Where Wildflowers Bloom: A Novel by Ann Shorey Page B

handsome—what do you think he’s been doing during the years he’s been away?”
    “Since he was in the militia, I assumed he was fighting a war.” Blood pounded in Faith’s ears. “When did he become your business, Nelda?”
    The music stopped, and the other woman’s response sounded loud over the shuffle of dancers moving toward their seats. “He’s not. I just felt—as your friend—”
    Curious glances came their way.
    Faith stood. “I’m sure I’ve taken enough of your time. Your companions must be wondering where you’ve gone.” She turned and walked away, not caring where she went. What difference did it make what Royal had done before they met? She bit her lip.
    All the difference in the world.
    At the entrance, she paused, inhaling the sweet aroma of forsythia from sprays arched around the doorway. As her pulse slowed, Faith acknowledged her foolishness. Twelve days ago Royal hadn’t known who she was. She had no claim on him other than as a dance partner for one evening. Raising her chin, she searched the room and smiled when he strode her way.
    “Are you ready for a waltz?” He placed his hand over hers. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
    Her heart skittered when he drew her to him. “So have I.”
    For a few moments, she lost herself in the intoxicating pleasure of gliding over the floor following Royal’s lead. When she glanced up, his eyes met hers.
    “You’re a quiet one.”
    She chuckled. “Not always. In fact, I was about to ask you what brought you back to Noble Springs. I can’t remember whether you have family here.”
    “My family is in Jefferson City. We’re estranged.”
    The tone of his voice told her not to ask why.
    He pivoted, swinging her around before gliding forward. “As to what I’m doing here, I took my former job at Allen’s Cooperage—not that barrel-making is going to be my life’s work.”
    “What do you see as your life’s work?”
    Instead of answering, he led her through a complicated series of steps that ended with him closing the space between them. His fingers pressed into the small of her back. When the music ended, he held her hand as he escorted her from the dance floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Nelda looking in their direction and whispering to her companion. Faith wondered how much she embellished her story about Royal each time she repeated the tale.
    “I haven’t forgotten my question,” she said as he drew a chair out for her and turned his own so that they faced each other. “What do you see as your life’s work?”
    He threw his shoulders back. “I plan to enlist in the regular Army, at my battlefield rank. A man of my experience will be an asset with the Indian troubles out west.”
    “I’d think you would have had enough of fighting.” She shuddered. “You were blessed to survive.”
    “Enough fighting? Perhaps. But not enough of commanding troops. Beats arching staves for a living. As for survival, it’s a matter of skill and luck. I don’t know about blessed.”
    Faith thought of her father and brother. Was he implying they lacked skill? Or were simply unlucky?
    “You were blessed. In God’s providence, there’s no such thing as luck.”
    “If you say so.” His mouth quirked in a smile. “Let’s dance instead of debating.”

     
    Faith awoke the following morning with waltz music echoing through her thoughts. Her feet ached from dancing all evening. After their disagreement about survival, Royal had kept the conversation light, entertaining her with jokes and stories about his coworkers at the cooperage. Closing her eyes, she pictured him in officer’s dress. If he were successful with his goal, he could leave Noble Springs at any time. But while he was here, she’d enjoy his company.
    “How was your evening with Major Baxter?” Grandpa asked when she put breakfast on the table.
    “Very nice. He’s a splendid dancer.” She decided not to mention Nelda’s gossip.
    “I hope