Utah Sunrise (Rocky Mountain Romances Book 1)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “And how are you liking Ogden so far?”

  “It’s different from what I’m used to. I was raised in Silver City, which is rather mountainous, and Ogden is rather flat.”

  Del found himself unaccountably annoyed. “You did notice the mountains to the east, didn’t you? We don’t live right in them, but we do have them.”

  “Yes, I saw them, and they’re quite nice. I don’t mean to sound critical of your town, Mr. Prescott. I was just commenting on one of the differences.”

  “I apologize as well. I overreacted.” He spun her the other direction. “Is it just yourself and your parents, then?”

  “Yes, the three of us.”

  Gracious. Was speaking to this woman going to be like waiting for honey to drip from a jar? “And what does your father do?” If she managed more than a one-sentence reply, he’d be quite shocked.

  “He works for the railroad.”

  Just as he thought. The girl was incapable of a decent conversation. She was pretty enough to look at, but if he couldn’t even talk to her, he certainly didn’t want to spend the evening dancing with her. The song came to an end, and he had an idea. He escorted her back to the side of the room, gave her a bow, then turned to Mrs. Hancock, who had been watching the two of them with something remarkably like a smirk. “And now I must dazzle and amaze you with my skills, Mrs. Hancock.”

  She simpered as though she was sixteen instead of fifty. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  He took her up in his arms and twirled out onto the floor. “I’m very glad this band is lively. Nothing’s worse than trying to dance to a funeral dirge.”

  “I agree,” she said, grasping his arm just a bit too tightly. He imagined she was trying to keep up, and he slowed his pace. “Thank you, Mr. Prescott. I’m not as young as I think I am.”

  He laughed. “We’re only as old as we tell ourselves we are.”

  “I’m not sure that can possibly be true. I’ve been telling myself I’m twenty for years now, and that’s getting me nowhere.” She scrutinized him. “And just how old are you? Old enough to run a company—surely you’re old enough to be married.”

  Del shook his head with a smile. “I’m twenty-five, and yes, my mother would agree that it’s high time I found a wife. She’s become so insistent, in fact, that I’ve decided to turn my attention to it just to set her mind at ease. If I’m not successful soon, I’m afraid she’ll come move in with me and oversee my efforts herself.”

  “Would that be such a terrible thing? I’m sure she only wants what’s best for you.”

  “I know she does, and I love her for it, but I want to choose my own wife, not to have one chosen for me.”

  “Oh, dear.” Mrs. Hancock looked abashed. “I must have offended you horribly just now by introducing you to Miss Sinclair. That wasn’t my intention—I just thought you’d enjoy her company. She’s a sweet thing. And so pretty, too.”

  “I wasn’t offended, and she is very pretty.”

  She fixed him with a look. “You chopped off your answer before you said everything that was on your mind. What am I missing?”

  Del laughed. “You’re far too clever for me, Mrs. Hancock. If you were a bit closer to my age, I’d think I’d found my perfect companion.”

  “Well, as long as I keep telling myself I’m twenty . . .” She raised her eyebrow. “You’re distracting me. You were about to tell me what you think of Miss Sinclair.”

  “I don’t object to her at all. I just wish she had something more to say.”

  “Didn’t she speak to you?”

  “Not much, I’m afraid.”

  “I find that rather odd.” Mrs. Hancock nodded over to the corner of the room, where Miss Sinclair sat chatting merrily with two of the other women in attendance. “I would have thought her capable of saying quite a lot.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps she’s just not capable of speaking to me.” Del brought Mrs. Hancock back to the side of the room as the music came to an end. “Thank you for the enjoyable dance.”

  “Any time, young man. Any time.”

  Del grabbed another cup of punch, downed it in a quick series of swallows, then headed outside. It had grown far too stifling in there for his liking.

  This is the end of this segment. Don’t forget to email me at ameliaadamsauthor@gmail.com to request the remainder of the book for free, and to return this file to Amazon for a refund. Thank you!