The Texan's Courtship Lessons. Noelle Marchand
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words after the explosion. I’m not leaving you, Isabelle. Her mouth fell open. He’d known who she was. For how long, though? Since before the kiss? Surely not or he wouldn’t have instigated it in the first place. Quinn’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced up at him, not liking the thoughtful, speculative look in his eyes one iota. “Isabelle, maybe you’d have more success in convincing him to sit down and let Doc take a look at his ankle.”
“I doubt it, but I’ll try.”
He wasn’t in the bucket brigade anymore, but one of the other men was kind enough to point her in the right direction. She was glad to find Rhett off his ankle even if it was only because he had to kneel to work the handle of one of the town’s outdoor water pumps. He didn’t seem to hear her call his name as he determinedly filled buckets for the other men. She placed a hand on his shoulder only for him to shrug it off without looking. “For the last time, Quinn—”
“Rhett.”
He glanced up. His eyes widened then filled with warmth. He released the handle of the pump. Someone else immediately took his place as he struggled to his feet. His ankle gave way as soon as he put weight on it. Isabelle quickly slipped an arm around his waist to brace him. “You need to let Doc look at your ankle. Let’s find you someplace to rest then I’ll go get him.”
His lips pressed together in a grim line, but he agreed with a single nod. She guided him toward an out-of-the-way spot nearby. He put his arm around her shoulder, but barely put any weight on her as he limped toward the raised wooden sidewalk nearby. He gave one final hop then turned to sit down. Catching her hand before she could leave, he tugged it gently. “Wait. Sit with me for a minute.”
A protest rose to her lips. Then she looked into his eyes. She saw the intensity there. She realized he wasn’t trying to put off being seen by the doctor. He wanted to talk about their kiss. What was there to say? It had been a simple New Year’s Eve kiss between friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
Then why were her cheeks burning? Why was her heart fluttering? Why was panic seeping through her body? She pushed away those emotions with a lift of her chin as she lowered her gaze from his to their joined hands. His grasp was gentle, easily breakable. Yet, it held her like a butterfly caught in a net. “Rhett, we don’t have to talk about this.”
“I think we should.”
She glanced around to make sure no one was within listening distance before sitting beside him on the sidewalk. “It was merely a kiss. A simple mistake prompted by a silly tradition. I don’t expect anything more to happen between us. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“You don’t expect anything more or you don’t want anything more?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes. A big one. I didn’t expect to kiss you tonight. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to or wouldn’t want to again.”
Her mouth fell open. “Rhett Granger, I’m surprised at you. If you think—”
“Well, good. I’m surprised at myself, too. You saw me with Amy. I was constantly tripping over myself, saying all the wrong things, outright panicking. I’m always like that when things turn romantic, but that hasn’t happened tonight with you.” His amber gaze captured hers, his bemusement obvious. “Not even before the kiss. Not even now. I was hoping that meant something.”
She stared at him as disappointment battled for dominance with whatever strange emotion made her heart flutter. She’d intended to write the kiss off as a mistake, hoping it didn’t mean exactly what he was saying it did—Rhett was no different that her sister’s other suitors, or her parents, or the town. He saw her as nothing more than a substitute for the woman he’d loved and lost to another man. Only this was even worse because he seemed to particularly appreciate the fact that he didn’t find her as attractive as he had Amy. What other explanation could there be for why he didn’t get as nervous around her as he did with someone he was actually attracted to?
He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair as some of his boldness faded into a bashful smile. “Besides that, I thought tonight was pretty special—before the explosion.”
Her heart softened at his words. She didn’t want to admit it, but there was no denying it. “It was special.”
Unfortunately, that didn’t change anything. As flattering as his interest was and as sincere as he seemed to be in comparison to her sister’s other former suitors, she would still never be Amy—the one he truly wanted. She wasn’t even the mysterious Cleopatra he’d approached in the ballroom last night. She was simply boring, ordinary Isabelle. Once he figured that out, he was bound to be disappointed. She’d save them both a world of trouble by putting a stop to this right here and now.
Yet, how could she while looking straight into the hope in his eyes? Besides that, he was still in the midst of losing his home. It didn’t seem fair or kind to rebuff him right now. If only there was a way to help him find the relationship he was seeking—one that didn’t involve her. She froze as a sudden flash of insight showed her a perfect way to help him and distract him from any ideas he might have about her.
“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