Romancing Adrienne Read online

  She seemed startled that he talked to her. “Oh. I came from out west. It’s a place that’s far away.”

  Why was she being so vague? Trevor shook his head. Why did he care?

  “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Bronson said as he took her hand and kissed it.

  Trevor didn’t hide his amusement at the look of shock and unease on her face.

  “Now son, she’s engaged to Mr. Lewis over there,” his father warned.

  The boy frowned. “Oh. I’m sorry.” He released her hand.

  “We’re not engaged,” Trevor said. “She’s free to marry whoever she wants. She prefers redheads.”

  She gasped. She must have understood that he was giving Bronson free reign to kiss her hand again.

  It serves her right for mocking my writing. Trevor was very satisfied to watch Bronson drool over her as he welcomed her to the town. She struggled to be polite but he recognized the repulsion she felt in his presence. He made it a point to notice small details in people since it helped him become a better writer because he incorporated the same subtle actions and words into his work.

  “Now, just because you two are having a lover’s quarrel, it doesn’t mean you have to call off the wedding,” Mrs. Gallows inserted. “I’m sure that you can work things out. Marriage is like a rose. It has its beautiful scent and is pretty but it also has thorns.”

  Trevor thought that was a good analogy. I’ll have to incorporate that into one of my future writings.

  “At least, their relationship doesn’t seem serious,” Bronson argued. “The ring isn’t on her finger yet.”

  “You got that right. Why, Adrienne and I can hardly stand to look at one another. I don’t mind letting another man court her. Shoot, I’ll just make it all official right here and now. I call off the engagement. She’s free to be with anyone she wants.”

  “As if I would ever consider marrying you,” she spat.

  Trevor blinked. She’s talking again.

  Bronson was grinning like a schoolboy.

  Trevor chuckled to himself. It was funny to watch Bronson and Adrienne, but Trevor was eager to start working so he could make money and head out of town. “I’m ready to go out to the Howard farm,” he told Mr. Gallows.

  Mr. and Mrs. Gallows looked shocked but nodded.

  “If you’ll follow me,” Mr. Gallows finally replied. “Do you ride a horse?”

  “I sure do. I’ve been riding them since I was two.”

  “We’ll have to get a welcoming party to introduce you two to the folk around here,” Mrs. Gallows said. “I’ll make arrangements for tomorrow. It looks like you two will be here for at least a month.”

  “Or maybe longer.” Bronson smiled at Adrienne who grimaced.

  Trevor laughed as he followed Mr. Gallows out of the inn.

  “You should be careful,” the man kindly warned him. “There are plenty of young men in this town who are eager for a young lady as beautiful as Adrienne.”

  What did he care? If some other man wanted to be miserable by confining himself to a marriage to a woman like that, then let him.

  Trevor walked to the horse stable with Mr. Gallows who told him that he could have some of Tom Peters’ old clothes. “That boy just turned sixteen. He shot up like a weed overnight and outgrew his clothes. You look like you could fit his old things. We’ll send those clothes to your room by morning so you can change. Thankfully, what you’re wearing now will be adequate for farming.”

  Trevor hadn’t considered that he was smaller than the average man. He was slender and only 5'6" which made him shorter than his brother who was six feet tall. Most men around him were a little taller than him, and he hadn’t minded it before, but realizing he fit into clothes of a sixteen year old boy suddenly bothered him. After all, he was twenty.

  Mr. Gallows led him into the stable and showed him the horse he would ride.

  Trevor smiled at the mare and petted her. “We’re going to make a good team for the next month. I can tell you’re a fine animal by the way you welcome someone new.”

  “This is the easiest horse to ride.”

  “I love horses. I used to work with horses back home.”

  “How did you find time to write?”

  “When someone loves writing as much as I do, they make time. I sacrificed a lot of sleep to produce some of my best work.”

  “You certainly are dedicated to your chosen profession. It’s a pity you lost your last manuscript.”

  The reminder made him more upset with Adrienne than he already was. It was her fault and she didn’t even apologize. She acted like it was no big deal. How could a woman watch a man’s heart break and not care? She might be nice to look at but she’s got a cold heart.

  “Try not to let it get to you too much,” the old man said. “I know it’s hard to lose something you worked hard on but perhaps God has something better in mind for you.”

  Trevor knew he was trying to make him feel better but it wasn’t easy to let go of the pain.

  Mr. Gallows seemed to understand his thoughts, for he patted him on the shoulder. “I realize it can’t be replaced.”

  That did make him feel better. “I suppose I shouldn’t mope when I can’t do anything about it.” He sighed. “I will just have to start over and make the best of it.”

  “You have a good attitude. I will pick up some paper and pencils and leave them in your room with your new clothes.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “If there’s anything you need, let me know. I’ll do my best to help you.”

  Trevor thanked him again and got the horse ready for the ride out to the Howard farm with Mr. Gallows.

  Chapter Four

  Mr. Howard, his employer, was a down-to-earth honest and caring man. His wife was a skinny tall woman who towered over him. Her husband was also tall, so their three sons and two daughters were taller than average as well. His sons were twenty-one, thirteen and seven. His two daughters were seventeen and nineteen and seemed especially delighted to welcome him to the farm. They were a little taller than him and had black straight hair and light blue eyes. They were just as skinny as their mother. They didn’t have any obvious feminine curves and hardly had breasts. What a contrast to Adrienne who has lots of curves and a full bosom. He shook his head in disgust. Why am I thinking such things? Because I’m a writer. That’s what I do. I notice details. He comforted himself with that reasoning.

  The work was monotonous but gave him plenty of time to think of his play. The romantic comedy seemed to be going well, and it was flowing along nicely before it got destroyed. But he had to admit that it was missing something. The characters didn’t seem as lively as they should have been. Usually when he wrote something, the characters came alive and took over the storyline in their words and actions. This wasn’t the case this time. They were stagnant and predictable. The plot and action were the strengths of the play though, which was why he kept writing it.

  By lunch hour, he was famished so he eagerly followed the men into the house, cleaned up and sat at the large kitchen table where fresh bread, chili and salad waited for them. He looked around at the siblings and a wave of homesickness washed over him. He didn’t like thinking of his empty room back at the inn. He didn’t like being alone for a long period of time. At home, he always had the ability to find someone to mess with or talk to when he was done being alone working on his writing. He sat at the table and joined in the conversation, glad for the companionship of the brothers who had already made him feel like he was one of them. The sisters, however, were too interested in him.

  “You do fine work on the farm,” Mr. Howard told him as they started eating their lunch.

  “Thank you, sir,” he replied. “I grew up on the farm so it helps to have the experience.”

  “It’s good to have an extra man around to help out,” Trudy, the seventeen year old sister, said. “Planting and taking care of the chickens and sheep can be time consuming.”

  “Onc
e the boys get older, it will be easier since they’ll be able to take on more responsibilities,” Mrs. Howard added.

  “Mr. Gallows said he and his wife will be hosting a dance and a dinner party tomorrow night to welcome you and the young woman you came with,” Mr. Howard said. “We’re looking forward to going. We haven’t had a good social event for a couple of months. We enjoy getting together with the other people in this community whenever we can.”

  “I’m sure it will be a fun evening,” Trevor replied. He was looking forward to it since it would give him an excuse to be surrounded by people.

  “You came with someone?” Bonnie, the nineteen year old sister, frowned.

  “Yes. Her name is Adrienne Dayton,” their father answered for Trevor who had his mouth full of food.

  “So you’re not married?” Bonnie and Trudy perked up at this announcement.

  Trevor slowly swallowed his food. He didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

  “Now, let’s not make Trevor feel uncomfortable,” their mother quickly inserted. “He just got here last night. He needs time to adjust to being here.”

  “I’ll be going to New York as soon as I can afford a train ticket,” he announced. That should get Trudy and Bonnie off my back.

  Clark, the twenty-one year old son, glanced up from his bowl. “New York? What are you going there for?”

  “I’m going to be a playwright at a theater company.”

  “How exciting!” Bonnie exclaimed.

  “A writer!” Trudy added.

  Uh oh. Trevor cleared his throat nervously.

  “I wouldn’t mind going to New York,” Trudy said.

  “Me neither,” Bonnie agreed.

  “That was a great meal,” Trevor quickly stated as he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin. “I admit that I’m anxious to get back to work. I enjoy being outside on a day as nice as this.” The truth was, he would rather be inside writing but there was no way he would tell them that since they might offer him a paper and a pencil to keep him nearby.

  “We do have a lot of work to do,” their father agreed.

  Trevor breathed a sigh of relief as he joined the men back out into the fields. It suddenly occurred to him that throwing Adrienne at Bronson was unusually cruel, even if he couldn’t stand her.

  ***

  Adrienne was surprised that cooking wasn’t as daunting a task as she originally feared. Mrs. Harper was helping her learn, and she found the thirty year old woman to be a patient teacher with a kind heart. There are a lot of good people in this town. If she had to pick anywhere to get stranded, she would pick this place. She especially liked the fact that the town was isolated from the rest of the world. It made her feel safe from her father who was, no doubt, still searching for her. Why would her father place such importance on her marrying Mr. Parker because he was rich? How did her father find out she was on her way to New York? He must have ridden his horse hard to catch up with me on the train. She was relieved she got off the train when she did.

  However, she did regret she brought that crude man named Trevor with her. He was sure stuck on himself. He thought he was important because he was a writer who already had a book published. She saw his face when he found out she didn’t know how to clean or cook. He thought she was a rich, snobby person who didn’t know how to do anything but entertain at parties. Just because she grew up surrounded by wealth and privilege, it didn’t mean she was useless. What she didn’t know, she could learn. He’s jealous because he didn’t have the same opportunity to be rich like I did. She found that many people lower than her on the economic ladder hated the fact that money came so easily to her. They wanted everyone to struggle with their finances. Well, they should all be happy now since I am officially poor.

  She cut up potatoes and carrots and added them to the pot roast that Mrs. Harper had taught her to make. She put the dish into the oven and turned her attention to the boiling pot of potatoes that needed to be mashed. With the recipe book in front of her, she was able to answer a lot of her questions on her own.

  She still couldn’t believe the nerve Trevor had to practically hand her over to Bronson. Not that she and Trevor knew each other but with the way he talked, one would assume they did know each other and that he insisted on giving her away to the first available bachelor who showed an interest in her. She left California to avoid marriage, not to find it. She had no desire to be with any man romantically. Men were only concerned with what they wanted from her. They didn’t care about who she was or what she wanted. She didn’t wish to confine herself to a fate where she was an object.

  Mr. Owen, the owner of the restaurant, came into the kitchen. He looked pleased. “The customers are happy with the food. Adrienne, are you sure you’ve never cooked before?”

  She shook her head. “No, sir. This is my first attempt at it.”

  The fat middle-aged man smiled at her. “You certainly have a talent for it.”

  “She picks up on it very fast,” Mrs. Harper agreed, smiling at her. “She’s a natural in the kitchen.”

  He nodded. “The single men will be flocking in here to taste her cooking and to get a good look at her. It’s not often that we get a single woman in this town who is pretty and cooks as well as she does. Adrienne, you’re going to do my business some good. I’m sorry for the situation that put you here, but I am glad to have you here anyway.”

  “I do like it here,” Adrienne confessed. “I was only heading to New York to work as a nanny, but I don’t have to go there.”

  “That’s even better. You’ll have your pick of any bachelor you want in this town. I suspect you’ll be married before the year is up.”

  She winced at the thought. “I don’t know, Mr. Owen. I left California to get out of marrying someone.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Harper asked. “What happened?”

  “My father arranged a marriage between me and a forty-eight year old bachelor who wanted to marry me so I could give him children.”

  “Oh. So you didn’t love him.”

  “No. Nor did he love me.”

  “Well, there are single men closer to your age who will be more than happy to love you,” Mr. Owen said. “You shouldn’t let a bad experience rob you of the joy of marriage. I love my wife and we’ve been married for twenty-five years now.”

  “And I love my husband of eleven years,” Mrs. Harper added. “There are some wonderful things about marriage, even if there are some difficulties with living with another person. It certainly is nice to come home to someone who cares about you.”

  “For now, I would rather focus on learning to cook and getting familiar with the town,” she replied, hoping to end the conversation.

  Mr. Owens grinned. “You’ll have a good chance to do that tomorrow night when Mr. and Mrs. Gallows give you and that young man you came with a welcoming party.”

  “Speaking of which, are you involved with that young man?” Mrs. Harper asked.

  “No, I’m not,” she quickly responded. Nor do I care to be.

  “I heard he’s a writer. Mr. Gallows is going to pick up some copies of his book to hand out at the dance tomorrow.”

  Adrienne hid her disgust. Why was everyone thrilled that Trevor wrote a book? He wasn’t that impressive. She met authors who were full of themselves. They figured they knew everything there was to know on any subject they wrote about. And they were too sentimental about their work. She had never seen a grown man agonize over a story. He could always write another one but seemed to find that option too distressing. He said he couldn’t replace his work, as if everything he wrote was as important as a person. What a baby. It might be a good experience for him to lose his work for once. Maybe it will give him proper perspective on what really matters.

  She finished mashing the potatoes and handed the bowl to Mrs. Harper who put the food on the plates resting on the counter. To her surprise, the older woman told her to take the plates of steak, mashed potatoes and corn to table number five. “I’ll br
ing the coffee,” she added.

  She nodded and did as instructed. Leaving the kitchen with the three plates, she frowned when she realized that table number five was filled with three single young men. No doubt, I am being fixed up already and I just got here last night. She sighed and took the plates to the men who smiled at her. She forced herself to smile in return and set the plates down.

  “Are you going to be at the pot luck and dance tomorrow night?” the one with curly blond hair and a creepy mustache asked her.

  “Yes,” she quietly replied.

  “I hope you save me a dance,” the husky brunette with a beard told her.

  “It seems that a lot of people will be coming,” she said, intentionally ignoring his offer. Hopefully, there will be married people.

  “The whole town will be there,” the third man, who was already balding despite his young age, reported. “There will be lots of children there too. Do you like children?”

  “They’re fine,” she reluctantly stated. He was obviously after a lineage just as Mr. Parker had been.

  The brunette took a bite of her food and grinned at her. “You’re a mighty fine cook, Miss Dayton. A man could get used to coming home to a meal this good.”

  And he’s after a hot meal.

  “Good looking and a great cook. That’s an unbeatable combination,” the blond added.

  And he wants a trophy wife. She hadn’t realized how easy it was to read men’s intentions before.

  “I must get back to work,” she finally replied and left the table. She was glad that the kitchen was far away from the customers. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone but Mrs. Harper and Mr. Owen.

  ***

  That evening at dinner, Adrienne offered to help Mrs. Gallows cook.

  “You must be tired. You should rest,” the woman told her.

  “No. Surprisingly, I have a lot of energy,” she insisted. “I suppose it’s all the days I spent sitting on a train. Besides, I discovered that I actually enjoy cooking.”

  “I did hear many positive comments from people in town today. Your first day was a great success.”