Winning the Spinster's Heart (Clear Creek Brides #1) - Kit Morgan Page 0,20

it’s not as if it’s torture.”

He laughed and continued outlining “REFRESHMENTS” on the sheet. “You are that good at it, but never mind. We’ll get these done, hang them up to dry, then figure out where we’ll put them. I brought the wagon today and a ladder. I’m glad we didn’t take these to town yesterday, or we would have had to borrow one.”

“You’ll have to bring me home,” she pointed out, as if it was an inconvenience neither of them wanted to discuss.

“I was planning on that. Don’t sound so worried – it’s not like I’d make you walk.”

Her eyes widened. “Wouldn’t you?”

Liam burst out laughing. “You were worried?”

She smacked him on the arm. “Liam White, stop teasing!”

He laughed harder and continued to outline letters.

She watched him a while longer before excusing herself and returned to the house. She’d bring him some lemonade and cookies like yesterday – it was the polite thing to do. Besides, she needed to get away from him for a moment. For some reason she couldn’t stop looking at him. This was Liam, after all – she’d known him all her life. What was different today?

When she returned with a tray, Liam was already painting. “Lemonade!” he said with a smile. “And more of those wonderful sugar cookies. Did you make them?”

“No, Mother made these. Sadie made the ones yesterday.”

“I’m sure you bake.” He bit into one.

“Of course. Everybody bakes.”

“Well, I don’t.” He took another bite, made a few more brushstrokes on the letter he was painting and sipped his lemonade. “As warm as it is today, these should dry pretty quickly.”

“How long?” She hadn’t thought about having to entertain him while they waited for banners to dry. What would they talk about?

“Maybe a half-hour. Do you have a hammer and nails? And some rope – we’ll need rope.”

“Father was going to find some, but he rode out with Logan our foreman right after lunch. I’m sure he put it somewhere we can find it. Maybe on the back porch.”

Liam nodded and continued to paint. “When I’m done with this, you can paint your flowers and things, and I’ll start on the next one.”

She nodded and went to the crate of supplies, picked out the colors she wanted and brought them to one end of the banner. “You stay within the lines better than I do.”

He chuckled. “Only because I’m going slowly.”

“You’re patient,” she observed.

“I guess. Ma says I have the patience of Job, but sometimes I wonder.”

“What makes you think you don’t?”

He added a few more strokes to the banner. “Growing up I had little tolerance for my siblings. Caleb used to drive me plumb loco sometimes. And I wasn’t easy to be around – I got into everything.”

“You were a curious child?” she asked with a giggle.

“Inquisitive. I always wanted to know how things worked. Unfortunately for me, a lot of those things belonged to Pa – and weren’t so easily reassembled.”

“I understand. Parthena was always into my things growing up. But then, I would get into Honoria’s.”

“And my sister was often in mine,” he said.

“I’m sure when we have children, they’ll be the same … oh! I didn’t mean to imply you and me having children … it was a figure of speech …”

He smiled. “I knew what you meant.” He sighed and got back to work.

Was that a frustrated sigh? She wondered if she’d offended him, or repulsed him. She was probably the last person in Clear Creek he’d want to be saddled with as a wife. She pretended to dig through the crate, even as she figured he was the last person she’d want as a husband anyway. He barely checked off half her list.

They finished two banners, took them to the clothesline behind the house and hung them up to dry. She found the lengths of rope Father gathered and put them in the back of Liam’s wagon, then returned to the barn. Liam removed a small, well-worn notebook and a pencil from his back pocket. “Let’s figure out where we’ll hang them up.”

“Do you always carry a notebook and pencil with you?”

“You never know when you’ll need one.”

“For what?”

“For anything.”

Adele watched him scribble a few things down, then reach for a cookie, his eyes intent. Should she ask what he’d written? Would he tell her? He’d gone suddenly quiet – maybe he was done conversing with her for the day. Well, fine – the sooner she got away from the man the better. Maybe then her belly

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