Читать книгу The Bridal Swap - Karen Kirst - Страница 10

Two young ladies stood watching them, eyes wide with curiosity.

Kate flushed with embarrassment. No doubt they were drawing their own conclusions to what appeared to be an intimate moment. What would they think when they realized she wasn’t Francesca?

“Girls, I’d like you to meet Miss Kate Morgan.” Josh put distance between them. “Kate, these are my cousins. Megan and Nicole O’Malley.”

Like Kate and Francesca, the O’Malley sisters did not resemble each other in the slightest. With her dusky-blond curls and angelic countenance, Megan radiated a sweetness not present in Nicole, who was a striking beauty with raven hair and china-blue eyes.

Megan’s friendly smile put Kate instantly at ease. Nicole stared at her with undisguised awe, her gaze taking in every inch of Kate’s attire. Compared to their comparatively simple dresses, she supposed her ensemble was a bit much.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Welcome to Gatlinburg, Kate,” Megan said.

“Kate? But I thought—” Nicole began, only to stop when Megan nudged her shoulder. “Uh, it’s nice to meet you.”

Hating that Josh had been put in the position yet again of having to explain this horrible situation, she saved him the trouble. “My sister, Francesca, isn’t coming, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” he said firmly, searching the street for onlookers.

That was one advantage of living in a large city, she thought—a person could blend in with the crowd. No one knew your business, and no one cared.

It was obvious the girls respected Josh, for they dropped the subject like a hot potato.

“We were on our way to Plum’s for tea. Would you like to join us?” Megan asked, her eyes hopeful.

“It’s our town’s very first café,” Nicole gushed. “Mrs. Greene, the proprietress, says one day soon we’ll have loads of people coming through here looking at our mountains and that they’ll all need a place to eat. Ma thinks she’s lost her mind—”

“Nicole, please.” Megan shot her an exasperated glance.

She waited for Josh to reply, who deferred to Kate. “It’s up to you.”

After the near run-in with Tyler and her disturbing awareness of Josh, a cup of hot tea might help her to relax. “That sounds like a splendid idea.”

“Wonderful.” Megan beamed her pleasure.

Kate hadn’t always been the best judge of character, but she got the feeling Megan O’Malley would make a good friend. And she didn’t have many of those. Most of the young socialites of her acquaintance were like Fran, interested only in the latest fashions, the finest parties and, most importantly, finding a rich, suitable husband.

While she liked nice clothes, she would much rather take photographs than spend hours poring through Harper’s Bazaar or standing for fittings. Parties among her set were overrated. Same food, same music, same people. Different setting.

As for a husband, she did want one of those. Longed, actually, for someone to love who loved her heart, mind and soul. But after what had happened with Wesley, well, she worried no man would want her—a used woman.

He certainly hadn’t wanted her. Once had been enough for him.

While she’d been sure he would show up the next day with a ring and a proposal, he’d boarded a ship for England instead.

Shoving the remembered pain and humiliation aside, she crossed the dusty street with Josh, the sisters walking ahead of them. They were chattering and laughing, seeming as close as sisters could be, and Kate experienced a familiar twinge of regret. She and Fran had never shared such a close bond, not even as children. Now that her sister had a new husband and a home of her own, Kate doubted they ever would.

Plum Café was an unexpectedly charming establishment. Mauve tablecloths covered the round tables, and matching curtains edged with gold ribbon adorned the windows overlooking the street, softening the harsh glare of sunlight.

An assortment of tantalizing aromas hung in the air. Voices and the clatter of dishes could be heard coming from the kitchen in back. Only one of the tables was occupied—an elderly couple who smiled and nodded but otherwise minded their own business.

Josh pulled a chair out for each of them and once they were seated, lowered his tall form into the one beside her. He took off his hat and hooked it on the back of his chair, then ran a hand through his hair. It was impossible to judge his mood by his closed expression. Was he thinking of his canceled wedding?

The proprietress, a meticulously dressed, middle-age lady, appeared and took their orders.

Nicole leaned eagerly forward. “Kate, you must tell us about New York. Have you been to Macy’s? What’s it like?”

Kate smiled. “Macy’s has the most amazing window displays. The staff is attentive and knowledgeable. There is so much to see, you could spend days browsing the aisles.”

“Is there a library in the city?” Megan looked hopeful.

“There are two—the Astor Library, used primarily for research, and the Lenox Library, which has mainly rare, religious books. I don’t visit either one, since our estate houses a grand library with both classics and recent works.”

“What a treat to have all those books at your disposal. Why, I doubt I’d get much else done if I lived there!”

“What type of books do you like to read?” Kate asked. “I brought a crate full with me. You’re welcome to borrow as many as you’d like.”

“Honest?” Megan seemed pleased with the offer.

“All she reads are love stories.” Nicole rolled her eyes.

“Nothing else.”

“That’s not true,” the other girl protested. “I like adventure stories, too.”

“If I have to hear about Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet one more time,” she exclaimed, “I think I’ll be sick.”

“Nicole!”

Kate dipped her head to hide a smile. Their drinks arrived then, along with a plate of gooey, pecan-sprinkled cinnamon rolls.

Josh held up a hand. “We didn’t order these, Mrs. Greene.”

“Consider it an engagement gift.” The lady’s smile encompassed Kate and Josh. “Congratulations.”

Before they could correct her, she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Oh, dear.” Cheeks burning, Kate lowered her gaze to her lap.

When she felt his touch on her shoulder, she looked up and got lost in his impossibly blue eyes. “Forget about it,” he said quietly. “It’d be a shame to let these go to waste. I’ll clear things up with Mrs. Greene later.”

“Here you are.” Megan set a roll in front of her. “That woman is an amazing cook. You have to try one.”

Nicole was already biting into the pastry, an expression of rapture on her youthful face. “Mmm.”

She supposed she could set aside her self-imposed aversion to sugar-laden treats just this once. “Fine. But just so you know, I don’t normally do this.”

All eyes were on her as she lifted the first bite into her mouth. The rich, cinnamon pastry melted on her tongue. She stifled a moan of appreciation.

She attempted a stern expression. “Now I’m in trouble. I will have to make a point of avoiding the Plum Café from now on and maybe even this entire side of the street.”

The sisters chuckled. Even Josh managed a smile.

“Want to know what I think?” He set down his coffee mug. The teasing light in his eyes was unexpected, stealing her breath. “Now that you’ve tasted them, you won’t be able to resist.”

“I disagree,” she challenged with a lift of her chin. “When it comes to sweets, I happen to have unwavering willpower.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. His eyes darkened, all emotion hidden. “You, um, have a spot of cinnamon.” He indicated the corner of her lips.

Self-conscious, Kate used her napkin. “Better?”

“Yes.” Shifting in the chair, he addressed Megan. “I was at the post office just now and picked up a letter from Juliana.”

“Oh?” She exchanged a pointed glance with Nicole. “What did she say?”

Nicole giggled.

“I haven’t read it.” He stared hard at them. “What’s up?”

“Juliana’s expecting!” Nicole blurted.

“You weren’t supposed to tell,” Megan admonished in a hushed whisper.

Beside her, Josh went very still. “Why keep it a secret?”

Eyes averted, Nicole toyed with her teacup. Megan met his gaze head-on.

“It’s not a secret, of course. It’s just that, well, Juliana wanted to tell you herself. No doubt it’s in your letter.” To Kate, she explained, “Juliana is our eldest sister. She was married last month and now lives with her husband, Evan Harrison, in Cades Cove. She and Josh were best friends.”

Gulping the last of his coffee, Josh set the cup down with a thud. “Are you two going straight home after this?”

“Yes.”

“Would you mind walking Kate home?”

“Not at all.”

Grabbing his hat, he looked at her. “Is that okay with you?”

“Certainly.”

Standing, he slipped Megan a banknote. “This will take care of the bill and tip.”

“Josh—”

He silenced his cousin with a look.

The three sat without speaking as they watched him leave. As her seat was facing the window, she could see him striding purposefully down the street. He was obviously distraught by this sudden news. Her heart went out to him.

“Kate, did your sister call off the wedding?” Megan’s troubled countenance revealed how deeply she cared about her cousin.

“Yes. In fact, she has already married someone else.”

Kate cringed at Nicole’s shocked gasp. Megan’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“He must be heartbroken,” she whispered. “He was already sad about Juliana’s leaving.”

“She and Josh were practically joined at the hip.”

“He lost his best friend,” Megan confirmed. “And now his bride …”

Lounging on a sun-warmed rock, Josh stared unseeing at the water coursing past. The fish weren’t biting today.

He’d been in his workshop since leaving the café, working most of the day to finish Mr. Wilcox’s dining table. His hands ached from the amount of sanding and polishing he’d done, but it was a small inconvenience. The table was finished. The money he’d get from it would bring him one step closer to his dream.

If someone else didn’t beat him to the punch, that is.

A twig snapped. Josh whipped around, his hand going to the pistol in his holster. Spying Kate, he relaxed.

She’d abandoned her stiff jacket and wore only a long-sleeved, ruffled black blouse with her deep purple skirts. Slung over her shoulder were an odd-shaped bag and a leather strap attached to a square box. With the other hand, she carried a tripod stand.

Her porcelain skin was flushed pink. Chocolate curls had escaped confinement to brush against her cheeks. It was obvious she hadn’t seen him. Her gaze scanned the woods, occasionally dropping to the ground as she maneuvered fallen logs and uneven terrain.

“Kate.”

Her hand went to her throat. “You startled me!”

“Sorry.” Standing, he removed his hat. “Do you need help?”

“I can manage.” Changing direction, she headed his way.

He met her halfway and took the tripod.

With careful movements, she set the box and bag on the leaf-strewn ground.

She held out her hands for the tripod.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“I survived,” she huffed. “Although you could’ve warned me about Nicole’s propensity to talk endlessly of fashion.” If it weren’t for the teasing light dancing in her eyes, he would’ve thought she was serious.

Again, her reaction was unexpected. Francesca would’ve pouted over such carelessness on his part, no matter that he was upset, trying to absorb one change after another.

“It’s a topic of great interest to her, I’m afraid.” He sighed, a hint of answering humor in his voice. “She drove you to distraction, I take it?”

“Not at all! I like Megan and Nicole very much. They are nicely mannered young ladies.”

“Glad to hear it. I’m rather fond of them myself.”

“The sisters you never had?”

“Living next door to each other, we were practically raised as one big family. They do like to accuse me of assuming the role of protective older brother.”

“You were upset earlier. Is everything okay with the one who moved away?”

“Juliana’s fine.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Better than fine, actually. Ecstatic. I’m thrilled for her. It’s just that so much has changed the past few weeks.”

Her expression turned pensive. “Yes, I can imagine it’s a lot to take in.”

Certain she was thinking of his canceled wedding and not at all interested in going down that path, he resumed his post and picked up his rod.

Indicating his empty pail, he said, “I was hoping to have trout for supper, but so far the fish aren’t obliging.”

A ghost of a smile gracing her mouth, she surveyed the pebble-strewn stream and dense forest spreading out around them. It was quiet here. Restful. Nothing but the trickle of water and the rustle of leaves overhead.

“There’s something magical about this place,” she said, her voice hushed. “It’s so beautiful it almost defies description.”

With the onset of fall, the leaves were already beginning to thin out. “You should see it in spring and summer. The greenery is so thick you feel like you’re the only creature for miles around, save the birds and squirrels.”

Her gaze settled on his. “I’d like that.”

He hadn’t meant it as an invitation. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. Kate seemed nice enough. But she didn’t fit in here. And although the physical similarity wasn’t there, in his mind he’d never be able to separate her from Francesca and her heartless betrayal.

He pointed to the box. “What do you have there?”

“My camera.”

Crouching down, she flipped open the lid and lifted it out. Made of polished cherrywood with brass fittings, black accordion-like material in between the two ends, it appeared to be an expensive piece of equipment. “Would you mind if I took a photograph of you?”

“What? Now?” He wasn’t primped and primed for a portrait. Far from it.

“Yes, now.” She stood. “Not every photo has to be staged in a studio.”

“But I’m not dressed—”

“You look fine.” Her gaze flicked over his shirt and trousers. “Natural. I wouldn’t expect you to be fishing in a three-piece suit, and neither would anyone else.” She paused in sliding a piece of square coated glass into the camera. “If you’d rather not, I understand. I don’t want to make you uneasy.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Great.” Her wide smile elicited one of his own. “I’m going across.”

There was a natural bridge to the other side, a mound of earth and rocks she crossed without incident. When she was directly across from him, he said, “I thought photographers had to travel with portable darkrooms.” The stream wasn’t all that wide, so he didn’t have to raise his voice.

“Not with the invention of the dry plate.” She steadied the stand before placing the camera on top. “The image is fixed and doesn’t have to be processed right away.”

“I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“That’s because they’ve only recently been manufactured for widespread sale. Okay, look directly at me. And sit as still as possible.” Peering into the camera, she removed the cover and waited for a full minute before replacing it. Straightening, she seemed pleased. “That’s going to be a good one, I think.”

Crossing back over, she was replacing the camera in its box when he spoke.

“Tell me about Francesca’s husband.”

Her hands stilled. She looked uncertain.

“I don’t even know her married name,” he persisted.

“His name is Percy Johnson.”

“Francesca Johnson. I think Francesca O’Malley has a nicer ring to it, but that’s just my opinion.”

Her mouth flattened. “I’m sorry.”

“I know he’s not a common laborer, like me. What does he do? Or rather, what does his family do? He probably hasn’t worked a day in his life.” He couldn’t disguise the bitterness in his voice.

I’m sorry, God. I can’t help envying the guy. He got the girl, and I’m left here to pick up the pieces.

Indignation flashed in her eyes. “There’s nothing common about you. My sister chose flash and glamour over depth and substance. She made a foolish decision.”

Her words sparked an odd pang in his chest. He couldn’t figure out why she was defending him. She didn’t know him. Not really. Except, she had listened to his letters and glimpsed into his soul without his consent.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she hastened to add, “I love my sister. It’s just that we each have our own opinions of what’s important in life.”

He found that difficult to believe. They might disagree on specifics, but their outlook couldn’t be all that different. They shared the same upbringing, the same advantages.

Proposing marriage to a woman so far above his station had been a colossal mistake. He should’ve realized from the beginning that their worlds were too far apart.

“I just don’t get it,” he wondered aloud. “Why not break off the engagement the moment she decided to patch things up with him?”

She edged closer to the water, stepping on a smooth, slanted rock scattered with orange leaves. “I wish I had an answer for you. Her behavior is as much a mystery to me as it is to you.”

“The two of you aren’t close?”

She frowned. “No.”

He wanted to question her further, to ask why her parents hadn’t invited her to join them in Europe, but it was none of his business. Soon she’d be gone and he wouldn’t have to spare another thought on the Morgan family.

She pointed to a rounded shell bobbing above the surface. “Do you know what kind of turtle that is?”

“Can’t rightly say, but there are a number of painted box turtles hereabouts.”

“A pity it moves too quickly for my camera.”

His eyes on the turtle, he hadn’t noticed her getting closer to the rock’s edge.

“Be careful,” he warned, holding out a hand. “Those rocks can be slippery—”

“All I want is a closer look.”

One moment she was standing, bent at the hip with hands braced against her knees. An instant later, she was facedown in the stream.

Dropping his pole, Josh strode through the thigh-deep water. Wrapping his arm around her, his hand curled around her waist, he helped her stand. “Are you hurt?”

A bubble of laughter escaped as she wiped the moisture from her eyes. Her mouth a breath away from his ear, the soft, husky sound shot liquid fire through his veins.

“I’m fine.” Taking stock of her sodden clothing, she grimaced. “My pride is a bit bruised, however. You did warn me, didn’t you?”

Josh couldn’t stop his smile. “Did you get that closer look you wanted?”

“No. I guess he didn’t want to stick around for all the excitement.”

A shiver coursed through her body. Though it was a warm September day, the water was cool. And she was wet from head to toe, the layers of clothing clinging to her petite yet womanly frame. Water dripped from her hair onto his shirt.