Foxfire Light

Foxfire Light by Janet Dailey Page B

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Authors: Janet Dailey
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the door, she crossed the room to admit their guests. She pushed open the screen door and smiled warmly.
    â€œCome in. I see Linc managed to get you here safely,” she said addressing her comments to Rachel and ignoring Linc—on the surface. An inner radar was completely sensitive to his presence. “Was the traffic very heavy?”
    â€œNo.” Even as the widow entered the cabin, her gaze was racing past Joanna.
    A hint of pink appeared in the woman’s cheeks, almost a match to the pale pink dress she was wearing. Joanna stole a look over her shoulder, already guessing the cause for the widow’s faint blush.
    Reece was standing near the center of the living room, waiting to greet their guests. Joannawished he would smile and get rid of that proudly courteous look.
    â€œHello, Reece,” Rachel greeted him in a stilted fashion.
    â€œGood evening, Rachel,” he responded in a like manner.
    They both sounded so formal that Joanna wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d made a stiff and courtly bow over the widow’s hand. Her mouth tightened.
    â€œI think it’s going to be cool tonight,” Linc murmured as he paused beside her.
    She flashed him a glance that said she knew exactly what he meant. Although when his hand moved to the hollow of her back to guide her into the room with the others, she felt anything but cool. She shifted away from his touch at the first opportunity.
    â€œMake yourselves comfortable,” she urged and excused herself. “I have to check on dinner. Why don’t you offer them a drink, Reece?”
    â€œWhat would you like?” her uncle inquired of his guests while Joanna retreated to the kitchen and left them to break the ice—literally. “A glass of sherry? Wine?”
    â€œA glass of sherry, please,” Rachel requested because she’d read in books that’s what real ladies ordered.
    â€œI’ll have a beer,” Linc said.
    A liquor tray was sitting on one of the tables, complete with decanters, glasses, and an ice bucket. But it included no beer, which Linc had already noted.
    â€œFix Rachel’s drink. I know where the beer is kept.” He crossed to the kitchen archway, leaving the two of them alone in the room.
    After pouring the glass of sherry, Reece handed it to Rachel. His dark gaze probed her expression, but it was locked against him—as it always was.
    â€œYou have turned down all of my invitations to dinner. My niece must be more persuasive than I am,” he murmured.
    What could she say? That she had been wrong to accept this one? That would have been too rude. “She is a very lovely girl,” Rachel said as if that explained it and sipped at the sherry.
    Its dryness seemed to cake her tongue, leaving a strong after-taste. It had been a mistake to order it. She should have asked for something she knew she would like instead of attempting to impress Reece. She watched him splash whiskey into a tumbler of ice cubes and wished she could trade with him.
    â€œPlease sit down.” He gestured toward the seat cushion of the sofa while he chose the armchair on its left. There was an aura of worldly authority about him that seemed so natural.
    Rachel tried to emulate his aloof composure as she sank gracefully—or so she hoped—onto the couch. She couldn’t help noticing how well the silk shirt fit the cut of his shoulders. He was so trim and manly that she couldn’t look at him without feeling that wild fluttering in her stomach.
    She had never believed such men truly existed, which was why she couldn’t believe someone like Reece was really interested in her. For all intents and purposes, she had never been out of the Ozarks in her life except for that one trip to Chicago twenty years ago.
    She took another sip of the sherry and almost couldn’t swallow it. She tried to be very casual when she set the glass on the coffee table.
    â€œIs the sherry too

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