Fortune's Journey Read Free

you?”
    â€œI need fifty pounds of flour,” said Jamie. He was looking sideways at Fortune, trying hard to pretend he didn’t notice her.
    â€œYou must be planning on a lot of baking,” said Fortune with a laugh. She realized she was in one of her teasing moods, something her father had always claimed was a bad thing for any innocent bystanders. She looked Jamie over, feeling very sophisticated. He was handsome, but such a bumpkin he probably had hayseeds in his hair.
    Jamie was blushing again. “My mother feeds a lot of people.”
    â€œI imagine you must help her,” said Fortune slyly. “You should make someone a wonderful husband.”
    Even the tips of Jamie’s ears were crimson now. But instead of retreating, he clenched his jaw and looked directly into her eyes.
    â€œI suppose I would,” he said. “Are you interested?”
    At once the color drained from his face. Tossing the sack of flour over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, he rushed from the store in embarrassment.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with the lad?” asked Mr. Patchett, storking his way through the door. “He almost ran me down. And he looked paler than Walter when he’s made up to be the ghost of Hamlet’s father!”
    Fortune began to laugh. MacKenzie looked at her and lifted an eyebrow.
    â€œI know, I know,” she said. “That was cruel, and I shouldn’t have done it. But he was just so…so…”
    It was the storekeeper’s turn to chuckle. “You can explain when you see him again,” he said.
    Fortune looked startled. “What do you mean?”
    MacKenzie’s smile grew broader. “That was Jamie Halleck. You’re staying at his mother’s house.”
    Fortune groaned. She had done it again!

Chapter Two
    Jamie Halleck placed a huge platter of fried chicken on the table. Casting a sidelong look at Fortune, he left the room.
    Fortune felt herself flush.
    Edmund laughed raucously, his dark eyes flashing. “Looks like you have an admirer, little Fortune.”
    Fortune’s blush deepened. “My name is Fortune,” she said tersely. “Plain Fortune.”
    Edmund smiled. “He doesn’t think you’re plain.”
    â€œNow, Edmund,” clucked Mrs. Watson. “Leave the girl alone. Of course she has admirers. Why, when I was her age, the boys were flocking around me.”
    â€œMrs. Watson!” said Aaron admiringly. “What a memory you have!”
    The actress flared. “I remember that in my day young men had manners,” she said imperiously. “You’d better tend to them, Master Aaron, or young Fortune might start looking at that Jamie the way she looks at you.”
    Walter covered his laugh with a snort and tried to pretend it was a sneeze.
    I’d like to crawl under the table and die, thought Fortune as her blush continued to deepen. She was deeply grateful when Mr. Patchett cleared his throat and loudly asked if everyone was ready for a rehearsal later that evening.
    At once the troupe launched into a vigorous argument over the merits of The Widow’s Daughter, the quality of their parts, and the stupidity of the anticipated audience. Fortune silently thanked Mr. Patchett for changing the subject.
    Except for the fact that she was in an agony of embarrassment, the dinner was better than Fortune had expected. The Widow Halleck was such a fierce hawk of a woman it had seemed unlikely anything pleasant could come out of her kitchen Yet the chicken was tasty, the biscuits light and fluffy, the gravy smooth and savory.
    She wondered if Jamie had really helped make them. She was also bothered by the knowledge that she herself could not do it half so well.
    Jamie returned from the kitchen with another platter. The hungry group around the table fell upon it like vultures.
    Fortune averted her eyes. When she had teased Jamie in the store, it had seemed unlikely she would have