The Husband Hunt

* * *

“You don’t expect me to eat a slice of that pie, do you?” Will bounced on his toes, eager to make his escape.

Sophie slid it onto the dessert table in between a towering stack cake and a buttermilk pie. “It doesn’t look half bad.” She eyed her creation critically.

While the crust wasn’t perfectly round and smooth, it did have an appealing golden hue like the other pies on the table. And the rhubarb filling had filled the cabin with a sweet, pleasant aroma. She’d followed her ma’s recipe carefully. Surely it would be edible. Maybe even good.

“I don’t understand why you decided to make one, anyway,” Will said doubtfully. “You don’t bake.”

She couldn’t understand it, either. Oh, yeah. April and her insults. And a desire to prove to those girls—and Nathan, too—that they were wrong about her. That she was more than just a rough-around-the-edges, act-before-she-thought-it-through tomboy.

“There’s a first time for everything,” she told him with false confidence.

“Hey, Will.” Redheaded, freckled Charlie Layton halted midstride and motioned him over. “We’re gettin’ ready to race. Want to join us?”

“Sure thing!” With a muttered farewell, he ran to join Charlie. The two friends jogged off in the direction of the trees edging the church property where a group of about twenty boys their age had gathered.

The social was already in full swing, many of the men clustered alongside the white clapboard church, no doubt comparing farming techniques or debating quicker, more improved trade routes with the larger towns of Maryville and Sevierville, while the women relaxed on quilts, chatting and laughing and tending to fussy infants. Children darted in and out of the mix, chasing each other in friendly games of tag. Courting couples strolled arm in arm in the distance, keen on a little privacy.

At six o’clock, the heat of the day lingered despite the puffed cotton clouds suspended in the cerulean sky. Not even a hint of a breeze stirred the air. Sophie’s neck was damp beneath her braid, and she pictured her ma’s honey-blond hair arranged in a sleek, efficient bun, a throwback to her childhood in a strict Knoxville orphanage. If Jeanine had lived, would she have taught Sophie how to arrange her hair the same way? She’d tried her hand at it, of course, but with disastrous results.

“Sophie?”

Kenny Thacker weaved through the tables to reach her.

“Hi, Kenny.” She smiled at the skinny, pleasant young man who, because of their last names and the teacher’s penchant for alphabetical seating, had occupied the seat beside her throughout school.

“The guys are arm wrestling out at the old stump.” He gestured behind the church. “They sent me to ask if you’re up to joining us.”

She really shouldn’t. However, she did get a kick out of showing up guys like her pa who thought girls were weaker and dumber than them.

“I think Preston wants a rematch. He can’t accept that he was beaten by a girl.” He grinned broadly.

Sophie debated. She sure wouldn’t mind besting that arrogant Preston Williams a second time.

“Well, I—”

“Oh, hey, Nathan.” Kenny nodded in greeting.

Turning her head, her wide gaze landed on her too-handsome-for-words neighbor. Wearing a charcoal-gray shirt that molded to his corded shoulders and broad chest, the deep color made his silver eyes glow and shorn hair gleam a richer brown. Black trousers emphasized his long, lean legs, and he wore a sharp-looking pair of black leather lace-up boots. Quiet confidence radiated from his stance, his square shoulders and straight spine, his determined jaw and the unspoken message in his expression that he could handle any challenge that came his way.

Nathan wasn’t the showy type. Nor was he a man who liked to be the center of attention. His appeal was his complete unawareness of his attractiveness, his obliviousness to the single young ladies’ admiring glances.

Sophie hadn’t heard his approach, but apparently he’d been there long enough to hear Kenny’s question because his cool gaze was watching her closely, waiting for her response.

What will it be? his eyes seemed to challenge. Will you do the proper thing, or will you give in to impulse and act the hoyden?

Because she knew that no matter what she did she could not ultimately win his approval, Sophie was tempted to do it simply to irk him.

“I’m ready now, Nathan.” Pauline Johnson approached with a goofy grin and a buoyant light in her eyes. The tall, curvaceous blonde, stunning in teal, sidled close to Nathan. “Oh, hello, Sophie. Kenny.”

Sophie opened her mouth but couldn’t find her voice. Her heart beat out a dull tattoo. They were clearly here together. On a date. When was the last time Nathan had squired a girl around? He wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship. Wasn’t that what he always said whenever his brothers gave him a hard time about being single?

Seeing Pauline curl her hand around his forearm, Sophie felt physically ill.

“Just a minute.” He barely allowed the blonde a glance, still obviously intent on Sophie’s response to Kenny’s summons.

Sophie glanced once more at the pie. It mocked her now. The foolish piece of her heart that refused to listen to reason, that still clung to the hope that one day he’d see her as an accomplished and attractive young woman worthy of his regard, withered and died.

Jerking her chin up, she determined he would never guess how deeply he’d wounded her. “Hello, Pauline,” she said, forcing a brightness to her voice. Please let it ring true. “You’re looking lovely this evening.”

Her grin widened, cobalt eyes shining with humble gratitude. “You’re kind to say so.” She gestured over her shoulder to where the O’Malleys were gathering. “Will you be joining us?”

Us. As in Pauline and Nathan and his family.

“I’m afraid not.” Not now, anyway. Her throat thickened with despair. Admit it, you’re jealous. Ugh! The kicker was that she actually liked Pauline. The same age as Nathan, Pauline was not only beautiful but considerate, friendly, and one of the best sopranos in Gatlinburg. Folks loved it when she sang specials at church.

Smart, sensible and accomplished. Unlike Sophie, Pauline was perfect for Nathan.

The knowledge cut deep.

“I actually have other plans.” To Kenny, she said, “Tell Preston I accept his challenge.”

His eyes lit up. “Nice.”

“Sophie—” Nathan growled.

Holding up a hand, she shot a pointed glance in Pauline’s direction. “You should tend to your guest. Enjoy the picnic, Pauline.”

Head high, she pivoted on her heel and called out to Kenny, “Wait up. I’ll walk with you.”

She left him standing there, bristling with disapproval. But she refused to let it sway her decision. Worrying about Nathan O’Malley’s opinion of her was a complete waste of time.

* * *

Nathan wanted nothing more than to go after her. The young lady at his side prevented that. Probably just as well. You’re not Sophie Tanner’s keeper. Distance, remember?

“Nathan?”

Ripping his gaze from the duo’s retreating forms, he plastered a placating smile on his face. “Let’s go join my family, shall we? Or we can sit with yours, if you’d rather.”

It would spare him Josh and Kate’s curiosity. The happily wedded couple had recently started hinting it was time he think about settling down. And, since this was the first time in months—possibly years—he’d escorted a girl anywhere, they were right to have questions.

Maybe that’s why Sophie had seemed so shocked to see him with Pauline. Her face had gone as white as the clouds above—

“I’d prefer to visit with your family.” The pretty blonde beamed at him, fingers clutching his sleeve a little too possessively. Just your imagination.

A long-time acquaintance, he’d chosen Pauline Johnson because she wasn’t the type of girl to read too much into a single outing. Nor was she so romantically minded she’d be miffed at his last-minute invitation.

Leading her past the long tables sagging beneath the weight of the food, he guided her to a prime spot on a gentle knoll beneath the protective branches of a sweet gum. Josh was propped up against the trunk, lazily observing the crowd. Keen interest sparked in his expression the moment he spotted them.

Ma elbowed Pa in the ribs, nodding and smiling as if he’d given her a surprise gift. Great. He had a sinking suspicion this wasn’t going to be as fun as he’d imagined.

“Pauline, how nice to see you.” Ma gestured to an empty patchwork quilt next to theirs. “Have a seat.”

He waited until she was seated, her crisp skirts arranged around her, to lower himself a good twenty-four inches away. Not because he was afraid of his reaction to her—he’d established with immense relief that she didn’t affect him in any way, good or bad—but because he wanted no illusions to form in her mind or anyone else’s.

Her cloying perfume wafted from her sleek blond mane and tickled his nose. He sneezed.

“God bless you.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, inconveniently recalling Sophie’s natural, pleasing scent.

“How is your sister and her new husband getting along?” Mary asked. “Do they like living in Sevierville?”

Pauline’s mouth formed a moue. “Laura’s homesick. Ma wishes they’d move back here, especially before they start a family.” She relaxed back on her hands, extended so that her fingertips nearly grazed his thigh. Was that on purpose? He shifted slightly to the right.

A scowl curled his lips. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. After all, Sophie still dominated his thoughts and hadn’t that been the point of this exercise? Distraction?

Mary nodded. “I can understand. I feel so blessed Josh and Kate settled here. I’ll get to spend a lot of time doting on my first grandchild.”

The conversation turned to babies. Nathan tried to stay focused, he really did, but an irritating little voice demanded to be heard. What if Sophie got herself into a fix? Those guys could play rough sometimes. What if she got hurt?

A cloud of aggravation lodged in his chest, expanding until he couldn’t ignore it a second longer. He jumped to his feet, earning him the attention of everyone present. “I, ah, have to check on something. I’ll hurry back.”

His date’s look of confusion, his ma’s barely hidden consternation and Josh’s amusement stayed with him as he traversed the field. He was going to regret this. He just knew it.

Chapter Six

Adrenaline fueled by deep distress gave Sophie the upper edge. The sight of Nathan and Pauline looking cozy branded into her brain, she bested David Thomas. And John Beadle. And Preston Williams.

Granted, David was fifteen and spindly. And John was too much of a gentleman to put forth much effort into beating her. Cocky Preston, on the other hand, had been a true challenge. If not for her heated reaction to Nathan’s surprise date, she very well could’ve lost.

Grumbling his displeasure, Preston shoved his way through the spectators.

“Who’s next, fellas?” Sophie taunted, feeling dangerous. In this moment, she didn’t care one whit about being a lady or what anyone else thought of her. Nor did she heed the burning sensation in her forearm and biceps. She needed an outlet for the restless energy thrumming through her, the weighty disappointment clamping down on her lungs.

“Don’t you think you’ve proved your point?”

Nathan. Why was she surprised? The underlying steel in his cool voice warned her she was on shaky ground, but she wasn’t in the mood to heed it. Spinning, she clasped her hands behind her back and arched a challenging brow. “What point would that be?”

Boots planted wide, hands fisted at his sides, a muscle twitched in his rock-hard jaw. “Do you really wanna discuss this here?”

All around them, young men ceased their talking to stare.

“You started it.” She jutted her chin at a stubborn angle.

“And I’ll finish it.” His nostrils flared. “Just not in front of an audience.”

Snickers and whistles spread through the small gathering.

When he reached for her arm, she jerked away, feeling slightly panicked. What if he got her alone and her true feelings spilled out? She didn’t trust her mental muzzle right now. “Wait, don’t you wanna give it a go? Or are you afraid you might lose to a girl?”

Though his eyes glittered silver fire, his tone was gentle. “I wouldn’t want to ever hurt you, Sophie.”

She caught her breath. You already have. You just don’t realize it.

“Later, guys.” Striding past him, she walked in the opposite direction of the crowd, stopping beside a grouping of young Bradford pears. “So tell me, what was so important you felt it necessary to abandon your date?”

Folding his arms across his substantial chest, he glared at her. “Would you believe I was actually worried about you?”

When he caught sight of her surprise, he laughed derisively. “I know. Silly, huh? After all, you know exactly what you’re doing, right? You can take care of yourself.”

“Of course. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been doing that since I was a kid. I don’t need looking after, Nathan. I’m not one of your cousins, nor am I your little sister.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m quite aware of that fact.” He ran a frustrated hand through his short hair.

Nathan and sarcasm didn’t normally go hand in hand. What had him so steamed? This wasn’t the first time she’d engaged in behavior he deemed unfitting for a young lady.

Annoyance stiffened her shoulders. “Why do you have such a problem with me arm wrestling? Last I heard, it wasn’t illegal.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sophie—” Exasperation shifted quickly into resignation, and he gave a quick, hard shake of his head. “No. I told myself I wasn’t going to lecture you anymore. You’re an adult capable of making your own decisions.”

“That’s right, I am,” she huffed. “And just because you don’t happen to agree with my decisions doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

“While I agree we have different opinions about things, you can’t argue the fact that you’re flaunting clear-cut societal rules. Look around you—” he waved an impatient hand “—do you see any other young women arm wrestling? Engaging in spitting contests or tug-of-war games? Wrestling with grown men?”

Sophie lowered her gaze to the grass beneath her boot soles. She’d done all he’d said and more at one time or another. Not only did she enjoy a little friendly competition, she felt more comfortable around the guys. They didn’t judge her based on her appearance. Nor did they expect her to discuss the latest fashions and recipes or know how to quilt and then make fun of her when she didn’t.

“You don’t understand. You never have.”

“There you are.” Josh rounded the tree closest to them, his astute gaze bouncing between them. “Nathan, Pauline is wondering what happened to her escort.”

His expression shuttered. “I’m coming.”

Kate appeared a couple of steps behind, stylish in a forest-green outfit that made her skin appear dewy fresh. Today, her chocolate-brown mane had been tamed in a simple twist. “Sophie, how are you?”

“Just swell.”

“Nathan let me sample one of your sausages at lunch,” she said, her smile encompassing the two of them, “and it hit the spot. Your recipe is delicious. I have to have it.”

“Only one?” Josh winked at his wife. “Are you sure about that?”

Her cheeks pinked. “Well, maybe two. Or three. I wasn’t able to eat much breakfast, so I had to make up for the lack.”

Of their own accord, Sophie’s eyes slid to Kate’s midsection. Was that a slight bump? The dark material made it difficult to tell. When the happy couple announced last month that they were expecting, Sophie had wondered for the first time what it might be like to have a baby of her own. The prospect simultaneously intrigued and frightened the daylights out of her.

“The bacon didn’t sit well with her,” Josh explained.

“Maybe the baby doesn’t like bacon,” Sophie ventured, then blushed furiously when Nathan returned his attention to her. What an absurd thing to say. Muzzle, remember?

But Kate just laughed in delight and linked her arm through Sophie’s. “I think you may be right, dear Sophie. Why don’t you come sit with us? There’s ample space.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Just what she’d envisioned for today—observing Nathan’s courting efforts up close.

“Nonsense.” Kate waved off her resistance “You’re practically family.”

With a sinking stomach, Sophie allowed herself to be led to where the O’Malleys had gathered. As Pauline watched their approach, a tiny crease appeared between her fine brows. Of course, she had a right to wonder what had taken Nathan from her side. Her greeting smile held a hint of bravery, however, and she pulled him into the conversation with his parents with ease.

Sophie held back. Where to sit?

Kate pointed to Nathan’s blanket. “There’s space there, Sophie. We’ve loaded up extra plates of food, so help yourself.”

Reluctantly she lowered herself on his other side, as close to the edge as possible without actually sitting on the grass. Although he was concentrating on Pauline’s words, tension bracketed his mouth. Unlike all the times before when she’d joined the O’Malleys, she now felt like an intruder. An interloper. Oh, this was a nightmare! But she couldn’t very well be rude and abandon Kate after she’d gone out of her way to include her, could she?

Grabbing a plate without taking stock of its contents, she ate quickly, not really tasting any one flavor. It could have been liver and onions, for all she noticed. Conversation swirled around her. Nathan shot her a couple of furtive glances, but he didn’t speak directly to her. As if she wasn’t worth talking to. That hurt.

They were just finishing up their meal when a shadow fell across their legs. Sophie lifted her head and promptly dropped her fork.

April Littleton, looking sweetly feminine in the flowing yellow dress she’d described in the mercantile yesterday, bore a plate between her hands as if it held the Queen of England’s crown. The spiteful gleam in her eyes put Sophie on guard.

“Hello, Sophie.” Her smile smacked of gloating superiority. “Nathan.” She completely ignored Pauline.

“Hi, April.” Nathan set aside his empty plate. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been a busy woman of late, I must admit. I made this dress especially for tonight. What do you think?”

“I, ah...” Clearly not expecting such a question, he scrounged for an appropriate response. Shot Sophie a help-me look, which she ignored. What could she do but wait April out? “It’s very nice.”

April batted her lashes, cherry-red lips widening into a wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing smile. “Why, you’re kind to say so. This isn’t all I’ve been busy making, though. This here is a special family recipe—my great-grandmother Bertha’s delicious cinnamon-apple pie. I heard apple was your favorite, so I brought you a slice.”

She extended the plate toward him, which he accepted with a slight nod.

“That’s thoughtful of you, April. Thank you.”

Of course he would be polite. He wouldn’t embarrass her by correcting her. It smarted that he had no such reservations when it came to Sophie.

She stared at the plate, feeling slightly queasy. The slice closest to her was the apple. But what was the other one? Was it too much to hope it wasn’t what she suspected it was?

She craned her neck to get a glimpse.

“I also brought you a piece of Sophie’s pie,” April tacked on with an innocent air. “I haven’t tried it yet, but I sure am eager to see what it tastes like, aren’t you?”

Chapter Seven

Something told him this already dismal outing was about to get worse. Much worse.

Beside him, Sophie fidgeted with nerves, tugging on the sleeves of her brown shirt, fiddling with the collar. And April’s too-cheerful demeanor rang false. By now, Pauline and his family were watching the exchange with interest.

Shooting Sophie a quizzical glance, he kept his voice low. “I didn’t realize you’d made a pie.”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

One she regretted, judging by the way she was gnawing on her bottom lip, dread stalking her eyes. The pulse at the base of her slender throat jumped.

“What are you waiting for?” April’s silken voice prompted.

“Right.”

Dreading this almost as much as Sophie, he sank his fork into the fluffy layers of crust and soft apples and lifted it to his mouth. April hadn’t exaggerated. The blend of sweet fruit and spices melted on his tongue.

“I can understand why your family has held on to this recipe. It’s wonderful.”

Pauline leaned forward. “I like apple, too. I wish you’d brought me one, April.”

A flicker of annoyance dimmed her gloating pleasure, and she shot the blonde a look that suggested she get her own. “Now the rhubarb.”

Sophie inhaled sharply, but he didn’t look at her. Couldn’t.

Best to get this over with as quickly as possible. The pie didn’t look half bad, he mused as he forked a bite. Maybe Sophie would surprise them all.

Then again, maybe not.

The crust tasted doughy as if undercooked, and the rhubarb filling was so tart it made his jaw ache. He fought a grimace as he forced himself to chew quickly and swallow the offensive bite, blinking at the tears smarting his eyes.

“Drink,” he choked out.

Kate slapped her tea jar into his outstretched hand and he drank long and deep. He thanked her and she nodded, a line of concern between her brows.

“It doesn’t appear you enjoyed that very much.” Arms crossed, April wore a smug expression.

Without warning, Sophie leaned close and, snagging the fork from his hand, scooped up a piece for herself. He watched her chew once, her eyes growing big, lashes blinking furiously as she choked. Behind him, his ma made a commiserating sound.

“I don’t understand.” Sophie shook her head in consternation, her thick, shimmering braid sliding over her shoulder. “I followed Ma’s recipe very carefully. I did exactly what it said—”

When she clapped her hand over her mouth, he prompted, “What?”

“There was a smudge.” She spoke without removing her hand, muffling her words. “A water stain, actually, right where she’d written the amount of sugar. So I guessed.”

April’s lip curled. “Don’t you know baking is a science? You can’t guess at it or else you’ll have a disaster on your hands.” Whirling around in a swish of skirts, she marched in the direction of the dessert table, waving her hands to get the attention of those within hearing distance. “Do not eat Sophie Tanner’s rhubarb pie, folks! Not if you want to avoid a terrible stomachache.” Scanning the table, she located the pie and deposited it into the nearest waste bin. People stopped and stared. When Nathan caught the triumphant smirk she shot over her shoulder in their direction, his blood burned white-hot.

There was movement beside him, the air stirring and with it the familiar scent of Sophie—dandelions and sunshine and innocence. He pulled back from his anger long enough to see her hurrying away.

“I’ll go talk to her.” Kate started to get up.

“No, I’ll do it.” He waved her off before getting to his feet. “But first, I’m going to have a word with Miss Littleton.”

“Nathan, wait.” Josh pushed up from the tree and laid a hand on his shoulder. “What’s it going to look like if you go marching over there and yell at her? Look around, brother. Everyone’s watching. I think it would be best if you focus on Sophie right now.”

“She didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that,” he grumbled.

“No, she didn’t,” Josh agreed, questions swirling in his blue eyes as he studied him. “It’s not like you to lose it. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

At least, nothing he could confess. Josh was right. Of the three brothers, he was the calm, controlled one. The quiet one. Some would even say shy.

But for weeks now he’d been wrestling with confusing reactions to a girl he’d always viewed as a pal, an unexpected and unwelcome awareness of her that frustrated him to no end. And his ability to contain that frustration was becoming less and less sure.