Branch took his time looking around the shop before he moved over to the workbench, rested an elbow on it, dropped his hat beside his arm, and leaned close to her. “There is, but today is not the day to make my request. Where’s your father?”
“He …” Lucy knew it wouldn’t be wise to mention her father’s reaction to the article in the newspaper. She had no idea if Branch was a Patriot or a Loyalist, or even a Redcoat spy. Anything was possible, and his comments had done nothing to confirm his beliefs one way or another. “Papa went for a walk.” That much was true.
“In that case, I don’t suppose you’d be free to take a stroll with me, would you?” Branch glanced around again. “Theo could come along as a chaperone.”
“Why on earth would you want me to take a walk with you, Mr. Barton? I don’t believe we have anything in common. You certainly—” Lucy snapped her mouth shut before she said something she would regret.
“I certainly what, Miss Carlson?” he asked, grinning at her in that endearing, boyish way he had that was both charming and distracting.
“It isn’t of importance, sir.” Lucy would have busied herself with cleaning the shop just for something to do, but she couldhardly feign the task with the windows sparkling in the morning light.
“Hmm.” He continued leaning on his elbow, studying her.
“What was that song you were whistling?” she blurted, unable to bear his quiet scrutiny.
Branch’s grin broadened. “‘The Raggle Taggle Gypsy.’ Do you know it?”
Lucy shook her head. “It is not familiar to me.”
Branch straightened and sang the words in his resonant baritone voice. Lucy was so taken with its tone and depth, she nearly forgot to listen to the story the song told of a woman who abandoned her wealth and home for the love of a gypsy.
“What do you think, Miss Carlson? Was the woman an idiot or brilliant for following love?”
Lucy smiled. “Perhaps a little of both.”
Branch laughed, and the sound of it made her smile.
Theo skipped into the shop, his face full of delight as he hurried over to Branch. “Hello, Mr. Barton.”
“Hello there, Theo!” Branch bent down when he spoke to him, so he didn’t tower over the child.
Lucy found that small kindness endearing, then grew annoyed at herself for finding anything about Branch endearing, and angry at Branch for behaving so … wonderfully. It was far easier to dislike him when he was teasing or tormenting her.
“Please, Lucy? Can’t we?” Theo was asking in a pleading tone. Lucy realized she had let her thoughts wander instead of listening to their conversation.
“I don’t think—”
“That’s a splendid idea,” Ward Carlson said as he walked into the shop, the angry expression he had worn earlier replaced with a friendly smile.
“But I …” Lucy had no idea what it was she ought to be protesting. The thought of spending time with Branch had left her mind troubled, but her heart eager.
“You and Theo should take a walk with Mr. Barton. The fresh air would do you good. While you’re out, you can stop by the market and purchase a fish for our dinner. If anyone has peaches for sale, purchase a dozen of those.”
“But, Papa, we should …” Lucy couldn’t think of a single thing to say, especially when both Branch and Theo were giving her imploring looks.
“Go get your bonnet and basket. That’s what you should do,” her father said, nudging her toward the doorway to the storage room. “I’ll speak with Mr. Barton while you get your things. Theo, be sure to wear your hat, and tell your mother where you’re going.”
“Yes, Papa,” Theo said, racing ahead of Lucy to the kitchen.
“Mama, Papa said we can walk with Mr. Barton, and we’re going to get a fish and peaches,” Theo said so quickly, his words all ran together.
Cleta wiped her hands on a towel, then cupped Theo’s chin. “It sounds like a wonderful adventure for both of you. Have fun.”
Lucy yanked on her market bonnet and secured it at the back of her head, then picked up the basket her mother gave her, along with money for the purchases.
“If you happen upon a treat, be sure to enjoy it,” Cleta said, dropping an extra coin in Lucy’s hand. She leaned close and lowered her voice so Theo wouldn’t hear. “I do believe Mr. Barton is quite taken with you.”
Lucy scoffed. “I hope not, Mama. The man is …” Lucy couldn’t give voice to any of the thoughts that flooded her mind. Branch Barton was handsome, entertaining, irritating, confident, boyish, boorish, and fascinating. No. She certainly couldn’t say any of those things to her mother.
