[Desert Roses 03] - Beneath A Harvest Sky

[Desert Roses 03] - Beneath A Harvest Sky Read Free Page A

Book: [Desert Roses 03] - Beneath A Harvest Sky Read Free
Author: Tracie Peterson
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    She hesitated, then cleared her throat with a delicate little cough. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your plans.” She glanced up to find him gazing at her.
    “My plans for a quick meal alone were worth interrupting. Especially when I can share the company of one as pleasant as yourself.” He toyed with his necktie and smiled.
    Rainy felt her stomach do a flip and reached for her water. Perhaps a drink would help to settle her nerves. “I’ve long admired your Scottish brogue,” she said out of desperation when the water didn’t do anything to calm her. “My family is also from Scotland. My father was born in Edinburgh.”
    “Truly?” Duncan asked, his tone revealing his surprise. “I was actually born here in the United States, but my father is a Methodist minister, and the call took him to the land of his ancestors to preach. We moved shortly after my birth and lived there for twelve years.
    I’ve refined my speech a bit since returning. I suppose an absence of nearly twenty years should alter the cadence and intonations rather completely, but . . .” he said, leaning in closer, “I can roll my r ’s in a right bonny fashion if I’ve a mind to do it.” He emphasized his brogue, making Rainy laugh.
    The Harvey Girl again appeared, bringing them a pot of English tea. Rainy smiled when she realized Duncan had ordered tea.
    “Most American men prefer coffee,” she said.
    “Can’t say I’m not given over to drinking a cup now and again,” Duncan admitted. “But for supper, I prefer tea.”
    Rainy thought it all marvelous. “So your parents are Scottish?” She stirred a bit of cream into her tea and noticed Duncan did likewise.
    “Actually we’re all American-born. My father’s father was a Scot who lived in the borderlands, and his mother was English. Their families strictly forbade them to see each other, but young love refused to listen.” He smiled and leaned forward. “They eloped and eventually, because both families refused to accept the marriage, they came to America. My mother’s people are Scottish through and through. None of those distasteful English skeletons to hide.” He pulled back and drank his tea.
    Rainy sipped from her cup for a moment. They had a great deal in common—more so than she might have imagined. “My ancestors are Scottish and English as well. My uncle Sean still lives on a farm outside of Edinburgh. My parents would like to go back for a visit someday. Of course, with the economy as it is now— banks failing and the gold standard crumbling—I think they’re almost afraid to hope for such a thing.”
    “It is a bleak time, to be sure.”
    The waitress arrived and in perfect Harvey fashion served their meals. “I must say, the breaded pork tenderloin is my favorite,” she told Duncan as she fussed over him and made certain he had what he needed. But true to her job, she turned equal attention on Rainy as she placed the roasted loin of beef in front of her. “And this is my second favorite. I think the chef does it up better than just about any place along the Santa Fe line.”
    Rainy smiled. “It certainly looks good.”
    The Harvey Girl made certain they had everything they could possibly need, then left them to the privacy of their meal. Rainy looked up with uncertainty.
    “Would you like to say grace?”
    Duncan threw her a look of admiration. “I would like it very much.”
    He murmured a prayer and blessed the food, leaving Rainy at peace for the first time in days. How I’ve longed for God to send a man into my life who I could seriously consider as a husband. Not only is Duncan Hartford handsome in a rugged and understated way, but he holds to my faith and beliefs. Is he the one, God? She looked at Duncan even as she poised the question in her mind.
    He sliced into his pork and extended her a piece.
    “Would you like to try it?”
    Rainy shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ve had it many times before. It’s also one of my

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