The Romancing of Evangeline Ipswich by Marcia Lynn McClure Read Free Book Online Page A

never settles for second best or convenience the way some people do. Believe me, he could have his choice of women.” Jennie shrugged. “But no one has managed to win his heart yet.”
    “I find that rather hard to believe,” Evangeline admitted.
    “Me too,” Jennie agreed. “But it’s true.” Jennie cocked her head to one side then, asking, “And how did your Mr. Floyd Longfellow take the news that you were leaving Meadowlark Lake, hmm?”
    Evangeline shrugged. “I have no idea. He didn’t say a word to me before I left, even when he passed me in the general store the day before I did.” She exhaled a heavy sigh of a burden lifted. “And I’m so very, very glad he didn’t. He’s a kind man of sorts. But he really just wants a wife so that he’ll have a mother for his little girls. Furthermore, I’m not at all attracted to him…not a bit.”
    “Good!” Jennie said. “I don’t want an old widower with needy children for you as a husband, Evie. I want you to be swept away in passion, romance, and true, true love the way I have been with Calvin.”
    “My father was an old widower, you know,” Evangeline teased her friend.
    But Jennie laughed. “Your father is a mythical Greek god of masculinity and beauty, Evie! Oh, I was so in love with your father when I was about five years old that I once told my mother I was going to marry him one day. You can imagine my devastation when my mother told me that Mr. Ipswich was already married to Mrs. Ipswich and that I couldn’t marry him myself.” Jennie clamped a hand to her breast over her heart. “I was miserable for a week with despair!”
    Evangeline laughed yet sympathized, “How tragic, Jennie! I never knew.”
    “Yes, I was quite overwrought,” Jennie admitted. “It wasn’t until Mother allowed me to eat an entire dozen cookies that I was able to rally. And therein is my point: your Mr. Longfellow, the sad widower, and your father, the dashing Judge Ipswich, are two different recipes entirely!” Jennie shook her head and emphatically reiterated, “No. I will not allow you to resign yourself to Mr. Longfellow, the poor, needy man. No. You shall have what I have with Calvin. I am certain of it, Evie. So put those thoughts of resignation—of acceptance that you are not meant to have what I and your two sisters have in love and companionship with a husband—completely from your mind.”
    “And just how do you know what’s in my mind?” Evangeline baited, though she knew exactly how Jennie knew what was in her mind: because Jennie knew what was truly in Evangeline’s heart, and it was not this Floyd Longfellow.
    “I’d rather you married his son than him! He, at least, sounds as if he has a sense of humor.”
    Evangeline smiled. “You do remember everything in our letters, don’t you?”
    “Yes, I do!” Jennie assured her. “Especially being that I’ve had nothing to do for weeks but read them over and over and over while I’ve lain in bed like an invalid.”
    “Speaking of which,” Evangeline began, rising from her chair, “we best get you back in bed before your husband comes home and thinks I’m not taking proper care of you.”
    “Oh, Calvin is going to be so glad to have you here, Evie,” Jennie said as Evangeline helped her stand. “He hasn’t complained—not one word—but I know he must be tired of waiting on me hand and foot, of eating bacon and eggs all the time. After a long day at the lumber mill, he comes home so tired, and I’ve felt so bad that I haven’t been able to do anything for him.”
    “Well, I hope that I’m worth the inconvenience of having a houseguest,” Evangeline said.
    “It’s no inconvenience, Evie,” Jennie said, smiling at her as they walked slowly back to the bedroom. “You’re a blessing…truly a blessing.”
    Just as Evangeline had tucked Jennie back into bed, the front door burst open, and a stocky, solid-looking man with light blond hair and blue eyes entered the