Karen Kirst - The Husband Hunt

“Hey, Soph.” He gripped the smooth wooden door and rested his weight against it. “Ma made pecan pie for dessert. Care to join us?”

Not much of a cook herself, she usually took him up on such offers.

She hesitated, fingers toying with the end of her neatly woven braid, honey-blond hair gleaming like spun gold in the sunlight. Spun gold? Where had that fanciful thought come from? He was not a fanciful man. He was a sensible man. A practical man who dealt with day-to-day reality. He wasn’t a reader like Josh or his cousins, so his mind wasn’t filled with poetry and romance. Must be the effects of the skunk stench.

“No, thanks. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” Joining her on the porch, he pulled the door closed behind him and went to lean against the railing, arms folded over his chest.

Sophie faced him squarely, hands tucked in her pants’ pockets and shoulders back in a familiar stance that said she had something to prove. “I came to apologize for the other day.”

The apology didn’t come as a surprise. One thing about his neighbor—she was quick to own up to mistakes. “Forget about it.”

“I hope the smell didn’t disrupt things too much.”

Disrupt? As in having to steer clear of the barn while his brother and father assumed his share of the chores? As in having to take his meals on the front porch so as not to make everyone gag at the supper table?

“Nah, not really.” He smiled to erase her lingering regret.

Bending at the waist, she sniffed the air around him. Shot him a hopeful smile. “You smell fine to me. Does this mean we can be friends again?”

He gave her braid a playful tug. “We’ll always be friends. You know that.”

But his words didn’t have the desired effect. Her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, long lashes sweeping down. “I don’t expect you to rescue me, you know.”

Straightening, Nathan settled his hands on her shoulders. “Sophie, look at me.” When she lifted her face to his, he said, “I shouldn’t have said that. I was angry, and I spoke without thinking. You know you can always count on me, don’t you?”

She slowly nodded. He was struck by her diminutive stature, her slender build and the delicacy so often overlooked because of her tomboyish appearance and the air of capability she exuded that had carried her through the many hardships life had thrown her way. But now, gazing into her face, he was reminded that she was no longer the rough-and-tumble little imp trailing behind him and his brothers, insistent on joining in their fun.

The muted light of the summer evening washed her fair skin with a pink tinge of health, her cheeks and bee-stung lips the color of delicate rosebuds. The collared button-down shirt she had on was blue like the sky overhead. The bright hue made her eyes glow like the blue sapphire ring Emmett Clawson had taken in on trade a couple of weeks ago and that now occupied a premier spot in the jewelry case for everyone to admire.

With a start, he realized he was staring and Sophie was watching him with an uncharacteristic guardedness. He released her at once. What’s gotten into you, O’Malley?

Clearing his clogged throat, he pivoted away to grip the railing, slowly and methodically cataloging the rows upon rows of cornstalks swaying in the breeze, the stately apple orchard marching along the fields in front of Josh and Kate’s cabin and the forested mountains ringing the valley.

Okay, so Sophie was all grown up now. So what? That didn’t mean he was free to think of her in terms other than neighbor and friend. Disaster lay down that path....

If, and that was a big if, he ever decided to marry, Sophia Lorraine Tanner would not be up for consideration. Not ever.

She was trouble, pure and simple. Too impulsive. Too headstrong. Too much. No, if he did decide to find himself a wife, he’d search for someone sensible, cautious and levelheaded. Someone like him.

Chapter Two

Sophie wrapped a hand around the wooden post for support and attempted to appear nonchalant about the effects of Nathan’s touch. His nearness. It wasn’t as if such touches were rare. They were friends, had been friends as far back as she could remember, and while her handsome neighbor had strict ideas about what constituted appropriate behavior, he was an affectionate man. Compassionate, too. Dependable and trustworthy.

Nathan was everything her wayward pa wasn’t. He would never dream of doing something as despicable as abandoning his pregnant wife and child for another woman.

“How’s Tobias?” he asked.

Sophie tracked a pair of dragonflies flitting on the wind, their iridescent wings a mix of blue and silvery green. The worry she’d battled since her granddad had taken ill three weeks ago eroded her peace of mind. “Still the same. Weak. The medicine Doc Owens gave him doesn’t seem to be helping the cough. I try to encourage him to eat, but he doesn’t have much of an appetite.”

“I’ll ask Ma to make him some of her chicken noodle soup.”

Feeling his gaze on her, she turned her head and found strength and a promise of support in the silver depths. “Surely he won’t be able to resist that.” Her attempt at a smile fell flat. “He won’t get well on my cooking alone.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. What if he didn’t get better? What would she do without the only real father figure she’d ever had? Her grandfather had practically raised her and her little brother, Will, after her pa left and her ma passed away.

“I don’t like that look on your face,” he gently reproved. “Don’t let your mind go there. We’re all praying for Tobias’s recovery.” A grin transformed his serious face. “Besides, you know as well as I do what a tough old codger he is. Stubborn, too. Though not nearly as stubborn as his granddaughter.”

That earned him a punch in the arm. “If anyone is stubborn around here, it’s you, Nathan O’Malley.”

Chuckling, he rubbed his arm as if it had really hurt. “I won’t deny it.” Jerking his head, he said, “Come on, I’ll walk you home and look in on him. See if I can’t convince him to eat something.”

Following him down the worn steps and into the lush grass, she moved to walk beside him, keenly aware of his height, the restrained power in his hardened body and the self-assuredness with which he carried himself. He smelled of summer, of line-dried clothes and freshly cut hay. And maybe a little of pecans and corn syrup, which made her regret refusing a piece of Mary’s pie.

As they passed the dairy barn, she noticed the cows weren’t crowded around the entrance and all seemed quiet. “You already did the milking?”

“Supper was a tad late getting on the table, so I did it beforehand.”

“On my way here, I spotted Caleb heading for the high country.” She tossed him a sideways glance. “How long is he going to be gone this time?”

Shrugging, he blew out a breath. “I suppose that depends on how long it takes him to snag a bear.”

She dodged a fat bumblebee that zoomed into her path. “When are you going to stop coddling him, Nathan? He has a responsibility to you and the rest of your family.”

“In his mind, he is fulfilling his responsibilities. By stocking the smokehouse with all the meat he brings home, he’s helping to feed the family. Not to mention the trade value of the hides and furs.”

Passing into the dense forest where the air was sweet and cool, the lowering sun’s rays filtered through the towering oaks, maples and various other trees, casting sidelong lines of light that made odd patterns on their clothing.

“I understand the accident changed him...and not only on the outside.” It had been a painful thing to witness the almost night-and-day change in his personality nearly two years ago. She missed the fun-loving, mischievous Caleb and feared her childhood playmate was gone for good. “I just don’t think it’s fair that he goes off whenever he feels like it and leaves you behind to do all the work.”