Fate's Intervention by Barbara Woster Read Free Book Online Page B

interruptions. Taking advantage of the housekeeper ’ s temporary absence from sight, he decided to prove his prowess.
    They rounded the bend and, with alacrity, he pulled her up short, yanked her around by the arm, and straight into his torso. Arms flailed as both tried desperately to regain their balance. It didn ’ t work, and they landed in a heap on the ground.
    However, the ludicrous display and buffoonish behavior did not deter Stefan from his goal of kissing her. The moment they hit the ground, he rose, and planted a big, wet, mushy kiss on her closed mouth – after bashing her nose with his.
    Unfortunately, Bridget chose that moment to round the corner. Yelling in her native tongue, she started swatting at Stefan with a switch. The swatting increased in fervor when she saw the blood that was seeping from Marcelle ’ s nose , where Stefan ’ s head had collided when they fell.
    The Mill ’ s family moved a month later, without Marcelle having to lay eyes on Stefan again.
    It had been such a disgusting experience that Marcelle hadn ’ t allowed another man access to her mouth in the four years since. That wasn ’ t a difficult decision to make, since all the men that called upon her reminded her of her father and she didn ’ t want to think of her father while kissing a man.
    The smile vanished when her father returned to the forefront of her mind; him and his strange behavior of late. She ’ d have to take a walk down memory lane another time. Right now, she had to find out what was going on. He wasn ’ t pushing her into marriage for her financial well-being. She knew he wasn ’ t. He could have done that long ago. No, there was something more and she wasn ’ t going to rest until she found out what. A good place to start was with his physician. Her father may not want to discuss his health, but she would pry it from Doc Franklin. Come hell or high water, she would.
    She grabbed her shawl and snuck out. Determination on her face and in her stride.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Peter eyed his daughter suspiciously across the short expanse of the carriage. Something was definitely bothering her. He could tell by the set of her jaw, the stiffness of her back and the ongoing silence, but the most obvious clue was that she was riding in the carriage with him. She never rode in the carriage with him on their trips to Lander. She much preferred the back of a horse to the interior of a carriage.
    Then again, so did he – normally – but things for him weren ’ t normal any longer and he knew he probably could not maintain his seat in a saddle.
    When he informed his daughter of his continued tiredness , and that he planned to take the carriage to the horse auction, he expected her to argue in favor of forgoing the trip entirely, but her eyes had only widened slightly. Then, much to his surprise, she turned back toward the stables, her horse in tow.
    She still hadn ’ t said anything to him when she crawled into the carriage with him. Now, a half hour later, she sat staring silently out at the lush green landscape. In fact, she ’ d hardly said two words at all to him in the past week.
    “ Marcelle, dear, ” her father said softly, “ if you ’ re fretting that I ’ ll make you marry Brian Walker, relax. I don ’ t think he ’ d suit at all. ” That should make her happy again, he thought, but she surprised him again by simply muttering, “ Who? ”
    “ You know whom , dear, ” he answered. “ The banker from over in Pinedale. ”
    “ Oh, him, ” Marcelle said, her gaze remaining averted. “ I never thought you would. ”
    “ Oh, well, then, drat it all, whatever has been bothering you this past week? ”
    Marcelle turned then to look at her father and for the first time he saw worry outlining her wide, brown eyes.
    “ What is it, dear? ” He asked.
    “ Why didn ’ t you tell me, Father ? ” Marcelle whispered. She fought the urge to cry, not wanting to give in to histrionics before giving him a chance