Page 47 of Magnolia Summer

“No!”

She clapped her hand over her mouth. Did she want the whole family to hear her? Pointing her finger at his chest, she kept her eyes from straying north. She lowered her voice and hissed, “You stay away from me!”

“You’re not mad at me again, are you?” There was more amusement than worry in voice.

“Your behavior was not that of a gentleman, kissing me like that.”

“But you’re the one who kissed me.” A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Truett shrugged. “I was just standing here, minding my own business . . .”

Heat stung her face. Her mouth fell open but no sound came out. Finally, her voice returned with a squeak. “Me?”

Had she really been the one to initiate the kiss? She tried to remember exactly what had happened. She was standing in front of him, saying she had to go inside. When he didn’t move and let her pass, she lifted her face and looked into his eyes—and then they were kissing. To be honest, she wasn’t sure who had kissed whom, but it was sooooo lovely.

No, she mustn’t think like that! She must stick to the point here, and the point was that she . . . she had melted at the look on his face. She couldn’t resist lifting her lips to his.

No, no! The point was that she had to get him out of here, tell him his kiss meant nothing, that he wasn’t to ever let his lips come near hers again.

“Listen, it’s high time you left, Truett Beverly, so stand aside and let me pass.”

“You’re right. I should go.”

He sounded so contrite, she couldn’t help but look up at him. But the look on his face was so hopeful and sweet . . .

“Will you let me court you?”

“No!” The answer burst from a place of desperation deep inside her. She looked away and stomped past as he stepped aside. “You may not court me.” She hurried up the steps, whispering. “I’m . . . I’m not ready for that.”

She closed the wooden door and locked it with the key. Then she leaned back against the door. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, where she could still feel his lips against hers. Her heart fluttered at the memory.

“Oh, what have I done?”

* * *

Lizzie triedto pry some information out of her that night in bed. “Are you and Truett courting now?” she asked.

“No, we’re not courting. Go to sleep.”

“Why not, Celia? He likes you, I just know it.”

That’s a fair guess. He probably wouldn’t kiss a girl he didn’t like. “Go to sleep, Lizzie.”

“And you like him. I can tell.”

He could probably tell, too—right before I ordered him to never come near me again.

“You didn’t chase him away, did you, Celia?”

“Listen, I told you I’m not looking to marry Truett Beverly, or anybody else, so please leave me alone about him.”

“All right, all right, but you’re gonna spoil everything.”

No, she was trying to save them—and get them out of the country and back to town.She just had to wait for someone to respond to her ads in the newspapers, someone to make an offer on their farm, and they were leaving Bethel Springs forever—it and every last one of its populace.

But maybe Lizzie was right. She had spoiled everything. She’d told Truett she wanted nothing to do with him, but it wasn’t true. Part of her really wanted him to hold her and kiss her every day for the rest of her life.

Celia lay awake long after Lizzie’s rhythmic breathing told her she was asleep. She tried not to ruminate on what Truett must think of her. First she’d flirted with him and made loving eyes at him. Then she’d treated him coldly and rudely for no reason. Finally, she’d let him kiss her. And enjoyed it! She wondered if he could tell.

But of course he could tell. Her face burned as she remembered how she’d behaved—besotted and wanton! Never would she have thought herself capable of such behavior. But she’d enjoyed his company at the dance. The dancing, the poetry—he had completely befuddled her brain. And as soon as they were alone together, he’d taken advantage of it and kissed her.