Yours Truly

Six

SIX

Peter didn't want to frighten her, which was why he climbed out when he had. She was just too adorable the way she looked at him, and he just couldn't be around her like this without losing his mind. However, he'd have to try. He still wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. Was he acting this way just because he was lonely? He hoped not. He never tolerated desperate people.

He helped her down from the buggy, holding her hand a little longer than he should have. But she acted like she was afraid to touch him. Obviously, she had noticed something was different about the way he treated her. Now the fear was on him because he didn't know what would happen if he discovered she wasn't interested in him.

He offered his elbow again, and she hesitated before taking it. But for now, they were just going to stroll through the park to look for things that might make a great heading for the Lovelorn's column.

"Have you talked with Henry lately?"

"Who?" Her attention snapped up to his face. Confusion was on her expression.

"Henry Peck, the man who lied to you and broke your heart."

Chuckling, she rolled her eyes. "I cannot believe I have put him and my injured heart out of my mind." She shrugged. "I blame it on the excitement about the article."

"You haven't told him that you saw him holding that other woman?"

"No." She turned and looked ahead of them. "And because he hasn't tried to contact me, that tells me that he doesn't care about me, either."

"I'm sorry he hurt you."

Her steps halted and she looked up at his face again. "You are?"

"Yes. I saw your tears, remember?"

She nodded. "I think what originally hurt me was that he'd lied to me. Then I just felt sad because once again, I was without a beau."

"You seem to be all right with it now."

"I suppose." She sighed. "Thank you for being there when I needed someone to talk to."

He patted her hand that still rested on the crook of his arm. "Anytime. It made me feel good to know that you had wanted to talk to me."

She smiled. "Only because you were a man."

"Really? That was the only reason?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Well, I just couldn't understand him – or lying men in general – and so, I knew I'd needed another man to ask my questions to."

"It doesn't matter." He gently squeezed her hand. "I'm happy to have helped."

They resumed their walk. The sky was so blue, reminding him of her pretty eyes. There was a slight wind that teased her hair on her forehead. As he studied her, she appeared to relax the longer she looked around the park. He was relieved that she enjoyed the outdoors instead of being in that stuffy building all day.

"How about the flowers?" She pointed to a patch of Marigolds. "Do you think that will look lovely for the heading?"

"Yes, I'm sure it will... if the writer is a woman." Her gaze swung and met him. "But if the writer is a man, I'm sure he won't like flowers at all."

"Yes, I suppose I didn't think of it that way."

"Which is probably why your father suggested I come with you."

"Yes. Father does know what is best for the newspaper." She turned back toward the path they were heading. "What suggestion do you have?"

"Over here," he turned them down another walkway, "is a pond with ducks. I thought about taking a picture of that. What do you think?"