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“I don’t know many people,” she said quickly, “and I have to finish my pie. I couldn’t possibly—”
“An apple pie?”
“Yes. It’s for dinner. My father loves apple pie. He—”
“How can you make an apple pie without apples?”
She looked at him, then at the bowl that had a moment before been filled with apple slices. “Mr. Montgomery!” she said, sounding like a schoolteacher, “you have eaten the entire pie!”
“An easy thing for a person to do,” he said slowly, watching her.
Nellie knew instantly that he was referring to her having eaten all of the dessert the night he came to dinner. Blood rushed to her face as she remembered her shame, but then she looked at him. His eyes were twinkling, and that dimple showed in his cheek. He was teasing her.
Her embarrassment left her, and she smiled at him, that warm smile that transformed her into a beauty. “It seems to be very easy for me,” she said, laughing. “Now what am I going to serve for dinner? We have no more apples.”
His eyes were dancing. “I guess you’ll have to walk to the store and buy more.”
“So it seems.”
“Maybe I should walk along with you, just in case of danger.”
“Yes, perhaps you should. The streets of Chandler can be quite dangerous. Why, only last year two boys on bicycles ran into each other.”
“No! That’s horrifying! Who knows when something like that might happen again? I definitely think you need an escort.”
“I rather think I do, too,” Nellie said softly. Part of her mind was telling her to say no, that she should stay home and finish cooking. She should dismiss this overly familiar man and get on with her work. She was sure it wasn’t at all proper for him to saunter into the kitchen as he’d done. But there was another part of her mind that told her to go. It would be very pleasant to walk with this handsome man and say hello to people. Maybe, just for this one afternoon, she could pretend that she was like other young women and a handsome young man had come to call on her.
She removed her apron and hung it on a hook by the door. She should probably go upstairs and get a hat, should probably look at herself in a mirror, but she was afraid that if she left him alone he might disappear. She didn’t have Terel’s confidence that even if she kept a man waiting for hours, he’d be there when she showed up.
She turned to Jace and smiled. “I’m ready.”
He smiled back. He was very pleased that she didn’t spend an hour or so primping before a mirror before she’d leave the house. It was his experience that women as beautiful as Nellie gave much time and thought to adorning themselves.
He stepped aside so she could walk in front of him through the door, and he admired the gentle sway of her hips. A bit of hair straggled about her neck, and he had an urge to lift it and kiss her fine skin.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Jace said when he realized Nellie was speaking. He’d opened the gate for her, and they were on the boardwalk.
“I forgot my basket.” She turned back to the house.
He couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight, and he was afraid that if she went back to the house he’d never get her out again. “I’ll carry all your purchases.” He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and lifted the little tendril of hair, his fingertips lingering on her neck. Her skin was as fine and as warm as he’d imagined.
Nellie was startled when he touched her, and then embarrassed. Was her hair such a mess? Of course it was. After dusting, weeding, cooking, and washing, she knew she had to look dreadful.
“I must—” she began, then she stepped back quickly.
She stepped right into Miss Emily, a tall, thin, very proper older woman who ran Miss Emily’s Tea Shop. Miss Emily’s packages went scattering about the boardwalk.
“I’m so sorry,” Nellie began, angry at herself for seeming never to do anything right. She stooped and started gathering packages.
Miss Emily remained standing and looked down at the two young people gathering her packages. She could have let the shop deliver her purchases for her, but she found that when a woman of her age walked about town carrying bundles some very interesting things happened.
“Well, Nellie,” Miss Emily said when they were standing. The young man was holding her packages and beaming at Nellie as though he were the cat that had eaten the cream. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your young man?”
“Mr. Montgomery isn’t…I mean, we aren’t…” Nellie stammered, flushing.
Jace grinned, making Miss Emily blink. He was a splendid-looking young man. “I may not be yet, but I mean to be her young man,” he said slowly. “I’m Jace Montgomery.”
“Emily,” she answered, “or Miss Emily, if you prefer.” She gave a hard, shrewd look at Jace. “I must say, young man, that you look pleased with yourself.”
“I am.” He looked at Nellie, whose face was still pink. “What man wouldn’t be when escorting such a beautiful woman?”
Nellie again felt like looking behind her to see whom he meant, but she could see that he was smiling down at her.
“Well, well, well,” Miss Emily said. “At last there’s a man in this town with some sense. Nellie is a fine young woman, quite, quite fine, and you’ll do very well to hang on to her.”
Jace took Nellie’s hand and slipped her arm through his. “I think I might do that,” he said, smiling at Miss Emily.
“Come to my shop for tea,” Miss Emily said.
“I’m sorry, but I have to return home and—”
“We’ll be there,” Jace said as Miss Emily took her packages and started walking.
Jace began walking in the opposite direction, Nellie’s arm held securely in his.
“Mr. Montgomery,” Nellie began, “you really can’t say things like that.”
“Say things like what?”
“That I…I am beautiful, and that you are my young man. You will give people the wrong impression about us.”
It never crossed Jace’s mind that Nellie didn’t know she was beautiful. It was his experience that beautiful women often complained about their lack of looks, and he knew that when they did, it was because they wanted compliments. He wasn’t ready to yet give extravagant compliments to Nellie. He wanted his hands to be on her body when he told her how beautiful she was. “What would be the right impression about us?”
“That you work for my father, and that, as his hostess, I feel I should…” Should what, she thought. She’d never gone walking with any of her father’s other employees.
“Should introduce me to the citizenry of Chandler,” he finished for her. “Which is why I think we should go to Miss Emily’s shop.” Abruptly, he stopped and looked down at her. His face was quite serious, as he’d just had an awful thought. “You don’t dislike me, do you, Nellie? Maybe you’d rather not be seen with me. Maybe I’m not—well—appealing to you.”
Nellie could only look up at him; she was capable of saying nothing. Dislike him? Unappealing? He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. He was kind, thoughtful, warm, funny, and charming. “I like you,” she whispered.
“Good.” He tucked her arm in his more securely and started walking again. “Now, tell me about this town.”
Nellie tried to relax somewhat, but it was difficult. She didn’t understand him because he was different from any man she’d ever met. Most men looked her up and down then ignored her. A few men had shown some interest in her, but it was usually for her cooking and her housekeeping skills. Four years ago a widower with five children had asked her father for Nellie’s hand in marriage. Nellie would have married him—she would love to have children—but Charles and Terel had been so upset that Nellie had turned the man down. Her father and Terel had said the man only wanted to use her to take care of his children, that he didn’t really care for Nellie and she should wait for the “right” man to come along. Nellie hadn’t been foolish enough to believe the man loved her, and she had kn