The Bridal Swap. Karen Kirst
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like satin. One gold filigree ring adorned the fourth finger of her right hand. They were the hands of a privileged lady, unblemished by hard work.
How would he handle the strain of seeing Francesca’s sister every day? Reminding him of all he’d lost. And the gossip her presence would stir up …
Undoubtedly, he was going to be the subject of a lot of talk. That’s simply the way things worked in small towns. Wasn’t every day a man’s fiancée up and married someone else.
“Are you ready for that tour?” He pushed back his chair.
She hesitated. “If you have something you’d rather do, I can entertain myself. I brought quite a collection of books with me, as well as my harp. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“You brought your harp?” Who traveled with musical instruments? He’d never understand the whims of the wealthy.
“It’s a Celtic harp, small enough to hold on my lap. I’ve played for many years. The music soothes me.”
“I know what you mean,” he said, surprised they had something in common. “About the soothing part. I play the fiddle.”
“Oh?” Interest stirred in her expression. “I would like to hear you play sometime. Fran didn’t mention that you played an instrument.”
“That’s because I didn’t tell her.”
One pitfall of relationships conducted at a distance was that important details were often overlooked or left out entirely. In Francesca’s case, details like another suitor. Thoughts of her with another man churned up unpleasant emotions. The betrayal affected him deeply. If and when he ever decided to court another lady, he’d be certain to keep things simple.
And the lady sitting across from him was anything but.
Chapter Four
Strolling about the O’Malley farm, Kate’s gaze was drawn repeatedly to her handsome guide. Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, showering patches of light on the navy cotton shirt stretched taut across his back and shoulders. Josh’s rich drawl made each word sound like a caress. Listening to him explain the names and uses of each structure lulled her into a state of contentment.
He’d spoken hesitantly at first, his expression guarded, as if he expected her to be bored. Her many questions had brought about a change in his tone and manner, however. He was clearly proud of his family’s farm. And from what she’d seen, he had reason to be.
She surveyed her surroundings with a practiced eye. People back home would enjoy seeing these rural images. The wealthy would use them as a guide to plan sojourns to the mountains. Those who couldn’t afford to visit would at least be able to glimpse the beauty of East Tennessee. She could hardly wait to get started!
Kate found the workings of a farm fascinating. Here people had to be self-sufficient, working with the land and its offerings to provide for their needs.
She would never tell him Francesca would’ve been less than thrilled with her new home. No doubt, she would’ve taken one look and hightailed it back to the city.
Pushing away from the corn crib, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “All that’s left to show you is the apple house.”
“Apple house?” Five rows deep, the orchard fanned out in both directions behind him. There wasn’t a building in sight.
“It’s where we store the apples we don’t immediately use.” He extended his arm. “The ground is uneven in places. I wouldn’t want you to stumble and fall.”
She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, his muscled forearm bunching beneath her fingers. They strolled at an even pace to the orchard. A gentle breeze stirred the trees, carrying with it the fragrant, tangy scent of the fruit hanging from the branches.
“I don’t see a house.”
He pointed to the steep hillside beyond the trees. “Look there. See the door?”
Squinting, she could just make out a low roofline and a child-size door. “It looks like a child’s playhouse.”
He laughed. “Come, I’ll show you.”
As they drew closer, she saw that it had been built into the hillside and only the front facade of stone and timber was visible. When she questioned him, he said it was to maintain the temperature inside at an even level and thus keep the apples from spoiling. Again, she was impressed by the family’s ingenuity.
Using his shoulder, he edged open the door. With a flourish of his hand, he said, “Ladies first.”
She bit her lip. From where she was standing, the interior looked awfully dark and cavelike. But he was waiting patiently, assessing her with those intense blue eyes.
She didn’t have to stay inside, she reasoned. What could a quick peek hurt?
Drawing a deep breath, Kate stepped through the doorway, bowing her head to avoid the low crossbeam. Cool, musky air filled her nostrils. Stacks of empty baskets filled the long, narrow space.
It wasn’t so bad.
Then Josh came in behind her, his body blocking out the light.
Her heart tripped inside her chest. Nausea threatened, and she felt strangely light-headed.
Memories from the past swept over her, and spinning on her heel, she collided with his solid chest. “Please, I need to get out.”
His hands came up to steady her. “What’s wrong?”
Without answering, she ducked beneath his arm and shot out the door. Once again in the open field, she sucked in a lungful of air. Please don’t pass out. Pressing a palm against her clammy forehead, she willed herself to remain calm.
“Hey.” He came abreast of her, his hand cupping her upper arm. “You’re as white as a sheet. Let’s go over here and sit for a spell.”
Kate leaned on his strength as he guided her to a fallen log beneath a nearby apple tree. He helped her settle, then sat close beside her. She couldn’t dwell on his nearness, only her acute embarrassment.
What must he think of her?
“I—I’m all right now.”
“What happened back there?” he prompted, his voice thick with concern. “Did I do something to make you uneasy?”
“No, it wasn’t you.” Eyes downcast, she plucked at the ruffles on her sleeve. “I don’t like small, confined spaces. I tend to panic, as you’ve just witnessed.” Her heart rate was slowing to normal, the nausea fading.
“I wouldn’t have insisted on your going inside had I known. I’m sorry.”
She shifted her gaze to his hands, resting on his knees. Tanned and smooth, they were strong, capable hands.
“It wasn’t your fault. I knew better.”
“Have you always felt this way?”
No, not always. “For a long time, yes.” Please just leave it at that.
He was quiet. Then, reaching up to the limb suspended above their heads, he plucked two apples and offered her one. “Feel like eating something? The natural sugar might put some color back into your cheeks.”
She met his assessing gaze and got lost in the blue depths. The quirk of his lips in a friendly smile broke the spell.
Accepting the fruit, she balanced it in the palms of her hands, wondering how she’d be able to eat it without making a mess of herself and her outfit. Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten an uncut apple since she was a little girl. It was one of those simple acts classified as unladylike. A young lady of her social standing should never appear less than picture-perfect.
Beside her, Josh was already enjoying his.