The Scholar (Emerson Pass Historicals 3) - Page 40

I think I already was. Theo Barnes. He’d come home and with his gentle way had opened me up like a book.

***

In Theo’s car, we bounced along the dirt road until we reached the community park. I’d fastened my hat with double pins to make sure it survived the trip. Lizzie had sent along a basket filled with food.

“Ah, it’s pretty here tonight,” I said. The river spot had become a popular place for young people to picnic and swim. Flynn and Phillip and a few of their friends had cleared shrubs and trees to create a section of the riverbank for a beach. Additionally, they’d leveled the dirt and planted grass and built picnic tables.

Theo turned off the engine and ran around to help me out of the car. I’d worn a casual pink poplin dress with a simple collar and dropped waist. I’d lingered at the mirror earlier staring at my reflection to assess my appearance. What I saw didn’t please me. My face was long and thin. Almond-shaped eyes were a faded blue rather than vibrant like the sky or a lake. I hadn’t ever thought much about whether I was pretty or not. Yet tonight, it suddenly seemed important. I wanted Theo to think I was pretty. This was an entirely new feeling. I preferred not caring what anyone thought about my appearance, especially a man.

Theo grabbed the basket out of the back of the car. “Shall we sit on the grass? Or sit at one of the tables?”

“Grass seems more like a picnic.” I’d rather have sat a table, but looking around, I saw that it was only families who were using them, sitting side by side on the attached benches. Couples reclined on blankets. Romantic.

We strolled across the lawn. I spotted Nora and Viktor sitting together at the far end of the lawn. She looked fetching in a cream dress. A different girl than the one I’d seen the other day at the Johnsons’ store.

After we settled on the blanket near a fir, Theo took a bottle of ice-cold water from the wicker basket and poured us each a glass. The evening temperature hadn’t changed much from the heat of the afternoon.

A drop of perspiration ran down my back. I drank greedily from my glass. The water cooled the back of my throat. Theo retrieved more items from the basket.

“Is Viktor calling on Nora Cassidy?” I asked.

Theo shook his head. “No, she has her heart set on Isak. I suspect she’s asking him for advice.”

“Isak? Isn’t he old for her?”

“She’s twenty now,” Theo said. “There’s only a five-year difference between them.”

I smiled as an image of little Nora Cassidy as I’d first known her came to me. “You’re right. I still think of us as the ages when we all first met. Nora was a little girl back then.”

Theo reached into the basket and brought out a chunk of bread and another of cheese. Just then, Isak appeared, peering down at us and blocking the sun with his large frame. “Good evening,” Isak said before nodding at me. “Hello, Louisa.”

Theo leapt to his feet, and the men shook hands. “Evening. I didn’t know you’d be out tonight.”

“I took your advice and came to see about a certain girl,” Isak said, grinning. “My brother agreed to come along since I’m not known for my conversation skills.”

I must have looked confused because Theo said, “I might have mentioned something to Isak about a certain young lady’s feelings.”

“I’m glad you did,” Isak said. “I had no idea.”

Theo chuckled. “A soldier always looks out for his brother-in-arms.”

“Anyway, I should be off before my better-looking brother steals her affection,” Isak said.

We waved him off and wished him luck. I watched his tall, wide-shouldered form cross the grass to where Nora and Viktor waited. Nora beamed at him as he plopped down beside them. Then, a young woman and man I didn’t know arrived. Viktor got to his feet and kissed the lady’s hand before they both sat on the blanket, followed by the man.

“Who are those people?” I asked Theo.

“They’re new to town. Neil Hartman. The sister’s called Emma.”

Emma was a dark-haired beauty, tall and angular with alabaster skin. “She’s striking,” I said.

“I suppose she is.” Theo cut a chunk of cheese and a piece of bread and put them on a plate for me.

I’d missed lunch. I hadn’t wanted to bother Lizzie by asking for something in the midafternoon and had settled for a few crab apples I’d found on a tree. My stomach growled at the sight of the crusty bread and creamy cheese.

In finishing school, they’d focused a lot on table manners. Mine, although somewhat honed under Mother’s watchful gaze, had been lacking. It was everything I could do during meals not to shove the food in as quickly as I could. This was a leftover habit from years of hunger. The other girls I’d been with at school ate like birds in dainty pecks and never finished what was on their plate. I never left a crumb. However, I had learned to eat slower and which utensil to use for what course. Still, my first impulse was to gather a plate close to my chest, shielding it with my arm so that no one could take my food.

One of the teachers at the school had embarrassed me in front of my classmates during our first lunch in the dining hall. We ate from communal dishes, passing them from one to the other after taking a portion for ourselves. My mouth had watered at the sight of the bread and tomato salad soaked in oil and vinegar. I’d plopped a large spoonful on my plate. “Save some for the rest of us,” Miss Garner had said.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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