Read Online Saratoga Sunrise by Christine Wenger - Free Book Online

accident that left her maimed. And while he was at it, he cursed himself because he was going to use her to his own advantage.
    Bending down, he couldn't stop himself from gathering her into his arms and kiss her ever so gently, fearing she would bolt from him like a skittish colt. But she didn't bolt. Instead, she stiffened, then relaxed. Hesitantly, she kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with more passion. He could feel her heart flutter against his, like a butterfly in the field surrounding them.
    What am I doing? He broke the kiss and pulled away, remembering that she was the daughter of his enemy–the man who destroyed his family. He was going to use her, that was certainly true, but not use her like this. Not like this.
    "I shouldn't have done that," he said. "I apologize."
    Her face flushed pink, and Jack wondered if she did so because of passion or embarrassment for enjoying his kiss. Even though he had just chastised himself, he couldn't help but hope that it was both.
    "That's correct, Mr. Summers, you shouldn't have done that. I am an engaged woman," she said without much conviction in her voice. She held her chin high and squared her shoulders.
    “Ah. . . yes. Engaged to the charming Mr. Fordice.” He snickered. "I guess you must have also forgotten that small matter when you kissed me back, Miss Peterson."
    "Humpf."
    He laughed, and she joined in after a while. Confident that the light mood between them was restored, he picked up the basket and held his arm out. "Let me show you that spring. It'll make your leg feel better."
    "Mr. Summers, you can't actually believe I will bare my leg while you are present. Why that's positively indecent!"
    He heard a faint thread of hysteria in her voice. "I'll turn my head, of course."
    "Oh, of course," she said quietly.
    # # #
    Bea almost dropped her parasol in shock. "Clara, I thought you were with Sara at the track!"
    The young girl looked at her in astonishment, her feather duster halting in mid-air. "What?"
    "Have you seen Sara today?"
    "No, I haven't, although I've been dusting the lobby most of the day."
    Bea wrung her hands. "Oh dear."
    Clara let the feather duster drop to her side. Her eyes were round with concern. "Is something wrong, Miss Bishop? Is Sara all right?"
    "I'm sure she's fine. Her father wanted someone to accompany her to the track, that's all. I'm sure Johnson is with her."
    Clara shook her head. "I saw Johnson drive into the carriage house a while back, as I was cleaning the windows."
    "Then Sara is alone." Beatrix shook her head. "Why that little scamp!"
    "What has Sara done?"
    "I'm afraid she's embarked on an adventure that could ruin her reputation or incur her father's wrath if she's found out. Possibly both." In spite of the circumstances, she smiled.
    Clara was clearly puzzled. "You don't seem upset, Miss Bishop."
    "For some reason, I trust the man she's with more than
    I trust that idiotic windbag she's suppose to marry."
    "Then you think that she's with Jack Summers, the groom?"
    Bea nodded.
    "She told me about him last night. I think Sara's likes him very much."
    "I do, too." An idea flashed in Bea's mind. "Clara, how about if I tell Mr. Tompkins that I need you for a while to help us unpack? Instead, you hurry to the carriage house and have Johnson ready to take us to the stables. I'll be right behind you. We have to get Sara before her father finds out."
    "Yes, Miss Bishop."
    Bea smiled warmly. "You used to call me Aunt Trixie."
    Clara fussed with the handle of the duster and looked down. "I didn't know if you still wanted me to do that. I'm just a maid still and–"
    Bea held a hand up to silence her. "You know I don't believe in all that silliness. A friend is a friend. A good person is a good person no matter what their income is or their social standing. That's why I like coming to the Springs. All that meddlesome class system is somewhat forgotten."
    Bea took Clara's hand. "You've been a dear friend to Sara for many, many