Meg’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Do you think it would have helped?”
“Well, no, I guess not.”
“I don’t either. It was going to be a long, long road to get him to agree with that. And while I don’t exactly want Sam to know yet, I had been interested in him anyway. He’s the one I was trying to talk to you about. So when all this came up, my agreeing to be his bride seemed like the fastest, simplest way to…well, to get Papa to see that it’s only a matter of time before I was married. Before we all were married. If I’d waited for him to agree, I’d have been an old maid before—”
“I know, I know. I do understand, and Clara does, too.”
“Thank you, Hank. I really did…do…want this. Papa will come around and Sam will, too, and we’ll live happily ever after. You’ll see.”
“Meg, I have to say you’ve always been determined to get what you want. I sure hope this time isn’t an exception.”
“It won’t be, I’m sure of it.”
Hank patted his sister’s knee and stood. “And who knows? You might be the next one with twins.”
The blood drained from Meg’s face as she contemplated what Hank had said and Sam returned from the house.
“Did he say something about twins?” Sam set down the tray of lemonade as Hank walked over unhitched the buggy. “I think so,” Meg mumbled, suddenly aware of all the things she hadn’t thought through with her new plan.
Chapter 13
Sam and Meg waved goodbye as Hank guided the buggy toward Archer Ranch. As they turned to go back inside, Sam touched her elbow, guiding her up the stairs of the porch, and she shivered as tingles swept through her.
“Are you cold?” Sam asked, a concerned frown appearing.
“Oh, no, not at all,” Meg replied. Even though it was beginning to get dark and a bit chilly in the crisp, late summer air, she was surprised at how warm she was—especially since Sam had touched her elbow.
As she entered the house, Sam picked up the bags Hank had delivered and Meg held the door open wide for him.
“I’ll just take these right on up to your room,” Sam said as he started upstairs. Meg wasn’t sure if she should follow him or not, as she hadn’t had a tour of the house yet and still felt a little like she was trespassing.
She turned to go into the parlor and stopped just inside as she noticed a big, white sheet covering something that appeared to be a very large piece of furniture.
Glancing around the room, she didn’t see any other pieces of furniture covered and, intrigued, she peeked around the corner to make sure Sam was still upstairs as she slowly lifted the sheet on one corner of whatever it was.
As she pulled back the fabric a little further, past the rich mahogany at the base of the piece, she gasped in surprise and her hand flew to her mouth. The flicker of the lantern was reflected in a row of ivory—a piano!
Meg quickly dropped the sheet as if it had burned her and tucked it under the foot of the piano, as close to the way she’d found it as she could remember.
A piano! She did remember Sam saying that he could read music, and now she knew why. She had grown up with music, her mother an accomplished pianist, and she and her sisters had sung to her mother’s accompaniment almost up until she died. On the very last night before she passed, the girls had gathered around her in her room, and sang Amazing Grace a capella for the first time as Katie was unable to play the piano any longer, and it was a moment she’d never forget. Music was part of her soul, and her gift, she knew.
Why would he have the piano covered up? He’d asked in his advertisement for someone with musical knowledge or interest. If he loved music as she did, it was just one more check on the list of things she loved about him.
“All right, you ready to get started?” Meg turned to the staircase as Sam came downstairs and walked into the parlor. He sat opposite the settee where she was sitting, and even though she was on a mission, she wished he had chosen to sit beside her. Someday.
“Get started? Oh, getting to know each other,” he said. He crossed his legs, his ankle on his knee as he sat back in his chair and smiled.
“Well, yes. We have to do this systematically.” Meg handed Sam a blank piece of paper and quill that she’d retrieved from the small desk in the parlor while he was upstairs. “I hope you don’t mind. We need paper.”
“What do you have in mind,” he asked, his brow raised as he looked at her.
“I thought it might be helpful if we each wrote down the major points in our lives, things that a spouse of a couple of years might know about the other. Then, when we’re finished, we can exchange them and study them. Maybe even ask each other questions.”