Lone Star Courtship by Mae Nunn Page A

tourist?”
    â€œNot as long as you’re trapped with me.”
    â€œI can’t think of a nicer place to be.” And he meant it from the depths of his soul.

    The private dining area on the top deck was well appointed for very special occasions. However, the fresh flowers, white linen service, attentive staff and sumptuous meal were secondary to his extraordinary companion. After two hours of being regaled by stories of the Hardy clan, Barrett was certain his destiny was somehow tied to this place. This woman. The question was whether that certainty was good or bad. It could be either in equal measure.
    He put a huge spoonful of sweet potato pie into his mouth.
    â€œHeavenly choice,” he mumbled over the spicy dessert served with a generous dollop of heavy cream.
    â€œI figured you could have cheesecake back home.”
    â€œVery true. All your choices were spot-on.” He hardly knew how to pronounce things called jambalaya and étouffée, let alone whether they would appeal to his palate. So, he’d asked her to make the selections once they’d been presented with menus.
    She waited while the waiter presented their after-dinner coffee. When they were once again alone she pulled out the chair next to her and began to shift his cup and saucer to the unoccupied place at her side. Since it seemed she expected him to change seats, he made the move without question. As soon as he was settled the reason for her actions was obvious.
    â€œAhhhhhhh…” he breathed.
    â€œI thought you’d want to see that.”
    A spectacular sunset was about to take place. An orange glow blazed on the horizon with fingers of fire shooting into the deep blue of the darkening sky.
    â€œTo me, the only vision more incredible is daybreak,” she shared. “I believe the message of the sunrise is the promise of a new beginning with new mercy.”
    â€œMind if I take a note?” He withdrew a pen and copied her words on a cocktail napkin while she looked on.
    â€œYou flatter me, sir.”
    â€œI’m pleased that’s the by-product, though it’s not my intent. I couldn’t help noticing the snippets you’ve posted in your office. I, too, love to capture the unique turn of a phrase. Most of my notes come from the least expected places and uncommon speakers, though I have plenty of Shakespeare and Churchill in my journals.”
    â€œSo you’ve actually created books for yourself?”
    â€œOver the years.”
    â€œI’m not nearly so organized. I jot interesting phrases on Post-its and display them on mirrors and whiteboards. Then if I relocate, I stick them in the pages of a spiral notebook. When I get to the new place, I slap the ones that pertain to my situation on the wall for wisdom and encouragement.”
    â€œContemplation and meditation. Your moments of Zen.”
    â€œYou remembered.” The quality of her voice, the awe in her words, was a reward.
    â€œI wrote it down.”
    â€œSo I’ve joined the ranks of great poets and world leaders?”
    â€œIn my book, yes.” He wanted to add that she also topped his short list of amazing ladies, blessed with beauty and ability. But it was too soon to pay such compliments. Wasn’t it?
    She opened her small handbag, fished out a folded newspaper clipping and smoothed it before him on the table.
    â€œHere’s something funny for your book.” The glint in her eyes told him he was in for a laugh at his own expense.
    He read the cartoon out loud. “‘And God said, “Let there be Satan, so people don’t blame everything on me. And let there be lawyers, so people don’t blame everything on Satan.”’ Quite amusing.”
    â€œI thought so when I clipped it out of the paper this morning.”
    â€œWell, just to show you I can take a joke, here’s one for you. What do you call a smiling, courteous person at a Bar Association