Then Came You: A Prequel to The McPhee Clan by Jillian Hart

serrated her heart. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her sternum. Just think of her life without Gil in it—there would be no friendship, no laughter, no conversations between them. Just distance and uneasiness. She bit her bottom lip, deeply miserable. See what a mistake it had been to let her feelings get out of control? Now they were impossible to reel back in. Why had she done it?
    Because she'd been weak, unable to control her heart. She'd known all along she couldn't marry him, but now they couldn't even be friends. That loss struck hard, and she swallowed down the sob rising in her throat. Focusing on the last glop of frosting in the bowl, she swirled it onto her spatula and gave the cake a finishing touch.
    "It's time!" Cook clapped her hands above the frenetic noise in the kitchen. Chatter silenced, knives stilled, the staff paraded by the counters and like a well-disciplined army lifted platters and bowls, steaming with delicious food. "Lucile, you lead. Missy, get in the back. Don't spill a drop of that gravy. Maebry, carry the bowls of string beans and carrots, that's a love."
    Ready to help, she nodded in agreement, set aside the spatula and snatched up the designated bowls. Carrots in a butter glaze steamed up at her, emitted a delicious aroma, although when she breathed in the green beans with crumbled bacon, her stomach rumbled hungrily. Who wouldn't salivate, she thought as she slipped into the back of the line of servers. This was a feast fit for royalty.
    "I can't believe all this food," Missy turned around in line to whisper, then fell silent when Cook gave her a squinty eye. Deportment mattered in the Montgomery household.
    Maebry squared her shoulders, straightened her spine and did her best to look presentable as she paraded past Cook, through the doors and into the hallway. The conversations of the awaiting guests echoed in the coved ceiling overhead, and the beams of golden light from the chandeliers cast a heavenly glow over the luxurious room.
    Fine furniture gleamed, crystal glittered, real silver glinted in the light. The best linen money could buy draped the main dining table and several that had been brought in from other rooms. The seated guests all turned to comment in anticipation of the delicious food. Maebry kept her eyes on the ground, careful not to tread on the backs of Missy's shoes, feeling anonymous in her black maid's dress and white ruffled apron, borrowed from the uniform closet. The skirt was a tad shorter than she'd hoped, showing the upper portion of her shoe. She hoped no one noticed the twine holding it onto her foot.
    No one seemed to. Only one man watched her with a steady, claiming gaze. Gil shifted in his chair as she circled toward him. He stopped in mid-sentence, ignoring one of the Montgomery brothers he'd been speaking with. The corners of his mouth upturned, the intensity shadowing his bright blue eyes darkened. The noise in the room silenced, everything faded away as if it were only the two of them. Her breathing stilled, she wasn't even sure if her heart was beating as Gil's gaze sank into hers. Her skin tingled as she swept past him. Every hair on her arm stood at attention. Aware of him. Affected by him.
    "It's a shame Aumaleigh couldn't be here." A woman's voice came as if from a great distance. "The rumors about Maureen must be true. How is she doing, Maebry?"
    At the sound of her name she blinked, breaking the hold Gil had on her. The room around her rushed in—the bright lamplight, the many tables ringing with conversation, the guests merry. She set down the bowls of vegetables on the table next to Sarah Combs's dinner plate. The young woman, who was the local schoolteacher, looked up at her expectantly, auburn-brown curls framing her pretty face.
    "Uh, Maureen is struggling." She kept her voice low, so it wouldn’t carry. No doubt Mrs. Montgomery would not approve of her servants speaking with the guests. "We fear she had a small stroke last night,