Page 11 of A Late-Blooming Rose
In spite of her reservations, Rose found her walls melting a bit while reading Andre’s words about the loving bond the two men shared. She hadn’t realized Marty meant as much to Andre as he did to her brother. After all, he’d been the one to leave New York.
Reading some of the stories, a few of them that included her, Rose couldn’t help smiling. Once she laughed out loud about a spectacular feet-up fall Marty took when the three skated on the frozen lake in Central Park. “I’d forgotten that.” Now she remembered the feeling of skating and holding Andre’s hand, starry-eyed with love. She’d thought he’d looked at her the same way.
“What?” Cora’s eyes were curious.
Rose had no intention of enlightening the girl, so she only shook her head and continued reading. When she came to the end, her gaze lingered on Andre’s sprawled signature. Then with a sigh, she folded the letter, tucking the paper into the envelope, along with her memories.
“Mr. Bellaire is such a wonderful man. I wonder why he never married.” Cora slanted a look at Rose. “He certainly would make some lucky lady a fine husband.”
“He’s far too old for you.” The words slipped out before Rose stopped to think about what she’d almost given away.
“Some qualities in a man are ageless,” Cora said, with an artless toss of her head. “Mr. Bellaire is attractive, intelligent, kind, educated, a good friend, and generous. Oh, andrich.”
“Cora!” Rose exclaimed, horrified by the very idea of her with Andre. “Put such thoughts out of your mind!”
Undeterred, Cora held up one finger. “Oh, I forgot. A loving father and grandfather. And he’s fun, too.”
“Cora,” Rose warned, wanting this particular list-making to stop immediately.
“A good sense of humor. Remember his laugh? And that Southern accent. How that man pours on the charm.” Cora grinned. “Such a flirt.”
“Yes, a flirt.” She seized on the term. “Such men aren’t to be trusted. You’ll give them your heart and then find they were only toying with you.” Cora’s widening eyes made Rose realize she’d said too much. “You must keep that in mind,” she added in a lofty tone. “When men come to court you, make sure they aren’t flirtatious.”
Cora held out a hand palm up and pretended to write on her palm. “Boring men only.” She glanced up at Rose, all limpid innocence. “What other qualities am I to look for in a husband?”
A man who won’t break your heart.“Steadfastness,” Rose said immediately. “He must be worthy. Someone you can trust. Must have a good job or other source of reliable income.”
Cora continued ‘writing.’ “What about love?”
“Love, of course.Dependablelove. A man who’s a good companion.”
“A good kisser.” She gave Rose a sly glance.
Rose made a prim face. “You’re not supposed to be kissing men.”
“Then how am I to know if I like kissing him? Imagine being married to someone whose kisses you didn’t like? What if he has bad breath? Or a fish mouth? Ugh! You’re stuck with him.”
Her cheeks heated. The kisses she’d shared with Andre remained burned in her mind.The girl does have a point.Not that Rose intended to say so.
Cora eyed Rose’s blushing face, but thankfully she didn’t comment. “What about handsome?”
Of course.“Handsome is as handsome does,” Rose misquoted in a prim tone. “Appearances can fade. He loses his hair, grows a paunch.”
“Well, then, Mr. Bellaire is a good bet.” Cora lowered her hand. “I already know he didn’t lose his hair or grow a paunch.”
“You haven’t seen him for two years. He could be as fat as a…aballoon.”
Cora giggled and rolled her eyes. “Not Mr. Bellaire.”
“His hair is probably completely white.”
“Probably makes him look distinguished,” Cora retorted, her gray eyes dancing. Then her expression sobered. “Come to Montana with me, Auntie Great. We’llbothmake a new life. Just think of the excitement!”
I’d go with you any place but Montana.
“I doubt a primitive rural town will offer you much in excitement.”
“You did say I’d need a chaperone,” the girl adroitly pointed out. “Surely, you don’t want me to start a new life in the West without your guidance. What if I’m intrigued by a man who flirts? Adistinguishedman who flirts.”
