Handpicked Husband (Love Inspired Historical)

by Griggs, Winnie

  Ira cocked a shaggy eyebrow. “Well now, that depends. Do you mean as individuals, as perspective fathers for Jack, or as perspective husbands for you?”

  She fiddled with a button on her dress, not quite meeting his gaze. “All of the above, I suppose.”

  “Well, they all four show potential, though each in a different way.”

  “Four?” She glanced up in surprise. “You forget, Mr. Barr is only here as an observer.”

  Ira shook his head. “I didn’t forget. You just asked me what I thought of the visitors, not of your suitors.”

  She looked away, nudging her purse until it was centered on the counter. “Did you know Mr. Barr spent time in prison?”

  “Something about stealing company funds, wasn’t it? If I recollect right, your granddaddy came out solidly on Mr. Barr’s side.” He gave her a pointed look. “And I also seem to remember a certain young lady following the case about as close as anyone could from hundreds of miles away.”

  “He was found guilty.”

  “True. Served his time, though. Paid his debt to society. Seems like he deserves a fresh start.”

  She straightened. “Be that as it may, he’s not one of the suitors, nor does he seem to want to be.”

  Forcing a cheerful smile, she crossed the room. “Don’t feel you need to stick around here on my account. I know the way home.”

  Ira nodded. “Okay. But if you’re not back at the house by supper time I’m coming back to fetch you.”

  With a wave Reggie headed upstairs, shaking off the unexpected flash of moodiness. As she stepped into the mostly open second floor, the old feeling of anticipation hit her.

  Most folks wrinkled their noses at the chemical scent permeating the place, but not Reggie. To her it was the smell of coming home, of the childhood she’d spent watching her father at work.

  Humming, she reached for the thick, stained smock she wore over her clothes. She couldn’t wait to see how her latest batch of photographs turned out.

  Sometime later, Reggie stepped back and studied her work laid out on the drying trays. All in all, not a bad collection of work. The pictures ranged from passing fair to downright wonderful, if she did say so herself.

  And one in particular—Reggie stepped over to study it again. Yep—absolutely stunning. The main focus was a prickly vine adorned with three flowers. The plant itself didn’t appear remarkable, but Reggie had never seen one like it before. She always felt a rush of excitement when she stumbled on a new find. The slender vine, twined around a woody stalk of grass, was displayed to perfection, perfectly posed by nature itself.

  This was the kind of shot she lived for. It would be hard to part with it.

  With a satisfied nod, Reggie rolled her neck and shoulders, easing the stiffness from her muscles.

  She opened her workroom door, glanced at the next box of plates waiting for her, and chewed her lip indecisively. Her fingers itched to unpack the box and she actually took a few steps toward it before calling herself to task. It was getting late and she didn’t want Ira to trouble himself with coming after her.

  Humming, she began putting away the chemicals and trays she’d used. Before she’d finished, she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Oh, dear, she’d made Ira come after her after all.

  “I’ll be done in just a minute,” she called over her shoulder.

  She heard Ira cross the outer room. “Since you’re here, come take a look. I think this is the best lot yet. There’s one I’m particularly proud—”

  Her smile froze as she looked around and saw Adam in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

  He raised a brow. “Nice to see you again, too.”

  Reggie lifted her chin, refusing to let him bait her into a response.

  He shrugged. “I was out for a stroll and saw Ira headed this way.” Adam leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, managing to fill the space with his very masculine frame. “He asked me to stop in and send you home.”

  Adam looked around the small workroom, as if curious about what she did up here.

  Relieved that he’d broken eye contact, Reggie took a deep breath. Don’t think about that intense moment in the steam-filled kitchen.

  “I’m surprised. Ira knows I don’t allow gawkers up here.” Hang it all, she hadn’t meant to sound so shrewish.

  Adam gave her another of those infuriatingly amused smiles. “Apparently Ira doesn’t consider me your everyday gawker. In fact, he asked me to escort you home when you get done.”

  She’d have Ira’s head for this. “Thank you, but that’s not really necessary. I’m able to find my way home on my own.”

  “Sorry.” Adam sounded anything but. “I gave my word, so it looks like you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” He crossed his arms and managed to appear both at ease and as immovable as a well-rooted tree at the same time.

  Arguing with him would not only be pointless, but would make her seem churlish. Changing tactics, she shrugged. “All right. But be careful. These chemicals can ruin your clothes or worse if you get it on you. In fact,” she waved toward a chair on the far wall, “it would be best if you take a seat over there while I finish up.”

  Naturally he ignored her. Straightening, he moved farther into the workroom. “You mentioned something about a photograph you were proud of?”

  “Stop!” She stepped forward, blocking his progress. Too late she realized how close together that placed them. Her first instinct was to step back and put some distance between them, but instead she stood her ground. “If you’re not concerned for your own clothing or person, please have some consideration for my work.” She fervently hoped he wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in her voice.

  Adam stared into her eyes without speaking for what seemed forever. What was he thinking? If only she could believe her face reflected the same lack of emotion.

  “You think me such a clumsy oaf?”

  His mild tone threw her further off balance. Surely he wasn’t bothered by her words? “I believe this room is my domain and that you should abide by my wishes,” she said firmly.

  His lips twitched. Whether that mocking smile was directed at her or inward she couldn’t tell.

  “Very well.” Bending in a too-polite bow, Adam turned and crossed to the chair she’d indicated. Once seated, he folded his arms across his chest, stretched his legs out negligently, and crossed one booted foot over the other. Settling down, he proceeded to watch her with an air of an adult humoring a contrary child.

  Reggie turned back to her work, but she was no longer humming. She refused to glance his way, but she could feel his gaze following her every movement. It made her self-conscious, clumsy.

  It was a wonder she didn’t make a mess of things, but at last all the chemicals were properly stored, the implements cleaned and put away.

  Reggie stepped into the outer room and closed the workroom door. “Just let me put this smock away,” she said, untying the belt, “and we can go.”

  He stood, but there was nothing impatient in the gesture. “No need to rush on my account. I’ve nothing else to do.”

  Still he watched her with those penetrating eyes. Reggie was suddenly aware of how stained and ill-fitting her smock was, how mussed her hair must be, how her clothing reeked of the chemicals she had been working with.

  Then she put the steel back into her spine. What did she care? She certainly wasn’t trying to impress him with her appearance—or anything else for that matter.

  Crossing the room with firm, confident steps, Reggie hung the smock on its peg and rolled down the sleeves of her blouse. “I’m ready.”

  * * *

  Adam waffled between amusement and irritation with Regina. At least she’d quit blaming him for this heavy-handed matchmaking scheme. Now when she looked at him he didn’t see accusation and resentment, only starch and a challenge for control.

  He certainly couldn’t fault her for that.

  When they reached the staircase, instead
of escorting her down, Adam motioned to the flight leading to the floor above. “What’s up there?”

  “My private office,” she replied “There’s not a thing there that would be of interest to you, I’m sure. Now, if you don’t mind, I don’t want Mrs. Peavy to hold up supper waiting on me.”

  His curiosity was definitely piqued, but he let it go for now. “Of course. Lead the way.”

  He followed her stiff back down the stairs, then waited while she fetched her handbag from the counter before moving to open the door. “So, how much business do you actually do here?” Had her father managed to make a living at this before he died? Turnabout seemed much to small a town to make that viable.

  “Not afraid to ask personal questions, are you?”

  He smiled at her haughty tone. “Just following your lead.”

  She gave an indignant huff. “If you must know, I do well enough. Father traveled a lot, going where there were more clients, but that isn’t an option for me. So I tried a different approach. Every chance I get, I hammer home how great it is to capture special moments with a photograph. Not only for themselves, but as mementos to pass on to their children and grandchildren.”

  “Hammer home” seemed an apt phrase. Regina Nash wasn’t a subtle woman.

  “My campaigning has paid off,” she continued. “Folks don’t even think twice anymore before asking me to take photographs when there’s a wedding or christening, or even a barn raising. And I have a few folks who contact me every year, regular as clockwork, for family sittings so they can mark the changes in their children.”

  Interesting how animated she became when she was talking about this subject.

  “And then there’s my work with plants,” she continued. “The botanical journals pay nicely for the plates they use.”

  Her voice held a touch of pride. And why not? She had found a way to support her household on her own terms.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Have you reopened your law practice?”

  Was she trying to get in another jab? But there didn’t seem to be any meanness behind the question, just open curiosity.

  “Not much point in it right now.” He tried to keep the bitterness from his tone. “No one in Philadelphia wants to be represented by a convicted criminal.”

  She glanced sideways at him. “There’s nothing that says you have to stay in Philadelphia. Why not start over somewhere else?”

  “Now you sound like your grandfather.”

  She smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m not ready to leave Philadelphia yet. Not until I take care of some unfinished business.”

  “Unfinished business?”

  He gave her a direct look. “Clearing my name.”

  “Oh.”

  She didn’t say anything else for a moment, and he wondered what she was thinking.

  “I’ll pray for your success,” she said finally.

  He decided a change of subject was in order. “What do you think of your suitors so far?”

  Her lips compressed. “They seem nice enough. But, as I said before, I’m not in the market for a husband.”

  And just like that, they were out of the murky, uncomfortable quagmire her question had landed them in and back to that verbal sparring he was more comfortable with.

  * * *

  Reggie rose and set her book aside as Mrs. Peavy led Mitchell into the parlor the next morning. “You’re prompt, Mr. Parker. An admirable quality in a man.”

  Mitchell executed a short bow. “Nine-thirty was what we agreed on. I don’t give my word unless I intend to keep it.”

  “Another admirable quality. Shall we go?” She moved forward with a breezy smile and he allowed her precede to him from the room.

  As they stepped out onto the front porch, Reggie turned her face up to the sunny sky and inhaled deeply. She loved being outdoors. Especially on a day such as today. The only thing that would be better was if she were still at the cabin, where she could dress as she pleased and really enjoy herself.

  She would still be there if it weren’t for the hounds her grandfather had let loose on her.

  Before she could stop herself, Reggie cut Mitchell a resentful look.

  He responded with a raised brow. “Have I made a misstep already?”

  Reggie shook off her sour thoughts. Black moods didn’t fix anything and only served to make one more miserable than they already were. “I’m sorry, just a stray thought.”

  She deliberately changed the subject as they stepped from the porch. “A perfect day for a walk, don’t you think?”

  “Couldn’t imagine a nicer one.”

  They strolled in silence for a while.

  Reggie was acutely conscious of her escort’s size. He was such a large man. Not big in a beefy way, just tall and broad-shouldered. She felt absolutely dwarfed in his presence but, strangely enough, not threatened. He’d adjusted his steps to match hers and his demeanor was both attentive and polite. Before long, they turned off of her quiet street and onto Main Street.

  Mitchell took her arm as they crossed the road. “So, when do you begin quizzing me?”

  His directness caught her by surprise and she almost missed a step.

  “That is why you suggested we walk over to the schoolhouse this morning, isn’t it?”

  Reggie quickly regained her composure. “So, we won’t mince words then. Let’s start with your profession. Do you have any experience as a teacher?”

  “Actually, yes. I taught for a short time, many years ago.”

  “Why did you give it up?”

  “I joined the army.”

  “The army?” Reggie didn’t know why that revelation surprised her. He had the disciplined bearing of a military man, and he certainly would make an impressive and intimidating soldier. But somehow she couldn’t picture him thirsting for battle.

  His nod was choppy. “A youthful folly on my part. The call to adventure lured me away from the mundane world of the classroom.”

  Youthful folly? This solid-as-a-rock man? “Why do you consider that a folly?”

  He gave a tight smile she was certain hid some deeper emotion. “I’m afraid military life was not as noble and heroic as I’d imagined.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I just didn’t have it in me to follow orders unquestioningly.”

  There was a story there, but Reggie wasn’t quite up to pursuing it just now. “How long ago did you return to the life of a civilian?”

  “About three years ago.”

  He certainly wasn’t volunteering much information. “And what did you do between that time and now?”

  “Purchased a piece of land to farm. Married a fine, peace-loving woman. Buried her. Lost my farm.”

  “Oh.” He might not be talkative, but he certainly could pack a wallop in what few words he did volunteer. His baldly stated history left Reggie momentarily at a loss for what to ask next.

  Fortunately, a diversion in the form of the reverend’s wife served to fill the silence.

  “Reggie, Mr. Parker,” Anna Harper said, stopping to greet them. “Good morning to you. A beautiful day, isn’t it?” Settling her shopping basket more comfortably on her arm, she seemed ready for a nice, neighborly chat.

  “Mrs. Harper.” Mitchell tipped his hat, returning the greeting. “Yes, it’s quite pleasant out today.”

  “Is Reggie giving you a tour of the town?”

  “Actually,” Reggie intervened, “I’m taking him over to the schoolhouse so he can have a look at the facilities.”

  “Splendid idea.” Anna beamed at Reggie’s companion. “I’m certain you’ll be pleased with what you see.” She hefted her basket again. “Well then, I’ll get on with my shopping and let you be on your way.”

  By the time they resumed their walk, Reggie was ready to continue her questioning. “What made you return to teaching now?”

  He stared straight ahead. “Even though I didn’t stick with it very long, teaching seems to b
e the one thing I can do well. If I’m going to start a new life, this seemed a good first step.”

  Why did she get the feeling he was leaving something out? “Why come to Turnabout? Why not start over in Philadelphia?”

  “Because there was nothing left to hold me there.” He adjusted the tilt of his hat. “Besides, starting fresh means no reminders of past follies or of things that are lost forever.” He met her gaze levelly. “I think we’ve probably covered enough on this particular subject, don’t you?”

  Reggie couldn’t bring herself to take exception to his blunt words. She didn’t really enjoy all this probing and digging into the men’s private lives. But she didn’t have much choice.

  “Very well.” She’d let the matter drop for now. But she would file this bit of information as something to come back to at another time, in another way. Then she pointed to the left. “The school is this way.”

  They turned the corner, and she shifted the conversation to a new subject. “How do you feel about becoming the father of a six-year-old?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, as if he was wrapping his mind around the question. “I’ve always liked children,” he said finally. “Sarah and I had hoped to have a large family.” That closed off look crossed his face again and she could almost see the mental shake he gave himself. “Jack seems like a fine boy. I would do my best to raise him proper.”

  His mention of wanting a large family startled Reggie from her single-minded probing. The heat climbed into her cheeks as she thought of what that might mean. Did he expect—

  She scrambled for a new topic to fill the awkward pause. “I saw you speaking to Miss Whitman at the party yesterday. Did the two of you decide how you will divide up the students?”

  “Not definitively.” He smiled dryly. “After all, I can’t commit to taking the position until you’ve made your selection. However,” he continued, “what Mayor Sanders proposed yesterday was that Miss Whitman teach the younger children, say ages six to ten, and I take the older ones.”

  She nodded. “That makes sense.” Janell Whitman, a petite twenty-one-year-old, seemed to have more affinity for the little ones anyway. Some of the older boys had several inches and more than a few pounds on her. Discipline had never seemed to be a problem, but one never knew. And she couldn’t imagine Mr. Parker being intimidated by any of the boys, or their fathers either for that matter.