Karen Kirst - The Husband Hunt

“It doesn’t appear you enjoyed that very much.” Arms crossed, April wore a smug expression.

Without warning, Sophie leaned close and, snagging the fork from his hand, scooped up a piece for herself. He watched her chew once, her eyes growing big, lashes blinking furiously as she choked. Behind him, his ma made a commiserating sound.

“I don’t understand.” Sophie shook her head in consternation, her thick, shimmering braid sliding over her shoulder. “I followed Ma’s recipe very carefully. I did exactly what it said—”

When she clapped her hand over her mouth, he prompted, “What?”

“There was a smudge.” She spoke without removing her hand, muffling her words. “A water stain, actually, right where she’d written the amount of sugar. So I guessed.”

April’s lip curled. “Don’t you know baking is a science? You can’t guess at it or else you’ll have a disaster on your hands.” Whirling around in a swish of skirts, she marched in the direction of the dessert table, waving her hands to get the attention of those within hearing distance. “Do not eat Sophie Tanner’s rhubarb pie, folks! Not if you want to avoid a terrible stomachache.” Scanning the table, she located the pie and deposited it into the nearest waste bin. People stopped and stared. When Nathan caught the triumphant smirk she shot over her shoulder in their direction, his blood burned white-hot.

There was movement beside him, the air stirring and with it the familiar scent of Sophie—dandelions and sunshine and innocence. He pulled back from his anger long enough to see her hurrying away.

“I’ll go talk to her.” Kate started to get up.

“No, I’ll do it.” He waved her off before getting to his feet. “But first, I’m going to have a word with Miss Littleton.”

“Nathan, wait.” Josh pushed up from the tree and laid a hand on his shoulder. “What’s it going to look like if you go marching over there and yell at her? Look around, brother. Everyone’s watching. I think it would be best if you focus on Sophie right now.”

“She didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that,” he grumbled.

“No, she didn’t,” Josh agreed, questions swirling in his blue eyes as he studied him. “It’s not like you to lose it. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

At least, nothing he could confess. Josh was right. Of the three brothers, he was the calm, controlled one. The quiet one. Some would even say shy.

But for weeks now he’d been wrestling with confusing reactions to a girl he’d always viewed as a pal, an unexpected and unwelcome awareness of her that frustrated him to no end. And his ability to contain that frustration was becoming less and less sure.

Josh squeezed his shoulder. “Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me anytime.”

“I know.” Slowly, he unclenched his hands. Took a calming breath. “I’d better go find her.”

He took a single step, then remembered. With an inward wince, he turned back. “I’m sorry, Pauline, but I have to—”

With a tentative smile, she waved him on. “Go. Your friend needs you right now.”

“Thanks for being understanding.”

Feeling slightly guilty for neglecting his date, he started off in search of Sophie, wondering why his life had suddenly become messy. He didn’t do messy. He preferred things clear-cut. Straightforward. No surprises.

The problem was that Sophie was synonymous with unpredictability. She blurred his thinking. Knocked him off-kilter. He didn’t like that.

He used to be able to ignore it or to simply brush her off, but...they weren’t kids anymore. Things had changed without him wanting or expecting them to. And if he was going to reclaim any sense of normalcy, of balance, he was going to have to put some distance between them.

Right after he made certain she was okay.

* * *

He hadn’t gone far when he spotted her boots swinging from a limb.

Of course she’d be up in a tree. It was her favorite place to go when she craved space. Too bad he wasn’t going to give it to her. Not yet.

A fleeting glance was her only acknowledgment of his presence. Her features were tight as she stared straight ahead. No tears for Sophie.

Since they weren’t within eyesight of the church, he grabbed hold of a low-slung branch and proceeded to climb up, settling on a thick limb opposite her. How long had it been since he’d done this? Years?

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Nathan. If that’s why you’re here, you can just climb back down and leave me in peace.”

A green, leafy curtain blocked the outside world. His left boot wedged against the trunk and one hand balanced on the branch supporting him, he shook his head. “I’m not here to lecture you. I’m done with that.”

Disbelief skittered across her face. He didn’t blame her for doubting him. He’d made reprimanding her into a profession. “Besides, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

She frowned. “Didn’t I? My pride is the reason I was just humiliated in front of the entire town. I let April’s superior attitude get to me.” A fuzzy black-and-orange caterpillar crawled over her hand, and she touched a gentle finger to it. “I was trying to prove a point. I proved one, all right.”

Nathan hated the defeat in her voice. “It takes guts to try something new.”

She was silent a long time, her attention on the caterpillar in her cupped hands. Her legs slowed their swinging. “Do you remember when we used to play in the treetops? You, me and Caleb?”

“How could I forget?” They’d made up all sorts of adventures for themselves.

Her lips twisted in a wistful sort of smile. “I liked playing pirates most of all. Caleb was the big, bad pirate, I was the damsel in distress and you...” Her eyes speared his as her words trailed off.

“I was always the hero, swooping in to rescue you,” he finished for her, lost in her sapphire eyes full of memories and mystery.

“Yes.” Lowering her gaze, she released the caterpillar onto the branch to go on his merry way. “Sometimes I miss those days.”

Resisting the pull she had over him, he spoke gruffly. “Things change. We’ve changed. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped climbing trees, Sophie? Stop living in the past? Put our childhood behind us?”

For a split second he glimpsed the hurt his words—said and unsaid—inflicted. Then she jerked her chin up and glared at him.

“No, I don’t. I like climbing trees, and I don’t see any reason to stop. I’ll probably still be doing it when I’m old and gray. With any luck, you won’t be around to scold me.”

And with that, she hurried down and stormed off. Left him there feeling like an idiot.

* * *

Today was a new day.

Sitting in a church pew with his family listening to the reverend’s opening remarks, Nathan was confident he’d made the right decision. Lounging in that tree long after she’d gone, he’d determined that what he and Sophie needed was some space. As he’d reminded her last night, they weren’t kids anymore. Maybe that was their error—assuming things could stay the same. He feared if they continued in this manner, one of them—more than likely him—was bound to say or to do something so damaging, so incredibly hurtful, their friendship wouldn’t survive. He would hate that.

He had to be careful to make his distance seem natural, though. The very last thing he wanted was to hurt her. He would curtail his visits, and if she questioned him he could blame it on his heavy workload. She was busy, too. This would work.

No sooner had the thought firmed in his mind than the rear doors banged open. The reverend faltered, and the congregation turned as one to see who was behind the interruption. When he first saw her, disapproval pulsed through him. Not only was Sophie late, she’d made an entrance no one could ignore.