Handpicked Husband. Winnie Griggs

young man, grinned wryly. While they were down at the lake getting cleaned up for breakfast, Ira had driven the gaudy wagon around to the front of the cabin.

      Here in the bright morning sunlight it presented an even more startling spectacle than it had in the evening shade yesterday. For one thing, he could see the front now. The wagon’s roof extended over the seat, shading a pale pink upholstered bench. The sides extended past that same seat in a double set of quarter-moon-like scallops. It made the driver’s box appear to be the inside of some exotic seashell. Combined with its other flamboyant features, the vehicle had all the finesse of a clown at a funeral.

      “I see you’ve noticed my studio on wheels.”

      Regina, arms wrapped around a small crate, stepped down from the porch. She handled her awkward burden with more ease than Adam normally expected from a woman. It should have made her appear mannish. Instead, it gave her a sort of stately grace.

      “Quite striking, don’t you think?”

      It took him a heartbeat to realize she was talking about the wagon. Clearing his throat, he reined in his wayward thoughts. And realized her eyes glinted with the hint of mischief.