It was after six. She wouldn't have much time to get ready before Kurt arrived.
"I'm going to have to skip dessert if I want to be ready when Kurt gets here," she declared.
"But I've done your favorite," Ruth protested. "Fresh strawberries and baking powder biscuits with thick cream from the Johanson farm."
Alanna grimaced regretfully. "Save me some. I'll have it for breakfast in the morning."
"You shouldn't be eating dessert for breakfast," Ruth said in a disapproving tone.
"Why not? It isn't any different from having fresh fruit and toast," she teased.
Cleaning her plate, she asked to be excused and hurried to her room. By the time she had showered, applied fresh makeup, and changed, Kurt was already there. She could hear him in the living room talking to her mother as she came down the stairs. Her father stepped out of the library and paused when he saw her. His serious expression softened at the sight of her.
"You look lovely, Alanna." Dorian Powell walked to the foot of the stairs to meet her. His gaze ran over her, admiring the amethyst sparkle the lavender dress gave to her eyes. "Even if I am a bit prejudiced it's still the truth."
"Thank you, daddy." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and glanced toward the living room. "Has Kurt been waiting long?"
"No more than five minutes, but once he sees you he won't mind," he answered, smiling. "Tell me, are you serious about young Matthews? Should I be in there interrogating him like a future father-in-law?"
Twice in one day—first her mother and now her father! Alanna couldn't believe it. She laughed with a trace of bewilderment,
"You're as bad as mother," she declared. "You both seem intent on whisking me off to the altar. I have a year of college to finish yet."
Pain flickered briefly in his eyes. "Of course you do," he repeated, a chagrined smile touching his mouth. "Your mother and I are just naturally anxious to know that your future is secure, that there's someone around who will love you and look after you the way we do."
"I'm capable of looking after myself," Alanna reminded him gently.
"I know that, honey," her father nodded. "But I guess parents always think about their daughter getting married to some nice young man who'll be able to provide a good home for her. To me, Rolt's brother seems like an ideal prospect. He's pleasant and intelligent and I know Rolt will always look out for his interests."
And how! Alanna thought. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her father exactly what kind of brother Kurt had. Look out for Kurt's interest, indeed! How much would her father admire Rolt if he found out that Rolt was planning to try to steal her away from his brother?
She swallowed back the words. It would only upset her father to have his confidence in Rolt shaken. He would start worrying about the plant and all the employees and their families who depended on it.
"I think Kurt can take care of himself without any help from his brother," she said instead,
"Probably he can," her father conceded, but in a doubtful tone that irritated Alanna. "Young Matthews could get ahead on his own, but he doesn't have the drive that Rolt does. After all, Rolt is—"
"—a giant. I know, daddy." She sighed. "The next thing I know you'll be advocating that I marry Rolt."
"Well…" An impish twinkle danced in his eyes. But Alanna failed to find it amusing and the light faded from his eyes. "When you do marry, I only want it to be to the man you want," he added.
"I know." A rueful smile curved the vulnerable line of her mouth. No matter what he said, she knew he simply wanted her to be happy. Parents just had odd ideas sometimes about what would make their children happy. "I'd better not keep Kurt waiting any longer," she declared, and gave her father a quick hug because she loved him. "Don't wait up for me."
He smiled as she moved toward the living room. Alanna thought his sensitive face looked sad and troubled behind the cheerful smile. Fleetingly she wondered why, then Kurt was rising to meet her and she didn't have time to contemplate the cause.
Several times during the rest of the week the impression returned. It wasn't anything Alanna could put her finger on, but the sensation that something was wrong wouldn't go away. It was like a dark cloud lurking near the sun, cas
ting a shadow without dimming the light.
Once, when her mother was napping and they were alone, Alanna had voiced her concern. They were sitting in the living room, her father staring off into space in a preoccupied fashion.
"What's wrong, dad?" she had asked.
"Hmm? What?" He had looked at her blankly, not catching the question.
"Is some thing wrong? You look as if you have some deep, dark problem weighing you down," Alanna had teased, making light of her serious question.
"Old age," he had sighed, his mouth quirking.