Читать книгу The Texan's Courtship Lessons - Noelle Marchand - Страница 11

Chapter Three

“Courting lessons?” Rhett couldn’t contain the skepticism in his voice even as his heart sank in his chest at Isabelle’s suggestion. He knew from past experience that nothing proved a woman’s disinterest more than her trying to foist him off on one of her friends. It didn’t make a lick of sense in this instance, though, because Isabelle was interested. He’d seen it in her eyes during that first tug of attraction on the hotel porch.

Furthermore, she could say all she wanted about their kiss meaning nothing. That didn’t mean they hadn’t felt something. He knew for sure that he had and, if her response in that moment was any indication, she had, too. Why, then, was she so eager to pass him off to someone else?

He searched her face for some clue. Perhaps his question was written across his expression, for a blush rose in her cheeks. Her lashes lowered to guard her eyes. “We, um, don’t have to call it anything official like that. I’ll just try to help you overcome whatever it is that makes you nervous.”

“Why?”

Her gaze shot to his. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to help me?”

Her mouth opened then closed. “It’s the right thing to do.”

He narrowed his eyes, sensing there was more to it than that. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, so he guessed. “Are you sure it isn’t because my house is burning down and I twisted my ankle?”

“I’m sure.” A hint of a smile curved her lips at his doubtful look. “Well, that isn’t entirely the reason.”

“What’s the rest of it?”

“None of your business.”

She was definitely up to something. For some reason, he didn’t think it was entirely altruistic. He shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter. There’s no point in accepting your offer. The lessons wouldn’t work, anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

Oh, but he did. Ellie had tried to help him and failed. Lawson’s advice hadn’t worked, either. The Bachelor List had been wrong. God seemed to have turned a deaf ear to his prayers for this area of his life. Then again, perhaps the problem was that he’d been depending too much on other people. Maybe he ought to see if there wasn’t something he could do to help himself. Something like courting lessons perhaps?

He sent her a sideways glance. “How would you be helping exactly?”

Her eyes went blank for a second. She blinked then smiled brightly. “Just leave that to me.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“I have a few ideas.” She lifted her chin. “I need time to develop them.”

“Right,” he drawled.

She lifted a brow. “So you’ll do it?”

“How about you let me know what you come up with, and I’ll think about it?” That way he’d have an out in case he’d already tried whatever she came up with. There was no use repeating something that had already failed.

“Wonderful!” A delighted smile blossomed upon her lips before it eased into one of compassion. “I’m so sorry, by the way, about your house.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that you stopped me from going home early. More than my ankle might have been hurt if you hadn’t.”

Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t even thought about that. Oh, that reminds me. I was supposed to get Doc. Don’t move an inch, Rhett Granger. I’ll be right back.”

She kept her promise of returning quickly with the doctor. Quinn and Helen followed after them, along with a tall, bookish-looking gentleman with spectacles whom Rhett recognized as Isabelle’s father, Thomas Bradley. Everyone seemed to want to speak at once. Eventually, they all deferred to Doc Williams. “If his ankle is as swollen as I think it will be, we won’t be able to get that boot back on. It would be far better to have him settled wherever he’ll be staying while I examine him.”

Mr. Bradley nodded. “To the boardinghouse, then.”

“The boardinghouse?” Rhett glanced at the concerned faces around him in confusion.

Isabelle nodded. “We’re offering you a room at our boardinghouse. Isn’t that right, Pa?”

“It certainly is. Your first week with us will be free given tonight’s unfortunate circumstances. After that, you are welcome to stay on as a renter should you choose to do so.”

Helen’s empathetic gaze met Rhett’s and she nodded. “It would be a good alternative since you don’t want to live with me and Quinn. I felt right at home during my stay at the boardinghouse when I first came to Peppin. The Bradleys are wonderful people. I’m sure they’ll look out for you while you heal.”

“I definitely appreciate the offer.” He wavered about whether to insist on paying for all the time he’d spend there. Deciding he didn’t want to take the chance of offending the Bradleys by rejecting their kindness, he gave them a grateful nod. “What’s more, I’d be happy to accept.”

Quinn and Helen left to fetch Rhett some necessities. Isabelle led the way to the boardinghouse while Rhett followed with Doc and Mr. Bradley bracing him on either side. Rhett was ensconced in Mr. Bradley’s study by the time Quinn and Helen met up with them. They deposited the toiletries and other items gifted to Rhett by Johansen’s Mercantile before Doc shooed them out as he had the Bradleys. Rhett held back a groan as Doc carefully pulled the boot off.

After a thorough examination, Doc shook his head. “Well, Rhett, it doesn’t look like anything is broken. My diagnosis is that you have a severe sprain, which was probably made worse by your continued exercise on it during the fire. I’m going to leave a mild pain reliever with you. I’m sure my wife knows of a few natural remedies that will help you recover. I’ll send her by tomorrow.”

Doc’s tone turned as stern as his look. “The most important element of your recovery is rest. I want you to stay off your feet as often as you can for the next forty-eight hours. After that, you’ll need to use crutches for at least two weeks. You must allow the ankle to heal properly. Otherwise, you’ll be far more likely to sprain it again in the near future. Now, let’s get it wrapped and elevated.”

Rhett was silent as he let the doctor work. Inside, he felt far less compliant. He could manage two days away from work since one of those days would be a holiday anyway, but two weeks? How could he possibly keep the smithy closed that long? Yet what else could he do? How likely was it that he’d be able to walk back and forth between the forge and the anvil on crutches while handling metal hot enough to be malleable?

He shook his head. He’d have to take it one day at a time. Perhaps he’d recover more quickly if he was diligent in following the doctor’s orders and implementing whatever natural remedies Mrs. Williams offered. A few minutes later, he patiently listened to Helen’s admonishments to do exactly that. Quinn said his farewells and ushered his wife out of the room after urging Rhett not to worry. Mrs. Bradley bustled in to ask if he needed anything. She left a bell for him to ring if he changed his mind. Mr. Bradley gave him an old set of crutches he’d found in the attic and directions to the water closet should a trip be necessary. Finally, everyone went to bed and he was left alone with his thoughts.

They should have centered on the fire, his living situation, replacing his belongings, figuring out his work predicament or any number of things. Instead, his mind was filled with thoughts of one person—Isabelle. He punched his pillow and shifted around in a vain attempt to get comfortable. Why did he always do this to himself? Why did he always get his hopes up when he knew it never worked out? He’d truly thought this time was different. Not solely because he wasn’t nervous around her, but because she was something special.

Why hadn’t he realized that before? Perhaps he hadn’t been looking. He’d focused his attention on her sister because it had been easier to engage her interest—at least from afar. Isabelle was more of a challenge to get to know simply because she wasn’t quite as bold around men as her sister had been.

However, his relationship with Quinn and Helen had allowed him to spend more time with Isabelle. He’d found himself enjoying that time more and more.

She was interesting and witty. She didn’t mind his teasing and could give back exactly as much as he gave out. Yet, she seemed to have a sensible head on her shoulders—sensible enough to want to avoid a relationship with him. That was what she was doing, wasn’t it?

He assumed so. Although, he technically hadn’t asked to court her. She also hadn’t actually refused him. She could have easily made it clear that she would never have any feelings for him beyond friendship despite the kiss they’d shared. Instead, she’d simply changed the subject to finding him a different sweetheart—while holding his hand.

The more he thought about their conversation, the less sense it made. The more he thought about her, the less he wanted to give up on the idea of seeing where a romance with her could lead. Of course, he would never ignore the fact that she hadn’t agreed to a courtship. However, courting wasn’t the only way to get to know someone. They were living in the same house now. Surely, that would give them a chance to get to know each other better. Perhaps, after a while, she might be more open to the possibility of a courtship with him.

It seemed unlikely at this point. However, he’d do all he could to make it as difficult as possible for her to try to hand him off to someone else—even if that meant only being her friend for a while. He could be content with that. He could only hope he was right about actually having a chance with Isabelle one day.

If not, he was setting himself up for disappointment like never before.

* * *

Rhett had been right. Isabelle had no idea how to help him overcome his fear of women. She’d never call his problem that to his face. Essentially, that was what it was, though. She wished she’d been able to think of something other than courtship lessons to distract him from his interest in her. Taking responsibility for the success or failure of someone else’s love life was a lot to handle when she’d never even had one of her own.

“Is something bothering you, sweetheart?” Concern and amusement filled the Virginia drawl her mother hadn’t been able to shake after twenty-five years of living in Texas. “You’re awfully quiet this morning. Besides, if you rub that dish any harder, you’ll make a hole right through it.”

“Oh.” She glanced down at the serving plate she was drying off, then poured the scrambled eggs onto it. “It will just be extra shiny this morning, I suppose.”

Her mother’s searching blue eyes met hers. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that, don’t you?”

She knew her parents wanted her to feel that she’d be able to talk to them about anything. However, she couldn’t help feeling as though confiding in them would be dangerous. For instance, did they really want to know that she’d kissed a man on a rooftop last night? The same man, by the way, who was now occupying her father’s study? Absolutely, they would want to know that. What would it get them once they knew? A bunch of worry and anger, that was all. Rhett would end up on the street. Isabelle would end up in Virginia.

“Isabelle?”

Her gaze refocused on Beatrice’s. Thankfully, her father provided a timely distraction by entering the kitchen without his spectacles and with his vest unbuttoned. “I was getting dressed when I thought I heard Violet crying in her room. I asked her what was wrong through the door. She said something about her hair looking horrid and her dress being dumb. All I know is she’s going to be late for her book-club party, and I’m going to be late for my meeting at the hotel if she doesn’t come out of her room soon.”

Isabelle frowned then glanced at her mother. “Ma, you know I’m no good with hair. Amy always did mine for special occasions. Violet’s been so excited about wearing it up for the first time. I’d hate to bungle it.”

“Oh, dear.” Beatrice wiped her hands on her apron then removed it entirely and placed it on the hook beside the door. “I’d better go see what I can do. Thomas, you need to finish getting dressed so you’ll be ready to go when she is. Isabelle...”

Isabelle followed her mother’s gaze toward the breakfast they’d prepared. “I can handle this.”

Her mother gave her a grateful smile on the way out the door. Already buttoning his vest, her father followed Beatrice out. Isabelle was left to pull in a deep breath and figure out what was left to be done to get breakfast on the buffet for the boarders who should be wandering downstairs within the next few minutes. She’d just placed the last biscuit in a serving bowl when a knock sounded on the kitchen door that led to the dining room. She turned in time to see two of the boarders enter. “What are y’all doing in here?”

Hank Abernathy, a clerk at the hotel, grinned unashamedly. “We saw Mrs. Bradley go into the family wing of the house and thought you might need help carrying food into the dining room.”

“I’m surprised at you boys.” She crossed her arms and lifted a brow. “Y’all know the rules. Absolutely no boarders allowed in my ma’s kitchen.”

Peter Engel, who worked in the telegraph office, blushed bright red. He lowered his gaze to the floor as though wishing it would swallow him whole. Unable to let him suffer for long, Isabelle allowed a smile to warm her voice. “Now, take this food and get out.”

Peter’s head shot up. Hank chuckled as he stepped forward to take the serving plate filled with eggs and bacon along with a bowl of fruit. She gave Peter the pancakes and biscuits before following behind the men with the steaming carafe of coffee. Wesley Brice entered the room from the hallway as they placed the food on the large oak sideboard buffet. “What’s all this?”

She gave him a cheery smile but the Texas and Pacific Railway worker was too busy frowning at the other boarders to notice. “It’s breakfast.”

“I meant the rule breaking.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Good morning to you, too, Wes.”

“Mrs. Bradley was busy,” Peter said, standing frozen with a serving spoon of fruit hovering above his plate. “Isabelle needed help.”

“She kicked us out of the kitchen right quick, too. She just sent the food with us on our way out.”

“Yes, but I forgot a few things. I’ll be right back.” Isabelle returned to the dining room a few moments later with butter, syrup, cream and sugar.

Wes poured exactly the right amount of cream and sugar into a cup of coffee before giving it to her. He then handed the cream to Hank and the sugar to Peter since they were already sitting down. Returning both items to the sideboard, he met Isabelle’s gaze with concern. “Where did you disappear to last night?”

A sudden vision filled her mind of Rhett’s amber gaze catching hers as they whirled around each other on a rooftop beneath a million stars. She shook it away and glanced back at Wes. Mindful that the other boarders were listening, she stalled to gather her thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“One second you were dancing with Mark Antony. The next, you were gone.”

“Oh. Well, Mark turned out to be Chris.” She paused to blow on the steam from her coffee as Wes grimaced, Peter lifted a brow and Hank shook his head in sympathy. The boarders always seemed to be around when her sister’s suitors decided to try to pay her court. It was downright embarrassing having an audience for those types of things. “Then, John Merriweather decided to cut in. Chris wouldn’t have it. They started arguing, so I left them on the dance floor.”

Hank toasted her with his coffee cup. “Good for you. I see why you would’ve wanted to make yourself scarce after that. You should have come to one of us, though. We would have been glad to dance with you.”

“Too glad, maybe,” Wes muttered as he threw a meaningful glance toward Hank and began to fill a plate with food.

Gabriel Noland must have heard the conversation out in the hall for he sent Isabelle a sympathetic glance as he entered the room. “I’m surprised Isabelle got to dance at all with you three standing around like guard dogs.”

Isabelle seized the opportunity to change the subject to something that might ease the odd tension filling the room. “And what were you doing all evening, Gabe?”

“I thought you might want to see.” He handed her the sketch pad that had been tucked beneath his arm. “The latest ones are near the back. I stayed up almost all night finishing them.”

Sitting in the nearest chair, she set her coffee on the table and wiped her hands on a napkin before flipping to the back of the book. Images from the previous night filled each page in startling detail since each could have only lasted a few moments at most. She was aware of Gabe taking the seat beside her, but didn’t bother to look up. The boarders had moved on to talking about the fire and Rhett coming to stay with them. She figured as long as she looked busy, no one would ask her any more questions that she’d rather not answer.

She froze as she recognized the tableau playing out before her on a page of the sketch pad. It featured her caught in the throes of indecision. Her hand was in the grasp of Mark Antony, who bowed over it with old-world elegance. Meanwhile, her gaze and attention were consumed by the pirate behind him. There was a shared longing on their faces that surely couldn’t have been there last night. Isabelle almost jumped at the sound of her father’s voice. “Are those your sketches from last night, Gabe?”

She casually turned back to a much less incriminating sketch of someone else as her father stepped up behind her. She lifted her gaze to Gabe’s, suddenly aware he’d been watching her reaction. Gabe smiled. “Yes, I think I’ll get several good paintings from my efforts last night.”

Her eyes widened then narrowed into warning slits. “In that case, why don’t I put this somewhere safe for you? We wouldn’t want it to get stained by being around all this food.”

“I’ll sit on it. How’s that?”

She had the distinct urge to pop him over the head with it. Gabe had no idea how blessed he was that her mother entered the room to distract her father with the news that Violet was ready to go. Beatrice decided to take a breakfast tray to Rhett. Isabelle would have volunteered to do it in her stead, but didn’t have the nerve to suggest it in front of Gabe. The boarders lingered over breakfast since none of them had to rush to work on a holiday. However, once the plates were taken to the kitchen, they all slipped away to their various amusements outside the house.

With the dishes washed, Beatrice pulled out her baking supplies. “Poor Rhett must be bored to tears in the study by now. Why don’t you play a game of spades with him or something? Be sure to leave the door open. I’ll join y’all in a little while. I want to whip up some plum pudding and a bit of wassail in case we get any callers.”

“All right, Ma. Let me know if you change your mind about wanting my help in here.” Isabelle removed her apron and gathered a deck of cards from the parlor. She was right about to knock on the study door when the front door opened and Violet walked into the foyer. Isabelle changed course to greet her. “Violet, how was your literary circle’s New Year’s Breakfast?”

“Positively exquisite.” The fifteen-year-old’s blue eyes danced as she removed her hat and scarf. “We’ve decided we’re going to have one every year.”

“And how did your hair turn out?”

Violet spun to show off the elaborate chignon. “What do you think of it?”

Isabelle winked. “Gorgeous, darling.”

“I’m almost glad Ma and Pa said I can only wear it up for special occasions. All these pins digging into my brain...” She gave a little shudder before shrugging out of a familiar navy coat.

Isabelle frowned. “I thought you were going to wear your new coat? It’s so much nicer than this old one. It was Amy’s first, you know—”

“Oh!” Eyes wide, Violet turned to stare at the floor by the front desk. “Oh!”

“What?”

Violet dropped to her knees by the coatrack. Her hands swept back and forth across the floor as she crawled toward the front desk. Isabelle watched mutely then glanced around to make sure that no one else was around to see her little sister’s strange behavior. “Violet?”

“Isabelle!”

Holding back a laugh, Isabelle knelt beside the desk. “What are you doing?”

“Did you find it?” Violet crawled from beneath the desk to search her eyes. “Did you find Ma’s bracelet—the one she lent you to wear to the masquerade?”

“Ma’s bracelet?” Isabelle glanced down at her bare wrist, remembering seeing Rhett push back the extra length of his coat sleeve to reveal the bracelet. She recalled the soft imprint of it upon her skin as he smoothed closed the clasp that had eased open without her realizing it. She couldn’t remember anything about it after that. She slowly shook her head. “I haven’t seen it since last night.”

Violet groaned. “Isabelle, I’ve done something terrible. Truly, I have. I was going to wear my new coat this morning, but Pa said it was too thin since it’s really only supposed to be a raincoat. He said I’d catch cold and made me come back inside to change. I didn’t want to go all the way to my room for my other coat, so I took yours.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“The bracelet was caught inside your sleeve. It fell out when I put your coat on. It slid across the floor and lodged halfway under the desk. I was in such a rush that I didn’t stop to pick it up. I just...left it there thinking no one would see it. I planned to get it as soon as I came back. Now it’s gone.”

A cold, sinking feeling settled in Isabelle’s stomach. “No, it has to be here somewhere.”

They searched every inch of space in the foyer but found no trace of the bracelet. Isabelle caught her sister’s hands to still their wringing. “Calm down, Vi. We need to think this through.”

“There’s nothing to think through. Bracelets don’t disappear. Someone must have taken it. It had to be one of the boarders.”

Isabelle shook her head. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“Well, I don’t have it. Neither do you. Pa left the house before I did. He hasn’t returned yet, so he couldn’t have taken it. Rhett can hardly walk. What about Ma? Have you been with her the whole time?”

“No. She brought Rhett his breakfast and retrieved the tray. Perhaps she found it.”

“Then wouldn’t she have mentioned it?”

Isabelle frowned. “Probably, but we should check her jewelry box to be certain.”

“And if it isn’t there?”

“Maybe whoever took it will return it. Meanwhile, we can’t let our parents find out about this. Or anyone else for that matter.”

Rhett’s voice filled the hallway. “Why is that exactly?”

Gasping, Isabelle whirled to find him balancing against the doorpost of the study with curiosity wrinkling his brow. She glanced back to exchange a panicked look with her sister. Violet recovered first. With a quick glance toward the kitchen, she caught Isabelle’s arm and towed her across the hall toward Rhett so they could speak more quietly. “Because if our parents find out there’s a thief in the boardinghouse, we might as well kiss Peppin goodbye.”

Concern filled Rhett’s eyes as he turned to Isabelle for confirmation. “You’d have to leave town?”

She nodded. “After Amy’s elopement, they said if anything else goes wrong, they’re going to sell the boardinghouse and move us back to Virginia, where they’re originally from.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” He frowned. “We need to figure out who took the bracelet and find a way to get it back.”

Violet wrinkled her nose. “How are we going to do that?”

“First off, y’all had better check your ma’s jewelry box like you said. The other thing we need to do is to keep a close watch for anyone behaving oddly or guiltily. Y’all would be better judges than me on that since I don’t know the other boarders well. Let’s see how all of that works out, and we’ll go from there.”

Isabelle nodded, then blinked, unsure of how “we” suddenly included him. She wouldn’t complain, though. Having him on their side was far better than letting him tell their parents about the missing bracelet the first chance he got. She could only hope that the three of them would be able to curtail this problem before it became a situation requiring her parents’ attention. The last thing she wanted to do was, as Violet had put it, kiss the boardinghouse and Peppin goodbye.

Of its own accord, her gaze drifted to Rhett’s smile. She shook her head to keep her thoughts from straying where they didn’t need to go. He caught her gaze and his eyes seemed to darken. She swallowed hard. She’d get the bracelet back, find Rhett someone else to court and her life would go back to normal. End of story.