North Dakota Weddings (33 page)

Opening his car door, Brandon sighed and slid from the seat. Standing on Gladys’s porch, he knocked on the door and waited. Laughter drifted from inside the house. Familiar laughter. The door opened, allowing the sumptuous smell of simmering roast and vegetables to envelop him. He smiled.

“Dr. Selman, how good of you to come,” Gladys said.

“Thank you for inviting me.” He handed over the bottle of sparkling cider he’d brought.

Gladys took it from him. “Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“It was my pleasure.” Brandon listened to the voices emanating from elsewhere in the house.

“Make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in a few.”

“Do you have other guests?”

“Yes, I didn’t think you’d mind. Two of my guests couldn’t make it, but just as well. Amber brought her roommate along.”

Amber
. Gladys disappeared and, uncertain what to do, Brandon sank onto the sofa, growing more uncomfortable with each second. A twenty-four-hour news station played on the television set, though the sound was muted. He watched as he considered his options. Muriel, Amber’s roommate, had read far too much into his visit to Amber the day she’d been injured. Then she’d suggested he and Amber made a happy couple at the reenactment. He’d never known such an outspoken person.

Brandon slumped against the sofa. If he were honest with himself—he was more wounded at Amber’s horrified reaction than anything else. But these insane thoughts had to stop.

“Dr. Selman.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Muriel sat next to him on the sofa. “I’m supposed to ask what you’d like to drink. Sparkling cider or tea, coffee, milk, water—”

“Water will be fine, thank you.”

“Good. Why don’t you wash your hands and go into the dining room?”

What was he doing here? Gladys had made it sound like days gone by, where on occasion she’d invite him over for a decent, yet private, meal.

Once he’d washed up, he strolled to the dining room, marveling that he had yet to see Amber. Covered with a country-home vinyl tablecloth, the dining table was a lavish display of food, even for Gladys. Brandishing pot holders in each hand, she carried an oval turkey-sized dish laden with the roast, carrots, and potatoes.

On cue, his stomach grumbled. Amber appeared behind Gladys, carrying a large dish in each hand.

Brandon abandoned his position and rushed to her aid. “Here, let me help you.” He took the green bean casserole from her, making sure to grip the potholder underneath. In the process, his hand touched hers.

“Why, thank you.” She gazed at him—her eyes the very amber of her name.

“Dr. Selman,” Gladys said, “you can set those here.” She pointed where he could place the green beans.

Realizing he’d acted like a schoolboy, it shamed him to feel himself blushing. Grown men didn’t blush.

“My, we’re the absentminded professor tonight, aren’t we?” Gladys winked.

The ladies took their seats, and Brandon followed, sitting where he was told. This wasn’t the evening he wanted. He needed to relax, enjoy the meal, but at least two nosy women sat at the table, and Amber sat across from him.

Gladys asked him to say grace, which he did.

Once plates were loaded with food, everyone seemed too busy eating to talk much. Finally, Brandon broke the silence. “I think this is your best, Gladys.” He let his fork rest against his plate for the moment.

“I’m not sure I’ve eaten anything this wonderful before,” Amber said.

“I second that,” Muriel said around a mouthful. “No, I mean I want seconds of that.”

Laughter surrounded the table.

From the other end, Gladys beamed with pride. “You’re all too good to me. You know, you’re my family, really. I have my sister who lives up near Devil’s Lake. She comes to see me on occasion. But that’s it.”

Her sentiments warmed Brandon’s heart.

“Wait until you see what I made for dessert,” she said, eyes teasing.

A cell phone rang. Amber frowned. “Excuse me…I thought I turned it off.” Snatching the phone from her pocket, she exited the dining room.

Gladys stood. “Dessert, you two?”

“Yes, please.” Preoccupied with the frown he’d seen on Amber’s face, he wasn’t aware Muriel had spoken to him until she cleared her throat.

“Dr. Selman. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” She slid a few more carrots onto her plate.

“Forgive me, what did you say?” He stared at her plate, loaded with thirds or was it fourths?

“What? I love food, what can I say?”

“You must have a great metabolism.”

Sticking another bite in her mouth, she chewed as she smiled, then swallowed. “What I was saying was, you should go check on Amber.”

The idea had occurred to him, but she was Amber’s roommate.

Seeming to read his mind, again, with a full mouth, she said, “Hello, I’m eating.”

Brandon eyed Muriel. Though he didn’t consider himself more important than anyone else, he knew that both Gladys and Jim insisted the volunteers address him with a title to ensure at least a modicum of respect. The corner of his mouth drew up. Muriel wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him.

He liked that. “I’m sure she’s fine. Probably chatting on her cell.”

Muriel frowned and stopped chewing then shook her head as if she knew some dreadful, hidden secret.

Concern flooded him, but then he reasoned if it were true, Muriel would be the first to check on her. He’d pegged her as an overly concerned type the evening he’d spent at the cabin, talking to a medicated Amber. He sighed. What was taking Gladys so long with dessert? Maybe she had discovered what had become of Amber. He needed to excuse himself for the evening.

The front door slammed. Gladys called from the kitchen. “Dr. Selman, can you find out who that was? Someone either came in or left. I’ll have your dessert out in a jiff.”

“See?” Muriel proceeded to scrape the last of the potatoes onto her plate. With larger than life eyes, she said, “I’m eating. Gladys asked you.”

A niggle at the back of his mind suggested that Muriel was in cahoots with Gladys in an attempt to pair him with Amber. But he doubted Amber had left in a dramatic attempt for him to follow.

“If you’ll excuse me, then.” He left the table and exited the house through the front door. Amber was bent over the white railing that surrounded the small porch, looking like someone about to lose her supper.

Brandon rushed to her side. She was trembling. “Amber? Are you all right?”

She stiffened before turning to him. “Yes, everything is fine. I really have to go.” Fleeing the porch, she jogged down the drive and into the street.

“Miss McKinsey, Amber, wait!” It was no use.

Brandon jumped in his car and started the engine, driving slowly on the neighborhood street. Street lamps illuminated her as she ran.

When he approached her, he opened the window. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She stopped, catching her breath. “I know I must look like an idiot. I just want to go home.”

“Hop in,” he offered, though confused by her strange behavior.

She climbed into his car, looking wary.

“I can take you back to get your purse.”

“I didn’t bring one.” She stared straight ahead.

“All right, then.” Brandon phoned Gladys and explained that he was taking Amber home. To his surprise, she seemed more pleased than concerned.

He ended the call. “If you were that afraid of Gladys’s dessert, all you had to say was, ‘No thank you.’”

His comment elicited at least a small laugh, but he noted the girl wasn’t going to give up the information he wanted. “You want to talk about it? Who called that upset you?”

“Please, I…can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He drove in silence until he arrived at her cabin. Stopping the car, he turned to face her. She’d already opened the car door.

The dome light revealed her red-rimmed eyes. “Thank you for the ride. Look, I appreciate all you’ve done for me, allowing me the experience of working at your museum. It’s important to me that you’re pleased with my work. But, I need to keep my personal life…well…personal.”

Brandon nodded. Amber shut the car door and jogged up the path to her dimly lit front door. He waited while she unlocked it and slipped into the cabin. Despite the fact that he’d not expressed an interest in her romantically, the cold stab of rejection threatened. Still, he knew that Amber McKinsey hadn’t rejected him personally. Something or someone had upset her.

As he backed from the driveway, he wished that she didn’t affect him. Wished that he could bury his concern. She’d drawn a line—one that should have been there to begin with.

A
mber surveyed the group of fifteen children who participated in the museum’s summer camp this week. In addition to the camp, Dr. Selman had worked to make the museum child friendly with interactive and hands-on exhibits. He’d incorporated live animals such as lizards, snakes, and turtles—all in appropriately contained environments in their respective exhibits, of course. The dinosaur exhibit included an area where children could don hard hats and dust sand from dinosaur fossil replicas.

His efforts revealed his obvious soft spot for the very young. The thought sent a tremble through Amber’s heart. It also made her wonder if he’d ever married. But she didn’t have much time to ponder the question.

Katie, a darling little girl with curly blond hair, held up a large sheet of paper covered in wet paint for Amber’s approval.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Amber proclaimed.

Katie stuck her fingers into brown paint, expanding on her impression of a triceratops. So far, they’d spent the week learning about dinosaurs, doing arts and crafts, studying the exhibits. Amber even gave them a tour of the nearby digs—a day they’d enjoyed the most. The museum had created a safe path for young children, or those who simply wanted a glimpse of the prehistoric dig site. No actual digging for them.

She put a finger to her lips and smiled. That day had been her first time anywhere near the digs since Dr. Selman pulled her out. She missed it. In fact, she missed him. His company. She’d spent time working with him on the displays and then briefly participated in the Lewis and Clark drama with him.

Then, there’d been dinner at Gladys’s home.

Amber recalled that night. After the crazy way she’d acted, she was surprised Dr. Selman hadn’t sent her packing. But the museum had been exceptionally busy the last two weeks. They needed her help.

Hating her thoughts at the moment, she walked around the long table where the children concentrated on their art. When Muriel had made the silly reference to a kiss during the reenactment, though furious, Amber had guiltily imagined sharing a kiss with Dr. Selman. During the busyness of that week, she’d longed to see him and had been delighted when he showed up at Gladys’s home. But then…she’d ruined everything because of her brother’s call. He’d left her a voice mail that he was in town, now that he was out of prison, and he wanted to see her. How was she supposed to react to that news?

When she’d told Dr. Selman she wanted to keep her personal life to herself, her heart had screamed in defiance as she watched the hurt shimmer in his eyes.

And now, she couldn’t get that image out of her mind.

If only there were a way…

“Now what do you think?” Six-year-old Andrew lifted his finger-painted stegosaurus.

“I think you’re going to be a famous artist one day.” Grateful she had the children’s camp as a distraction, she tousled his hair.

He beamed with pride. “Can I take this home to my mom?”

“Of course you can. In fact, make sure you take all your creations home to show your parents what you’ve been up to this week.”

She directed the children to begin cleaning up after themselves—a rule put in place from the beginning, thank goodness.

In her pocket, her cell vibrated, causing her pulse to race. It was sad when every phone call scared her. Tugging it from its snug hiding in her pocket, she looked at the number before answering.

“Cams!”

“Did I call at a bad time? I never know when you’re working.”

“I’ve got the museum’s summer camp this week. This is the last day and we’re cleaning up. I really can’t talk now.”

“No problem. Just wanted to find out how you’re doing?” Cams’s tone held subtle concern.

“What’s wrong?” Amber tugged on her earlobe while watching the children.
Hurry, Cams
.

Cams sighed on the other end. “Have you heard from…Michael?”

The garbage can brimmed with paper and art scraps. Amber pressed the trash deeper, allowing the children to stuff more in. “Oh Cams. How did you know?”

“He left a message here, looking for you. I arrived a few minutes ago and found it.”

“Look, I know you never would have given me away, had you been there. Who do you think told him where to find me?”

“Considering you haven’t told too many about your aversion to him, almost anyone could have told him where you are. My guess would be Dr. Young.”

“I figured. He had no way of knowing.”
And I plan to keep it that way
.

“What are you going to do? I’m worried about you.”

“Keep ignoring his calls, maybe get a new number.”
Hope he goes away
.

“Amber. Look, are you sure you shouldn’t just talk to him? I mean, come on. He’s your brother.”

“That’s mine!” Jonathan shouted at Greg.

“No, it’s mine.”

“Cams, I’ve really got to go. We’ll talk later.” She ended the call. “Boys, calm down.”