The Monday before Thanksgiving, Seth was talking to Darby about a few preparations they’d need to make before the elevator engineer arrived the next week, when Everett Fulton walked into the lobby.
Abigail’s brother shook his hand in greeting, then glanced around. “Is Abigail here? I thought I’d let her show off her new library to me like she’s been wanting to do.”
Darby spoke up before Seth could. “She went down to the dress shop a little while ago. Said she needed to check something on the new drapes she ordered.”
“She probably won’t be long,” Seth added. “Can I interest you in a cup of coffee while you wait?”
“Of course.”
Seth led the way into the dining room, stopping long enough to stick his head in the kitchen doorway and ask Della to bring them some coffee.
Once they were seated, Everett leaned back and gave Seth a polite smile. “Abigail seems to really enjoy the work she’s doing here. I want to thank you for giving her this opportunity.”
Seth shrugged. “It’s Judge Madison you should thank. He’s the one who gave her this opportunity, not me.”
Everett nodded. “That’s just one more thing our family owes that man. For someone who barely knows us, he’s been an amazing benefactor.”
Della bustled up, deposited their coffee in front of them, then returned to the kitchen.
Determined to say his piece, Seth met Everett’s gaze head-on. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I know who you are. Or rather, I know what you did back in Philadelphia that made you want to leave.”
Everett leaned back heavily. “I see.”
“I remember that story you wrote, the tragedy that followed it and the accusations that the story was unfounded.”
“It’s all true.” There was deep regret in his tone and demeanor.
Then Abigail’s brother took a deep breath. “I turned in that story without digging as deeply into the facts as I should have. No excuses—because of me, a good man and his family suffered. And even though his death, and that of his daughter, were ruled accidents, I know my story contributed to it in a real way. They were on that boat that capsized because they were trying to escape the scandal I created with my story. It’s a burden of guilt I’ve carried with me ever since.”
“Your sister doesn’t know, does she?”
Everett shook his head, then his lips formed a twisted smile. “I told Daisy the whole story before I married her—I wanted her to know what she was getting herself into before she committed.” He grimaced. “But Abigail has no choice, she’s family. And I just couldn’t bring myself to tell my little sister.”
Seth could sympathize with that. But he remembered Abigail’s story of how she’d been ambushed by gossip once before. “Do you ever plan to?”
Everett stared into his coffee. “I know I should, but the right moment just never seems to come up.”
“Don’t you think it would be better if she hears it from you than from someone else?” He held up a hand. “And no, I don’t plan to tell her, it’s not my place. But someday it could happen. How do you think that would make her feel?”
“You’re right, of course.” He tilted his head to one side. “You really care about my sister, don’t you?”
Seth shifted slightly in his seat, uncomfortable with being on the other side of the interrogation. “She’s my friend,” he said.
Before Everett could respond, Abigail bustled into the dining room. “Everett, Darby told me you were here. I hope you haven’t been waiting on me very long.”
Both men stood and Everett stepped forward to take her hands. “Not at all. Seth and I have just been getting better acquainted over a cup of coffee.”
He turned back to Seth. “Thank you for keeping me company. Now if you’ll excuse us, I need to see my little sister’s new library.”
Abigail gave his hand a tap and rolled her eyes. “Listen to him. To hear my brother talk, you’d think I was still an adolescent instead of a grown woman.”
Seth smiled at the teasing, disguised as chiding, she aimed at her brother. But as soon as they turned to walk away, he sobered.
Had he done the right thing, interfering that way? What Abigail’s brother chose to tell or not tell her was none of his business.
Where was the businesslike dispassion he prided himself on? In a matter of weeks he’d be leaving this place, leaving Texas, and he would likely never see any of these people again.
But somehow that thought didn’t make him feel one iota better.
* * *
As Abigail escorted Everett to her library she wondered just what it was she’d interrupted. There’d been a tension between the two men when she walked in, something almost tangible that stretched between them.
Not antagonism, exactly—which was good because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if her brother and the man she was coming to think of as more than a business associate didn’t get along.
But what was it?
“Nice sign,” Everett said, interrupting her thoughts. “Did you have that made?”
She glanced up at the sign hanging over the library door. “Actually, Mr. Reynolds made it. Wasn’t that nice of him?”
Everett’s expression shifted, became thoughtful. “Yes, that was very nice of him.”
Abigail led the way into the library, walked to the middle of the room, then spun around. “Here it is. What do you think?”
Her brother looked around appreciatively. “I think that you’ve definitely come up in the world. This gives you lots of room for your current collection, and lots of room to grow.”
“And the best part about it is that I no longer have to take up room in the restaurant. Daisy can finally make full use of her space.”
Everett waved a hand dismissively. “You know Daisy never minded having the library there. In fact, she thought it added a little something extra to her establishment.”
Before she could respond to that admission, Everett grew serious. He rubbed the back of his neck and then looked up to meet her gaze. “Abigail, there’s something I need to tell you, something I probably should have told you a long time ago.”
What was wrong? Few people knew Everett had spent his first eleven years in England. His accent was almost nonexistent most of the time, but it always became more pronounced when he was worried or angry, like now. “What is it?”
“I never told you why I left Philadelphia and came here.”
She frowned at the unexpected choice of topic. “I thought it was because you wanted a fresh start, a chance to start up your own newspaper.”
“That wasn’t the whole story. The thing is, I did something when I worked for the newspaper in Philadelphia, something I’m not very proud of.”
The deep regret she saw in his expression scared her. “Whatever happened, Ev, you know it won’t change what I think of you.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “You might want to wait until you hear what I have to say before you make a promise like that.” He waved toward her desk. “Have a seat.”
Twenty minutes later, Abigail was sending her brother away with assurances that she loved him more than ever.
Then she glanced toward the closed office door. According to Everett, Seth knew about this. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
But she needed to address it, and there was no time like the present.
* * *
Seth looked up when Abigail walked into the office. “What did your brother think of the library?”
“He was impressed. He also liked the sign you made to put over the door.”
So she’d told him about that. After Everett’s probing into his feelings for Abigail, Seth wasn’t sure that had been the best time for that revelation.
She nodded. “And after he looked around my library, we had a nice long talk about why he really moved to Turnabout all those years ago.”
His estimation of the man rose several notches. “Oh?”
Abigail fisted a hand on her hip. “Don’t pretend, he told me you know all about it.”
He swallowed a wince. “Perhaps not all about it,” he hedged. Then he studied her face. “How are you?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Everett made a mistake—goodness knows I’ve made more than a few of those myself. Granted his had tragic consequences, but it’s only by God’s grace that some of mine haven’t as well.”
Was she remembering the time she’d run away from boarding school?
She sighed. “I’m more grateful than ever for how Judge Madison helped him get his fresh start here. Which I will now have the opportunity to say in person very soon.”
Amazing how she could always find the bright spot in any cloud. Did nothing ever dampen her rose-colored view of life?
He sincerely hoped not.
* * *
Thanksgiving morning finally arrived and it was all Seth could do to contain Jamie’s excitement.
The sun had barely come up before the boy was raring to go. “When can we go? Noah says his family always gets there by nine o’clock.”
“Just be patient. It’s not even eight o’clock yet. Miss Abigail is supposed to come by and help collect the food we’re bringing.”
“Did someone mention my name?”
Jamie immediately popped up to greet her. “Miss Abigail! Are you excited about today?”
“I certainly am. And I’m most excited about hearing you sing in the children’s choir program.”
Jamie turned to Seth. “Miss Abigail’s here—can we go now?”
Before Seth could answer, Abigail laughed. “First I need to help Mrs. Long get our hampers of food ready. But I promise to hurry.” Then she raised a brow. “You want to help us? It might make the time go faster.”
With a nod, Jamie turned and headed for the kitchen.
Abigail met his gaze with a saucy smile. “You coming?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she sashayed off to follow Jamie.
Seth grinned in appreciation. The woman knew how to get her way.
With a good-humored shake of his head, he followed them into the kitchen.
Once everything had been packed up in two hampers, Seth took one and Abigail took the other. Jamie was a bundle of nervous energy, chattering nonstop and unable to stay still for more than a few moments at a time.
As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Abigail paused, lifted her face and inhaled deeply.
Seth couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.
“Isn’t this a glorious autumn day? Clear, crisp, invigorating...” Then she dropped her gaze, giving him and Jamie a wistful smile. “It’s one of those days that make me grateful I don’t have to stay cooped up inside.”
“Me, too,” Jamie agreed.
Seth merely nodded, swallowing hard. She started forward again. Both hands clasped on the hamper’s handle. “We couldn’t have asked for a better day for the festival.”
When they arrived at the schoolyard, which was being used as the festival grounds, Abigail pointed to a platform that had been erected to the left of the schoolhouse. “That’s new this year.”
“What’s it for?” Jamie asked.
“Several of the fathers got together and built it for the choir to stand on. It’s so folks who don’t get a chance to stand in front can still get a good view of the children singing.”
Why hadn’t he known about that? Did folks think he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—help?
“You mean we’re going to sing from up there?” Jamie’s eyes were wide—Seth couldn’t tell if it was excitement or apprehension.
Abigail ruffled the boy’s hair. “Yes. And I aim to get as close to the front as I can so I can hear every note you sing.”
Jamie grimaced. Then the sound of children’s happy shrieks and excited chatter caught his attention. He pointed across the schoolyard. “There’s Noah and Jack and some of my other friends playing ball over by the big oak. Can I go, too?”
Seth cut a quick glance Abigail’s way, then turned back to Jamie. “Yes, of course.”
The words were barely out of Seth’s mouth before Jamie was racing off.
“It’s nice to see him having such a good time.” Abigail touched Seth’s arm. “The food goes inside the schoolhouse.”
He followed her inside Mr. Parker’s classroom and paused on the threshold. The student desks had been cleared out and what seemed like dozens of women were milling about. Tables lined the walls, and they were fast being loaded with every kind of food imaginable.
Mitch Parker’s wife, Ivy, bustled up to them with a smile. “Welcome. I’m helping organize the tables this year.” She began pointing to the various tables. “Meats go over there, vegetables there, desserts there and if you brought anything to drink it goes over there.”
Mitch set out the contents of his hamper as instructed, then looked around. “Do they use the other classroom for anything?”
Abigail took his hamper. “That’s where all the desks from this classroom went.” She stored both hampers beneath a table. “It’s also a place where the babies and younger children can nap. Some of the older women take turns watching the little ones so the mothers can have the freedom to enjoy themselves.”
As they went back to the schoolyard, Abigail gave him a mischievous smile. “I should warn you, I signed us up to judge the sack race and the three-legged race.”
“Did you now?”
She nodded solemnly, but he didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes. “Of course. It’s our civic duty as representatives of a major business in town to participate. I knew you would agree.”
He shook his head. “It appears I have no choice.”
“I’m so glad you understand.” She waved him toward the left. “Now come along, the times of all the competitions are posted on the side of the building and we need to see when we’re up.” And with a sassy little flounce, she led the way.
Seth smiled as he kept pace with her. It seemed Miss Fulton was feeling feisty—more so than usual. It ought to make for an interesting day.
* * *
Abigail was having a wonderful time. Being able to show Seth and Jamie one of the highlights of Turnabout’s year, and the best side of its community atmosphere, was a real joy. And to have Seth at her side in this rare moment of relaxation and fun without the pressure of the work at the hotel was lovely.
When the school bell rang at ten o’clock sharp, she grabbed Seth’s arm and gave him a little tug. “Come on, we want to get a spot near the front.”
He looked startled by her action and she started to pull her hand away. But then he closed his own hand over it and tucked it in the crook of his elbow.
Feeling her joy bubble up even higher, she walked beside him as they joined the crowd gathered in front of the platform. Reverend Harper stepped up first, delivering a message of gratitude and hope.
Once he stepped down, the children’s choir went up to take his place. Verity Cooper, the choir director, stood on the ground in front of them.
Abigail stood beside Seth, her hand still on his arm, as they listened to the children sing “My Country, ’Tis of Thee” and “Now Thank We All Our God.”
Seeing Jamie’s shining face and hearing the gusto with which he sang out touched her deeply. Did Seth feel it, too? She stole a sideways glance his way and the pride and affection she saw in his eyes took her breath away.
And in that moment of perfect happiness, it struck her. She loved him—him and Jamie both. And with the kind of love she’d witnessed among the couples in her circle but never experienced herself. Until now.
And close on the heels of that thought was the realization that, if things went according to plan, the hotel would be ready to open in four weeks’ time. After that, Seth and Jamie would return to Philadelphia and she would likely never see them again.
How in the world was she going to bear saying goodbye to these two who had become such a vital part of her life?
And how could she push those feelings aside, at least long enough not to ruin today’s celebration?
* * *
Something was wrong. Seth could sense the change in Abigail, could feel the tension radiating from her, could see some of the sparkle fade from her countenance.
It had happened from one moment to the next while she was watching the children’s performance. What had caused this? What had he missed?
But before he could dig deeper, the program ended and folks began milling about, collecting their children and moving on to other attractions.
Abigail turned to him, her expression a fairly good facsimile of her normal cheery demeanor. “Come on. Let’s go tell Jamie how fabulous he was.” And she was off, wending her way through the crowds to get to Jamie.
He followed, but once they reached Jamie, they barely had time to praise him before Noah ran up. “They’re getting ready to start up the horseshoe tournament. Do you and your uncle want to play against me and my dad?”
Jamie turned to Seth, his expression a mix of eagerness and uncertainty. “Can we?”
Seth glanced Abigail’s way, still trying to figure out what was wrong, not wanting to leave her alone.
But she waved them away. “You menfolk go on. I’m going to look for Constance—I need to ask her a question.” And she was gone without a backward glance.
Seth turned back to Jamie. At least horseshoes was one game where a bad leg wasn’t a disadvantage. He clapped his nephew on the shoulder. “Let’s give it a go.”
* * *
Abigail moved steadily away, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze or draw attention to herself. She was happy that Seth and Jamie had found something they could do together.
And that she could have a little time to herself.
She chided herself for her mood—she knew she had no business being downhearted. Today was Thanksgiving, after all, a day to appreciate one’s blessings, not get mopey about things outside her control. She just had to remember, everything was under God’s control, and trying to wrest it back from Him with all her worrying and moaning about what she wanted but couldn’t have was nothing short of a shameful lack of faith.
So, time to start focusing on her blessings. Starting with the fact that she still had four whole weeks of Seth and Jamie’s company to look forward to, so she better not waste a moment of it. What was that verse Reverend Harper had quoted this morning—This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.
Determined to do just that, Abigail went to watch the horseshoe tournament. When she arrived, Seth seemed gratifyingly happy to see her. And while he and Jamie didn’t win, they obviously had fun.
By the time they walked away from the game, she had pulled herself back together.
Jamie, apparently unbothered by their defeat, declared himself hungry.
“How does that work?” Seth asked. “Does everyone sit down to eat at the same time?”
Abigail shook her head. “We used to, but the gathering has gotten too big for that. So now folks just pick their own time and groupings, and help themselves to the food.” She waved a hand. “As you can see, some folks are already eating, others are just now wandering over to the schoolhouse to get their meal and others haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
Seth put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “That sounds to me like we have permission to dig in.”
The three moved toward the schoolhouse and joined the growing number who were ready to fill their plates. Abigail quickly retrieved one of their hampers and collected the dinnerware she’d brought for the three of them. Abigail helped Jamie serve his plate while she served her own as well.
Seth finished first and waited for them near the door. As they stepped outside, carefully balancing their overflowing plates, Jamie looked around. “Where are we supposed to sit?”
“Well, some folks spread blankets on the ground picnic-style, some take advantage of the tables spread out over the grounds and some stroll about with a plate in their hands, eating as they wander.” Then she nodded toward the platform. “But I think we might do best joining those using the stage for a perch.”
“Agreed.” Seth led the way and Abigail was impressed that he managed to balance his plate one-handed.
* * *
Seth kept a close eye on Abigail as they ate, but apparently whatever had been troubling her earlier was resolved now. She seemed perfectly happy as she regaled them both with stories of festivals past and things they had yet to look forward to.
As soon as they’d finished their meal, Jamie raced off to join his friends and Mayor Sanders came over to tell Abigail and Seth it was time for them to assume their judging duties.
Judging the sack race and three-legged race proved more fun than Seth had expected. Not only did it give him a way to participate, but he also caught Jamie watching him with a touch of pride in his eyes.
Jamie participated in both games and took second place in the sack race for the under-twelve age group.
He also participated in the three-legged race, partnering with Noah, and while the pair didn’t place, they were laughing so hard by the time they made it across the finish line that Seth didn’t think they minded coming in next to last.
When their judging duties were at an end, Seth turned to Abigail. “Don’t you participate in any of the contests?”
She shook her head. “I’m quite content to be a spectator this year.”
“This year? Does that mean you’ve competed in the past?”
Her grin turned saucy. “I have been known to try my hand at the apple-peeling contest and the egg race.”
“Now you tell me, once the egg race is over. But tell me about this apple-peeling contest.”
“All the contestants are given an apple and a knife. The object is to see who can peel it so that they end up with the longest unbroken strip of peel.”
He gave her an assessing look. “And are you any good?”
“Came in second two years in a row. And last year I lost by a mere quarter inch.”
“Then I think you are honor-bound to give it one more try. Haven’t you ever heard the saying that the third time is a charm?”
“I’ve also heard that three strikes and you’re out.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Who would have guessed, Abigail Fulton is a quitter.”
She halted in her tracks and fisted her hands on her hips. “You take that back.”
My, but she looked magnificent when she got riled. “Prove me wrong.”
She glared at him a moment longer, then grinned. “All right, but you have to enter as well. If I come in second again at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing I beat you.”
“Why, Miss Fulton, are you issuing me a challenge?”
“Absolutely.”
“Accepted.” He crooked his arm for her to take. “Shall we?”
* * *
Abigail liked this side of Seth, the side that could relax and have fun. It was a shame he didn’t show this side of himself more often. They reached the tables where the apple-peeling contest was being held, just as the last call for contestants went out. They quickly took seats across from each other and waited for the bell to sound as they listened to the rules. Each contestant had three apples in front of them, which meant two extra chances if they weren’t happy with their first attempt. At the end of twelve minutes it was knives down and whoever had the longest peel won.
Just as Abigail saw the mayor reaching for the bell, she caught Seth’s gaze and gave him a sassy wink. It startled him so much he lost several seconds time when the bell rang.
With a grin, she settled down to business, tuning everything else out but the knife and the apple. A quarter of the way through her first attempt the peel broke. She tossed it aside and reached for another apple. This one went much better. She focused on taking her time and keeping the strip uniformly narrow and thin. This time she got through the entire piece of fruit without a break.
Glancing up triumphantly, she was surprised to see Seth watching her, a cocky grin on his face, a perfect strip of peel in front of him.
She should have known someone as meticulous as he was would be good at this.
A moment later time was called. The contestants who were obviously out of the running left the table, leaving five contenders—she and Seth among them.
Hazel Gleason, the judge for this event, came around with her measuring tape. Finally, she stood at the head of the table. “The results are in, and it’s a close one. With a length of twenty-nine and six tenths of an inch, Asa Samuels wins third place.”
Asa went up to receive his yellow ribbon amid applause from those gathered around.
Hazel stepped up again. “With a length of thirty and three quarter inches, second place goes to a newcomer in our midst, Seth Reynolds.”
Seth looked genuinely surprised when his name was announced and the smile he gave her was almost apologetic.
Abigail stood and clapped for him as he joined Asa at the front and accepted his red ribbon. She was pleased to see Jamie had been watching and had run up to congratulate his uncle.
Hazel raised a hand as she prepared to speak again. Abigail stood alongside the other two remaining contestants, one of whom was last year’s winner, Lionel Jenkins.
“And the winner, with a peel that measures an impressive thirty-one inches on the nose, is Abigail Fulton.”
Abigail was stunned. She walked up to the front to receive her ribbon and saw Jamie jumping up and down and Seth giving her the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his face.
Abigail accepted her ribbon and then turned to Seth. “I suppose the third time is a charm after all.”
“Far be it from me to say I told you so, but...”
“Look at us,” Jamie said proudly. “We all have ribbons to take home.”
“So we do.” Abigail stared at Seth over the boy’s head. Did this, the three of them standing together and celebrating, feel like a family to him, too? Because it certainly felt that way to her.
It was getting on toward late afternoon now, and the sound of a fiddle tuning up drifted across the grounds. Like the pied piper, it drew folks from all corners to gather round.
Abigail smiled as she saw Constance and Calvin holding hands as they approached the area set aside for the dancers. It was about time the two of them acknowledged their feelings for each other.
Jamie excused himself to rejoin his friends and for a moment she and Seth stood in companionable silence. After a moment Abigail found herself swaying to the music. She’d always loved to dance.
“Feel free to join your friends if you like. I don’t mind.”
Abigail felt her face warm. It hadn’t been her intention to hint that she wanted to leave him so she could dance. “Don’t you like to dance?” she asked.
He gave her a crooked smile, and lifted his cane a few inches off the ground. “This third leg makes dancing a bit difficult.”
“Nonsense. You might not have the most graceful stride, but I’ve seen you maintain extraordinary control when you need to.” She raised a brow. “Besides, I didn’t ask if you were good at it, I asked if you liked it.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never tried.”
She nodded. “Then it’s time, don’t you think?”
He glanced at the dance floor that was fast becoming crowded and she saw the trepidation in his expression. Taking his hand, she gave it a gentle tug. “Let’s go for a walk.” She wasn’t sure if it was relief or disappointment she saw in his expression. Maybe a little of both.
But he didn’t move. “You should stay. I’m sure there are any number of young men who would be happy to escort you out on the dance floor. I’ll go check on Jamie.”
“Jamie is fine. And I don’t want to dance with any of the other young men right now.” She tugged at his hand again and this time he gave in. She led him away from the crowds until she found what she was looking for—a nice level bit of ground, sheltered from the view of most folks milling about. “This looks like a good spot for your first lesson.”
“Lesson?”
His reaction was almost amusing. “Dance lesson. We have relative privacy here but we’re still close enough to hear the music.”
He pulled his hand from hers. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“You’re not backing down from a challenge, are you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just being practical. You can’t teach a frog to fly. You can’t teach a pig to walk upright.” He clenched his jaw. “And you can’t teach me to dance.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Your logic is faulty. You are neither a frog nor a pig. And you have the advantage of having me as a teacher.”
His lips quirked up in a crooked kind of grin. “And I’m sure you’re a mighty fine teacher. But my leg is what it is and you can’t change that.”
“I don’t intend to change it.” She eyed him steadily. “Do you trust me?”
* * *
Seth hesitated a moment. Did he trust her? Finally, he nodded.
She rewarded him with a dazzling smile. “Good. Now, set your cane aside—you can lean it against the tree. Hold on to me to keep your balance.”
Holding on to her would definitely not be a hardship. Whether it was a good idea or not was another matter entirely.
She took one of his hands and placed her other lightly on his shoulder. Then she directed him where to place his free hand. “Now, we’re going to move very slowly and deliberately to start off. Listen to the music and let it guide you. I’ll follow wherever you lead.”
He liked the sound of that. And the warmth of her hand in his. Being this close to her was a kind of sweet torture.
“Keep your eyes focused on mine, not on your feet,” she chided as they began. “Dancing is about anticipating your partner’s moves, communicating without words.”
He stumbled slightly but she paused, allowing him to lean his weight on her a moment and then they picked up the rhythm once more. He managed to get through the rest of the piece without stumbling again, though he was sure she’d never had a more graceless partner.
Somehow, that didn’t bother him as much as it once might have. Holding her in his arms this way, feeling her warmth and supple movements, it was near intoxicating. He had a fierce urge to protect her and cherish her, to claim her as his own. He’d never felt quite this way about anyone before.
The music started up again almost immediately and he was ready to go again. This time, though, it was she who stumbled midstep and he barely managed to steady her without going down himself. But the movement brought them closer still, as if they were embracing. Abigail’s eyes widened, filled with a liquid light. Her breath caught and the sound of it cut through the last of his control.
Seth actually leaned in to bestow the kiss he so desperately wanted to give her when the sound of nearby voices broke the trance.
He pulled back slightly and loosened his hold.
She straightened, her gaze searching his in confusion and, dare he hope, disappointment?
What had he been thinking? Anyone could have walked up on them—if they had been caught in a kiss, or even embracing, it could have had serious repercussions for her.
Not to mention the implied promise it would give, a promise he could never fulfill.
But oh, it would have been so memorable.
He released her and offered his elbow. “Thank you for the dance lesson. What do you say we go see what’s left on the dessert table?”
With a nod, she placed her hand on his arm.
Was the tremble of her fingers due to the chill in the air? Or something more?
* * *
Abigail’s thoughts swirled in bright kaleidoscopic fragments. The look he’d given her when they’d fallen into that embrace, a look full of a fierce tenderness and yearning... No one had ever looked at her that way before. It was something that would stay with her the rest of her life, no matter what else happened between them. He’d wanted to kiss her. That it hadn’t happened was disappointing, to say the least. But what was important was that she could tell he’d wanted it as much as she had, as she did still.
The fact that he was back to being guarded and all gentlemanly didn’t change things one bit. Because she had hope now, hope that if he felt the same for her as she felt for him, perhaps there was a way they could work things out, after all.
And hope was a powerful thing.