Handpicked Husband (Love Inspired Historical) (11 page)

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

R
eggie, 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?”

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.

* * *