in surprise. “Do what? Tell Libby to eat? Why shouldn’t she—” Then his jaw dropped. He looked from Pete to Libby to Pete again. He burst out laughing.
Pete whacked Bennett’s shoulder. A few green beans tumbled over the edge of his well-filled plate. “Stop it.”
Bennett took a firmer hold on his plate and stepped away from Pete. “Me stop it?” Humor bubbled under his words. “How about you and Lib, going all cow-eyed over each other. If anybody ought to stop something . . .” His voice trailed off, but the implication hit its mark.
Pete blew out a mighty breath. “I know. As Libby so eloquently pointed out, it’s ludicrous.” He swallowed, forcing down the bitter taste that filled his mouth. He tried to sound glib. “I think it’s just the wedding. Seeing Matt and Lorna together . . . It’s put ideas in her head.”
“Yeah.” Bennett munched a roll. “She is, after all, a girl. And girls have peculiar romantic notions. Always wanting some fella to fawn over them.” He raised one eyebrow. “So you gonna give her what she wants?”
“I can’t. You know why.”
“Uh-huh. ’Cause you’re planning to be a preacher.” Chewing thoughtfully, Bennett looked at Libby again. “And Libby doesn’t want to be a preacher’s wife. So you might wanna go over there and remind her of it. Before she lets her wild ideas get out of control.”
Pete nodded. Rarely did he follow Bennett’s advice. As much as he liked Bennett, his friend generally acted without much forethought. This time, however, Bennett made sense. It was only the romance of the moment that had brought out this attentive side of Libby. It was best if they both recognized that fact.
His stomach churned as he wove between other guests, creating a meandering path to the spot against the barn where Libby seemed to have taken root. Lord, give me strength. As much as it had hurt to hear her claim anything beyond friendship would be ludicrous, he knew it would be infinitely more painful to say the words himself.
He stopped a few feet in front of her. Her eyes had grown wider the closer he’d drawn, and she stared at him, unblinking, her lips parted slightly. The bodice of her rose-colored church dress visibly rose and fell with her rapid breaths. She reminded him of a scared rabbit. But was she frightened of him or of her own feelings?
He drew a fortifying breath. “Libby, I—” Before he could say anything more, she grabbed his hand and pulled him through the barn’s open doorway. Stumbling behind her, his focus turned to staying upright. She dragged him up the aisle to the spot where she had taken his elbow before leaving the ceremony. Finally she released his hand and whirled to face him.
The change from full sun to shadow forced him to squint to make out her features, but he glimpsed the same adoring warmth he’d seen earlier. He shook his head. “Libby, stop.”
She tipped her head, the innocent bewilderment in her eyes nearly breaking his heart.
“Don’t look at me that way.”
Stepping forward, she rested her palms on his chest. A soft smile lit her face, and he suspected she felt his pounding heartbeat beneath her hands. “But why?”
“Because.” He caught her wrists and pushed her hands down.
Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Petey?”
“Don’t you remember what you said in the dining hall? Ludicrous— that’s what you said. And you were right.” He forced the words past his closed, aching throat. His tone turned harsh. “You and I are friends, and you’ll ruin everything if you start—”
“If I start loving you?” She matched his tone in severity, but her chin quivered. “I’m afraid it might be too late for that.” She took several gulping breaths. Clasping her hands at her waist, she fixed him with a pensive look. “Petey, today when I looked at you . . . it’s as if I saw you for the first time. I saw not the boy who’s always been my friend and playmate, but someone new. Someone . . . completely desirable.” Her hands rose and she placed them flat against her heart. “Inside of me, something changed. A good change, Petey. And I—”
“You’re willing to give up your plans of travel? Of writing about world events?” He searched her face, praying she might say yes. But to his distress, she flinched. He sighed. “You see, Libby? It is ludicrous. I can’t travel the world with you—not with this . . .” He glared