The Texan's Engagement Agreement

Chris straightened the collar of his traveling suit. He’d dressed nicely in preparation for seeing Adelaide and her family again, but he still felt out of place among what seemed to be Houston’s high society. The curious stares he garnered for having Adelaide on his arm didn’t help. “Adelaide, my father is waiting. Why don’t we find him? He’ll apologize. Then he and I will leave before your mother finds us.”

“Coward.” She caught the attention of one of the servers, then instructed the man to find Olan and bring him to Everett.

“I’m not afraid of your mother,” he said, but she ignored him and left his side to speak with the band. When she returned, he took her hand and tried to guide her toward the house, saying, “I just think my idea would be a more peaceful solution all around.”

She tugged her hand free, escaping to the large wooden platform of a dance floor where she waited with her arms in a closed hold with the air. Chris couldn’t let her stand there looking that ridiculous—even if she deserved it for attempting to manipulate him. He slid into position and pressed his hand against the back of her waist to ease her closer as they waltzed. “I thought you were trying not to cause a scene.”

“No, I was trying to keep my mother from causing a scene.” Her gaze scanned the garden. “I see her, and she looks purely ticked. She’s spotted us.”

He felt his shoulders tense and willed himself to relax. He truly wasn’t afraid of her mother, but this whole situation was making him jumpy. “Where is she?”

“Near the house. No, don’t look. We have to pretend we don’t see her. That way she won’t be able to motion us over to talk to us. She’s approaching the dance floor with Bertrand. She’s stopping.” Adelaide’s met his gaze and smiled. “I told you this would work. We’re safe for now.”

“Speak for yourself. I might as well be dancing with dynamite.”

She laughed. “Why, thank you.”

He shook his head. “How about you tell me why you think all of this is necessary.”

“It’s quite simple, really. I’m tired of fending off my mother’s matchmaking attempts. I’m ready to focus on my work.”

“Your work?”

“Yes. You see—” Her voice faded to a whisper as a blush swept across her cheeks. “I’m a writer. I’ve had several books published.”

He squeezed her hand. “Adelaide, that’s amazing. Congratulations! I’m actually not that surprised. You were always the best writer in our class at school.”

She ducked her head. “Thank you, Chris.”

“What kind of books do you write?”

She shrugged. “They’re just dime novels.”

“Really? That’s pretty much how I learned English after coming to America.”

“I know. You told me dime novels were exciting enough to keep your attention and made you want to learn how to read a new language.”

“Exactly. I always have a stack of them on my nightstand. I even brought one or two along in my suitcase. Hey, I’m in charge of ordering the books for the store. I’d be happy to stock some of yours. Do you write under your real name?”

She gave a short laugh. “Absolutely not. My mother would never have put up with that. Actually, Ellie said Johansen’s already stocks my books. I write under the pseudonym Joe Flanders.”

Chris missed a step, causing Adelaide to stumble into him. “You’re Joe Flanders?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head. “Are you familiar with my books? I mean, have you read any of them?”

Every single one of them. What’s more, his copies were dog-eared and worn out. Joe Flanders was one of his favorite authors. Those Wild West stories were filled with outlaws, gunfights, stampedes and stagecoach robberies. In essence, everything Chris had been disappointed not to experience when he’d moved to Texas from Norway as a child.

And there was one other part of Joe Flanders’s fictionalized worlds that Chris had yet to experience. The hero always got the girl. That had always been Chris’s favorite aspect of the books, even if it was completely unrealistic. He ought to know. He’d been rejected by three women within the last six months. Maybe the fault lay with him. After all, he was no hero. Especially not to “Joe Flanders” if her rejection four years ago was any indication. But she sure seemed to need him now. Perhaps he could be a hero yet, though he knew better than to think he could get—or rather, keep—this girl.

He shot a covert glance toward her mother. How much trouble could it be to pretend to be Adelaide’s beau until he went back to Peppin? Judging by the past few days, a whole lot. Nevertheless, she’d done the same for him once, and he’d used her as an excuse for years, so surely he owed her something in return. He’d actually be doing himself a favor, as well. Olan was expecting Chris to spend time with Adelaide—enough to either get over her or decide to fight for her. If Chris went along with her scheme, it would appear that Chris was doing exactly that. Of course, deceiving his father had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Yet, as far as Chris could see, it was the only way to give Olan what he wanted. It was also the best way to keep a sensible perspective on the situation.

A tap on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts. He released Adelaide and turned in time to see Everett offer them a tight smile.

“Family meeting in the library. Now.” The man turned on his heel, offered his wife his arm and ushered her into the house.

Chris glanced down at Adelaide. “Um, am I family?”

“Apparently. We’d better follow them.” She bit her lip. “Will you...?”

“Play along?” He’d already made his decision, so he nodded. “Absolutely.”

* * *

Adelaide found Chris’s sudden enthusiasm for her idea surprising and extremely suspicious. However, there wasn’t any time to question it.

She wound her way through the curious guests with Chris on her heels and found Olan waiting outside the door of Everett’s library. Olan glanced inside the room where presumably her parents were waiting before he met her gaze with concern. “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here. Before we find out, I’d like to apologize to you. I think I may have said something that hurt your feelings while you were in Peppin.”

“I appreciate the apology, Mr. Johansen. Nevertheless...” She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Perhaps, but—”

She placed a hand on his arm to still his words and smiled. “Truly, it’s all right. We should go inside.”

Chris’s supportive hand on her back gave her the courage she needed to step through the library door. She lifted her chin, prepared for a battle. Everett and Rose stood in front of his large walnut desk, speaking in low tones. Rose caught sight of them first. Adelaide blinked as her mother smiled warmly.

“Well, this is quite a surprise. Olan, it’s so nice to see you again.” She offered her hand to Olan, then nodded to Chris. “And Chris...you’ve certainly grown up, haven’t you? Won’t y’all sit down? I’m afraid we won’t be able to speak for long with so many guests here, but Everett says you will be here for several days. Is that right?”

That was news to Adelaide. She glanced at Chris for confirmation of that while they settled side by side on the library’s settee. He was too busy watching her mother with a mixture of curiosity and confusion to notice. Adelaide couldn’t blame him. Her mother’s warm greeting to the Johansens had taken Adelaide off guard a bit, too.

Olan nodded, claiming a seat in one of the leather chairs Rose had indicated. “I’ll only be here a couple of days. After that, I’ve got to get back to my store. Chris is going to stay for a while longer.”

“I hope you get to see some of Houston before you leave, Olan. It truly is a lovely city.” Rose clasped her hands in front of her and turned Adelaide. “Now, Adelaide, my dear, Bertrand Milney told me the strangest thing a few minutes ago. He said that he caught you having a liaison with a man fitting Chris’s description, a man you claimed as your beau. Of course, I told him that he must be mistaken. Please, tell me that he is.”

Adelaide stared into Rose’s piercing gray eyes and felt her resolve begin to waver. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonize her mother. Yet why should choosing her own beau be upsetting to Rose? True, her mother had never trusted Chris—for good reason it turned out. Yet, wasn’t that the point? Adelaide had to do something drastic if she wanted any chance at gaining her mother’s approval of her writing. That was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

Chris’s hand covered hers, steadying her topsy-turvy thoughts. She met his gaze. He gave her a supportive nod. Her mouth opened, but the words she wanted to say wouldn’t come. He transferred her hand to his other and put his free arm along the back of the settee. “Adelaide and I reconnected when she visited Peppin.”

That much was true, so Adelaide nodded. “Yes, we did.”

“When my father decided to visit Houston, I knew I had to see her again, so here I am.” Chris had already informed her he was here to do his father’s bidding by arranging the opportunity for Olan to apologize. However, his tone was so earnest that even she almost believed he had romantic feelings for her. It was a bit unnerving to know he was so good at affecting emotions he didn’t feel. How many times had her birth father done that very thing? Usually, it involved Hiram pretending to be sorry for something, only to go out and do that exact same thing again.

Adelaide pulled her hand from Chris’s and placed it in her lap. “If that’s all, Mother, we really should get back to the party.”

Olan leaned forward. “Actually, I have a question. It’s been bothering me for years. Rose, what have you got against my son? Why don’t you approve of him? He’s a good man, responsible, kind. He makes an honest living. What more could you want for your daughter?”

“Pa,” Chris chided, tensing beside her.

Olan frowned. “What? You’ve got a right to know.”