Page 16 of Scarlett

Finally, they went up the two steps to the porch and Aurora opened the front door allowing her inside.

To the right was a large sitting area with a sofa and two chairs in front of a stone fireplace. Over the fireplace, a large mirror reflected the light from the windows. Just inside the door to the right was a long table, atop of it a lamp and a tray with miscellaneous items.

To her left, through a wide opening, was a dark wooden dining table and chairs. On the far side she spied what looked to be the kitchen.

Once inside the front room, to the right of the fireplace wall was a hallway, she assumed led to the bedrooms.

“Why don’t you put your bag and shawl on one of the chairs,” Aurora instructed as she did the same, placing her shawl over the back of a chair. “It’s such a warm day, I almost left my shawl behind.”

Evan entered and continued on past with the trunk.

“How many bedrooms are there?” Scarlett asked, watching him disappear down the short hallway and into a room on the left.

“Three. It’s a nice sized house. Let’s have a cup of tea while Evan places your items into the spare bedroom.” Aurora walked into the dining room and on past with Scarlett following.

Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was functional and pristine. On a counter were a washbowl that was sunk into the surface and bowls used for preparation of food.

“So many shelves and this beautiful cabinet,” Scarlett said walking around the room. “I love how spacious it is in here.”

“When we built our new home, I ensured my kitchen was like this one,” Aurora said placing a teakettle onto the stove surface.

“Do you cook?” Scarlett had to ask, as Aurora seemed to come from high society by her mannerisms and speech.

Her new friend laughed. “Yes, I do. I enjoy cooking. Do you?”

It was Scarlett’s turn to chuckle. “I do, but must admit, I am not very good at it. I suppose the more I practice the better it will get. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”

“Don’t worry. Gladys, a woman who helps at the clinic, lives right next door. She is a wonderful cook. You can learn a great deal from her.”

They sat down to have a cup of tea as Aurora continued telling her all about her own arrival and how she and Evan didn’t care for one another upon first meeting.

Scarlett kept an eye on the doorway the entire time wondering when her soon to be husband would appear.

Finally, she asked, “Is Emmett here?”

Aurora covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh my goodness. I’m so excited for you to be here, I haven’t asked Evan if Emmett is presentable. I do apologize.”

After Aurora called to him, it took a few moments before Evan appeared. He looked to Scarlett. “Emmett would like to meet you now. I do apologize it took so long. I wanted to ensure you would be safe and not exposed to his illness.”

“Is it contagious?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. However with the proper precautions, you should be fine. Aurora and I have been here for several weeks without becoming ill.”

Her heartbeat hard against her breast, and Scarlett fought to keep her breathing even as she entered the dim room. Although the only window was open allowing for fresh air, the sun was not in the proper position to allow enough light in. However, there was a lamp on the nightstand, which helped illuminate the bed.

On a wide bed sat a man propped up with pillows, who studied her with interest. Despite his flushed face and uncombed hair, he was quite handsome. Like his brother, his hair was dark blond. She couldn’t quite identify the color of his eyes as yet.

If possible, he was better looking than his brother, Scarlett mused. Once recovered, Emmett Jones would be breathtaking.

“Miss Franklin, I apologize for not being at the train station to greet you.” He had a deep voice and his direct gaze did not waver.

Scarlett peered down at her hands before meeting his gaze. “It is understandable. Aurora and your brother have been very welcoming in assisting me today.”

He motioned to a chair. “Evan demands you come no closer than there. Please sit down.”

Once settled into the comfortable upholstered chair, she considered what type of conversation did a woman have with a soon to be husband one had never met before. If not for the intense man, she would have laughed.

“How are you feeling today, Dr. Jones?”