Hill Country Courtship. Laurie Kingery

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СКАЧАТЬ you, Miss Harkey.” The Scottish burr of his voice was pleasant to the ear, though it took a little careful listening for her to figure out what he’d said. “I will,” he continued, “but I can’t stay long.”

      Maude blinked in surprise. “But there are several young ladies here who’d love to make your acquaintance,” she said, forcing her lips into an appealing smile. She wasn’t the only Spinster who hadn’t yet made a match. Of the original group, Jane Jeffries was also still single, as were Louisa Wheeler, Daisy Henderson and a handful of newer ladies. “Why don’t I show you to the refreshment table, then invite a few of them over to meet you?” With any luck, he’d be so charmed that he’d stay long enough for the dancing to begin inside Gilmore House, the home of the mayor. The mayor was a strong supporter of their club, for he was the father of Prissy, the sheriff’s wife and former Spinster Club member. If Mr. MacLaren stayed through that, he might develop a fondness for one lucky girl. “I think you’d enjoy talking to Louisa, for example, or Jane—both ladies happen to be standing right over there, under the grape arbor.”

      She gestured in their direction, but Jonah MacLaren’s gaze didn’t leave hers. “Why don’t you sit down with me, Miss Harkey, and I can explain why I’m here.”

      He was direct, she’d give him that. Was it possible that he had decided at first glance that she was the one for him? The idea gave her a pleasant little tingle. The man was attractive, though a little intimidating, and it was always nice to feel wanted. But she didn’t believe in lightning-fast attraction. He’d have to prove to her that he was worthy of her consideration, after all, if he was going to ask to court her.

      “All right,” she murmured, and ushered him toward the food table.

      To her relief, there was still a respectable amount of barbecued chicken, green beans, buttered rice and pecan pie left, as well as cold tea and lemonade, and within moments she was sitting down with him at a long table under one of Gilmore House’s venerable live oaks. They were alone at the table, since most of the guests had arrived earlier and already eaten their fill before becoming part of standing conversational groups.

      She took a sip of the cold tea he’d poured for her. “I understand you bought Five Mile Hill Ranch, Mr. MacLaren,” she said, silently blessing Caroline for furnishing her with an opening. She wondered for a moment if he knew that his ranch had been owned by the infamous Drew Allbright, who’d been jailed for the attempted murder of Raleigh Masterson, Violet’s husband. It seemed wisest not to bring it up.

      He finished chewing the chicken he’d just gnawed from the drumstick. “That’s right,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.

      “Where are you from?” she inquired, hoping her question sounded as if she was merely interested rather than prying, so he might open up a little when he answered it. His replies weren’t long or drawled, the way she was used to from Texas-raised men, but maybe that was due to his Scottish heritage. “I mean, it’s obvious you’re Scottish, but did you come directly to Texas from Scotland?”

      “My mother and I last lived in Missouri, but only for a time. Before that it was New York. That was where we first arrived when we came to this country.”

      Missouri had been a border state in the War Between the States. It made her wonder which side he had fought for, if he had fought for either. The war had been over only four years ago, so it was still a consideration in whether a man was respectable or not. Doctor Nolan Walker, her friend Sarah’s husband, was the only Yankee who had successfully joined the Simpson Creek community. And even for Nolan, acceptance—particularly from Sarah herself—had taken time and persistence. But if Mr. MacLaren had been in the country for less than four years, then perhaps he had missed the war entirely.

      “Then may I welcome you to San Saba County? We’re glad you’ve decided to settle here.”

      He lifted a brow, and she suddenly felt her remark had been pretentious. She had no right to speak for everyone, especially when she didn’t know yet if his coming was a good thing or not—or how much a part of the community he’d be. Especially if, as Caroline said, he preferred to keep to himself. With the location of his ranch somewhat distant from town, he would need to be determined to socialize in order to truly become part of the community.

      “Thank you,” he said, after a long moment.

      His direct gaze left her flustered. “How did you hear of the party, if I may ask? Did Mr. Collier invite you?” Oh, dear, did it sound as if she was prying again? Glory, it was hard to talk to such a closemouthed man. She tried to recall every suggestion she’d ever learned about conversational gambits, but she was drawing a blank.

      He finished chewing, then said, “My segundo, Hector Gonsalvo, heard of it from one of Collier’s hands.”

      Segundo, she knew, was a Spanish term Texans sometimes used for foreman, or second-in-command, especially when the foreman was a Tejano, a Texan of Hispanic heritage. She wondered if the Spanish term sounded as strange to Mr. Gonsalvo in a Scottish accent as it did to her.

      “He thought it might be the answer to my needs,” MacLaren went on, then maddeningly left it at that.

      The answer to his needs? She could only assume the man referred to his need for a wife. Goodness, the man was too plainspoken! She felt a flush rising above the neck of her royal blue dress.

      Stalling to gather her wits, she sipped her tea. Land sakes, she might as well be as frank as he was. “So you’ve decided it’s time to settle down and raise a family, and you’re looking to find a wife. Well, a Spinsters’ Club party is certainly the right place to begin, Mr. MacLaren.”

      He drew back, and his intent gaze was now shuttered. “The last thing I’m looking for is a wife, Miss Harkey.”

      * * *

      He saw the exact moment when she misinterpreted what he’d said and came to a scandalous conclusion. Her indignation at the suggestion sparked a temper as hot as her hair was red.

      Maude Harkey rose to her feet, some five feet eight inches of spitting-mad female. “Mr. MacLaren, I’m afraid you’ve formed the wrong idea about our little group. The Spinsters’ Club was founded by ladies seeking marriage, not a...a dishonorable alliance! If that’s what you came here looking for, I suggest you seek it down at the saloon—one of the girls who serves whiskey might be able to accommodate you,” she said, her voice as icy as her temper was blazing.

      He rose, too. “Miss Harkey, simmer down. I wasn’t suggesting anything remotely like what you’re thinking. My intentions are entirely honorable. I’m simply not looking for a wife—romantic claptrap has never appealed to me, you see—”

      “‘Romantic claptrap?’” she echoed, a dangerous chill remaining in her voice. “Is that what you call our efforts to make matches here?”

      He shrugged. “Courtship and that other nonsense is all very well if that’s all a man or a woman is looking for,” he said with a dismissive gesture. “But it seems to me most of these single young women would be much better advised to be seeking employment, not matrimony. And it’s employment that I have come to offer—with nothing scandalous or unseemly to it at all. What I’m looking for is a companion—for my mother, that is.”

      She sank back to her seat, her face fiery red. The flush rather became her, he noted—though he’d thought she looked even more striking moments before, with that fierce fire burning in her eyes. “I...I see. I beg your pardon, Mr. MacLaren. Your mother is in need of a companion?” she СКАЧАТЬ