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I crossed my arms behind my back and prayed no one would follow us. I’d surprised myself in my desire to be alone with him. "It seems everyone thinks we're perfect for each other," I began. I saw no reason not to be up front about something so obvious. Even during the meal, we were placed side-by-side, and as the others talked, the conversation was routed around us.
"So it seems."
I cast a glance at his face, and his gaze collided with mine. "I understand if that's uncomfortable for you." I should give him a way out if he wanted it. After all, we barely knew each other.
His answer startled me. "It's not so bad.”
I looked away at the browned winter landscape. In the spring, an abundance of wildflowers–phlox, Spanish needles, blanket flowers, and spiderwort–would decorate the lane. However, now, they abided their time 'til the warmth returned.
"I guess there's rumors about me," he started.
My eyebrows rose. "I dislike rumors."
"You don't want to know?" he asked.
"Want to know what? Marta's family wouldn't take you in if you were so bad, and besides she purrs about you."
He chuckled. "Never thought of her as a cat, but it fits."
"One of those Siamese that whines all the time," I added.
We laughed.
"Anyhow, there's rumors about me too." I smiled when I said it.
His face grew serious. "I believe only what I see, not what others tell me."
"And what do you see?" My pulse swished in my ears. Why did his opinion matter so much? After all, people had talked about me for years.
Angel, the reprobate.
Angel, the heathen.
Angel, the tomboy.
I'd heard it all. We left the lane and wandered under a copse of trees. The shade diffused the light, causing every fallen leaf, every dried grass and leftover seed pod, to appear sharply in focus. I leaned my back against a tree.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well ..." he began. "I see someone who’s a good friend. Marta loves you."
This was true, and I loved her.
"I see a good sister. I talked to your brother, Brian," he added.
"That didn't scare you?"
"No." He offered a crooked smile.
I stared at him, wondering what Brian said, but he didn't offer to tell me. I determined to speak with Bri about it later.
"I see a girl who doesn't know how pretty she is."
The swish in my ears became a roar and heat rushed to my face. I sucked in a breath. "I'm afraid I don't know how to take compliments."
"And I don't often give them."
I looked at him then, and the air between us stretched taut. My mind spanned the days until Saturday. Never had I wanted someone to ask me to the dance so badly. But he shuffled his feet.
"So tell me, who taught you to shoot?"
I swallowed my pride. He wasn't obligated to say anything to me. But disappointment weighted my joy. "My papa."
"What made him teach you?"
"You mean, since I'm a girl?"
He inclined his head. "Since you're a girl."
"I guess because I wouldn't leave him alone. I took it as a challenge."
"Is everything a challenge to you?"
I tilted my head and considered that. Shooting was a challenge. I’d wanted to beat my brothers. School I'd taken as a challenge; I'd graduated at the head of my class. But not dancing. Dancing was my one indulgence. I bit my lip. I wouldn't say so.
"I guess," I replied instead.
"Do you approach this as a challenge then?"
"This?"
"Me and you."
"Is there a 'me and you'?" I asked.
His answer stole my breath away. "I'd like to think so."
"So that's what he said?" Marta squeezed my arm.
I pried her fingers off. "Yes." I stared at the red marks her fingers left behind.
"In that tone of voice?" Her eyes shone bright.
"What? Do I imitate his tone of voice?"
"Ooooh, I knew it!" she squealed.
I laid my hand over her mouth. "Will you pipe down? That's all I need! More gossip about me."
"Sorry," she muttered. "What's next?" She clapped her hands together in excitement.
"What's next?"
"Yes, when do you see him next?"
I shook my head. "Must I run everything through you?"
She grinned. "Yes. After all, he's my cousin."
"But it's my life." I rose from her bed. "I have to go home now.”
"You’re not leaving like that!" She clawed at me, and I struggled against her, laughing.
"Oh, all right!" I puffed, shaking off her hands. "Tomorrow. He's coming over tomorrow. I guess he can't believe I can shoot, so we're doing target practice."
She leaped to her feet and pressed her hands together. "Can I come?"
I raised an eyebrow. "No, you can’t come. You’ll have to remain in suspense where my love life is concerned."
"Well, toot-toot to you," she paraded, her thumb at her nose and her fingers wiggling in front of her face. "Never knew you had a love life to begin with."
Elias listened to their laughter and a knot formed in his gut. He shouldn’t have said that. What had made him say that? He'd only met her yesterday. They were passing friends–nothing more.
Yes, he was curious to see her shoot, but that’s as far as it went.
Yet the whole "me and you" comment–Did he mean it? She was fascinating, and something about her forthright manner drew him in. But "me and you?”
She didn't know the ugly truth about him. He hadn't directly hurt Melanie Abbot, but the other boys did. They’d done things to her no man should ever do. However, he'd stood by and allowed it. He'd heard the noise and done nothing. He'd not even told anyone ‘til it all came out.
Another peal of laughter came through the wall, and he sucked in a huge breath.
The look on her face when he'd said those words rose back in his thoughts. Why, oh why, had he said that? Now, he had to find a way to let her down easy.
I'm just not worth it.