Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [69]
“And you thought to do in whoever it was with a broom?”
“I didn’t have anything else.”
Rolling his eyes, he snatched the broom from her hand and tossed it to the ground. “Go to bed, Georgie. I’ll do this.”
“No, no. I need to come.” She rubbed an eye with her fist, looking like the child she’d dressed to be.
“I mean it.” He turned her toward the door. “Go on.”
She locked her knees. “I’m going with you, Luke.”
His eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, but even still he squinted. “Are you wearing a nightcap?”
Straightening the stocking on her head, she circled round him, then climbed up into the float. She might think she wore a clever disguise, but no boy he’d ever seen moved like that. He slammed his eyes shut. The woman was crazy as popcorn on a hot skillet.
Drawing on the calm he was known for, he joined her on the float, released the brake, and slapped the reins.
“Watch out for my dewberries,” she said.
He was tempted to run them over as punishment for her stubbornness, but refrained. Shifting, he tried to find some elbow room. The basket phaeton was cozy in the best of times, but the decorations along the seat’s sides forced the two of them even closer.
The carriage hit a rut, jostling them from side to side. Without the normal layers of skirts and petticoats between them, he found himself very aware of the feminine leg plastered against his.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
She tugged on her stocking cap. “You told me to wear black.”
“You have black skirts.”
“Well, I couldn’t very well wear those. If someone were to see us riding out at this time of night to the place sparking couples go when they don’t want to be discovered, why, my reputation would be ruined.”
Yanking the carriage to a halt, he looked at her aghast. “Langkwitz’s place is Lovers’ Walk?” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t learned of it earlier. What was the matter with him?
“So?”
“You chose to hide the float in the one place sure to have nighttime visitors.”
He couldn’t see her expression, but he felt her bristle.
“Not tonight, it won’t be.” Her voice held a defensive edge. “Not only is it way too late for sparking, our young men are spending tonight chopping down birch trees, decorating them with streamers, and delivering them to their sweethearts.”
The Mai tree tradition. He’d forgotten about that. Still, there were always exceptions. “We can’t take it there.”
“There’s nowhere else.”
Removing his hat, he dragged a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.” An unsettling thought occurred to him. “How do you know it’s Lovers’ Walk?”
She flipped the pom-pom on the end of her stocking as if it were a swath of hair. “I’m the telephone operator, Luke. I’m privy to all sorts of things.”
“No one’s ever taken you there?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how did you know what the place looked like when I described it to you?”
She folded her hands in her lap, prim as a Sunday school teacher. “I’ve done some birding over there.”
He couldn’t decide if she was telling the truth or not, but even if she weren’t, it wasn’t his business. Still, he didn’t like the idea of it one iota.
Slamming his hat back on, he shook the reins. “We’d best get a move on, then. If a bunch of fellows are combing the area for trees, I need to get this blame thing hidden and return you home. If you’re seen in that getup, there’ll be the devil to pay.”
“If I’m seen in this ‘getup,’ no one will recognize me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. So, if we run across anyone, you pull that cap down and let me do the talking.”
But luck was with them, and they made it to Langkwitz’s without mishap. He checked the likely spots couples would go for privacy, but none were occupied. Pulling the float behind the house, the two of them unhitched Honey Dew and carefully stored her harnesses in the boot box of the carriage.
“That’s it. Let’s move.” He cupped his hands together and made a stirrup, Honey Dew’s hide smelling like a warm barn. “You