Wishing on Buttercups Read Online Free PDF Page B

choosing yet another subject that made her uncomfortable.
    “I appreciate that, thank you. Please forgive me, but it is not something I care to discuss.” Her blue eyes locked with his for a moment before she resumed walking, her long green skirt swaying with the movement of her hips.
    Jeffery surged forward, averting his gaze from her alluring figure to a passing wagon. Why did his heart gallop whenever this young woman was around? “Is your friend ill?”
    She turned her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you mean.”
    His mind clouded in confusion. Was it possible he had made yet another mistake? Surely not. “Elizabeth Corwin.”
    Her eyes narrowed, and she increased her pace as though she’d suddenly remembered an important engagement.
    He rubbed his jaw. Possibly she hadn’t heard him, but unease niggled at him. Should he change the subject again or continue to pursue this one? He hurried forward and tried again. “You picked up her mail last week when I spoke to you at the post office. I assumed she might be indisposed, and you were collecting it.”
    This time she halted so abruptly he nearly stumbled into her. “Mr. Tucker, you said you were not trying to pry, but it certainly does not appear that way. Miss Corwin is someone I do not choose to discuss.” She tugged at the sleeve of her dress, straightening the fabric. “I hope you will forgive me, but I don’t care to be questioned about my personal business or friends so you can use the information for your novel. I must be going.” She hastened toward the path leading to the bridge crossing the Powder River.
    He hurried after her and touched her arm. “I won’t bother you further, but I must know. Is that why you persist in addressing me as ‘Mr. Tucker’ when we decided on less formality?”
    She gave a brief nod. “I suppose in part, though I must admit I’m not entirely comfortable using your Christian name. I am sorry for appearing brusque, but in all honesty I wish you’d find some other subject than our boardinghouse for your novel. I am not happy about you digging into our lives and asking questions, even if you do need material. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She picked up the hem of her skirt and stepped onto the walkway alongside the bridge, moving away from him at a rapid pace.
    He waited, hoping she would reconsider and turn back. If anything, she increased her speed. Jeffery stared at her retreating back, baffled by her response. What did his book have to do with anything? It had never occurred to him that a work of fiction could affect her life one way or the other.
    Jeffery wanted to race after Beth—no, Miss Roberts, as she’d made clear she preferred—and convince her of his good intentions. His mind returned to his last pointed question concerning Elizabeth Corwin and Beth’s pained response. Somehow he’d hurt her again, and he didn’t have an inkling of how or why. When she’d stopped and looked into his face, her expression exuded confusion and fear. His heart twisted. Somehow he must find a way to win her confidence and trust.
     
    Beth held her chin up as she continued to town. Her heels thudded on the wooden planks of the bridge, giving emphasis to the pounding of her heart. Her illusion that she might find a friend in Jeffery Tucker was simply that: an illusion. That had become apparent the moment he admitted to shaping a story after their lives. The knots in her stomach had yet to untangle since the day he’d escorted her to supper. If only she hadn’t allowed herself to envision a relationship with him. But no matter how badly she might want to take the chance, she’d found out the hard way that men couldn’t always be trusted.
    And asking about Elizabeth Corwin. Oh my. Beth’s hand went to her throat. Thankfully it appeared he didn’t suspect anything was amiss. Her stomach coiled tighter. She wasn’t sure how she would continue to avoid his questions. Would he persist in trying to discover who