Storing Up Trouble, стр. 8
“This is not the time for such nasty business,” he said, earning a nibble from the horse, which had perspiration beading his forehead and his stomach roiling.
“You lost, mister?”
Turning, Norman discovered a young boy standing a few feet away from him, holding an empty bucket in one hand and a stick with a line attached to it in the other.
He wasn’t a man comfortable around children, never knew what to say to them even though he had numerous nieces and nephews. However, since he was lost at the moment, Norman nodded.
“I’m afraid I am lost. I’ve also misplaced the woman I was traveling with and was about to go on a quest to try and locate her. Any chance you’d be willing to help me out? I have a feeling she’s off to find the nearest road or train station.”
The lad smiled, revealing a large gap in his front teeth. “Is a quest the same as an adventure?”
“I suppose it is.”
The boy nodded. “That sounds almost as fun as fishing, so sure, I’ll help you.” His smile faded. “Don’t know how we can go about finding your lost woman, though, but the road that’ll take you to the Merrillville train station is that way.” He pointed the stick to the right. “Want me to lead the way?”
“That would be most appreciated.”
After retrieving the steel plates and research papers, and after taking a moment to re-gird his chest because there was a possibility Beatrix might reappear at some point and because she was still armed, Norman took hold of the horse’s reins and fell into step beside the boy.
He soon learned that the boy’s name was John Nelson, and he also learned that John was eight years old and had annoying sisters who didn’t care for fishing. The look he sent him after that disclosure left Norman with the distinct impression John found that more than a tad confusing. The little boy then launched into all the reasons why fishing was his favorite activity, and since he didn’t expect Norman to do more than nod every few minutes, Norman found their walk through the forest to be surprisingly pleasant.
Stepping from the trees almost an hour later, Norman came to an abrupt stop when he heard something behind him. Turning, he frowned when Beatrix cantered into sight, leaving him to wonder if she’d been following them the entire time—a concerning notion since he’d not had the smallest inkling she was trailing after him.
“Couldn’t find your way back on your own?” he called.
Beatrix reined her horse to a stop as her nose shot straight into the air. “I turned around to come back for you because I was worried about your mother, which should have you reconsidering your conclusions about spinsters and our supposed lack of maternal feelings.”
“What does my mother have to do with anything?”
“I figured she’d be beside herself if you didn’t return to Chicago within the next few days. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself knowing that if you came to an unpleasant end, I could have spared your mother such anguish. So, here I am, but how fortunate this boy came across you and was so helpful with leading you out of the forest and to a road.” With that, Beatrix slid gracefully from the saddle and strode over to John.
“I’m Miss Beatrix Waterbury,” she said, smiling at John, who was watching her with wide eyes. “What’s your name?”
“I’m John Nelson, Miss Waterbury, and I ain’t never seen a lady wearing such a fancy dress get off a horse so smoothly.”
“I’ve been riding since before I could walk,” Beatrix said right as the sound of barking rang out, which sent John bolting forward.
“That’s Charlie,” he called over his shoulder. “He’s lookin’ for me. Don’t want him to worry, so I’ll be right back.”
As John dashed away, Beatrix’s smile widened. “What a delightful boy.”
“I suppose he is, although he’s very chatty for one so young.”
“Am I correct in assuming you don’t converse in idle chitchat with children?”
“I don’t have an aptitude for participating in idle chitchat with anyone.”
“How unfortunate for you. I’ve always found it to be a wonderful way to engage in pleasant interludes with strangers who then often evolve into friends.” Beatrix turned from him as John came racing into sight, a large dog of indeterminate breed keeping pace beside him, its tail wagging furiously.
A second later, as Beatrix knelt to greet the boy and his dog, she was knocked to the ground by Charlie, peals of laughter escaping her as the dog immediately proceeded to lick her face.
Norman suddenly felt the most unusual urge to laugh with her, an idea that took him so aback that any amusement he’d been feeling disappeared in a flash.
He was not a man who laughed often, preferring to embrace a somber attitude, one that befitted a serious man of science.
The very idea that he’d felt compelled to join in Beatrix’s amusement left him with the concerning notion that his well-structured world was slowly becoming anything other than structured.
Taking a firm grip of the horse’s reins, he tugged the horse forward, not bothering to even flinch when it let out a nicker. Frankly, there was no time for flinching, not when it was becoming clear to him that his well-structured life was in certain jeopardy.
For the sake of his sanity, he realized that he needed to part ways as quickly as possible with Miss Beatrix Waterbury because even though he barely knew the woman, he was now convinced she had the ability to disrupt his world, which would then disrupt his work, and that was something he couldn’t—or rather wouldn’t—allow anyone to do.
After thanking John for getting Norman out of the forest, Beatrix couldn’t resist a roll of the eyes when Norman threw himself across the saddle again. He then asked her to keep their