Free Wishing on Buttercups by Miralee Ferrell Page B

idea, I regret to say I do not have a romance planned for this novel. Not that your niece wouldn’t make a perfectly charming heroine, should the need arise.”
    Irritation rose. She didn’t care who saw her now, and she wasn’t about to go back to her room. That wink proved it—the rascal was toying with her. A charming heroine, indeed. She didn’t believe that for a moment. She clenched her hands and stalked into the room. “Good morning, Auntie. Mrs. Cooper.” She nodded at both women and turned her face away from Mr. Tucker.
    His voice held a hint of humor. “Miss Roberts. How is your knee faring this morning?”
    “Much better, thank you. The swelling is down, and I’m walking with barely a limp.” She took a step toward the stove. “The coffee smells delicious.”
    Jeffery pushed back his chair. “Here, let me get you a cup. It’s quite hot from sitting on the stove.” He reached for the pot. “I wouldn’t want you to burn yourself.”
    Beth shivered. “No thank you. I changed my mind. I’m going outside.” Sudden resentment swelled a knot in her throat. No sense in staying and giving him a chance to call yet more attention to her disfigurement. She needed to gather her composure. Turning, she limped out of the room and down the hall as fast as her knee would allow.
     
    Jeffery stared from Mrs. Roberts to Mrs. Cooper. What had happened? He’d given Beth what he thought was a compliment and offered to pour her a cup of coffee. All the color had drained from her face and then she’d scurried out the door like a woman possessed. “I hope you ladies will excuse me. I think I should check on Miss Roberts. I am afraid she might not be well.”
    Mrs. Roberts rose with a grunt. “No, Mr. Tucker, you will not. That’s my job. I daresay she won’t want to see you right now. At least not until she’s had a moment.” She sent him an unreadable look and plodded out of the room, head wagging.
    He turned to Mrs. Cooper, who sat quite still, clutching her teacup. “What did I do to upset her? Mrs. Roberts appears to know, but she did not choose to enlighten me. I fear I am at a loss.”
    “I have no idea, young man. I certainly did not hear or see anything offensive, but it appears I am not in Miss Roberts’s confidence either.” She frowned and set her cup on the saucer with a clatter. “Or, it appears, in her aunt’s.”
     
    Beth stumbled over the threshold leading out the back door, tears blinding her. She hated the weakness and brushed them away, but she couldn’t as easily dispel the sorrow that had assaulted her when she’d heard Jeffery’s words. He’d seen the scars on her wrist, but she’d never believed he’d call attention to them in such a heartless fashion. She’d even started warming toward him since he’d carried her home, but now all she felt was bruised. All the old taunts from childhood rushed back, sending her emotions reeling.
    Had she overreacted by leaving the kitchen so abruptly? They probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t stomped from the room. Well, not exactly stomped with this injured knee, but she’d certainly done her best to clomp and would have if it hadn’t hurt so much.
    Beth headed toward a low-hanging tree in the back of the house, lifting her chin as she trudged across the packed dirt that was edged with a scattering of late-summer flowers. She must not let this bother her so much. Burying herself in her work would help her heal. As soon as possible, she’d purchase another tablet. Aunt Wilma had informed her last night that she’d hunted the brush with no results. The only good thing that had happened that day was being held in Jeffery’s arms.
    Beth steeled herself against the memory. She’d vowed not to allow another man access to her heart, and she’d keep that promise, no matter how kind he appeared. Jeffery Tucker might be handsome, virile, and charming, but Beth wasn’t taking any chances this time around. Men couldn’t be trusted.