Read Online Harlequin Historical November 2015, Box Set 2 of 2 by Lynna Banning - Free Book Online

porch swing in the soft evening air, sweet with honeysuckle. Then, to his horror, Winifred joined him.
    They said nothing for a long time, then she drew in a steadying breath and lightly touched his arm.
    â€œI must leave, Zane.”
    â€œI thought as much.”
    â€œI have a concert in two weeks, and I must prepare.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’ve grown to love Rosemarie. I would like to come back at Christmastime. If I may.”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œI will go tomorrow, then. The train leaves at noon.”
    He said nothing for a long moment. “I’ll drive you to the station in the buggy.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œWe will miss you. All of us—Rosemarie and Sam and...and me.”
    There was nothing more to say. He felt as if a candle were being extinguished. It made no sense.
    He rose abruptly, stalked inside the house and tramped upstairs to hold his baby daughter in his arms.
    Winifred waited until his footsteps faded, then slipped through the front door and into his office and searched until she found the brandy decanter.
    * * *
    At eleven o’clock the following searingly hot morning, Zane drove Winifred to catch the train. Neither spoke. At the station he helped her down and carried her valise into the station house while she purchased her ticket.
    He watched her fold the ticket into her reticule and felt his gut clench. He was torn about her leaving. He would miss seeing her across the table at breakfast, miss watching her rocking his baby daughter to sleep, watching her thrash across the swimming hole learning to swim.
    Oh, hell, he’d just miss her.
    Yes, he was still grieving for Celeste. Yes, he was lonely. He’d thought he was so numb with grief he was dead inside.
    But he’d miss Winifred.
    On the other hand, he couldn’t be around her. Shouldn’t be around her. He was glad she was leaving.
    The train was late and every minute they waited was awkward. Zane walked the length of the platform, stopped where Winifred stood waiting, her valise beside her, then walked another length. When he returned to her side she did not look at him.
    Finally he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Winifred?”
    She looked up at his voice. “Yes, Zane?”
    â€œI’m glad you came. I dreaded it. Dreaded meeting you, at first, but...”
    â€œBut you’re glad I am leaving.” She gave him a wobbly smile.
    â€œYes. And no.”
    She held up her hand. “Don’t explain. Please don’t.”
    He nodded. He couldn’t explain even if he wanted to.
    Suddenly she pivoted away from him. “There’s the train. I hear the whistle.” She moved toward the tracks. He grabbed up her valise and followed.
    The locomotive engine whooshed past, slowing to position the passenger car in front of the loading platform. Winifred kept her back to him until she reached the iron boarding step, then turned to face him. With one hand she reached for the valise he carried, and with the other she reached for him.
    He enveloped her hand in both of his, opened his mouth to say goodbye and found he had no voice.
    She smiled at him again. “You don’t have to say anything, Zane.”
    He cleared his throat. “Come back,” he said.
    She pressed her lips together and inclined her head. Tears shone in her eyes.
    September 20th
    Dear Zane,
    My concert on the seventeenth went well—actually better than I expected. I didn’t have a speck of stage fright, as I usually do. Cissy never had qualms about performing; I was always the one with shaking hands and a fluttery heart. I played some of her favorites—Brahms waltzes and a Beethoven sonata or two. No Chopin.
    My teaching load at the conservatory will increase with the new term beginning in January. I have plenty of students already—more than the other professors—and one or two intermediates show considerable promise. Often I look at them and wonder