“I’ve been told that before.”
“Tell me something,” she said, her hands resting on the letters. “Why didn’t you marry a nice girl in New Orleans? Surely you could have had your pick of possible wives.”
“Is that a compliment? Are you flattering me, Mrs. Landry?”
Faith picked up one of the envelopes and swatted at him. “I’m serious. Why didn’t you marry a girl and stay home? Why take a chance on me, clear out here?”
He watched her for a moment, and her heart sped up. Could Celia have been right? Had he fallen in love with her simply from her letters?
“I looked forward to your letters more than I looked forward to conversation with anyone else,” he finally said.
Faith swallowed. Celiawasright. It made no sense at all, but it was true. “I don’t understand how.”
His lips curved up into that lazy smile. It reminded her of long summer Sundays in Mississippi. “I don’t either. But that’s when I knew I wanted to marry you.”
Faith’s cheeks went warm again. None of this made any sense whatsoever, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like the way he made her feel.
So long as she didn’t think too hard about it, anyway.
He raised a hand and let his fingers drift slowly across her cheek. “You’re even more beautiful when you blush.”
It was too much—the words, the touch of his hand, the way his golden eyes seemed to melt her insides. Faith cleared her throat and took a step backward. “I thought I told you that flattery would get you nowhere.”
He grinned and leaned an elbow on the counter. “I know. I like that about you too.”
Faith wanted to throw her hands up. This man confused her more than anyone had in her entire life. Instead, she busied herself with dusting the already clean counter. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and—”
The telegraph clicked at that moment, and Beau slid around the counter to take the seat before the machine, pencil and paper already in hand. Faith stood behind him, dust rag dangling from her hand, and eyes wide as he wrote down the message.
“It’s a reply to the telegram Mrs. Purcell sent earlier,” he said. “From her brother in St. Louis. If you’ll be all right, I’ll run this message over to her husband’s office.”
Faith nodded slowly, and before she knew it, Beau had grabbed his hat and was out the door.
Who was this man? Beau Landry was far more accomplished than she ever could have imagined.
And for some reason, he’d chosen her, the one woman who couldn’t return his love.
