Karen Kirst - The Husband Hunt

As she finished her sandwich, the salty ham and cheese between soft white bread chasing away her hunger pangs, he helped himself to the cake.

She dabbed her mouth with her napkin before broaching the subject that had been bothering her ever since she’d interrupted the conversation between him and her granddad last evening.

“What were you and Granddad talking about when I came into his room? The two of you looked awfully serious.”

Nathan’s bleak expression had troubled her long into the night.

Now he schooled his features into a careful blandness that scared her. If he was trying to avoid hurting her, then she was right to worry.

“Nothing special.” His fingers tightened on the jar balanced on his thigh. “I tried to tempt him with Ma’s cooking but he insisted he wasn’t hungry. He doesn’t seem to have much energy.”

An understatement. “Doc Owens has been tight-lipped, as usual, but I can tell by his manner that he’s concerned.”

“When is he supposed to come and check on him again?”

“In a couple of days, unless he gets worse and I need him before then....” Please, Lord, don’t let that be the case. “Are you sure that’s all you talked about? He didn’t say anything strange?”

Nathan lifted the jar to his mouth. “Like what?”

“Like asking you to marry me.”

He choked. Sputtered. “Marry you?” His brows shot to his hairline, and he jammed his thumb into his chest. “Me? And you?”

Humiliation burned in her cheeks. Shoving to her feet, she glared down at him with clenched fists. “Is the prospect of marrying me so distasteful, then? You think no man in this town would want me?”

“No! That’s not it!” He quickly stood, his eyes dark and searching. “You just shocked me is all. D-did Tobias suggest it to you?”

“No.”

The relief skittering across his face pierced her heart. Sent her confidence tumbling. Unable to look at him, she observed a ladybug clinging to a swaying stalk at her feet. “He did suggest I start thinking of settling down. That I need a man around to take care of me,” she scoffed. “Imagine!”

She’d been taking care of herself since she was eight. Why did Granddad think she needed help?

Weren’t you thinking the same thing just last night? an unwelcome voice reminded.

“He’s your grandfather. Of course he wants to see you settled and happy.” Nathan looked particularly unsettled, a line forming between his brows as he looked past her to the cabin.

“A husband can’t guarantee me that.” Her own mother’s misery was proof.

He shifted his gaze back to hers. “Tobias wants to make certain your future is taken care of.”

“You make it sound as if he’s not going to be around for it,” she accused.

“Sophie—” He moved to close the distance between them, but the sympathy wreathing his mouth sent her a step back, away from him.

“Don’t.” She held up a staying hand. She couldn’t handle his compassion right this moment, couldn’t bring herself to face what was happening to her grandfather. Not if she didn’t want the tears welling up to spill over. Losing control of her emotions in front of this man wasn’t something she was willing to do.

Will’s whistling saved her.

Nathan twisted around, silent as her brother approached with a proud smile, pail swinging from one hand and his pole in the other. “I caught four rainbow trout,” he told them, lifting the pail for them to inspect.

“Nice catch,” Nathan admitted, but his somber gaze was on Sophie.

“I’ll take those inside for you,” she quickly volunteered, taking the pail from his willing hand. Tilting her head to indicate the quilt spread out behind them, she said, “Nathan brought us lunch. Help yourself.”

Will’s eyes lit up. “Miss Mary’s the best cook around.” Setting his pole out of the way, he plopped down and began rifling through the basket.

Before Nathan could speak, she rushed ahead. “Thank you for everything today. I should go in and change. I have errands in town this afternoon.”

He nodded slowly. “I have chores waiting, too. I’ll keep Will company while he eats, then head out.”

“See you later, then?”

“Later.”

The promise in his deep baritone let her know not only would he be seeing her, but sooner or later they would finish this conversation.

* * *

The bell above the mercantile door jingled. Sophie didn’t look up from the two thread spools she was trying to choose between. Because her brother spent much of his time on his knees in the creek, it seemed like every other week there was another tear for her to mend.

Light footfalls and feminine giggles drifted closer. She frowned. Recognizing the voices, she peered over her shoulder and spotted April Littleton and her two closest friends, sisters Lila and Norma Jean Oglesby. The same age as Sophie, the trio was extremely popular with Gatlinburg’s single male population. And why shouldn’t they be? Besides being beautiful and stylish in their pastel dresses and beribboned curls, they were accomplished flirts, able to monopolize a man’s attention with very little effort.

Next to them, Sophie felt ordinary. Gauche.

April caught her staring. Brown eyes narrowing, she made no attempts to hide her disdain.

“Hello, Sophie.” Her nose pinched as if the air around her suddenly reeked.

An only child born to her parents late in life, April had been coddled and adored from the moment of her birth, and the results were a spoiled, self-absorbed young woman. Her parents weren’t well-off, just simple farm folk like many of the families in this mountain town, but they scrimped and saved to be able to outfit her as if she was a city debutante.

“Hi, Sophie.” Lila offered her a tentative smile. The older sister, Norma Jean, remained silent. Both were slender, blonde and blue-eyed with fair skin.

“Hello.” She quickly replaced one of the spools without making a conscious color choice. No reason to linger for what would prove to be an unpleasant encounter.

April’s jealousy fueled her dislike of Sophie. Not of her appearance, of course. April didn’t consider her competition. It was Sophie’s friendship with Nathan that she envied. Even if Lila hadn’t let that little nugget slip, it was obvious the dark beauty wanted him for herself, and it killed her that Sophie shared any sort of connection with him.

“We were discussing our outfits for the church social tomorrow night,” April said with mock innocence. “What are you going to wear, Sophie?”

Clutching the thread, she pivoted to face them. Shrugged as if she didn’t care. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

April raked her from head to toe and shot a knowing glance at Norma Jean. “Of course you haven’t.”

“Tell her about your new dress,” Lila encouraged her friend, her round face devoid of malice. Sophie sometimes wondered why Lila would waste her time with a girl like April. The seventeen-year-old appeared to have a good heart.

April’s eyes shone with confidence as she ran her hands over her glossy brown ringlets. “It’s buttercup-yellow...”

She went on to describe the dress in excruciating detail. Sophie tuned her out, biding her time until she could escape. She had no interest in scalloped hems and pearl buttons.

The mention of Nathan’s name snapped her out of her reverie.

“What was that about Nathan?”

“I’m making Nathan’s favorite for the social. Apple pie.”

Sophie bit her lip. That wasn’t his favorite—it was rhubarb.

“What are you bringing?” Norma Jean smirked. “Sausages?”

The girls’ laughter stirred her temper. For once, Sophie wanted to prove she was as capable as any other girl. “Actually, I’m baking a pie, too,” she blurted.