Six Little Sunflowers: Historical Romance Novella (American State Flower) by Gina Welborn

Author:Gina Welborn [Welborn, Gina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Forget Me Not Romances, a division of Winged Publications
Published: 2016-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

A fire, once ignited, was tended with care, and a tribe, when travelling through a country, carried with them a piece of burning or smoldering bark, which they blew into a flame to kindle a fire at their various halting places…

~The Chemistry of Fire and Fire Prevention

Friday evening – May 29th

Carey Hotel ballroom

HE SHOULD HAVE NEVER SAID YES.

Carp checked the time on his wristwatch. “She’s late.”

Joe patted Carp’s shoulder as the orchestra began a new piece. “Relax. She’ll be here before the clock strikes midnight.” He tucked his dark, shoulder-length hair behind his ears, then tugged on the sleeves of his tuxedo. “Now stop scowling. You’re scaring the ladies away.”

Carp grit his teeth. From where he and Joe stood at the perimeter of the ballroom, fifty feet from the entrance, he could see the cheerful faces, all thrilled to be celebrating his and Félicie’s engagement. Everyone in Wichita knew how he and Félicie adhered to punctuality. By her lateness, they’d aptly conclude something was amiss. He should be happy she was late.

He was happy. Everything was proceeding as planned.

“Don’t forget,” Carp said, forcing on a smile, “we’re fishing tomorrow at nine.”

Joe grimaced. “Sure you want to skip Mrs. Kleg’s kaffeeklatsch?”

“Absolutely.”

Once he missed attending the kaffeeklatsch with Félicie, then when he failed to escort her to church, the gossips would spread word of a falling-out. By Monday, he would be a free man. He ought to be thankful Félicie had finally revealed her true, judgmental colors, for it made their falling out easier. He could have told Félicie that he felt no shame for posing in the nude. Mrs. Melton and her art students had been so thankful to finally have a live model. Instead of ogling as he’d expected, each lady had studied him as though considering a lake or a hawk or a field of sunflowers. During most the time he posed, he’d worn a discrete covering.

He could have explained that to Félicie. He didn’t care if he disappointed or offended anyone. It didn’t matter what she thought. It shouldn’t matter.

Except it did.

In the time they’d spent together, her feelings and opinions had come to matter.

He didn’t need a woman living in his conscience. This was why their engagement needed to end.

“Gotta adhere to the plan,” he muttered.

Joe shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re giving up the best bienenstich in Wichita for smelly fish.”

“And your company.”

“This is what I get for saving your life—perpetual friendship.” Joe released a dramatic sigh. “I was an eleven-year-old chump. A handsome one, mind you, but still a chump.”

Carp laughed. “You also get fish.”

“I’d rather have bienenstich served to me by Mrs. Kleg’s pretty, little maid.”

“Without Mrs. Kleg around.”

“Exactly.”

At that, they turned their attention back to the entrance where the Laurents now stood without Félicie. Both looked jubilant. The green-beaded frock emphasized Rena’s hourglass curves, more than it had Félicie’s. Carp turned his head a fraction to get a better look at his first and closest friend. He’d wager the man’s intense (almost angry) gaze was fixated on one thing and one alone—Rena Laurent.

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