He laid the gifts on the table. “I’d think a young woman of your standing would appreciate a second opinion when it comes to making the most important decision of her life. You’d ask for as much if you were purchasing horses, or cattle, or a piece of land.”
“If I need a second opinion, I’ll ask the minister.” Couldn’t the man just leave?
“The circuit rider who shows up once a month?” He scoffed. “Personally, I’m surprised McKenzie has time to court. How long does he plan on staying in Texas? Doesn’t he have an editing job to get back to in Pennsylvania?” His eyes glistened like steel.
She gnawed her lip. “I can’t see that it’s any of your concern.” She clasped her hands to her middle. “I’m sorry you had to ride all the way out here for disappointing news. I’ve appreciated your professional help with my family, and I?—”
“I have very much enjoyed your company, Cora.” Arthur settled into one of the cane rockers. “I’d graciously take my leave if it weren’t for the fact I rode eight miles under the expectations I’d be a welcome guest.” He tossed the tea onto the opposite rocker and set his hat atop the book. “If I might be so bold as to impose upon your hospitality, I’d appreciate a few minutes in the shade of your porch and a glass of cider.”
She blew out a breath. “If you want cider, you need to pick another topic of conversation.”
“As you wish.” He drummed his fingers on the chair arm.
She’d give the man a half hour. If he still dilly-dallied, she’d call Charlie over to the porch to sit on the steps and snap beans. “Wait here.” She gritted her teeth and headed inside.She wouldn’t allow Arthur to rattle her. He was a genius at disrupting her calm with pinpricks aimed at every potential wound she possessed. How had she ever thought she should consider a life with him?
Gray clouds rolled overhead as she passed out the back door and down the hill to the springhouse to fetch the cider jug. Pin pricks of moisture dotted her skin. Arthur needed to finish his visit and be on his way before he had the excuse of rain to keep him here.
What were Ben’s future plans? Since his arrival, he’d stubbornly insisted he’d stay until she no longer needed his help. But that was before the kiss two weeks ago and his words—you’re the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. Surely, he knew the rest of their lives meant the Texas frontier.
My goodness, she was getting so far ahead of herself that she’d left the train station in the dust without the train. There was no guarantee Ben would propose. She pushed the thoughts aside as she ducked her head and entered the cool dark of the springhouse.
Upon her return to the porch, Arthur rose. “Thank you, Cora.” His gloved fingers brushed against her pinky as she handed him the glass. “None for yourself?”
“I’m not thirsty.” She smoothed her hands against her skirt. “I thought I’d?—”
“Surely, you’ll grant me the pleasure of your company for a few minutes.” He motioned toward the second rocker. “For the sake of our friendship.”
Didn’t she have dusting to do? But what kind of hostess would she be if she ignored her guest? He’d traveled here based on her open invitation. He’d sat with her as her father died. She could at least be civil.
He settled into his chair once more, and she perched on the edge of the other rocker. Charlie glared across the yard, where hepositioned himself and the mare at the very edge of the stable. Plumes of dust flew from Sandy’s hide as he worked the curry comb back and forth.
As Arthur sipped his cider, he talked about his patients in Dallas, then about the land his father had given him, north of Weatherford, land that had once belonged to his cousins, where he hoped to start his own ranch.
She drew her silk fan out of her pocket and waved it back and forth in front of her face as she listened and commented, now and then. If this conversation lasted much longer, her chemise would be plastered to her back with sweat.
Charlie tromped up to the end of the porch. “I’m finished.” Smudges of dirt marred his cheeks and his once-white shirt.
Arthur reached into his trouser pocket. “I’ll give you a dime if you feed and water my gelding.”
Charlie tipped his head to the side as if weighing the size of the dime. “I got work to do.”
Arthur laid the coin beside his hat on the table. “As soon as my horse is taken care of, I can be on my way.”
Charlie’s glance flickered between the money, the man, and Cora. “I’ll do it.” He huffed and headed for the roan.
She stared after him, half tempted to jump off the porch and go help.
Arthur leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure Mr. McKenzie is a fine fellow in many respects.”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about him.” Cora swatted a fly.
“It’s my duty as your physician and friend to advise you.” Arthur puffed out his chest.
“My decision to accept Mr. McKenzie’s courtship isn’t a medical issue.”
“If you end up with your dreams and heart crushed…like your mother’s…it’s every bit the concern of your doctor and true friend.”
Her eyebrows edged upward. True? “I’m not my mother. And Mr. McKenzie, despite a supposed similarity, is not my father.”
