Pioneer Ardor: The O’Rourke Family Saga, Book Seven by Ramona Flightner

Author:Ramona Flightner [Flightner, Ramona]
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 8

Three nights later Lucien coaxed Samantha into playing cribbage with him in the family kitchen. Everyone else was either with their spouse at home “canoodling,” as Seamus called it, or in the living room, listening to Da read. Although Lucien enjoyed hearing his father read about the Count of Monte Cristo’s exploits, Lucien would far rather spend time with his fiancée.

“Come, Sam,” he teased. “I know you remember how to play.” He frowned, as she barely glanced in his direction and kept all of her attention focused on the board. When he reached forward to move his pegs, intentionally rubbing his fingers against hers, she jumped, as though he’d startled her. Or scared her.

Frowning, he studied her. Rather than the blushing woman who had seemed so eager to marry him when she had accepted his proposal two weeks ago, this Sam was withdrawn and dejected. As though he were leading her to her demise. Was the prospect of marrying him that distasteful?

Lucien pushed aside that thought and focused on the game. However, his concern about Sam’s sudden mood shift caused him to miscount, and he was soon far behind. Whereas before, she would have teased him and wriggled in delight, she sat in sullen silence, as she tapped out her movements.

The kitchen, usually filled with their chatter, laughter, and teasing banter, was so silent that he could hear the wood crackling in the stove and his da reading in the living room. He almost wished he were there, rather than in the kitchen with his intended. Almost.

“Have I done something, Sam?” When she shook her head but didn’t meet his gaze, he rested his hand over hers, squeezing it. “Look at me. Please.”

He stiffened when she swallowed and firmed her shoulders, before raising her head enough to meet his gaze. He froze at the fear he saw in her gaze. “What happened?” He raised his hand to cup her cheek, stilling his instinctual movement when she jerked away from his touch. “Sam?”

She shrunk in front of him, her shoulders scrunching down, as she deflated. “I have to do something that terrifies me.”

He waited, the silence stretching between them. “Marrying me?” When she stared at him in shock, he rasped, “Is that what terrifies you, Sam? Marrying me?”

She shook her head but didn’t say anything more. “I … I …” She closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek.

“Do you want to cancel the wedding?” His hazel eyes shone with torment, as he stared at her.

“No!” she cried out, her hand latching on to his. “No, Lucien. Never.” Her gaze filled with pleading, and she clutched his hand in both of hers. “Please, be patient. I promise I will tell you what troubles me before … before we wed.”

He frowned. “What have I done, Sam?”

She shook her head again. “Nothing. It’s not you, my Lucien. It’s what I must do. And I’m terrified.”

He bit back a litany of questions, as he looked into her pleading gaze, remembering her request that he be patient.

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