Sycamore Hill (46 page)
I smiled mischievously. “Don’t you think you should marry me
first?”
“You’ll get your church wedding all in due time, Miss McFarland.
But not in the next twenty-four hours,” he told me. “Now, wipe the dust off
your face, button up your blouse and act like a lady... for a little while
anyway,” he commanded.
I made a face at him, but for the moment at least, I obeyed.
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