When Love Calls (18 page)

“You can’t take only her.” Tessa poked out her bottom lip.

Lincoln chuckled. “No, we’re all going. Right, Hannah?”

“Absolutely.” She shook out the folds of her skirt. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The aviary wasn’t far from their picnic site. Set on a hill and nestled beneath a heavy canopy of trees, the flight cage appeared to be about as long as four boxcars.

“There are so many.” Hannah placed her hand on the wire mesh of the structure. Inside it, a wild turkey waddled across the length of the yard. Small trees offered a place for the birds to light and nest. A few other wooden A-frames provided excellent opportunities to view the birds. A miniature pond gave the ducks a place to swim, and crates made secure homes for the waterfowl. Never had Hannah seen so many species in one place. She’d spent many hours bird watching, but this aviary gave an individual the opportunity to study many birds at one time.

Charlotte pointed to a sleeping barn owl on an upper branch. “This is lovely, but it’s kind of sad too. All these birds can only fly as far as the net allows.”

“But this is a wonderful habitat.”

Charlotte shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d want to be caged, no matter how nice the cage was.”

Hannah moved down the length of the aviary, away from her sisters, scanning the area for feathered treasures. “Look, Lincoln, there’s a ruffed grouse, and that one is a sharp-tailed one.”

Lincoln trailed behind her. “What’s the difference?”

“The ruffed grouse is usually referred to as a partridge. The sharp-tailed grouse has a longer, pointier tail. Grouses have elaborate courtship displays, and they’re a precocial species.”

“They’re what?”

Hannah turned toward him and smiled. “They hatch with their eyes open. They’re self-reliant from birth. They don’t even need their mother to feed them.”

“Self-reliant, huh? I suppose they’re a favorite of yours.”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” She moved a few feet farther down and climbed onto a log to see into a nest. The log began to wobble.

Lincoln caught her waist. “So tell me about those courtship displays.”

Did he honestly expect her to share that? With his hands splayed across her waist, sending a current through her entire body?

He helped her down, stepped away, and motioned with his hand for her to continue. “Go on. I’m listening.”

Could he see the flush of her cheeks? Her discomfort at the subject? He cocked an eyebrow at her, making it clear he didn’t plan to let this go and that he enjoyed making her squirm.

She could do this. It was factual information. She cleared her throat and met his eye. “The birds show off at dawn and dusk. The males display their plumage and call out to the females. They may drum their wings or rattle their tails, and occasionally they may fight with other males.”

Lincoln held her gaze. “If he’s willing to fight for her, then the female he’s interested in must really be a prize.”

Hannah’s heart fluttered like the wings of a bird. She looked away. She had to find something to distract him from this present course of discussion. “Hey, look, that’s a prairie chicken.”

“I suppose you even know its Latin name.”

“
Tympanuchus cupido
.”

“Did you say something about Cupid?”

Her mouth opened, but no words formed.

Good grief. This was going from bad to worse.

 20 

Had Lincoln just made the situation worse?

Hannah scurried around the end of the aviary and away from him as fast as she could. Right after she had reiterated her standings on a relationship with him, he’d gone and made romantic inferences. Now she’d done an about-face and not spoken to him since. When would he learn some verbal restraint and not push too hard?

From the look on Hannah’s face, he’d scared the wits out of her. She wasn’t some young lady given to a casual infatuation. She probably sensed, as surely as he did, that he was playing for keeps this time, and this was no game at all. He couldn’t push her into that. She had to choose it for herself. But what if he’d ruined that chance?

Tessa grabbed Hannah’s hand and pulled her toward the path. “Enough of the squawking birds. Let’s go fly like one on the circle swings.”

Hannah glanced back at Lincoln and shrugged, surrendering to Tessa’s insistence.

“Well, Charlotte.” Lincoln swept his arm toward the path. “It looks like we’re headed to the circle swings too.”

The winding path led to the American Circle Swing Company’s creation situated in an open area. Unlike the large, free-flying swings at the World’s Fair, these eight narrow porch-like swings
were mounted on horizontal rods extending from a center pole. Above each chair, an arched piece of metal was attached to a rope that was connected to the top of the pole. Riders could then rock the swing back and forth, but in reality, the swing didn’t truly swing or fly anywhere.

To propel the circle swing, a person would push a beam that extended from the main pole. Like the playground merry-go-round, the faster the pusher walked or ran, the faster the swings could go. On special park days, sometimes a horse would be hooked up to the beam, but most days, a local youth would be on hand to provide the service for a coin or two.

Lincoln smiled when he spotted a sturdy young man working the swings. Perfect. This strapping young fellow would be able to provide an excellent whirl.

Charlotte touched his arm. “I’ll get Tessa to go with me so you can ride with Hannah.”

“Thanks for your help, but I’m not sure she wants to ride with me.”

“Trust me, she does, but she doesn’t want to admit it to herself.” With that, Charlotte hurried to join her sisters.

Lincoln quickened his pace and pressed a few coins into the young man’s outstretched hand. “Give us a good go, okay?”

The youth looked at the money, closed his fist, and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir. I will.”

“Come on, Tessa.” Charlotte linked her arm in her younger sister’s. “You can have the inside.”

They scrambled away, and Lincoln smiled at Hannah, hoping to ease her concerns. Her auburn-colored hair had blown loose and whipped around the high collar of her ruffled shirtwaist, but it was her hazel eyes that captured him. Filled with fiery amber flecks, they matched her personality all too well. Fire right down to her soul.

Hmm. Fire could be a beautiful thing to watch, but it could certainly destroy too. Was he setting himself up to be burned by
a lady who’d already made up her mind about him? Perhaps he should be careful.

He sighed. Who was he kidding? The spark she’d planted had already begun to smolder, and it was up to Hannah to fan the flame or extinguish it altogether. He wouldn’t push, but he was certainly going to do his best to provide excellent kindling.

He motioned toward the swing opposite her sisters. “I guess that leaves us. You can have the inside too.”

“Lincoln . . .” Her voice held a note of longing and a touch of censure.

“Hannah, it’s just a ride on a swing. I’m sure you’ll love the thrill of the wind in your face.” He swallowed. “But it’s your decision.”

Her sisters called for her to hurry, and she looked from him to the swing. Her teeth grazed her lower lip. “I guess one ride couldn’t hurt.”

Hannah dug her fingers into the armrest of the swing until they hurt. The faster the young man ran, the harder it became for Hannah to remain fixed to her half. She slid toward Lincoln and pulled herself back. With Lincoln’s arm draped casually across the back of the seat, if she let go she’d have no choice but to lean into his chest. Her cheeks warmed at the thought.

“Ready?” the youth called, picking up his pace.

Tessa whooped and Charlotte squealed as the swing spun faster. The centrifugal force weakened Hannah’s tenuous hold. Her fingers slipped, and she slid across the seat—and into Lincoln’s open arms.

Immediately, he pulled her tight against him as if he’d been waiting for the moment.

That figured.

She felt the hardness of his chest against her back and started to pull away. His hand came to rest protectively over her midsection, searing her flesh through her shirtwaist.

He pressed his lips to her ear. “Can’t let you go flying off like some
Tympanuchus cupido
.”

She swallowed hard as her heart drummed against her rib cage. Could he feel the pounding beneath his large hand?

This was all so wrong. She couldn’t let herself lean on him here—or in life. She had to stand on her own. The only one she could count on was herself. She should find some resolve and regain her rightful place.

But even as the swing slowed, not one muscle would heed her command to move away. What was it about this man’s touch that paralyzed her and made her heart nearly dance?

“I guess one ride couldn’t hurt.”
Her own words taunted her. Couldn’t hurt? Boy, had she been wrong.

Finding the last remnant of her resolve, she wiggled away and hooked her hand around the armrest. Safe. At last.

If she could only manage to avoid his touch until they got home, she’d be fine. At least that’s what she told herself.

Hannah adjusted the pins in her hat after the swing ride. “Charlotte, would you please gather the picnic basket? We’ve taken up enough of Mr. Cole’s time.”

“We’re not going already. Mr. Cole promised me I could fish.” Tessa whipped around toward Lincoln. “Didn’t you?”

“That I did, and I’m a man of my word.”

“It’s getting late, Tessa. I can take you fishing another time. Besides, you don’t have a pole or any bait.”

“Actually, Hannah, it’s in the Reo.” Lincoln relieved Charlotte of the basket.

Charlotte flanked Lincoln on the other side, her not-so-innocent face framed by a halo of waves. Traitor. She was making it obvious it was three against one.

Hannah huffed out a breath. “Oh, all right. A short excursion. The sun will be setting soon.”

They drove to the edge of Union Park’s lake, where Lincoln
rented two rowboats. Charlotte and Tessa hurried off with fishing tackle in hand to claim the first rowboat, leaving Hannah and Lincoln the other.

Lincoln flicked his wrist toward the dock. “After you.”

The dock bobbed beneath the pressure of their footfalls, and a cool breeze filled the air with the lake’s tangy, spring scent. Tied at the end of the dock was the rowboat.

Their farm pond had had a boat, and she’d climbed in and out of it plenty of times without assistance. If she hurried, she could get into the boat before Lincoln could insist on helping her—and touching her.

She reached the edge and placed a hand on the dock support.

“Hannah, wait. Let me—”

“I can manage by myself.” She hiked up her skirt and lowered her foot. The distance to the rowboat was farther than she’d anticipated, but at last her shoe found solid wood.

She let go of the support to lower her other foot, but her balance shifted. The boat tilted and pitched her into the chilly lake.

Sputtering, she stood up in the shallow water only to hear the sound of Lincoln’s roaring laughter echoing off the glassy surface of the water.

She glared at him. How dare he? “Are you going to stand there? Aren’t you going to help me out?”

“Well, Miss Independent, you said you could do it yourself.” In four long strides, he left the dock and sat down in the grass on the shore.

She gaped at him. Despite the shivers wracking her body, coal-hot anger gnawed at the pit of her stomach. Was he honestly going to leave her to slog out of this lake alone?

The smirk on his face said he most certainly was.

She sloshed through the weeds to the edge of the shore. Her heavy, water-soaked clothes weighted down each step. Her foot sank into the mire at the bottom, and the mud sucked her shoe off. She bent, dug in the slimy goo, and fished out the shoe with her hands. She heaved it toward the shore, where it missed Lincoln by
an inch. Too bad. Maybe her aim would be better with the other shoe. She removed it and heaved it toward him.

He caught it in his right hand. “Want help now?”

“No!”

“Good.” He leaned back and rested on his elbows. “Nice sunset, isn’t it?”

Oooh, that man. When she got out of here, she was going to give him a tongue-lashing he’d never forget.

Propping her hands on her hips, she determined the best way to climb out. Unfortunately, this was not a gradual-sloping sand beach. No, she had to fall in a lake where the water had eroded the shore and created a ninety-degree angle of dirt and weeds.

Gripping a clump of dry weeds in her numb hands, she pulled herself halfway up the embankment. Then the weeds broke free, and she tumbled backward into the chilly water and landed in a most unladylike position.

After shoving a clump of weeds off her face, she clambered to her feet. When she looked at the bank, there stood Lincoln, now in shirtsleeves and barefoot. He stretched out his hand toward her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

“I know you could get out all on your own.” His voice was tender, and the mirth was gone from his face. “But you don’t have to.”

Her anger blew away like the down of a dandelion, and her insides swirled. He was making a point, and he was offering her much more than assistance in getting out of this lake. But did he realize what he was asking her to do?

She was the oldest sister. She took responsibility. She handled everything life threw at her, and she didn’t count on anyone’s help.
Not even the Lord’s
, a small voice whispered inside her.

Rubbing her chilled arms, she took one step closer and stopped.

“Hannah, I’m giving you the freedom to choose.” His dove-blue eyes were filled with hope. “I won’t push you, but I thought you liked taking risks.”