Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02] by The Quarryman's Bride

faring?” he asked.
    “Poorly,” she admitted. “She was a bit better, but then had a . . . well, a disappointment.”
    “What kind of disappointment?”
    Emmalyne looked over to find him watching her quite intently. “There came a post from Scotland. Her sister wrote to invite us to visit. Mother thought it would be a wonderful trip to make, but my father was against it.”
    “But why? Such a trip might very well make a great change in her physical and emotional health.”
    “I know. But for Father, the money is of more import. He worries constantly about the cost of everything. In fact, if he knew you were here today, he would no doubt send you packing. Money for doctors and such is only to be spared in emergencies. He’s done nothing but grumble about Mother’s condition; that she’s not getting better causes constant strife.”
    “Then I won’t charge for the visit,” Dr. Williams said with a shrug. “Your father surely can’t protest that.”
    “One would like to think not,” Emmalyne said in a barely audible voice, “but you do not know my father.”
    The doctor nodded and rubbed his chin. “Nevertheless, I feel it’s my responsibility to check on the ailing and injured. Your mother is suffering, and I won’t leave her unattended.”
    “That’s most kind of you. I must say, I appreciate your concern, even if Father does not.”
    “That’s quite all right.” He grinned. “It gives me a chance to know you better.”
    Emmalyne didn’t know how to reply to that. She had no desire to explain the details of her family’s traditions and why getting to know her better would be a waste of Dr. Williams’s time . . . unless he was simply looking for a friend.
    Without another word, she went to the stove and checked the coffee. Finding it warm enough to serve, she poured the doctor a cup and handed it to him. “Would you like cream or sugar?”
    “No, black is fine.”
    She went to where she had left a covered tray and lifted the towel. “Would you care for a scone? I made them just this morning.”
    He gave her a look of pure delight. Emmalyne turned her attention back to the tray. “They’re cinnamon and nutmeg. I can put one on a plate for you and bring you some butter.”
    “That would be wonderful. You are an extremely talented woman, Miss Knox.”
    She tried to ignore this further compliment and placed a scone in front of him. Next she dished up a portion of the new butter and put that on the table beside the scone. Smiling, she turned back to her task. “I have to get the rest of this butter into the molds, so I hope you won’t mind if I keep working while we talk.”
    “Not at all. I rather like watching you work. You’re quite graceful in all you do—why, you made falling from the chair look almost elegant.”
    Emmalyne had to laugh. “Hardly. It was by far and away one of my less graceful moments, and I would hope you might forget about it.”
    “I can’t—not that I want to.” His voice had turned husky, and Emmalyne couldn’t help but look his way. She could see something akin to yearning in Dr. Williams’s expression. She’d seen that same look in Tavin’s eyes long ago.
    Emmalyne quickly changed the subject. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good hostess. I didn’t even provide you with a knife.” She hurried over to the counter. “As I was saying earlier,” she continued, handing him a knife, “Mother did seem to benefit from your suggestion of getting outdoors more. I set up a place for her down by the stream and another on the porch. She had enjoyed both locations prior to getting her sister’s letter. Now I’m afraid she’s taken to her room again.”
    “No doubt even small disappointments appear as major hurdles to overcome,” the doctor said quietly. “Her spirit seems almost broken.”
    “I agree.” Emmalyne pressed the butter into molds. So long as she could keep her hands busy and her attentionon something other than the handsome doctor, she