Rivers Rushing to the Sea by Jacquelyn Cook

Rivers Rushing to the Sea by Jacquelyn Cook

Author:Jacquelyn Cook [Cook, Jacquelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks Inc.


Chapter XII

The next morning Mignonne rode down in the elevator holding her breath, wondering what the day would bring forth. Confused, ill at ease, she clasped both hands over her heart when she looked down upon a curly head and blue linen coat. She was happy to see Robert alone. With Cooper around, Robert had once again become shy.

In fact, Robert had retreated into an ominous silence after Combahee’s luckless race. Robert needed encouragement. Forgetting about herself and thinking only of him, she formed a cheery greeting on smiling lips.

The man looked up. It was not Robert, after all. It was Cooper.

There was no stopping the elevator’s descent. And Cooper was already bowing low, opening the iron door, helping her step from her birdcage.

“Good morning,” she said politely. “Where’s . . . ”

“Little Brother? Oh he’s fetching and carrying. Pa’s calling fo’ this and fo’ that to be put by his bed. Robert told me to come on and take you for a stroll around the garden. You and I need to get acquainted.”

“Oh, but that’s taking your time. I’ll be quite all right . . . . ”

“Nonsense! I’m proud to be seen escorting the prettiest filly in Saratoga,” he said, putting her hand in the crook of his elbow and giving it a pat.

She swallowed. She had ambivalent feelings about Cooper. She was pleased that Robert’s brother admired her. Something about the virility he exuded made her want to preen and be her prettiest. That something made her flutter her eyelashes flirtatiously at the tall man of the world.

She regretted her action immediately. He twirled the corner of his well-waxed mustache and winked wickedly. He guided her across the piazza and into the dew-fresh garden. The beautiful park beside the hotel was already filling with people walking for their health, but he led her to a secluded path that had tall shrubs screening the view of onlookers. There were twists and nooks that afforded long moments of privacy.

Cooper was keeping up a flow of casual conversation, but he was holding her far too close against him. She pulled her hand from his arm on the pretense of fixing her parasol.

With a more breathable space between them, she asked. “What about your father? How did he take the news of Combahee’s race?”

Cooper laughed. “When he has time to think about it, he’ll understand. Saratoga’s August horse races have been a national event since 1864. Even having a horse good enough to enter will help us to make a name for our horse farm.”

“That makes sense,” Mignonne replied.

“If Combahee could have won we’d have made a killing because of the odds on what I bet. It would have been enough to pay our debts and taxes. We’d have started on the road to living in the manner to which the Edgefields have become accustomed.”

She watched him as his eyes narrowed and his voice hardened. Suddenly she noticed that he had lost the flat drawl.

He only talked that way to further irritate Robert, she realized.



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