last registered his presence, the color in Ellie’s cheeks surged and waned. He couldn’t resist the silent appeal for help in her coffee-brown gaze.

Moving close beside her, he stuck out his hand. “Good evening, sir. I’m Alexander Copeland, the proprietor of the Plum. I see you’ve met with a mishap.”

“Any fool can see that,” he snapped, indicating his chest.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. If you’d like to accompany me to the kitchen, we can get you cleaned up. And of course, your meal will be on the house.”

His unkempt brows formed a deep V.

“You’re welcome to your choice of dessert, as well.” Ellie piped up. “We have rhubarb pie and fried apple pies.”

“Go with the rhubarb,” another patron called out. “Finest pie I’ve put in my mouth.”

“Harry!” the lady beside him complained.

“Oh, not as fine as yours, my dear.”

A few chuckles filtered through the room.

“I’ll take you up on your offer,” Mr. McCauley consented. “Rhubarb it is.”

Alexander had managed to calm a customer. Glancing at Ellie, he acknowledged she was the reason he’d gotten involved. Once he had the mess sorted out, he joined her at the stove where she was sprinkling salt and chopped herbs into a fragrant potato soup.

“In the future, I want you to alert me immediately if another scene like that one arises.”

Dusting her fingers on her no longer pristine apron, she tilted her head to one side, causing her ponytail to swing wide. “Sally and I are accustomed to dealing with unruly customers.”

He grimaced as once again he pictured her squaring off against the giant of a man. “It’s my responsibility.”

Clearly mystified, she nodded. “All right. I’ll let Sally know.”

“Thank you.”

He was about to turn away when he noticed she was wearing the unflattering gray blouse and skirt beneath her frilly apron, the same clothes she’d worn several days in a row. Suspicion wound through him.

He made sure Flo was properly occupied on the other side of the room before voicing his thoughts.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but is that your only outfit?”

Her eyes rounded before she became inordinately interested in the simmering soup. “At the moment it is.”

While he knew he’d embarrassed her, he couldn’t let the matter drop. “Did your in-laws prevent you from taking your belongings?”

The spoon’s stirring slowed. “H-how did you guess?”

The soft pink hue tingeing her cheeks mirrored her rosebud mouth and lent a feminine delicacy to her features. She wasn’t beautiful, exactly, but definitely intriguing.

Shaking off the thoughts, he answered her. “They’re spiteful enough to forbid you to utilize one of their horses for transportation. Based on your comments of how they took the news, not to mention the fact you had only a quilt with you the other night, it was a logical conclusion.”

“Ralph snuck the quilt out to me. He wasn’t able to get anything else,” she said. “I don’t wish to be an embarrassment to the café. Once I save up enough money, I’ll buy fabric to make new clothes.”

Without thinking what he was doing, he grasped her chin and gently tipped up her face. “You’re not an embarrassment, Ellie. That’s not why I asked. As I said before, I’ve had brushes with bullies and I detest such behavior. I won’t allow an employee of mine to be treated that way.”

Moisture gathered in her molten eyes. “Oh.”

Her warm breath fanned over his fingers. He had but to move his thumb an inch to test the texture of her bee-stung lips. Lowering his hand and shoving it in his pocket, he edged back a step.

“Immediately following breakfast tomorrow, I will accompany you to collect your things.”

Blinking fast, she laid the soup spoon on the table behind her. “That’s not necessary—”

“Oh, but it is.” His tone brooked no argument. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

Slipping outside into the tranquil evening, he gazed up at the stars, the same stars that overlooked his Texas ranch and the graves of Sarah and Levi. The familiar weight of grief and anger squeezed his heart.

“I don’t know what Your purpose is in bringing her here, God, but I won’t be part of it. I’ll do this thing for her, and that’s it. No more.”