From This Day Forward

by Margaret Daley

  Nathan’s eyebrow rose. “Sleep when you are tired?”

  “I usually manage to stay awake for a conversation.”

  Nathan drilled his gaze into her. “What are you going to do when you are by yourself and so tired that you cannot stay awake, but there are still chores that must be done?”

  The heat in her cheeks quickly flamed with anger. For half the day Nathan had been trying to convince her to stay with Sarah. In the past hour he had been trying to convince her at least to stay at his cabin. The prospect of staying at Liberty Hall was tempting, but she would not impose on the McNeals. And the idea of staying with Nathan past the next day frightened her. She did not like where her thoughts strayed concerning him, especially staying in such close proximity.

  She could not become dependent on him any more than she already was. The sooner she moved on with her life the sooner she would learn to depend on only herself. Since her family had disowned her, she and Faith were alone in the world. She even felt responsible for Maddy—only eighteen, with few skills to offer another family. She was all Faith and Maddy had. She could not depend on someone else, because like Tom, that person might not stay around.

  Only the Lord stayed—didn’t abandon a person. “I am grateful for what you have done: however—”

  Nathan surged to his feet. “What if I refuse to take you to Dalton Farm?”

  Rachel stiffened, her hands fisted in her lap.

  Sarah rose, sending her a fragile smile. “Now that you are awake, I will have some tea brought in and see where that husband of mine has gone.”

  The moment Sarah left the room and the door clicked closed, Rachel stood on trembling legs. She kept her hands curled at her sides. “Are you refusing to take me?”

  “No gentleman would take you and leave you there.” He covered the space between them, towering over her like a warrior preparing to do battle.

  “No gentleman goes back on his word. You promised me you would.” She raised her chin and stared up into his ice-hardened eyes.

  “I was wrong to promise you.”

  “But you did.”

  The air vibrated with anger. His gaze bore into her with an intensity that robbed her of her next breath. The hammering of her heart thundered in her ears. She would not back down in front of him even though his fury overwhelmed her. “If I have to, I will walk to the farm.”

  He pivoted away, muttering something under his breath she could not hear. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are stubborn?”

  “No, this is a newly acquired skill.”

  He slanted her an intense look that made her pulse beat even faster. “Are you saying I bring out the—”

  “The best in me? Why, I do believe you do.”

  He paced a path from the sofa to the fireplace then back again. Halting in front of Rachel, he took hold of her arms and said, “Marry me then.”

  Intensity flowed from him and wrapped about her, threatening to steal her next breath. Stunned, a weakness attacking every limb, she swayed toward him. His grasp tightened on her. “I’m sure I didn’t hear you right.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  For one fleeting moment the idea appealed to her. So many of her problems would be solved, and yet she never… “Do you love me?”

  His eyes widened. “No. Love has nothing to do with this. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you or Faith because I left you alone at the farm. With no man to protect you.”

  Many marriages were arranged, loveless matches. When she had married Tom, she had thought she had escaped that fate—only to find she hadn’t and in the process had given up her family. She yanked herself free and backed away, her hands opening and closing at her sides. She placed the sofa between them, needing the distance to think coherently. “I am not your responsibility. Do I make myself perfectly clear? I don’t want you caring for me. I had a husband once to do that.” She could live without Tom’s example of taking care of her. Marriage is not for me.

  “But I have been caring for you.”

  “Beyond what you have already done for me. I owe you too much as it is.”

  “Pride will not feed you. Pride will not protect you. Pride will not keep you warm at night.”

  Rachel gasped. He wasn’t implying—

  “Even though ’tis spring, the nights are still cold.”

  “I do not need you to…” Her words faded into the silence as a picture of Nathan kissing her flirted with her thoughts. Suddenly the parlor seemed stuffy, suffocating.

  “To chop wood for you?”

  Flustered, she stammered out, “Yes. I am sure I can learn how. All you do is take an ax and swing it. I have seen you do it.”

  His laugh held no humor. “I will remember what you have said when you try.”

  Rachel gripped the back of the sofa, fingernails digging into the brocade material. She did not want to feel, not even this anger. Her emotions were what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. If she hadn’t thought herself in love with Tom, she would be with her family right now. She raised her chin and looked Nathan directly in the eye. “You will not be around to see me do anything or not do anything.”

  “Yes, I will. The only way I will take you to the farm is if you let me stay and help you get settled.”

  “No!” The very idea of Nathan being nearby sent her heartbeat slamming against her chest. The heat in the room soared, perspiration coating her upper lip.

  “Why not?” he asked in a lethally quiet voice that should have warned her of the man’s own suppressed fury.

  “Because—because I have to do this myself.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  Rachel stared into his stony features and felt as though she had hit a brick wall. She was tired of fighting, tired of not knowing what to do. She spun around, her back to him, as she stared out the window that afforded her a view of the front lawn. “Nothing.” She didn’t want him to see the fear she knew was stamped on her face. It would only confirm in his mind that she needed help—needed him.

  Suddenly he appeared in front of her, his movements so silent she hadn’t heard him approach. Startled, she stepped away and hit the back of the sofa. Trapped against him and a piece of furniture, she scoured the room for a way to escape.

  “If you believe that, Rachel, then you are not only lying to me but yourself as well.” So close his breath seared her face.

  She wanted him to understand. She didn’t have the strength to keep fighting him while trying to survive in this strange land. “I have to be able to do things for myself. All my life I have depended on others, and look what has happened. I have been stranded in a foreign country with little money and a deed to a piece of property, most of it swampland. I am ill-equipped to take care of myself now when I must.”

  “That’s my point exactly. You—”

  She lifted her hand to halt his words. “I have to start somewhere, or nothing will ever change. I have decided to start here and now.” She stamped her foot. “I cannot stay with your sister, and I cannot stay with you at your cabin.”

  He cupped her face between his palms, his work-roughened hands warm against her cheeks. “I cannot let you do this alone. It goes against everything I am. I have to be able to live with myself. I need to make sure you will be all right. Let me stay with you at Dalton Farm. Help you. Teach you everything you need to know to run the farm. Then I will leave. I promise.”

  The pain that laced his voice ripped at her composure. Rachel clutched the back of the sofa to steady herself and to keep herself from leaning into him and offering solace. She was so aware of the man inches from her that she could hardly breathe. Every time she did she inhaled his scent of horse and the outdoors.

  “How long will you stay?” She could not add to this man’s pain, not after what he had done for her and Faith.

  “Until you are settled in. Know what you are doing. A month. Perhaps longer.”

  “If I am going to live here, I cannot have people t
alking about us.”

  “You should have a farmhand. I will be that person and stay in the barn. That should take care of any talk. Besides, Maddy will be with you. You have to have someone help you with the spring planting at the very least.”

  “But you are a doctor, not a farmhand.”

  “I worked under my grandfather to learn how to run Pinecrest. I know enough to help you. I haven’t been able to help anyone as a physician for a long time.”

  A contraction about her chest pulled taut at the despair she glimpsed in his eyes. “You helped me.”

  “Not enough.”

  “I’m aware I could have died if it were not for you.”

  His features firmed into an expression that hid the effects of her words.

  She did not want to add to his hurt, but still, doubts nibbled at her. After her husband’s death at sea, she could recall feeling desolation at the unnecessary loss of a human being, but quickly she experienced a feeling of freedom when she realized she would not have to answer to him ever again. On the ship she had resolved never to let a man rule her destiny a second time. It would be hard, but she was determined to make it on her own and teach Faith how as well.

  “I shall agree to this arrangement as long as you allow me to pay you with a percentage of the crop. I cannot allow you to work for free, especially if you neglect your own land.”

  He backed away and made a low bow, sweeping his arm across his midsection. “We have a deal. One you will not regret.”

  The smile that brightened his face sent a warning through her body. She was already regretting her agreement to hire him. She might be wary of men and not want to get involved, but she knew it would be nearly impossible to ignore Nathan for long. Somehow she would have to find the strength to do the impossible.

  Seven

  Through the tall trees, Rachel glimpsed her new home. Expanses of grayish-brown wood flecked with small patches of white greeted her. As Nathan drove the cart closer over the rough ground and through high grass, more details of the framed and clapboarded structure came into view. The front door lay a few feet away from the opening into the house. Two gaping holes where windows used to be completed the façade facing Rachel.

  “It looks habitable,” Rachel said over the groans from Maddy. She glanced at her maid in the back. Maddy’s eyes were wide, her arms hugging her body. “We shall be fine here.” Rachel injected as much confidence as she could muster.

  “Yes ma’am, but it looks so, well, wild.”

  “That is because it is wild. When the hurricane hit in 1811, it changed the course of the river and much of the farmland became a swamp. The deed might say six hundred acres, but only two hundred at best are usable for planting.” Nathan brought the cart to a halt in front of the house and hopped to the ground then turned to help Rachel.

  After she passed Faith to Maddy, he put his hands around Rachel’s waist and lifted her to stand in front of him. She peered at him to tell him thank you, but the words crammed her throat. The brush of his gaze over her features made her knees go weak. Quickly she stepped away, her back pressed up against the cart.

  He reached over her shoulder to take Faith while Rachel remained frozen only inches from him. His nearness momentarily erased the picture of her new home from her mind to be replaced with one of Nathan. His broad chest covered in a white lawn shirt. His muscular arms that had so effortlessly assisted her from the cart, the stubble of his dark beard because he hadn’t shaven that morn, as was his practice, filled her vision. Until he presented her with Faith, cradled in his large hands.

  A smile that twinkled in his eyes spread across his face. “At least she is not crying for food…yet.”

  “Give her time. She will.” Rachel settled her baby against her then started for the house while Nathan helped Maddy down.

  Rachel stepped up into her new home. Her breath quickened as she surveyed the area before her, the scent of dust and something rotten assailing her nostrils. Faith began to stir in her arms. She rocked her daughter while she paced farther into the large room with a fireplace at one end and two rooms at the other. One door was still hanging while the other was gone, nowhere to be seen. A crude staircase with missing steps led upward into a loft. The place, devoid of furniture, mocked her dreams of a new life in America.

  “Ma’am? Where do we start?” Maddy’s quavering voice penetrated Rachel’s stunned mind.

  She rotated toward her maid and gave her Faith. “First, I shall check the rest of this place, then we shall unload our possessions and start cleaning. Take Faith and find a place for her to sleep peacefully and safely.”

  Maddy nodded, her eyes still round as they skimmed over the dirt on the wooden-planked floor.

  While her maid backed toward the entrance, Rachel swung around, refusing to see the grime. But nothing she did could block the smell of death emanating from the room with the door cracked open a few inches. Light poured into the house from where the windows were at one time. She crossed the large main room to see what was causing the vile odor. No doubt an animal had wandered in here and died. The prospects didn’t set well with her, but she had better get used to being in the middle of nowhere with nature at her doorstep. She couldn’t allow dead animals to make her squeamish. She needed to prove to Nathan she could do this.

  She gripped the door and pushed it wide open then entered.

  And screamed.

  The bloodcurdling shriek rent the air, and Nathan nearly dropped the crate he had taken from the cart. He shoved it back in place and raced toward the house. His heartbeat galloped as though it were a runaway horse. He barely saw Maddy standing off to the side outside the entrance with Faith in her arms. All he could focus on was Rachel’s scream and then dead quiet.

  Bursting into the house, he saw her standing as though she were preserved in a block of ice brought down from the mountains. Then suddenly she whirled about and flew out of the bedchamber and straight into his embrace. Her body quaked against his.

  “Rachel, what’s wrong?”

  She shook even harder, wrapping her arms around him while she buried her face against his chest.

  The aroma of death invaded the house. “Rachel? Is there a dead animal in there?” He wanted to go look, but she clutched him with such fierceness he was reluctant to leave her.

  Finally she leaned back to look up at him. Fright glazed her eyes. All color was faded from her features, her bonnet askew from pressing herself into him. She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out.

  “Let me go look.” Nathan tried to step away, but her fingers dug into his upper arms.

  “No. Don’t leave me. Dead”—she waved her hand toward the room—“man.”

  “Dead man?”

  She nodded. “He is…” She squeezed her eyes closed and shuddered.

  “Stay here. I will take care of it.” At the doorway, he glanced back at her. “Better yet, go outside with Maddy.”

  After she hastened out of the house, he went into the room. No matter how many times he smelled a dead body, the odor nauseated him. He covered his nose and mouth and stepped closer to the man lying on the floor with a gunshot wound to his chest and his face badly beaten. He lifted the arm nearest him and estimated by the condition of the body the man had died a day or so before. Studying the craggy face, weathered by the hot South Carolina sun, Nathan didn’t know who the person was, but he had seen him before in Charleston. The fact he was found on Rachel’s land did not bode well for them, especially since it was obvious the man had been murdered.

  “A dead man, Mrs. Gordon!” Maddy rocked back on her heels then forward. “ ’Tis not good, not good at all.”

  Rachel sat on a log and clutched her daughter to her in case whoever killed that man came back. She scouted the area for a place she could hide with Faith. Perhaps the barn. It wasn’t too far away. Then she spied its roof with big holes in it and boards missing on the sides.

  “What are we going to do?” Maddy wailed, startling Rachel and i
nterrupting her plans to hide.

  “I don’t know. He looked mean. He looked…” A picture of the dead man overtook her thoughts. A black beard, straggly, oily black hair, beaten, pock-marked face, clothes of a laborer, dirty, torn, with patches on them, no shoes, his feet clad in stockings. But the worst part was the large blood-crusted hole in his chest. She had never seen a man dead from a gunshot. She balled her hands to keep them from trembling, but that did little to stop the tremors from taking over her body.

  When Nathan appeared in the doorway, a grim expression on his face, she stared at him. She gulped and tried to form a coherent question, but her thoughts jumbled together.

  “I saw this man in Charleston once a few weeks back, but I don’t know his name,” he said, stepping down from the house and covering the short distance to Rachel. “He got into a fist fight with another man. It started in the tavern and spilled over into the street.”

  “Do you think that man killed him? Why did he leave him here? What are we going to do with the body?” Questions tumbled from Rachel in a breathless rush.

  “I will need to contact the constable about this.”

  “You cannot leave me alone with that body. Please.”

  “No. No.” He squatted in front of her, his gaze beseeching her to look at him. “I will remove the body to the barn. I will not leave you alone with him.”

  “Then how are you going to get the constable?”

  “Sarah and John are coming today.”

  Rachel shot to her feet, still holding Faith against her. “I cannot receive guests. Look at the house. There is a dead man inside. I—”

  Silencing her words with a light press of his forefinger to her lips, Nathan grinned. “They are coming to help. And to bring the ox.”

  Rachel glanced at the cart being pulled by Nathan’s horse then back at him. “Oh. To help? I cannot ask them to do that. I think a whole army might not be able to make this place…” She swallowed the rest of the words. She was admitting defeat before she even tried, but how could she stay when a dead man had been in her house?