The Engagement Charade. Karen KirstЧитать онлайн книгу.
lack of obvious grief. She hadn’t fit his idea of a grieving widow. Truth was, he didn’t know much of anything about her or her circumstances.
“Your husband’s death was a tragedy. Blaming you for what happened is ridiculous and small-minded.”
“They made up their minds about me a long time ago, I’m afraid.”
Knowing Ellie’s personality, things must’ve gotten untenable for her to decide to leave.
“I’m assuming you had an argument tonight. Are you comfortable that things have calmed down enough to return?”
“They kicked me out.” She lifted a shoulder. “I can’t go back.”
The familiar burning sensation spread through his midsection. “What were you planning to do? Pass the night on the riverbank?” His outrage at her in-laws sharpened his tone.
She jutted her chin. “It’s still technically summer. The temperatures are pleasant. I have my grandmother’s quilt to protect my clothes from grass stains. And it’s quiet. Why shouldn’t I stay here?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were a reasonable person.”
“I don’t have another choice, all right?”
At the telltale wobble in her voice, concern leaped to life. “Let’s go. I’m taking you to Mrs. Trentham’s.”
“She’s not expecting me until tomorrow.”
“Does she strike you as an unsympathetic person?”
“No, she seems all that is kind.”
He grabbed his pail and rod—yet another failed fishing attempt—and held out his free hand to her. “Then she’ll understand, as I do, that you cannot possibly sleep in the elements exposed to any manner of danger.”
Ellie’s uplifted gaze, stamped with uncertainty, switched from his outstretched hand to his face .
He wiggled his fingers. “Come. We’ll stop by the café and saddle a horse for you.”
“Why are you involving yourself in my troubles? You’ve gone out of your way to distance yourself from everyone.”
Her fatigue must be why she was speaking plainly. Unhappy with the development, he adopted a stern stare and his haughty employer voice. “As my employee and the reason the Plum is once again packed with customers, you are my responsibility. I can’t have you in the kitchen if you’re overtired. You’d be a danger to yourself and others.”
Her mouth pursed. Reluctantly, she clasped his hand and allowed him to assist her to her feet. As they walked through the silent countryside, Alexander took comfort in the fact this was a singular event, a onetime kindness. He would settle the widow in her new home and tomorrow everything would return to the way it was before.
Chapter Four
Ellie could tell by the sun’s slant that she’d overslept. Although reluctant to leave the soft bed, the prospect of Alexander’s ire prodded her out of it. He’d gone out of his way to be a gentleman last evening, and this is how she repaid him? She rushed through her morning routine, only to discover the one outfit she’d left the cove with was missing.
She padded through the quiet house and found her hostess seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and her Bible open before her. Her coronet braids neat as a pin and not a single wrinkle in her sprigged cotton dress, June radiated cheerfulness that Ellie found refreshing.
Her smile was bright as she marked her place with a handmade bookmark. “Good morning, dear. How did you sleep?”
“A little too well, I’m afraid.” The mantel clock had confirmed her fears. It was past nine o’clock. “I haven’t slept this late since I was a child.”
“You needed rest.”
Fiddling with her housecoat belt, Ellie shook her head. “Not at the expense of my job. Mr. Copeland will not be pleased. And poor Flo’s had to prepare everything on her own. I’ll have to make it up to her somehow, but first I need to find my clothes. Have you seen them? The wardrobe was empty. I looked under the bed to see if they’d fallen—”
June went to the stove and uncovered a plate crowded with biscuits, sausage and eggs. “I spot-cleaned them for you. They’re hanging in the pantry.” She indicated the empty seat across from her own. “As for Mr. Copeland, it was his idea to let you sleep for as long as you wanted.”
Ellie’s jaw went slack. Such thoughtfulness coming from a man who made it his mission to remain indifferent to everyone and everything around him?
“That doesn’t sound like him.”
“Heard it with my own ears.” She winked. “He was very concerned about you. Does he know about the baby?”
“No.” At least, she hoped he didn’t. Sinking into the chair, she picked up a fork. “I’m not ready to tell him.”
Shooting a significant look to Ellie’s midsection, she quipped, “Before long you won’t have a choice.”
Absently rubbing the slight thickness in her middle, she tried to imagine how such a conversation would go. She tried to picture Alexander’s lean, handsome features wreathed in happiness, his mouth curved in genuine delight. Unable to manage it, she tucked into her breakfast, more ravenous than she’d realized.
June refused to let her clean the dishes. After expressing her thanks, she quickly dressed and left for the café. The September morning was pleasantly warm. About half of the trees sprinkled throughout the fields and mountainsides were displaying their fiery autumn colors. The rest remained stubbornly green. Robins chirped and squirrels sprang from branch to branch as she passed by. Near the church, a group of white-tailed deer emerged from the forest, graceful creatures that delighted Ellie no matter how many times she encountered them.
Her steps were light the remainder of the way. For the first time in a very long while, she felt refreshed, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Fragile hope trickled through her. Sure, she was apprehensive about the birth, as well as the prospect of being solely responsible for her child’s well-being, but she trusted God to provide. He’d sustained her through a troubled marriage and blessed her with employment and now a nice, comfortable place to live. He’d give her the strength to deal with the future.
Unsurprisingly, Alexander was closeted in his office when she arrived. Ellie watched his door like a hawk waiting to pounce. By two o’clock, her patience had evaporated. A plate of food in one hand, she read the paper he’d attached to the smooth wood surface.
“Do not disturb.”
She scowled. He was wrong if he thought a flimsy piece of paper would prevent her from her goal.
He took his time answering the door. When his towering form filled the doorway, his closed-off features inches from hers, a quiver of awareness vibrated in her middle. His eyes were so very blue, the inner ring made more vivid by the darker, outer one. When they were locked onto her like this, she felt slightly dazed by their beauty. His black locks were like rich silk against his pale skin. His mouth fit his carved features, but it was also full and soft-looking, too.
The faint scent of soap that clung to his clothes wafted to her, mingling with that of the sliced beef and cabbage on his plate. She switched to breathing through her mouth. Being sick all over her boss’s polished shoes was a humiliation she couldn’t afford.
“Ellie.” His expression was one of long suffering. “Did you not see my sign?”
“I saw it. You have excellent handwriting.” Lifting the plate, she said, “It’s long past noon. You missed your lunch.”
His lips compressed. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I am able to see to my own needs.”
“And I’m not?” she quipped.
“I’m