The shoulder was gravel and dirt and not wide enough to walk on. Would it be any cooler if she could take to the dirt instead of the asphalt? She was growing grateful to her guide that he’d taken the backpack. She was so hot!
“She does. And makes the best pancakes this side of the Mississippi. You tell her you want some one morning and she’ll pile them on your plate. You look like you need some good down-home cooking.”
Angelica frowned. Was that a backhanded comment about her slender frame? Or an insult? Did he think women needed more curves to be attractive?
What did she care? He was some backwoods guy, not one of the men of influence she was used to dating. Not a patron of thearts, not a subscriber to the symphony. He probably wouldn’t recognize genuine world class music if it hit him on the head.
His longer gait had her rushing to keep up. Not that she’d ask for him to slow down. That’d only prolong her listening to the slow Southern drawl and risk forgetting any good sense remaining.
Though how dashing away in the night showed good sense, she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t been a prisoner. She should have stayed and shown the logic of her choices.
Only, she still couldn’t envision herself standing up against her parents. They had done so much for her. They only wanted the very best. How ungrateful she’d be to rail against everything.
And it wasn’t as if she was turning her back on her life. For the most part she enjoyed music. It was only lately—she needed a break. She was flat-out burned out.
Try as she might, they never listened to her. Always pushing, always saying they knew what was best for her. She was almost twenty-eight years old. Surely she had to know what was best for her by now.
Coming here without confirming her would be host was available didn’t show such good sense—even she had to admit that. But she had come and now she’d make the most of whatever chance she found. It was only temporary. Worst case, she could relax for a few days and then make new plans.
Through the trees she caught a glimpse of a large white clapboard structure. As they rounded a slight bend in the road, Angelica saw the house straight-on. A bit shabby in appearance, nevertheless it was impressive, with a wide porch, dormer windows flanked by green shutters and an immaculate green lawn. Flowering bushes encircled the base of the house. A colorful flower plot in the center of the lawn surrounded an old oak tree whose shade was just starting to touch the wide frontporch of the house. Rocking chairs and benches lined up in a row.
Did every building in Smoky Hollow have a porch? She’d heard Southerners were laid back group. It had to be the heat. She’d like to lie down until the temperature dropped about twenty degrees. Maybe sitting in the shade was the next best thing.
Kirk stepped on the porch and banged on a screen door. The wooden door to the house stood open wide and a moment later a woman bustled down the hall that stretched out from the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“Kirk, gracious, good to see you. Is there something wrong?”
“Hey Sally Ann. I brought you a paying guest.”
“I declare.”
She opened the screen door and stepped out, looking at Angelica with curiosity.
“Was I expecting you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly and smiling.
She tucked the dish towel in the top of her apron.
Angelica shook her head.
“Mr. Devon said you might have room. I came to see Webb Francis Muldoon and learned he’s not here.”
“No, poor man, sick as can be in Bryceville. Mae went over this morning to see him. Evelyn and Paul will be going tomorrow. When are you going back, Kirk?”
“Might take this young lady to see him tomorrow if that’s what she wants,” he said, flicking a glance at Angelica.
Angelica studied him for a moment. Her common sense told her to stay away from this man. She could forget her own name if she wasn’t careful. Yet if he offered transportation she’d take it.
With her expected ally gone, she needed to reassess everything. How long would Webb Francis be sick? What was she to do in the meantime?
“I’d pay for the ride to Bryceville,” she said looking straight at Kirk.
His face pulled into a frown.
“Not if I’m going that way anyway. I’ll leave around ten. Meet me at the store.”
He turned and gave Sally Ann a wide smile.
“You take care of this one. She’s not used to Kentucky.”
