In a Stranger's Arms (9 page)

“Did you leave any folks behind in Pennsylvania?” Caddie seemed to concentrate on her sweeping, tossing off the question as if just making small talk.

Something about the way she cocked her head, and a certain tension in her posture, told Manning his answer mattered to her. Mattered very much.

“Parents?” she prompted when he didn’t answer at once. “Children? A wife?”

That’s what had her worried! Manning almost laughed with relief. “I swear you’re my first and only wife, ma’am, and my folks have passed on. Part of the reason I came to Virginia was because there was nothing left for me up North.”

Silently he prayed Caddie wouldn’t ask him the other part of what had drawn him to Sabbath Hollow. Fortunately, she didn’t.

“I reckon you’re right about putting the past behind us. That may be easier for the victor than the... vanquished.” She seemed to gag on that word. “Let’s talk about the future of Sabbath Hollow. Getting hold of good breeding stock won’t be easy or cheap. We might buy a few broodmares from Kentucky.”

Manning shook his head. “Even if it were possible to breed horses again, nobody around here could afford to buy them. Besides, I barely know a horse’s withers from its fetlock.”

“Then I reckon you’d better learn.” Her long-fingered hands clenched around the broom handle. The face that had looked so soft and appealing only a few minutes ago turned hard as her fine brows tensed and her delicate jaw clenched. “You promised to help me restore this plantation. I took that to mean you’d return Sabbath Hallow to the way it was before the war.”

“I promised I’d do everything in my power to make it prosperous again,” Manning corrected her. “Horse breeding isn’t the way to do that.”

His vow to protect and provide for the family didn’t include indulging a woman who foolishly clung to the old and familiar, no matter how ill-suited to a changed world.

Caddie thrust her slender shoulders back, holding the rough corn broom as though it was a royal scepter. “There are things in this world more important than financial prosperity, sir. Heritage. Traditions. Not that I’d expect a man to understand such ideals when he’s come to Virginia with no higher purpose than to chase a dollar.”

Though her words dealt his spirit a harsh blow, Manning knew he dared not protest. Better Caddie think him a grasping exploiter than guess his true intent. Some of the hurt he tried to mask must have shown on his face, though.

Caddie’s stiff, imperious manner thawed by several degrees. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Forbes. I must sound like an ungrateful shrew. You put yourself at the disposal of me and my children. It’s not my place to impose restrictions on your efforts.”

Staring into the distance as if gazing back in time, she sighed. “Only, I did want Templeton to be able to carry on the gentlemanly enterprise of his forefathers.”

Damnation!
Manning almost gagged on that unuttered curse. Caddie arrogant and contemptuous, he could have resisted without a qualm. But Caddie gracious and wistful outgunned his bristling defenses and took his honor hostage.

“The Marsh family didn’t always breed horses, did they?” Did he dare challenge her on her own territory— family tradition? “When I scouted the property in this area, I discovered an abandoned sawmill. Doesn’t look like it’s been used in a while, but I believe with a few repairs we could get it operating again. Folks are going to require lumber to rebuild. We’d be providing a needed service.”

“The old mill,” Caddie murmured, more to herself than to him. “Somebody must’ve used it once upon a time.”

“Heaven knows there’s plenty of woodland around these parts.” Manning gestured toward the window and the stand of mature hardwood visible through it. “We could buy timber from the folks hereabouts and help them get back on their feet, too.”

As he waited in silence for her answer, the children ran past, shouting and laughing, with Sergeant barking at their heels.

Manning ventured one last appeal. “This place belongs to your boy. The final say is yours. I’d like us to have a fighting chance to make a go of it, though.”

Tentatively, perhaps reluctantly, Caddie nodded. “If we make a decent profit from the mill, perhaps we could purchase some breeding stock. Get back into it, gradual like.”

“That sounds like a fine idea.” Somehow Manning found himself happier with this honorable compromise than if Caddie had agreed to his plan right away. “I’ll give the mill a good close inspection tomorrow, to see what repairs it will need. If I have time afterward, I’ll ride into Mercer’s Corner and post some notices for a crew to run the mill and others to let folks know we’ll soon be looking to buy wood.”

The direction of their future settled, Manning headed off to tackle a few more small repairs around the house before sundown. Once Caddie had gone to bed, he would lock up the house and turn in. The last thing he wanted was another embarrassing encounter like this morning.

He’d gone a few steps up the back stairs when another thought struck him. “While I’m in town,’’ he called down to Caddie, “I’ll see if I can hire someone to help you around the house.”

“Can we afford that?” She sounded almost offended by the suggestion. “I’m quite capable of managing on my own.”

Was she talking about a hired girl, Manning wondered, or about him?

She’d been forced to accept his help, but she resented the necessity—that much was clear. When it came to Varina’s stubbornness, Manning didn’t think that little crabapple had fallen far from the maternal tree.

He turned and looked back at Caddie—tattered, overworked, but somehow still regal. Her fierce pride and bullheaded independence would not make it easy for him to fulfill his vow. He couldn’t let it stop him, no matter how much he admired those qualities.

“We all need help now and then, ma’am. There’s no shame in accepting it.”

Chapter Six

“
Y
OU
’
RE A FINE
one to talk about accepting help with good grace, Mr. Forbes.” Caddie’s voice echoed in the bare entry hall. She shot Manning a challenging look as she donned her bonnet.

A full week had passed since their negotiated agreement to reopen the old sawmill, yet they still hadn’t engaged a single worker. Despite the notices Manning had put up all over Mercer’s Corner no lumber contracts had been forthcoming and no girls from the neighborhood had inquired about the housekeeping job. Caddie intended to find out why.

“Give it a little more time.” Manning raked long fingers through his dark hair.

Stiffened with sweat, it stood on end like the bristles of a corn broom. It shouldn’t have looked the least bit attractive to a fastidious woman like Caddie.

But it did—damn it.

“Your neighbors probably don’t get into town that often,” Manning protested. “Word will find its way around in time.”

“It certainly will.” Caddie spoke in a brisk tone as she pulled on her last decent pair of gloves. “For I intend to spread it myself. You need a crew of good workmen to finish the repairs on that mill. Mark my words, if you keep trying to do everything by yourself, you’re going to wind up injured. Or else get yourself run down until you fall ill. I’ve lost one husband, sir. I can’t afford to lose another.”

Was it her imagination, or did Manning’s complexion suddenly take on a grayish pallor? The stormy look in his steel-blue eyes was surely more than her fancy. Could the man be that set on working himself to death? Or was it something more?

He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t like you having to go cap in hand to your neighbors on my account.”

Neither did she, but Caddie wasn’t about to let that stop her. Having discovered something she could do to speed the rehabilitation of Sabbath Hollow, she wouldn’t have let the entire Army of the Potomac stand in her way.

Manning had been working too hard.

Though she wouldn’t have let him guess it for the world, genuine concern lay beneath her offhand talk of losing another husband. Every morning, that ornery old rooster had barely finished crowing when Manning took a corn pone and a piece of cold meat for his breakfast, then trudged up the hill and through the woods to the mill. Awhile after the sun had set behind the Blue Ridge Mountains, he dragged himself back to Sabbath Hollow for a late supper.

Every evening Caddie noticed some new injury—a gash on his forehead, a blackened thumbnail, a slight limp. And every evening Manning appeared more exhausted from his day’s labor. Last night he’d fallen asleep at the supper table before he could even finish his meal. When no amount of calling succeeded in rousing him, Caddie had been obliged to shake his shoulder.

But not before the sight of his peaceful, unguarded features had tempted her to graze her fingertips down the side of his face and rest for a furtive, tender moment on his jutting chin. Many hours later, the memory of that stolen touch fueled a scorching blush in her own face.

She turned away from Manning, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “It’s not as though I’ll be begging for handouts. I’ll just pay a few social calls on my neighbors, to let them know the children and I are home. If I happen to mention the sawmill in conversation, where’s the harm in that?”

Before Manning could tell her what harm there might be, she walked over to the bottom of the stairs and called up. “Varina, Templeton, come on, now. I’m pretty near ready to go.”

With a deafening clatter quite out of proportion to her small feet, Varina charged down the staircase. Templeton dawdled quietly along behind her with his faithful canine shadow. Though Caddie saw the brindle-colored mongrel dozens of times a day, his homeliness never failed to jar her. During the past week, the dog’s faithful devotion to Tem had begun to win her heart in spite of his appearance.

Varina dashed straight at Manning. Perhaps to keep from being barreled over, he bent and scooped her up into his arms. Though he tried hard to hide it, Caddie saw him wince. Her daughter was a sturdy little armful, especially for a man with so many injuries.

“Do I look pretty?” As usual, Varina didn’t ask a question so much as demand an answer.

Before Caddie could exclaim in outrage at such forwardness, Manning nodded. “Pretty as a picture.”

“Pretty as Mama?”

“Varina Marsh!” Though Caddie tried to force her gaze away from Manning, it flew right to him.

Their eyes met and locked. Caddie doubted she’d blushed as often during all her debutante days as she had in the past fortnight. Many years had passed since she’d been so intensely conscious of herself as a woman, or cared if a man noticed how she looked.

She didn’t want to give a fig what Manning Forbes thought of her, any more than she wanted the sound of his footsteps on the porch to set her heart skipping like a flat stone across a still pond. He’d turned her world upside down. Did he have to thaw out her long-frozen emotions and set them all topsy-turvy, too?

“Pretty as Mama?” Varina’s question jolted Manning so hard that he almost dropped the child on her sturdy little backside.

In spite of his futile resistance, Caddie lured his gaze to her. Manning saw what he’d been running from for the past week—a woman who grew more beautiful and desirable by the day.

Through the shock of that realization, he managed to choke out a diplomatic answer to Varina’s question. “I’m sure you will be once you’re a grown-up lady. If you keep your hair combed and your face clean, that is.”

The child wrinkled up her nose as if at a bad smell. “Then I reckon being pretty ain’t worth the bother.”

Caddie shook her head and gazed heavenward. Manning chuckled as the brittle tension between them shattered into tiny harmless pieces. He nuzzled Varina’s plump cheek, coaxing her into a fit of giggles.

“I wager you’ll change your tune in about a dozen years, young lady.” He swung her down onto her feet. “For today, I’m sure you’ll charm all the neighbors.”

“Not if she goes fishing for compliments, she won’t.” Caddie beckoned to her daughter.

“What kind of fish is that? I want to learn to catch ’em.”

“Not a fish you eat, Rina.” Templeton spoke up from his perch on the bottom step as he petted the dog. “When folks fish for compliments it means they ask if they’re clever or if they look pretty. Fishing for compliments is bad manners.”

Perhaps figuring she’d as soon be hanged for a sheep as a goat, Varina spun around and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

The muscles in Manning’s face ached from his strenuous effort not to grin.

“That’ll be quite enough of that, missy.” Caddie brushed a smudge of dust off Varina’s skirt and straightened her hair bow. “If you can’t behave nicely, I won’t be able to take you along.”

A small lower lip thrust out. “Suits me. I’d sooner go up to the mill with Manning.”

He had visions of his whole week’s labor undone in an hour.

“Me, too, Mama.” Templeton spouted his little sister’s favorite phrase.

Caddie looked from one of her children to the other, motherly exasperation written plainly on her face.

Manning suspected a little of it extended to him, as well. For the life of him he couldn’t figure why. The woman didn’t seem to need any better reason than his presence in her house to be provoked.