The Texan's Engagement Agreement

Chapter Three (#ulink_a55ff19e-d994-55d4-bd88-25377a1f37ec)

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Chris stared at the front door of his parents’ house, unwilling to pull the doorbell and begin this evening’s charade. It was one thing to pretend the woman he’d asked to marry him had never ended their engagement. It was another thing entirely to parade a lie before his parents’ faces. He wanted to turn around, go back to his apartment above the mercantile and forget any of this had ever happened.

“Steady.” The low whisper from Adelaide’s stepfather meant the man understood Chris’s struggle. Adelaide must have told him the truth. Now the only people in the dark were Chris’s parents and younger brothers. He rolled his shoulders as though that might free him from the ever-growing burden of guilt resting there. It didn’t.

He pulled in a deep breath, then rang the doorbell. A few moments later, Chris’s mother opened the door and immediately enveloped Adelaide into a hug. “You’ve finally come, and you’re staying for supper. What a wonderful surprise! You’re so grown-up and even more lovely than before. Wouldn’t you agree, Chris?”

His gaze skimmed from the fancy chignon of her auburn hair to her lacy cream blouse and dark blue skirt before he managed to catch himself. “She’s always been beautiful.”

Adelaide’s lashes lowered demurely as a hint of a blush appeared on her cheek. “Thank you, both. It’s lovely to see you, too. Marta Johansen, I’d like you to meet my stepfather, Everett Holden.”

After their parents exchanged pleasantries, Chris glanced down the main hall in search of his siblings. Usually the boys came rushing to greet him as soon as he stepped inside the door. “Where is everyone, Ma?”

“They’re waiting in the parlor.”

He headed toward the double doors across the hall. “Why are the doors closed?”

“Just a moment.” His mother rushed around him to stand in front of the doors. “Adelaide, would you come and stand beside Chris? Thank you. Now, Mr. Holden, I’ll need help with the other door. Slide it to the left on the count of three.”

Chris frowned. “Ma—”

“One.”

“What is—”

“Two.”

“—going on?”

“Three!”

The doors slid away. The rich, unmistakable strains of “The Wedding March” crashed over them. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. The parlor had been decked out with all manner of decorations. The largest and most prominent was the banner above the fireplace that read “Congratulations!” in Hans’s big, slightly uneven letters. The little boy’s grin was so big that he kept missing the notes on his flute. Next to him, Viktor played his cello while offering them a much shyer smile. August winked at Chris as he dramatically swayed in time with the mellow tones of his viola. Sophia caught his eye as she ran her fingers across the string of her harp while mouthing two words. “I’m sorry.”

As usual, his father served as conductor for the quartet and soon brought the music to an end. Everyone looked at Chris with such pride and expectation. He had no idea how to respond. Adelaide saved him from having to figure it out by clapping for the ensemble. “That was absolutely beautiful! What a wonderful welcome. I can’t believe how much all of y’all have grown.”

His brothers rushed forward to greet her. Viktor and August remembered her well. Hans was eager to meet her again. Sophia’s greeting was a bit less enthusiastic. She alone knew just how much Chris had been hurt by Adelaide’s rejection. As their brothers continued to monopolize Adelaide’s attention, Sophia sidled over to Chris. She gave him a congratulatory hug that was really just an excuse for her to whisper, “I’ve been praying for you since I heard. I would have come over to see you, but Ma kept me busy preparing all of this.”

“It’s all right. I—” The doorbell interrupted him. Marta rushed to answer it. Chris turned to his father for explanation. “Is someone else joining us for dinner?”

“Yes, indeed.”

The satisfaction in Olan’s tone put Chris on alert. “Pa, you know I don’t like surprises.”

His father simply clasped him on the shoulder without saying a word. Chris stiffened as their guest walked in. Pastor Brightly took one look at the parlor and grinned. Tucking the book he carried beneath his arm, the man rubbed his palms together. “All right, then. Who’s ready for a wedding?”

His brothers cheered. Chris shook his head to clear it. Surely—surely this was a nightmare he would awaken from at any second. Adelaide’s gaze connected with his from across the room and the panic in her eyes was undeniably real. They’d been ambushed. There was no way out but the truth.

Adelaide didn’t quite seem to understand that. She sounded genuinely troubled as she said, “Oh, but I couldn’t possibly get married without my mother present.”

“I agree,” Mr. Holden said, looking decidedly unamused by the turn of events.

Sophia took Hans’s hand and shooed the other boys toward the kitchen. “Let’s all go check on the cake, boys. Perhaps it’s cool enough to frost.”

Once Chris’s siblings left, Pastor Brightly searched the faces of everyone left in the room. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes, there is a problem.” Finally finding his voice, Chris crossed the room to stand beside Adelaide, then addressed his parents. “Y’all cannot possibly expect us to agree to a wedding with absolutely no warning.”

Olan gave a tired sigh. “One would think that a five-year engagement is warning enough.”

Marta went to place a comforting hand on her husband’s back. “Adelaide and Mr. Holden, I understand your objections to having the wedding without Rose present, but you can always have another ceremony later. You also must remember that Rose has not approved of Chris for the past five years. I see little reason to hope that she will change her mind about my son unless she has the opportunity to get to know him as her son-in-law.”

“I agree with my wife. I would also like to point out that if a young lady truly loved my son no one would be able to persuade her not to marry him.”

If Chris hadn’t already been watching Adelaide, he would have missed the hurt that flared in her eyes before her lashes lowered to cover them. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her high emotions. “And you, Pa? What do you have to say about all of this?”

“Adelaide, you are old enough to know your own mind. It’s your decision to make—yours and Chris’s.”

That was not the response that Chris had expected from the man. Yet, Chris realized, it was the only one he could have given that would truly allow Adelaide the freedom to choose. If Everett had outright forbidden Adelaide to marry Chris and she’d capitulated, she would have appeared weak. This, at least, would allow her some strength and dignity in her inevitable refusal.

Chris also realized that she would leave as soon as she articulated that refusal. He’d have no reason to see her again. She’d been ripped from him before without a goodbye. For some reason, he couldn’t let that happen again. He touched her arm. “Come on, Adelaide. Let’s talk about this outside.”

A fierce March wind met them at the door. Not wanting to take a chance at being overheard, he kept walking until he reached the gate, then turned to face her. “I’m so sorry, Adelaide. If I’d had any idea that my parents would spring this on us, I would have done everything I could to prevent it.”

The wind teased at her hair and skirt as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I know.”

“You don’t have to go back in there. I’ll break the news myself.”

She nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Please tell your siblings I said goodbye. It was nice to see them again.”

She couldn’t seem to look at him. He wasn’t sure how or why, but what his father had said must have struck a nerve with her. Chris didn’t know how he felt. Anger had deserted him—at least for the moment. The only emotion he was left with was one he couldn’t seem to name. Whatever it was, it begged him to pull her into his arms. He shook the errant thought from his head. “Goodbye, Adelaide. Thank you for trying to help me.”

“Goodbye, Chris.”

He left her at the gate, announced to his family that there would be no wedding, now or ever, and said goodbye to Everett. Pastor Brightly left soon after. Chris removed himself to one of the chairs on the porch, feeling tired and bruised.

The sound of the front door opening interrupted his swirling, unmanageable thoughts. He glanced up as his father took the chair beside him. Jaw clenching, Chris shook his head. “You hurt her feelings.”

“I did?” His father frowned and cast a concerned glance down the street in the direction Adelaide and Everett had walked. “That wasn’t my intention. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d let it go this far.”

A beat of silence passed. Chris looked at his father. Olan’s mouth slowly curved upward on one side. Chris straightened in his chair. “You knew.”

Olan lifted an eyebrow and gave a single nod.

Chris’s mouth fell open. “How long have you known?”

“Chris, you are my son. Do you really think I didn’t see your hurt and anger the past few years? There’s also the matter of you flirting with your sister’s friends. The man I raised would never do that while betrothed to someone else.”