Page 42 of Magnolia Summer

“Are you sure you don’t need me?”

“Of course not, son. You just have a good time.”

“I’ll help you clear out some of your pies and things.” Then he turned to Celia. “Please don’t run off. I’ll be right back.”

Her heart fluttered and she stared at his retreating back, so broad . . . Why was she thinking about such things? She was demoralized to find out she was so weak and worldly about men. She’d never been so before!

Now she remembered what she was supposed to think about—what this crazy attraction was leading her to. Was she falling so in love with Truett that she would forget about her dream and stay here in Bethel Springs? She shuddered, a sick feeling twisting her stomach. After she’d worked so hard, prayed so hard, wanted it so badly, could she give up on her dream of opening her own shop? Could she forget that her family was depending on her now to provide for them?

She wouldn’t, couldn’t forget that. But Truett was from Bethel Springs, had come back here after finishing medical school. People like that were very attached to their hometown. He would never leave. Besides, his mother needed him, with his father away most of the time, to help her with Griff.

It was clear. She had to stay away from Truett Beverly. If she didn’t, things would only get worse. He was already ruining her peace of mind, making her act like the silly, giggly girls she always scorned. She had to put a stop to it. She’d resolve to do it now, while he wasn’t standing right beside her, because she seemed to lose her mind when he was near.

But his face. The timbre of his voice and the soft warmth of his eyes. How it made her feel when he recited the poem by Lord Byron . . . His voice sent tingles down her spine.

But I don’t even like poetry!

Studying poetry in school always seemed a waste of time. Now, the first man who quoted a bit of Byron had her swooning like a ninny. Was she going to allow herself to become emotional over a country doctor who still lived with his mother?

She set her jaw, and just in time, too, as Truett had finished loading his mother’s wagon and was striding her way.

Chapter 12

Truett smiled as his family piled into the wagon. Now he was free to return to Celia.

On his way, he passed Sheriff Suggs and Curtis with their heads together. They looked up to level a glare at him. Had they figured out his secret?

Not even the prospect of future trouble with the sheriff and his son could dampen Truett’s spirits, not after the way Celia had been responding to him, smiling, flirting, dancing with him, letting him hold her hand. But the look in her eye was the best of all. He could almost believe she was as enamored of him as he was of her.

His heart tripped over itself.

He’d been unable to tear his eyes off her. Holding her and dancing with her had been better than he imagined. How he had wished they were alone so he could kiss her. She’d looked so inviting, sweeter than he’d ever seen her, and with such an expression of longing on her face. Perhaps tonight, when he took her home . . .

But when he met her eyes, the look on her face sent a sense of foreboding through him.

She sure didn’t look like she would kiss him now. She looked like she’d just bit into a green persimmon.

Was it something he said? His first impulse was to say something teasing, but that hadn’t gone over well in the past.

They stood facing each other. “Is something wrong?”

“Why do you ask?” The words jumped from her like the crack of a whip. She folded her arms over her chest.

Because you look like you just snuggled up to a cocklebur.“No reason.”

Coolly raising her eyebrows, she said, “I believe my family and I are almost ready to go home. I’m going to talk to Ruby, then I’ll be ready.”

“All right.” But she was already moving away, giving him the cold shoulder.

His head was spinning. One moment she was hanging on his every word, warm as an August afternoon. The next moment she was as cold as a January snow storm.

Celia walked toward Ruby, but before she could reach her, Grady Skidmore approached the other girl, briefly spoke, and then led her to the dance floor.

Celia stood still. He couldn’t see her face, but her back looked rigid. Then she walked over to the edge of the dance floor. She appeared to make eye contact with Worley Till. The man’s face registered shock. He straightened his shoulders and crossed over to Celia, obviously asking her to dance. She let him lead her onto the floor for the rest of the waltz that had just started.

A hard knot formed in Truett’s throat. Had he misunderstood? Had she never been as interested in him as she’d seemed? He watched her face now as she danced with Worley.

Worley was tall and lanky and not exactly the most graceful dancer, but he managed to keep from stepping on her feet. Celia’s smile seemed tight, and she seemed to be holding herself as far away from him as she could, much different from the close and friendly way she had danced with Truett. He couldn’t have imagined it.