He scrubbed his hand over his bearded chin and gazed across the plowed field. He never wanted a wife, and he should hang Hamish by his toes when he did arrive for making him want Camy. The longing to see her smile, to hold her soft hands in his calloused ones, to kiss her, to just be with her had begun to banish the horrific memories of his father and mother from his mind.
Uncle Tommy’s hoarse cluck became even more excited than normal. Hound pounced on his feet with his front paws. Hoping to appease the mongrel, Duncan patted the dog on the head while he continued woolgathering about one tiny woman who had his innards all tied in knots.
“Hello.”
Air caught in his throat. He rolled his shoulders and drew in a tight breath. “Hello,” he returned. He didn’t want to catch sight of her for fear that the last threads of his hatred toward his father would disappear altogether.
But he couldn’t quite ignore her either, not when he had wondered over her condition since that day nearly a week ago when he’d left her standing in the cabin. It hadn’t been an easy decision to walk away, to pretend he no longer cared for her well-being. Or to remain out of sight today when Dr. Northrop arrived to check on her, when all he wanted to do was sit at the small table inside the cabin and listen to Camy’s quiet stammer, to read scripture with her.
He wondered if her color had turned back to normal, or if her hair sprung around her head in curls. A whole week he’d gone without catching even the slightest glimpse of her. It had been difficult, but he had survived. If he went a week, could he go a lifetime?
He turned. A jolt slammed against his chest. She was even more beautiful than he recalled. The sun captured the thick waves curling down her back, turning the dark strands to gilded copper, a stark contrast to the white sling holding her injured arm in place against the dark green dress. “Are you well?”
She dropped her head and looked at the ground, but not before he witnessed the staining of her cheeks. “Y-yes, Benjamin said I’m fine.”
Although he was elated at the doctor’s report, he was displeased to hear the stuttering more now than before when she spoke. Had his absence caused her confidence to wane? He hoped not. He moved to a safe topic. “The field is plowed. Mara told me about your planting. If the weather holds I should have potatoes in by week’s end. Would you like to show me where you want them planted?”
She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. “Of c-course.”
He recalled the niece Hamish had described to him, biddable, homely, a woman who preferred her nose in a book rather than sipping tea and gossiping. The woman he’d come to think about morning, noon and night was none of those things. Besides the stuttering when she seemed nervous, or the tendency to chew on her lip, she’d been anything but those things, spitting mad, courageous, determined and tenderhearted. But now he was seeing her shyness. Why?
He held out his arm, and although the sleeve of her gown, his shirt and his coat would form a barrier between them, he mentally prepared himself for his reaction to her arm resting against his. An image of her head tucked against his shoulder as they watched the sun disappear behind the trees had his toes curling in her father’s boots. “Shall we walk?”
She hesitated, drew her bottom lip between her teeth and then looped her arm with his. They strolled along the fence to the gate. He released her and held it open for her and their two companions to pass through. Hound bounded through and ran into the field, and Uncle Tommy strutted after him. Camy glided through as if she were on a dance floor rather than strolling through the dirt.
He closed the gate and returned his arm through hers, this time taking delight in the warmth created between them. He guided her toward the edge of the barn, halted and reluctantly took three steps from her so he could breathe without inhaling freshly baked bread and spring. He needed to focus on the planting, not on the many ways to court her when he didn’t know if he should, or even could. “Mara said you’ve planted the potatoes in the back field and the peas beside them.”
She shielded her eyes and glanced toward the area. “Yes.”
“Does the sun bother you? Do you not have a bonnet?”
She quickly gathered the thick strands together and pulled her hair over one shoulder. Although the movement was meant to hide the wildly untamed curls from him, it revealed the curve of her jaw and the porcelain length of her neck.
He shortened the distance between them. “Don’t.” He loosened her grip on her hair. He clamped his tongue on the next word bursting forth. He wanted to claim her as his bride. But he wasn’t ready to commit to forever with her, especially since he now knew if he married her he’d never be able to leave her as he had first intended. Once she bore his name, once they became partners in cultivating the land, they’d become partners in all things. He knew that in the depths of his being, no matter how much he tried to deny it. “I only mentioned the bonnet for your comfort to shield your eyes.”
Lifting her chin, she searched him with her gaze. He was supposed to be talking to her about peas and potatoes, not losing himself in pools of coffee. But he couldn’t remove the thought of her from his mind. His gaze dropped to her mouth, that bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “You have no reason to be nervous, Camy.”
The words tumbled from him. She dropped her chin, but he lifted it with the tip of his finger. “No hiding.”
From the moment he discovered she was his intended wife, he’d fought the inevitable. He still did not know what choices he’d make, but he knew he couldn’t go another moment without knowing one thing. His heart thundered in his chest. He held her gaze as he leaned in. Their breaths began to mingle, to dance between them, and her dark lashes fell against her cheeks. He leaned closer. Even with a whisper of air between them, the warmth of her mouth radiated to his.
“Camy!” Mara’s voice came from around the barn.
Camy’s eyes blinked open. Duncan jumped back.
“Here, Mara.” Cheeks flamed, Camy ran her palm down the front of her skirt and strode toward the gate. She paused and tossed a glance over her shoulder. The corner of her mouth turned upward in a smile with a hint of solemnness. The rest of her was cloaked in timidity. Did she regret they almost kissed, or was she saddened that they were interrupted?
He ripped his hat from his head and slapped it against his thigh. He willed his racing pulse to settle. The energy pumping through his veins was much greater than when he had dodged bullets on the battlefield. One wrong move and his life would have been extinguished. He stared at the empty place near the gate and knew he’d dodged a bullet. Problem was, he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Uncle Tommy squawked and then pecked at his boot. “You think I should have tried harder?” he whispered to the animals.
Hound’s wet nose nudged his hand in response. Duncan patted Hound’s head. “We’ll see, Hound. We’ll see.”
If he tried any harder he’d be caught, trapped in a noose tighter than the rope he’d swung from when he’d first met the doe-eyed beauty. Funny thing was, his feet had been firmly planted on the ground for over a week and his head continued to feel out of sorts.
White puffy clouds danced across the brilliant blue sky. “Lord, I do not know what to do. I need You to direct my paths. If there is any of my father in me, take me far from this place because I cannot subject Camy to such callousness.”
* * *
Camy quickened her strides around the barn and came alongside her sister. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” Mara twirled the water bucket as if she were twelve, not almost eighteen.
“Call my name.” Camy considered what had almost occurred, what would have occurred had Mara not interrupted her and Duncan.
“You told me to, remember? You wanted to know when I was ready to go to Rusa.” Mara cocked her head, a V creasing her brow. A smirk twisted her mouth. “What hap
pened?”
Camy’s face burned with embarrassment. She rushed into the barn. Dust danced on beams of light from the open shutters, illuminating the inside of the barn. She collapsed on a stool hiding in the shadows. Resting her elbow on her thigh, she cradled her head and worked to slow her breaths.
“Did he kiss you?”
“No.”
“Did he almost kiss you?”
Camy lifted her head, her cheeks still warm. She pressed her palm to her stomach to calm the swirling. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe. Ohhhh,” Mara said as she rubbed her hands together. “This is more exciting than Ellie and Ben. Of course I was much younger whenever he’d sneak a kiss or two and didn’t quite understand this whole romance thing, but you and Duncan Murray.” She clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to tell Ellie.”
Camy stood up and touched Mara’s arm. “Please don’t. Not yet.”
“Why ever not? She’ll be happy and it’ll take a burden off her shoulders. Maybe she’ll even consider loving Benny again.”
“She’s never stopped, but thank you for adding a burden to my own shoulders.” She plopped back onto the stool.
Hamish was old and frail, unable to stand against the men who’d plagued them over the last year, but then Hamish had rarely stayed too long at Sims Creek. As Ellie had said, Duncan’s shoulders were wide enough to bear their burdens. He was much younger than Hamish and well capable of protecting their home. All her sisters’ problems would be solved if she agreed to marry Duncan, but marriage to him would be the worst torment. Certainly he made her feel beautiful, where Miller had made her feel like a disgusting bug, but Duncan didn’t want a wife, her or any other. And if a man didn’t want a wife, then he couldn’t offer his wife companionship, or love. She didn’t even know if he intended to stick around if and when the vows were said. Did she want to be bound by the laws of marriage never to truly be married? After all, Duncan said their marriage would be in name only. Was that to be her lot in life, childless if she didn’t marry, childless if she did? Childless when her heart longed to nestle a babe against her chest?
“Camy,” Mara said as she knelt in front of her. “Would marrying Duncan be so bad? He is brawny, after all.”
“There is more to marriage than having a brawny husband, Mara.”
“Like what?”
Mara was young and full of dreams of handsome, chivalrous men and Camy didn’t want to crush her disillusions, not yet. “Companionship, affection, loyalty. Not abandonment.”
“Do you expect Duncan to fill Da’s shoes?” Mara rose. “Your measuring stick is flawed, Cameron Sims. Any man you meet will come up short, and not because of our father’s merit but his lack. I’ve admired your strength and the way you carry this farm because you love it so, but I pity you, dear sister. If you’ll not give any man a chance because of Da’s failures, you’ll never get the chance to be loved by anyone but me and Ellie. You’ll always live in fear of our father’s rejection.”
Camy stared at her sister, stunned at the wisdom in her youth. Wisdom Camy should consider, but could she? Fear had been her companion since the day their father abandoned them. Could she leave it behind and discover what life had to offer, even if Duncan decided to never be a husband in truth? Could she step outside herself and believe that she was worth affection, maybe even love?
“Did you tell Duncan we’re going to town?” Mara Jean asked.
“No.” By the time she’d found him she’d forgotten what she’d sought him out for. After a week of spying on him from behind the faded blue curtains as he moved about the farm, she thought she had memorized every detail of Duncan Murray, but having seen him up close, she knew there was more to learn. She barely remembered her name at the sight of him.
“Well, don’t you think you ought to?”
“Ought to what?” Camy gave herself a mental shake to remove the image of Duncan from her mind.
“Tell him.” Mara rolled her eyes. “He’s not going to like it if you don’t.”
“I’m not going to like what?” Duncan asked, scaring Camy off the three-legged stool.
“Oh, my sister here was supposed to tell you that she, Ellie and I are going into town for supplies, but she kind of forgot.” Mara smirked.
“Forgot, huh?” Duncan’s eyes twinkled as if he knew why she forgot. “Well, you won’t be going by yourselves.”
* * *
An hour later they pulled in front of M&J’s Mercantile. Duncan lifted Camy to the ground and assisted her up the stairs as her sisters bustled in ahead of them. “They both seem eager to shop,” Duncan said.
Camy pulled her arm from his. “We don’t come to town much during the winter months. Ellie looks forward to seeing the new bolts of fabric, and Mara peruses the ribbons.”
“And what is it you like?” he asked as he held the door open.
“Definitely lemon d-drops and p-peppermint sticks,” she said, brushing his arm as she entered the mercantile.
“Is that so?”
“Of course, I inspect the jars every time I come to see if there’s anything new I might like to try.” She maneuvered her way through the displays until she reached the counter. “Hello, Mr. Davis.”
“Well, hello there, Cameron. It’s nice to see you.” He wiped his hands on his apron and held his hand out. “Who is this young strapping fellow you have here?”
“Mr. Murray.”
“Call me Duncan,” he said, shaking Mr. Davis’s hand. “I’m Cameron’s fiancé.”
Camy gaped at him, wondering why he would declare such a thing if he hadn’t settled it in his mind yet, when they hadn’t even negotiated terms.
“Oh,” Mrs. Davis chirped as she came into view from the back. “You must be that young man who shot our dear one.”
The dimple in Duncan’s cheek appeared as he smiled at Mrs. Davis. “I assure you it was unintentional.”
“I sure do hope so, Mr. Murray.” Mrs. Davis came over and hugged Camy, careful not to jar her injured arm and leaving Duncan talking with Mr. Davis. “I see Ellie has found the new bolts. I do hope she’ll take me up on my offer and set up shop in the back room. She makes the most beautiful dresses, but I understand that she wants to see you and Mara settled first.”
Camy glanced at her sister and could see the plans running around in her head for the piece sliding through her fingers. Was that why things hadn’t worked between Ellie and Benjamin, because she wanted to see Camy and Mara settled? Duncan laughed at something Mr. Davis said, drawing her attention to him. If she were to marry him, would Ellie be free to marry Benjamin or to open her own business?
“It looks as if your sisters will be a while. Will you walk with me?” Duncan asked as he received a brown paper bag from Mr. Davis.
“Yes, of course.”
They stepped out onto the boarded planks lining the main street of Rusa. “There’s not much here, is there?”
Camy’s hackles raised in defense of the small town she loved. “It’s certainly not the c-city, but it has the necessities, depending on what you’re looking for.” She drew him toward the little church with the white steeple and white picket fence. “This is where we attend services when we’re able. Pastor Hammond and his wife have been here almost a year and are expecting their first child in May.”
“Will we come Sunday?” he asked, looking longingly at the white doors.
“As long as it doesn’t rain.” They strolled toward the north end of town while she pointed out various businesses and gave him details of the owners. “The Northrops’ home is over that hill,” she said, pointing to the west. She then pointed to the east. “That is Mrs. Smith’s mansion. And right here is where I understand they’re going to build the railroad.”
“You don’t sound happy about it,” he responded, leading her to
the banks of the river.
“After the last year, do you blame me?”
“No.”
“I’d much rather they build here than go through Sims Creek. I just don’t see how it is beneficial to build it straight through the center of town.”
Duncan glanced around, taking in the landscape. “It’s flat here, making production easier and quicker. The hills on either side would take more man power and more time.”
“How do you know so much?”
He picked up a few stones and tossed one into the river. “I have some experience.”
A question niggled in her thoughts, but she couldn’t form the right words, so she brought up the other subject unsettled between them. “I won’t allow Hamish to force you to marry me.”
He tossed another stone. “I am not a man easily forced into anything. Mightier men have tried and failed.”
She held her tongue, waiting. After several long seconds, he took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “When I was barely seventeen a neighbor had invited me to his home. Upon my arrival I was met with a gun at my back and a preacher at my front.”
Camy’s eyes grew wide. Letting her hand go, he picked up several more rocks and thrust one across the river.
“I was falsely accused of compromising a young woman, the daughter of a neighbor who insisted I marry her. She was several years older than my sixteen summers, but that did not seem to matter. Fortunately my father arrived and sent me home.”
“What happened to her?”
Duncan glanced at her. “I don’t know. My father was killed, and I left Scotland shortly after his death.” After he discovered a wealthy inheritance as well as several half siblings his father had produced throughout the Highlands. According to the village gossip, the neighbor had found himself with no funds and intended on using Duncan and his father’s money as a remedy.
The Negotiated Marriage Page 11