Read Online Amanda's Beau by Shirley Raye Redmond - Free Book Online
Authors: Shirley Raye Redmond
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Lancaster and his irresponsible son, Gil had decided not to go to church services. Instead, he went fishing. He enjoyed fishing. It was restful. He could think without the usual distractions. When he caught several brown troutâeach weighing about two poundsâhe felt quite pleased with himself.
Once the idea of taking the fish to Amanda Dale popped into his head, he couldnât dispel it. He didnât want to. Gil tried to convince himself it was merely a gesture of Christian charity, but deep down, knew it was more than a kindly gesture. More than anything, he wanted to see Amanda again. Yesterday, heâd felt drawn to her in a way he couldnât explain. For the life of him, he couldnât understand why the woman wasnât already married. She was beautiful and personable. Maybe Amanda had been married and was now a widow like her sister. He dismissed the idea quickly when he recalled Rex first introducing his aunt as Miss Dale.
Sheâd come up from Las Cruces following Randall Stewartâs fatal accident. Gil didnât know much else about her. Maybe she had a beau in Las Cruces â some worthy man waiting with anxious anticipation for her return. This prospect was too dismal to think about for long. He wanted to learn more about Amanda Dale â a lot more. Yesterday, heâd enjoyed listening to her laugh and had admired the way her dark brown eyes sparkled when the students got carried away by tales of long-lost Spanish gold.
Energized by a surge of hopeful expectancy, Gil walked the mile back to the schoolhouse, dropped off his fishing pole and retrieved the copy of Ben-Hur. The day was sunny and brisk. He sang a few hymns and folk songs as he walked, his long-legged strides carrying him quickly from the village to the Stewart place. When he caught sight of Amanda on the front porch, she appeared to be napping in the rocking chair. She probably didnât get many peaceful moments to call her own â not with an invalid sister and a newborn baby to look after.
When she startled awake, Gil felt a stab of regret for having disturbed her solitude. He ceased singing. As he watched Amanda dash into the house, he wondered if the baby had begun crying or if Mrs. Stewart had called out to her? Already feeling like a nuisance, Gil promised himself he would not stay long. After presenting her with the trout and the book, he would be on his way.
"Mr. Gladney, good morning," Amanda greeted him, as she returned to the porch.
Gil noticed sheâd removed her apron. She looked particularly pretty in her red-flowered gingham. Her dark eyes glowed as her full lips curved in a welcoming smile. Yesterday, heâd paid her a light-hearted compliment. But this morning, feeling unexplainably shy, he couldnât bring himself to do so. He got right to the point. "I brought you some brown trout and the book I mentioned yesterday."
"Rex will be happy to have fried fish for Sunday dinner. You must stay too," she urged.
Gil was about to protest when she insisted. "Heâll be so disappointed if you donât." Something in her glowing eyes conveyed a silent message. She wanted him to stay too. He allowed himself to be persuaded. Sheâd taken the book from him and clutched it to her chest as though it was something precious to be securely held on to.
"Let me clean and gut these for you before I come in," Gil offered. Smiling, Amanda nodded and went back inside. She returned with a knife and a platter from the kitchen. Then she told him where to go and asked him to dump the skin and bones on the compost heap near the vegetable garden. The red dog, with broken tail and patchy fur, followed him around to the back and watched him with friendly brown eyes.
"Bonita? Is that your name?" The dog wagged her tail with more enthusiasm. Gil chuckled as he cleaned the fish. Only a boy desperately wanting a dog of his own could have come up with such an unsuitable name for this ragamuffin creature.
Once the idea of taking the fish to Amanda Dale popped into his head, he couldnât dispel it. He didnât want to. Gil tried to convince himself it was merely a gesture of Christian charity, but deep down, knew it was more than a kindly gesture. More than anything, he wanted to see Amanda again. Yesterday, heâd felt drawn to her in a way he couldnât explain. For the life of him, he couldnât understand why the woman wasnât already married. She was beautiful and personable. Maybe Amanda had been married and was now a widow like her sister. He dismissed the idea quickly when he recalled Rex first introducing his aunt as Miss Dale.
Sheâd come up from Las Cruces following Randall Stewartâs fatal accident. Gil didnât know much else about her. Maybe she had a beau in Las Cruces â some worthy man waiting with anxious anticipation for her return. This prospect was too dismal to think about for long. He wanted to learn more about Amanda Dale â a lot more. Yesterday, heâd enjoyed listening to her laugh and had admired the way her dark brown eyes sparkled when the students got carried away by tales of long-lost Spanish gold.
Energized by a surge of hopeful expectancy, Gil walked the mile back to the schoolhouse, dropped off his fishing pole and retrieved the copy of Ben-Hur. The day was sunny and brisk. He sang a few hymns and folk songs as he walked, his long-legged strides carrying him quickly from the village to the Stewart place. When he caught sight of Amanda on the front porch, she appeared to be napping in the rocking chair. She probably didnât get many peaceful moments to call her own â not with an invalid sister and a newborn baby to look after.
When she startled awake, Gil felt a stab of regret for having disturbed her solitude. He ceased singing. As he watched Amanda dash into the house, he wondered if the baby had begun crying or if Mrs. Stewart had called out to her? Already feeling like a nuisance, Gil promised himself he would not stay long. After presenting her with the trout and the book, he would be on his way.
"Mr. Gladney, good morning," Amanda greeted him, as she returned to the porch.
Gil noticed sheâd removed her apron. She looked particularly pretty in her red-flowered gingham. Her dark eyes glowed as her full lips curved in a welcoming smile. Yesterday, heâd paid her a light-hearted compliment. But this morning, feeling unexplainably shy, he couldnât bring himself to do so. He got right to the point. "I brought you some brown trout and the book I mentioned yesterday."
"Rex will be happy to have fried fish for Sunday dinner. You must stay too," she urged.
Gil was about to protest when she insisted. "Heâll be so disappointed if you donât." Something in her glowing eyes conveyed a silent message. She wanted him to stay too. He allowed himself to be persuaded. Sheâd taken the book from him and clutched it to her chest as though it was something precious to be securely held on to.
"Let me clean and gut these for you before I come in," Gil offered. Smiling, Amanda nodded and went back inside. She returned with a knife and a platter from the kitchen. Then she told him where to go and asked him to dump the skin and bones on the compost heap near the vegetable garden. The red dog, with broken tail and patchy fur, followed him around to the back and watched him with friendly brown eyes.
"Bonita? Is that your name?" The dog wagged her tail with more enthusiasm. Gil chuckled as he cleaned the fish. Only a boy desperately wanting a dog of his own could have come up with such an unsuitable name for this ragamuffin creature.
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