Family Stories. Tessa McDermid
the end of the fork down on the table with a loud clang.
“Now, Father.” Marian lightly touched his hand, her head bent toward his graying one. “You mustn’t say such things. You’re not that old and life definitely hasn’t passed you by. You’ll give Mr. Robertson an entirely wrong picture of you.”
He patted her hand. “You’re kind, Marian, always have been. But you’re like this young man. Mustn’t wait too long or you’ll find yourself sitting by the roadside wondering when you got left behind.”
Frank could see that her father was in the throes of another sermon. Without conscious thought, only knowing that he had to divert the older man, he blurted, “From everything you’ve said and what I’ve seen so far, Winston seems like a good place for a man to settle down. What else can you tell me about the town?”
Marian sent him a startled look, Mrs. Cooper a grateful one. How many times did the reverend spoil a pleasant meal with his moribund conversation? Frank had little time to think about it before Reverend Cooper chuckled. “You decide to stay here, young man, and you’ll have all the mothers of single daughters after you. We don’t have many bachelors around. They’ll see you as an answer to prayer.”
Frank laughed, and the reverend began a story about a young man who came to town one day last summer, expressing a desire to settle in Winston. Once the matchmaking mamas and single women discovered his presence, his life ceased to be his own.
“And then he just up and disappeared, ” the reverend said, sipping at the cup of coffee his wife had poured for him. “We never heard what happened to him, did we, Mother?”
Mrs. Cooper stood up and stacked the dishes. “I suppose he went searching for another quiet town.” She added the empty potato dish to her load. “Marian, will you help, please?”
Marian picked up her own dishes, then leaned over Frank’s shoulder for his empty plate. The soft curve of her breast brushed against him and his insides coiled with desire. She scooped up several more dishes before following her mother into the kitchen.
He wiped his hands on his pants and raised his head to find Reverend Cooper watching him closely. He pressed his lips together and hoped his feelings weren’t reflected in his eyes.
“Mr. Bates, perhaps.”
Frank blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, what?” Did the entire family jump from topic to topic without warning?
“Adam Bates, over at the feed store. He was saying the other day that he needed another hand. His son married a girl he met on the east coast and they’re moving back there to be with her family. Can’t say I blame them. It’s hard on a young woman to be away from her family. But it leaves Adam in a bind.”
Reverend Cooper nodded several times. “Yes, Adam Bates. You stay the night and I’ll take you over to see him first thing in the morning.”
Marian paused in the doorway, a flicker of alarm in her eyes. “Who’s going where, Father?”
“I was saying that Adam Bates needs another hand. Young Frank, here, might be just the man.” He dug into the piece of pie she set before him with the same intensity he’d given to his sermon. “I invited Frank to stay the night, Mother.”
The thought of sleeping in the same house with Marian only a few feet away was almost more than he could take. The apple pie tasted like sawdust and he couldn’t look at any of them as he mechanically chewed and swallowed the flaky pastry, his eyes on his plate.
After dinner, he accompanied Reverend Cooper to the parlor while the women finished clearing the table. The older man withdrew behind his Bible. Frank sat on the edge of the sofa, his fingers silently drumming on the armrest. Did he want a permanent job working in a feed store? Wouldn’t have to be forever, he told himself. There was nothing to tie him to this town.
When the women came into the room, Mrs. Cooper brought out some sewing and settled in a corner. Marian wandered over to the narrow window. She pulled back the heavy drapes.
“Mother is famous for her garden, ” Marian said.
Her father lowered his Bible. “Mother does work wonders with her flowers. Marian, take Frank for a turn around the garden.”
They walked out of the parlor and down the back hall. Once outside, he took a deep breath.
“They’re not that bad, ” Marian said.
“I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles all through dinner, ” he confessed.
“You were nervous?”
“With good reason. Your father just kept me on my toes. He’s a very sharp man, Marian. I didn’t know what he was going to ask me next.”
She led the way into the little garden area. They were behind the house, away from the parlor windows.
She stopped near a rose bush, idly touching one of the pink petals, her back to him. “Did you mean that about staying, Frank? Are you really going to interview for a job?”
She had left her hat in the house. The soft breeze ruffled her loose curls. Her skin seemed to reflect the bright colors of the flowers, and his breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful.
He had to get away so he could think clearly. He stumbled onto the path and started walking in the opposite direction. When she called out his name in a dismayed voice, he didn’t stop, breaking into a run as he left the path and entered an unplowed field. He finally slowed near a clump of trees, leaning his head against the nearest one, gulping in the fresh air.
Still trying to catch his breath, he heard her footsteps behind him. “Frank, what’s the matter with you?” she asked in a breathless voice.
He bit his lip, unable to face her; he didn’t move until he felt a timid touch on his arm.
“Frank, please, what’s the matter?”
He turned then and saw his confusion mirrored in her eyes. With a strangled sob, he put his arms around her, pulling her close. Her arms slowly crept around his neck. When she lifted her face, he kissed her.
She tasted of cinnamon apples and sunshine. His eyes closed and he probed her lips with his tongue, wanting to taste more of her.
Her hands pushed at his chest. “Please, Frank…”
Fear sounded in her voice. Cursing himself for forgetting that she was an innocent, he raised his head. “Marian, ” he said thickly.
She traced the side of his cheek with her fingertips. “Why did you kiss me like that?”
He almost chuckled at the childlike wonder in her question. He rested his forehead against her silken curls. “Because you drive me mad.”
“I do?”
A hint of womanly pride edged into her voice. He bent down, gently nipping her nose with his lips. “Yes. Does that please you?”
She giggled. “I’ve never driven a man mad before.”
He pulled away from her until he could gaze into her eyes. “Marian Cooper, you probably drive every man in this town wild.”
Her lashes fell but not before he saw the swift gleam of satisfaction in them. “How could I?” she asked softly. “I’m the minister’s daughter.”
He felt an urge to swat her behind. Instead, he pressed a hard kiss on her lips. “That’s exactly why, you little minx. It’s enough to drive any normal man crazy.”
“I’ve never wanted to drive a man crazy before.”
The implication in her quiet words acted like a tonic on him. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her off the ground. This time her lips answered his silent pleas and parted under his kisses, letting him taste the fullness of her mouth, her tongue meeting his again and again.
His breath ragged, he slowly lowered her to the ground and knelt