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“Excellent. I’ll look forward to it.”
An aproned serving girl whisked their plates away. Ruth had left half of her meat. She normally had the appetite of a starving adolescent boy, but eating in front of a man—a man who was interested in courting her—unnerved her.
“Piece of pie or cake for either of you?” the girl asked.
“Ruth?” Doc looked at her expectantly.
“Goodness, no. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“Then I’ll pass as well,” Doc said.
“Not on my account. Have a dessert if you’d like.”
“I’m adequately sated,” he said, “though a cup of tea would be nice.”
“You, ma’am?” the girl asked.
“Uh…yes, of course. Tea would be lovely.”
The tea was strong and delicious. Darjeeling, Ben called it. From India. Much smoother than the tea Ma served at home. When they had finished, he escorted her out of the restaurant and back to the church where his team and black buggy waited.
Glory, Ruth had never ridden in a buggy before. Doc helped her up into the comfortable cushioned seats. It was a half hour ride to her pa’s farm. Though comfort wouldn’t be an issue, Ruth worried about finding another half hour’s worth of conversation topics.
Well, sake’s alive, he’d invited her out. Why not let him find a suitable subject to talk about? She let out a shaky breath.
Ben talked a little about his experience at university as they drove along the beaten road to Pa’s farm. The man had led an interesting life, and Ruth found herself listening with rapt attention, until he stopped talking and thick tension rose between them.
“Ruth.”
“Yes?”
“I suppose…” His words faded, and he moved the reins to one hand and laid the other on top of hers. “I suppose you understand why I asked to see you today. And why I’d like to go walking with you this week.”
“Well, of course, Doc…er, Ben. Ma spoke to me.”
Doc cleared his throat. Crimson rose along his neck to his cheeks. Ruth turned and looked straight ahead at the bounding prairie.
“You see, I’ve come to admire you a great deal, and I’d like for us to get to know each other, with the eventual goal being marriage.”
Ruth’s mouth dropped below her chin, and she turned to regard Doc’s profile. Marriage? After one outing he spoke of marriage? What did one say to such a proposal?
Before she could reply, Doc’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a gulp. “Well, I feel we are compatible intellectually. And physically.”
She jolted. “Physically? What on earth do you mean?”
“Well…we would…produce children of optimal size and intelligence.”
Size? Land sakes. Ruth’s dander prickled the back of her neck. She reined it in. “I’m very flattered, but—”
“I’m not asking for an answer today,” Doc said.
He squeezed her hand lightly. Funny, no sparks. Yet she sizzled at the slightest brush of Garth Mackenzie’s hand.
“I certainly wouldn’t presume to give you an answer today.”
Doc opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the thudding gallop of a horse’s hooves rambled up behind them.
Ruth stiffened against the cushioned back of the buggy seat. “Doc, what is it?” Her breath hitched as she imagined a masked outlaw. She doubted Doc was armed.
