A Secret Fire by Deborah McBride Hathaway

Author:Deborah McBride Hathaway [McBride Hathaway, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Draft Horse Publishing
Published: 2012-05-01T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“I won’t be gone for long,” James said as he stuffed his small bag full of clothing. “Probably back ’fore next week.”

Thatcher nodded, mindlessly chewing the bread he was having for breakfast. “Mmm hmmm.”

“I’ll tell Lucy ya said ‘hi’,” James continued.

“Alright.”

“And while I’m gone just make sure ya don’t burn my house down.”

“Sure will.”

James stopped packing and looked at his brother, but Thatcher didn’t notice. “And then go on over and profess your love to that Emma Marchant,” he said, his eyebrows raised.

“Okay,” was all Thatcher said as he shoved another piece of bread into his mouth.

“And then ya can quit beatin’ the devil ’round the stump and get hitched already.”

“Yep,” Thatcher said, still chewing. “Hold on, what’d ya just say?”

James chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothin’.”

Thatcher looked down at his plate, surprised to see it empty already. He stood and walked over to the counter where the loaf of bread was sitting. “Okay,” he replied, thoughts taking precedence once again.

“Somethin’ on your mind, brother?” James said, watching him once more, amused.

Thatcher sighed. “No, not much.” Well that’s a downright lie, he thought. Either way, he figured James didn’t need to know what was on his mind, for he wouldn’t let it go if he did.

“If ya say so,” James said, still suspicious.

The brothers had been together for nearly twenty-four years, so Thatcher knew James suspected him of something. Silence remained in the small front room of the house as James stood unmoving.

“If you’re waitin’ for me to open my mouth and spill the beans, you’ll miss the coach,” he said, unnerved.

Truth be told, if James stood there much longer, Thatcher wasn’t sure he could keep it from him.

“Alright, but we’re missin’ out on some good brother bondin’ time,” James said, raising his brows and batting his eyelashes.

Thatcher tried to hide his amusement. “Ya keep doin’ that and you’ll make me sick.”

James only laughed and walked to the door.

“Tell Lucy I said ‘hi’, will ya?” Thatcher asked, buttering another slice of bread.

Thatcher couldn’t figure out why James laughed as he walked out the door, saying goodbye with a nod of his head.

Instantly, Thatcher forgot about all else, and his thoughts returned to Emma Marchant, just as they had been doing all day long. He couldn’t get that girl out of his head! No matter how hard he tried, no matter what else he thought of, no matter how busy he stayed, that little blue-eyed, dark-haired angel was staring right at him.

Not that he minded it. In fact, it made his work go by much faster when he had something to occupy his mind with. And boy did it occupy his mind! Not a minute went by when he didn’t imagine those tantalizing pink lips of hers or the dimples in her cheeks.

His brow furrowed as he stuffed a wad of bread in his mouth again. Yes, she had captured his attention alright. And it scared him to death.

It had been three days since he had kissed her. Three long days. And each day his fear became greater.

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