Jack tugged on Regina’s skirt. “What game is he talking about, Aunt Reggie?”
She shot Adam a displeased schoolmarm look before she smiled down at her nephew. “Mr. Barr was teasing, Jack. He didn’t mean a game the way you think of one. Don’t pay him any mind.”
Laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder, she faced Adam again. “If you’re really interested in helping, you can disassemble the table once Ira clears it. Ira can show you where we stow the boards and sawhorses.”
“Of course,” he said. But he was talking to her back. She’d already started gathering the discarded dishes.
Twenty minutes later, Adam unrolled his sleeves. Under Regina’s watchful eyes, the cleanup had been completed in less time than he would have imagined. Other than a few trampled flowers near the porch, the large backyard no longer showed any traces of the festivities that had taken place earlier.
Everett sat on one of the steps of the wraparound porch, leaning lazily back against the rail. Mitchell stood by the back door, helping Mrs. Peavy fill a large washtub on the kitchen porch. Chance, with Jack at his side, had finally managed to approach Buck on civil, if not friendly, terms.
Regina marched toward the back porch, toting a large basket loaded with dirty dishes.
Adam moved to intercept her. “Here, let me take that.”
He thought for a moment she would refuse.
Then she nodded. “Thank you.” She handed him the basket and immediately moved away. “Let me grab those two cups from over there and we can take them inside.”
A large kettle of water simmered on the stove. It filled the small, cozy kitchen with a humid heat that pounced on them as soon as they entered the room. Adam saw the stray tendrils at her nape slowly but defiantly coil into springlike curls, saw the moisture sheen on her face like a damp mask.
She glanced his way and nodded toward the kettle. “If you don’t mind, could you pour that into the basin here? Then we can set these dishes to soaking.”
Adam nodded and set the basket on the table. This stiff formality had him on edge. He felt he should say something, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what.
As soon as he emptied the kettle, Regina placed the two glasses she held into the hot water. She reached for the basket to take care of the others, but Adam stopped her. “Here, let me hand them to you.”
She nodded and without a word, they emptied the basket.
This is ridiculous. This isn’t a two-person job. I should just get out of the way and let her finish up, or send her away and do it myself.
But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Besides, they were almost done now.
When she reached for the final dish, though, her wet hands failed to get a good hold. As she bobbled the cup, Adam reached over and grasped both the cup and her hands between his own.
Her gaze jerked up to his and for a moment they stood there, frozen. Her dragon’s scale eyes darkened until they were almost deep purple, and a small muscle quivered at her throat.
She’d said she believed him innocent.
She knew he liked strawberry tarts.
His grip tightened on her hands. Was the rapid pulse beat he felt coming from his veins or hers?
“What do you think you’re doing?”
At Mrs. Peavy’s sternly uttered question, Adam jerked his hands back and the cup went crashing to the floor.
Regina bent to pick up the pieces, but not before he saw the flush climb into her cheeks.
“I thought I’d help clean the dishes.” Her voice sounded almost composed.
“So I see,” Mrs. Peavy said dryly. “Now, you two get out of my kitchen before you break the rest of the china.” She emphasized her words with shooing motions. “I’ll take care of this mess. You have guests you should see to.”
* * *
Reggie was more than happy to escape the too-close confines of the kitchen. With a nod, she deposited the broken bits of china on the counter and wiped her hands on a dry dish rag. “If you don’t want our help, we’ll leave it to you. But you know very well those gentlemen out there are not really my guests.”
She moved to the back door that Adam already held open for her. “As it happens, though, there are a few things I’d like to discuss with our friends from Philadelphia.”
Reggie stepped outside and immediately put some distance between herself and Adam.
She drew a deep breath, trying to clear her senses along with the humid air from her lungs. What had happened in there a moment ago? It had been the same as the time Adam caught her in that near-fall back at the cabin two days ago.
She might as well face the truth. Something about Adam Barr still touched her on a level she couldn’t fight. He remained the white knight of her dreams, a knight whose armor was tarnished but who continued to fight the good fight.
Any unexpected touch from him did something to her, scrambled her senses in a way she didn’t like at all. She could not afford to feel those things.
Especially not now, when she needed her wits about her more than ever.
What had she been thinking? She should never have said all those things to him. It gave him an unfair advantage over her, revealed too much about how she felt.
Well, if he tried to use that against her, he was going to be disappointed. She was no simpering debutante. She might be attracted to him, but that attraction wasn’t so potent that she couldn’t resist.
Reggie lifted her head, feeling more in control.
Mr. Fulton and Chance were just as she’d left them. Mr. Parker had strolled over to the oak tree and was deep in conversation with Ira.
“Mr. Barr,” she said, careful to keep her tone formal, “I’d be obliged if you’d gather up Chance and Mr. Parker and join me and Mr. Fulton on the side porch.”
“Of course.”
Everett stood as she approached.
His movements conveyed a practiced ease, his smile a cynical humor. “Allow me to compliment you on the success of your soiree. I suppose this is the kind of social highlight I can look forward to reporting on in upcoming editions of the Turnabout Gazette.”
Reggie took a seat on a comfortable chair and arranged her skirt. “Don’t worry, Mr. Fulton. There will be all sorts of news to fill your society pages—barn raisings, church socials, quilting bees, the monthly dance in the town square.” She paused a moment. “And then, of course, there’s the occasional wedding to look forward to.”
Was that a wince? If so, he recovered quickly. “It sounds like Turnabout is veritable whirl of social activity.”
Before she could respond, the other men joined them.
“Well, do you think we passed muster with your neighbors?” Chance asked.
“They seemed quite impressed,” Reggie responded. She placed a finger to her chin as if remembering something. “Of course they had that same reaction when a medicine show came through with a trained bear last month.”
Far from taking offense, Chance’s eyes lit up. “Now that must have been something to see.”
Reggie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Mercy, but this one really was young.
Her gaze met Adam’s and she saw that same sentiment in his expression.
“Ah, yes,” Everett drawled, pulling her gaze back to him, “another of the cultural delights one can look forward to as part of life in Turnabout.”
“Very true. If my grandfather led you to believe otherwise, I’m afraid you were misinformed. No one would blame a man of your obvious refinement if you just packed up your bags and returned to Philadelphia.”
He raised his brow and gave her a knowing smile. “On the contrary, I will consider it part of my service to this community to introduce an element of sophistication and artistic enlightenment to their lives.”
Oh, but it was going to be satisfying to take this one down a peg or two. “How charitable of you to take us heathens under your wing.”
Mitchell cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should discuss what our
next steps are.”
* * *
Adam leaned back against the porch support. Regardless of what had passed between him and Regina, he still had a job to perform, and as she had so eloquently pointed out, he would do it.
“Excellent idea,” Regina said, answering Mitchell’s suggestion. “I think we’ve made a good first impression. Still, for this whirlwind courtship to be convincing, it’s important that we be seen spending as much time together as possible without causing an outright scandal.”
Adam found her attitude amusing. “I assume you have something specific in mind.”
“Of course. Starting tomorrow, you are all hereby invited to take your suppers here with us. That will allow us to be in each other’s company at least once each day. It will also give Jack a chance to get better acquainted with you, and you with him.”
She glanced Adam’s way. “That includes you. Even if you’re not a participant in this lottery, we should keep up appearances that we’re all one happy group of friends.”
Adam nodded. “I’d be honored.”
She gave him a searching look, then turned back to the others. “And in case you were wondering, I was being polite when I said this was an invitation. I expect you to be here unless we agree to different plans ahead of time.” Then she smiled. “But don’t worry, you’ll find Mrs. Peavy sets a much better table than anything you’ll get at Mrs. Ortolon’s.”
“Is that it?” Adam knew it wasn’t, but he wasn’t above giving her the cues she needed.
“Of course not. That only covers our group time. I’ll also need to be seen with each of my beaus individually so it appears there’s some actual courting going on.”
She spread her hands. “Folks’ll naturally make allowances for a bit of strangeness since you all are from back East, but we need to make your actions seem as reasonable as possible. I’ve given this a great deal of thought.”
I’ll just bet you have, Adam thought.
“What I’ve come up with isn’t perfect, but I trust you’ll all do your part to make it work. It’s the best I could do with such short notice.”
The look she threw Adam’s way seemed to blame him for her lack of adequate planning time.
She turned to Mitchell. “I’m guessing you’re not a stranger to hard work. There are a number of repairs that are needed here at the house—shingles need replacing, the workshed needs painting, the fence needs work. I’ve been meaning to have it all taken care of for some time. I’ve even gotten the needed supplies. But Ira gets insulted every time I mention hiring it out.”
She stroked her chin with her forefinger. “However, should a friend of the family volunteer to lend a hand, I’m sure Ira would be grateful for the help. As, of course, would I.”
Everett spoke up before Mitchell could respond. “Miss Nash, were you under the impression that we were sent here to be slave laborers for you?”
Adam suspected Everett wasn’t so much outraged on Mitchell’s behalf as he was worried he’d be assigned a similar role.
“I’m under the impression, Mr. Fulton, that my grandfather sent you here to impress me with your ability to provide for myself and Jack. Fancy back-east manners, pretty words and even a plum position in the community aren’t enough—at least not for me.”
She lifted her chin. “But, please wait your turn. I believe I was speaking to Mr. Parker.”
Mitchell nodded. “I’ll be glad to help. I’m not much for just sitting around anyway. I’d welcome some physical activity to keep me occupied over the coming days.”
“Good.”
Regina swung around to face Chance, and the young man drew himself up as if facing a judge in court.
Adam caught an annoyed expression on Everett’s face. Was she deliberately making him wait until last?
“The members of our congregation are trying to raise funds to replace our church organ. One thing we’re planning to accomplish this is a fair. Among other things, I’m working with the committee that’s planning activities for the children. I would be pleased to have you volunteer to lend a hand with that.”
Chance frowned. “Why certainly, if you want me to. But I don’t know anything about entertaining children.”
“Don’t be modest,” Everett said in mock-camaraderie. “It hasn’t been all that long since you were playing tag with your chums yourself.”
Chance’s eyes narrowed and his hands clenched, but before he could do more, Regina intervened. “Don’t worry about lack of experience, Chance,” she reassured. “Others will do most of the planning. You’ll just be there to help out.”
With a firmly planted smile she turned to Everett. “Now, Mr. Fulton, shall we discuss your role?”
“Saved the best for last, did you?” The bravado in his tone would have been convincing but for the apprehension shadowing his smile.
“You might say that. As a reporter, you’re going to develop a keen interest in my photography work. So much so, that you’re going to volunteer to accompany me and lend a hand on several outdoor sessions I have scheduled over the coming days.”
Immediately the apprehension disappeared to be replaced by relief. “An admirable plan,” Everett agreed.
“Is that it?” Chance asked in disgust. “Seems to me he’s getting off mighty easy.”
Reggie raised a brow. “Do you find my plans for you unpleasant, Chance?”
The would-be businessman flushed. “No, ma’am. It’s just that—”
She wagged a finger at him. “Don’t concern yourself with the assignments I’ve handed out to the others. As I said, I’ve given this lots of thought and I’m certain you’ll find it’s pretty evenhanded in the end.”
Adam suspected Everett wouldn’t be getting off as lightly as he imagined.
She included them all in her glance again. “Now, does anyone have questions?”
Mitchell raised a hand. “When would you like me to get started, and what do I tackle first?”
“Your enthusiasm is commendable, Mr. Parker, but there’s no need to start right away. Check with Ira and see what works best for him. In fact, I’d like to take you down to the schoolhouse tomorrow morning and let you see how the construction is progressing.”
He nodded. “It would be my pleasure. Shall I meet you here at, say, nine-thirty?”
“Nine-thirty would be fine.”
Regina turned to Everett. “I’ll be visiting the Keeter family at their farm east of town tomorrow afternoon. I believe that would be an ideal time to have you begin assisting me.”
He executed a theatrical bow. “My time is yours to command.”
She stood. “Chance, we’ll discuss your role further after supper tomorrow evening. Now, if you will excuse me, it’s been a long day. I’d like to change out of these fancy duds and spend some time doing something I actually enjoy this afternoon.”
Nothing equivocal about that dismissal. Adam took his leave with the others, but parted company with them at the front gate, heading toward a country lane he’d spied earlier.
He had some thinking to do and it was best done alone.
He’d come close to letting things get away from him in the kitchen. No doubt his slip was due in part to their earlier conversation.
She wasn’t even the kind of girl he was normally attracted to. There was nothing polished or refined about the judge’s granddaughter—in fact, just the opposite.
But as contrary and infuriating as she was, that can’t-keep-me-down spirit appealed to him in spite of himself. And her efforts to hide those flashes of vulnerability that occasionally showed through touched him in a way that weepy, hand-wringing, damsel-in-distress tactics never would.
But he had to remember that he was here to see her married to one of the others, not entangle his own life with hers.
Adam bent to pick up a pebble, then flung it with as much force as he could summon. Why had the judge picked him for this assignment?
Then he straightened. “Why” didn’t matter. The judge had selected
him and that was that. There was no way that he was going to betray the trust of the one man who had stood by him these past six years.
He’d endured squalid living conditions, back-breaking forced labor, sadistic guards and dangerous cellmates without letting it crush his spirit or his body.
Surely he could survive a few weeks spent with this one spirited female.
Couldn’t he?
Chapter Nine
Reggie, now comfortably attired in a worn but serviceable dress, stepped inside her studio to find Ira there ahead of her.
“That was quite a shindig you threw,” he said, opening the curtains to let more light into the spacious ground floor room. “Folks’ll be talking about it for days to come.”
“They’ll be talking about our friends from Philadelphia, you mean.”
Ira cut her a probing glance. “They all seem nice enough. You could do worse in a husband.”
Reggie groaned. “Not you, too? You know as well as I do that it has nothing to do with what sort of men they are. Even if Grandfather had sent Prince Charming himself, I’d still refuse. Marriage just isn’t for me.”
“Seems your granddaddy has a different opinion. Can’t say as I disagree with him, either.”
Why was Ira talking this way? He knew how she felt about this and why. “I’m not marrying anyone, and that’s that.”
Ready to change the subject, she glanced around and wrinkled her nose. “This place could do with the services of a broom and dust rag.”
Ira gave her a hard look, then followed her lead. “We were gone for over a week.”
Relieved that he’d backed down for now, Reggie set her handbag on the counter. “True. Which do you want—broom or dust rag?”
Ira shook his head. “It’s still Sunday. The cleaning will keep ’til tomorrow.” He made shooing motions. “Get yourself on upstairs. You know good and well you won’t be no good for anything else with your mind on them photographs.”
Reggie laughed and held up her hands. “All right.” But instead of going upstairs immediately, she stood there, chewing on her lower lip.
“So,” she said casually, “what do you think of our visitors?”
Handpicked Husband (Love Inspired Historical) Page 11