The French War Bride by Robin Wells Page A

it was wonderful.”
    â€œI’m afraid I don’t have time for movies,” Jack said politely.
    â€œSurely you have
some
spare time. What do you do with it?”
    â€œWell, I read,” Jack said.
    â€œKat loves to read, too,” Mother said. Bless her heart, she could tell I was smitten with Jack, and she was trying to help my cause. The truth was, I seldom read anything except magazines. “What type of books do you like?”
    â€œAnything on anatomy, physiology, and medicine,” he replied. “But I’m afraid I’ve exhausted the public library’s supply.”
    â€œOh, I have bookshelves full of textbooks and medical journals,” Daddy said. “I’ll be happy to loan some to you.”
    After dinner, I helped Mother clean up, while Daddy and Jack went into Daddy’s library. After a while, Mother went in and suggested that Jack might like to join me on the porch for lemonade and cookies.
    He gladly acquiesced. Together we perused one of the books Daddy had loaned him. Jack exclaimed over a diagram of the nervous system, and I pretended to follow what he was talking about. I was content to just sit beside him and listen.
    The following week, Jack returned the books, and Father loaned him more. They spent more than two hours talking, then Jack joined us again for supper. Once again, Mother shooed Jack and me out onto the porch together.
    It became a Sunday ritual. He and Daddy would talk medicine for hours, then Jack and I would go to the porch, where we would peruse one of the books.
    I knew that Jack was there to see Daddy, but I suspected he liked me a little, too. I caught him gazing at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The problem, I felt, was that he thought I was too young for him.
    At the urging of my friends, I finally put him on the spot about it. We were sitting in the porch swing of my parents’ home. I held a silk pleated fan. “Next Sunday is the Fourth of July picnic,” I said. “Are you taking anyone to it?”
    In Wedding Tree, going to a town event with someone was public acknowledgment that you were a couple. I watched the tops of his ears get red.
    â€œI, uh, hadn’t really thought about it.”
    â€œWell, time is running out.”
    He looked directly at me. “Are you hinting that I should ask you?”
    I glanced away, taken aback by his forthrightness. “Maybe.”
    â€œDon’t you think you’re a little young to be dating a high school senior?”
    â€œYou’re only going to be a senior because you were skipped ahead in grade school. You’re just one year older than me.” I waved my fan in front of my face. “My daddy’s five years older than Mother.”
    â€œHmm,” he said.
    â€œWasn’t your father older than your mother?”
    â€œBy eight years.” He studied the painted porch floor. “I’ve wondered if that was part of the reason they didn’t get along so well.”
    This was news to me. “They didn’t?”
    He shook his head. “They were too different. Mother was used to a refined life in Charleston, and Pop was a farmer always scrambling to make money.”
    â€œSounds more like a difference in ways of life than of age.”
    â€œI suppose that was part of it.”
    â€œWell, you and I don’t have that problem.”
    His eyes lit with amusement. “No?”
    â€œNo. We’ve grown up in the same town, we go to the same church, and we’ve gone to the same schools.”
    â€œExcept I’m in high school and you’re in junior high.”
    â€œI am not! I’ll be a sophomore this fall, which means I’m a high school student, same as you. And I’m very mature for my age. Everyone says so.”
    â€œIs that right.” He smiled at me, his blue eyes laughing.
    â€œIt most certainly is.”
    â€œDo your parents think you’re old enough to date?”
    I had