Karen Kirst - The Bridal Swap

Squinting, she could just make out a low roofline and a child-size door. “It looks like a child’s playhouse.”

He laughed. “Come, I’ll show you.”

As they drew closer, she saw that it had been built into the hillside and only the front facade of stone and timber was visible. When she questioned him, he said it was to maintain the temperature inside at an even level and thus keep the apples from spoiling. Again, she was impressed by the family’s ingenuity.

Using his shoulder, he edged open the door. With a flourish of his hand, he said, “Ladies first.”

She bit her lip. From where she was standing, the interior looked awfully dark and cavelike. But he was waiting patiently, assessing her with those intense blue eyes.

She didn’t have to stay inside, she reasoned. What could a quick peek hurt?

Drawing a deep breath, Kate stepped through the doorway, bowing her head to avoid the low crossbeam. Cool, musky air filled her nostrils. Stacks of empty baskets filled the long, narrow space.

It wasn’t so bad.

Then Josh came in behind her, his body blocking out the light.

Her heart tripped inside her chest. Nausea threatened, and she felt strangely light-headed.

Memories from the past swept over her, and spinning on her heel, she collided with his solid chest. “Please, I need to get out.”

His hands came up to steady her. “What’s wrong?”

Without answering, she ducked beneath his arm and shot out the door. Once again in the open field, she sucked in a lungful of air. Please don’t pass out. Pressing a palm against her clammy forehead, she willed herself to remain calm.

“Hey.” He came abreast of her, his hand cupping her upper arm. “You’re as white as a sheet. Let’s go over here and sit for a spell.”

Kate leaned on his strength as he guided her to a fallen log beneath a nearby apple tree. He helped her settle, then sat close beside her. She couldn’t dwell on his nearness, only her acute embarrassment.

What must he think of her?

“I—I’m all right now.”

“What happened back there?” he prompted, his voice thick with concern. “Did I do something to make you uneasy?”

“No, it wasn’t you.” Eyes downcast, she plucked at the ruffles on her sleeve. “I don’t like small, confined spaces. I tend to panic, as you’ve just witnessed.” Her heart rate was slowing to normal, the nausea fading.

“I wouldn’t have insisted on your going inside had I known. I’m sorry.”

She shifted her gaze to his hands, resting on his knees. Tanned and smooth, they were strong, capable hands.

“It wasn’t your fault. I knew better.”

“Have you always felt this way?”

No, not always . “For a long time, yes.” Please just leave it at that.

He was quiet. Then, reaching up to the limb suspended above their heads, he plucked two apples and offered her one. “Feel like eating something? The natural sugar might put some color back into your cheeks.”

She met his assessing gaze and got lost in the blue depths. The quirk of his lips in a friendly smile broke the spell.

Accepting the fruit, she balanced it in the palms of her hands, wondering how she’d be able to eat it without making a mess of herself and her outfit. Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten an uncut apple since she was a little girl. It was one of those simple acts classified as unladylike. A young lady of her social standing should never appear less than picture-perfect.

Beside her, Josh was already enjoying his.

A tiny seed of rebellion sprouted in her mind. She wasn’t in New York. This wasn’t the estate. She was on a farm in the Tennessee mountains. Surely the rules of what her mother considered proper conduct could be bent a little.

Sinking her teeth into the firm flesh, Kate relished the sweet-tart explosion on her tongue. Maybe it was the combination of warm sunshine and fresh air or Josh’s presence beside her, but she was certain this was the most delicious apple she’d ever tasted.

When the core was all that was left, she glanced over to find him grinning at her.

“What?”

“You, ah, have juice dribbling down your chin.”

“I do?”

He caught her wrist. “Wait. Use my handkerchief.”

Pulling a clean white square of cloth from his pants pocket, he reached over and wiped her chin. His other hand still held her wrist, the pads of his fingers pressed against her skin so that surely he could detect the spike in her pulse.

He lowered his hand. “There,” he murmured with a distracted air, “good as new.”

“Thanks,” she managed in a weak voice.

Then, as if just noticing he still held her, he dropped her wrist like a hot coal.

Surging to his feet, he put distance between them, stroking his goatee in a nervous gesture. “Well, that’s all there is to show you. Tour’s over.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Guess we should head back to the house so that I can warm up the soup Ma made for lunch.”

What had just happened? Whatever it was, he’d been affected the same way she had. And he didn’t seem at all pleased.

What was he thinking? Allowing himself to be affected by Kate Morgan. Of all the foolish, irresponsible … Hadn’t he learned a thing from his tangle with one spoiled heiress?

Annoyed, he was quiet on the walk back and throughout the meal. Kate, perhaps sensing his mood, was quiet as well, seemingly content to listen to his father, brothers and himself discuss farm business.

With the afternoon stretching before them, he’d decided to show her around town. Strolling beside her, he glanced at her profile.

She was soaking in their surroundings as if imprinting the scene upon her memory. Was this city girl a nature lover or was this intense observation a result of her profession?

Her expression brightened. “Look!”

He followed her gaze to a hollowed-out tree trunk where a momma raccoon and four kits lay curled up in their nest, a tangle of gray-and-white fur.

“What an adorable sight!” she whispered, her smile full of girlish excitement. “How old do you think they are?”

“I’d say four or five months.” He matched his voice to hers so as not to disturb the sleeping family.

“To see them in real life is such a treat!”

“What? You don’t have raccoons in the big city?”

She appeared thoughtful. “Perhaps in Central Park. The deer are plentiful there, I’m told, as are foxes.”

The largest city he’d visited was Knoxville. Amid the noise, crowded streets and hectic pace, he’d quickly discovered he preferred country life.

“You’ve never been there?” he asked, wondering for the first time what she did to pass the time.

“A handful of times. I wasn’t fortunate enough to see any wildlife.”

“Well, there’s plenty of it here.”

Her gaze was drawn once again to the sleeping raccoons. “I’m continually struck by God’s handiwork. His imagination and creativity. Nature reflects His majesty, wouldn’t you agree?”

Josh was surprised to hear her speak about God. He’d tried on several occasions to engage Francesca in a conversation about faith, but she’d skirted the issue, saying only that she was a frequent church attendee. Was this another area of difference between the sisters?

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

Something in his voice must’ve snagged her attention, for she turned and thoughtfully regarded him. They shared smiles of understanding, an acknowledgment that on this important subject they were in agreement.

Then, before he could get too accustomed to her heart-melting smiles, he resumed walking. She fell into step beside him.

Crossing the bridge into town, the first business they passed was his friend Tom’s barbershop. Since it was midafternoon, the shop was empty of customers. Tom stood in back, polishing his tools.