Where The Heart Is

by Sheridon Smythe

  Noah paused in handing him the pitchfork, his jaw set. “Rico needed the exercise, and I can't seem to find the time, so you did me a favor. You'll accept pay or you won't work."

  "I—” Elliot clamped his mouth shut as an image of Lori's pensive, pale face popped into mind. A child her age should be playing with dolls, or a toy of some kind. He'd also noticed the boys needed a hair cut, and that Natalie's dress had worn thin.

  They needed a milk cow. He could use the extra money for a number of things.

  Swallowing his pride, he reached for the pitchfork. “All right. It's a deal.” As they began to work in harmony, Elliot suddenly paused to add, “And if your boy doesn't show up, I'll take the job for however long I'll be in town, if it's all right with you."

  Noah reached for his hand and gave it a hearty shake, but he was clearly puzzled. “Don't understand why a man of your means would want to muck stalls, but you've got the job."

  He hesitated. He knew Noah to be an honest, trustworthy man from what little time he'd spent with him, but he was also Marla's husband, and Marla and Natalie were friends. He couldn't take any chances. Forcing a dry chuckle, he recited the old cliché his grandfather used to say, “Idle hands make the devil's work.” And in his case, it was true. His hands wanted to be all over Natalie. He doubted mucking stalls would change his mind about that.

  "She can be stubborn as a mule sometimes,” Noah commented out of the blue.

  Elliot stopped mucking to look at Noah in confusion. What was the man talking about? “Pardon me?"

  Noah took his pitchfork and spread the pile of hay around in the stall before answering. “Natalie Polk. She can be awful stubborn when she sets her mind to something."

  Ah, he thought. The man was astute—and obviously had heard the news. “So can I,” he muttered, throwing a fork full of hay with enough force to land it against the far wall of stall. “So can I."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER NINE

  "I refuse to take charity from that black-hearted, pretentious—” Uttering a low, frustrated squeal, Natalie swept her hand over the pile on the table. A jug of honey, a sack of flour, bacon, sugar—no, Elliot was not going to buy their respect nor ease his conscience!

  For the last few days, she had steadily stockpiled the items, waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw the gifts back into his face and tell him exactly what she thought of his bribes.

  If only she could catch him at his dirty deeds! The ornery man seemed to know when she was out in the garden, in the attic, or gone to town.

  "But Natty, we need—"

  Natalie sliced her hand through the air, effectively cutting off Jo's entreaty. “No, we do not need anything from Mr. Montgomery! How can you say that, knowing he's closing the orphanage?"

  "Well, I—"

  "He's trying to buy us, Jo! Look at these things. They're bribes."

  "I think you're wrong about Mr. Montgomery. He wants the best for us—and for you."

  Natalie's eyes stretched wide. She gazed at Jo in open horror. “The best for us? How would he know what's best for us?” she demanded. She couldn't believe this was happening!

  Before Jo could reply, Lori bounced into the kitchen with more energy than Natalie had seen in weeks. She clutched a doll tightly in her arms, her face glowing.

  Groaning at her delighted expression, Natalie cursed Elliot beneath her breath.

  "Look, Natty, Mr. Montgomery brought me a doll! He's nice, ain't he? And he's gonna find me a nice ma and pa, too.” She sidled up to her and held out the doll for her inspection. “You reckon my new ma and pa will buy me a pony? Hickory has one."

  Natalie opened her mouth to blast Elliot for raising a little girl's hopes, but she caught Jo's warning look in time. No, she couldn't spoil Lori's dreams, and she couldn't spread her resentment to the children. It was bad enough that she tried to force Jo to change her opinion.

  Feeling ashamed, she ruffled Lori's hair. “Yes, it's a nice doll, and I'm sure your new ma and pa—” she choked on the lie—"will buy you a pony.” Inwardly she seethed with mounting anger. How dare Elliot raise their hopes this way? Did he truly believe folks would crowd the porch begging to adopt the orphans of Ivy House?

  As if to mock her thoughts, a knock sounded at the door. Frowning, she made as if to answer it. “I wonder who that could be?” she mused. Behind her, Jo cleared her throat loudly and shuffled her boots along the floor. Natalie froze in the middle of the room. “Jo?"

  "It's likely to be Mr. Montgomery. When he brought Lori the doll, he said he'd be back."

  "You didn't invite him to dinner?” Feeling irrationally betrayed, she turned to look at Jo. “Did you?"

  Jo twisted the apron in her hands, her face flaming. “You didn't give me a chance to tell you, Natty. Mr. Montgomery said he was coming back to finish the inspection."

  "Jo!” Natalie's mouth opened and closed in disbelief. “You know we can't let him—"

  "Let me what?” Elliot asked from the doorway.

  Looking tanned and handsome, he gave her a heated once over with eyes far too knowing before his gaze settled on her glowering face. Brett stood beside him wearing a suspiciously innocent expression.

  He must have let Elliot in, Natalie thought with fresh amazement. Had they all turned against her? It seemed so, but why? Didn't they realize what losing Ivy House meant? They would have no home, unless a miracle happened and they found couples willing to adopt half-grown children! It hadn't happened in the years they'd lived at Ivy House, so it wasn't likely it would happen now. What cruel game was Elliot playing now? Didn't he know the heartache he was causing?

  Aching inside for the children, she gathered her strength for the battle ahead. He would not continue his cruel games, and he could not inspect the house. She would find a way to halt both his intentions or die trying.

  Clearing her throat, she turned a withering gaze in his direction as if they'd never kissed. “I'm afraid you caught us at a bad time, Mr. Montgomery. You'll have to come back later.” She walked stiffly to the table and gestured to the items. “And you'll have to take these with you. I can't accept them."

  Elliot spoke for the first time, his voice soft and edged with anger. “I didn't bring them for you. I brought them for the children."

  She stiffened. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her face. “The children don't need them either. We've got plenty of food, so this will go to waste.” It was a horrible lie, but pride drove her.

  Brett didn't know the meaning of the word. “But Natty, I was looking forward to spreading some of that honey on one of Jo's biscuits,” he grumbled.

  "I like honey, too,” Lori added with a plea in her voice. “I thought you liked honey, Natty! You said the other day—"

  "Lori, isn't it your turn to feed the chickens?” Natalie gave her a meaningful push in the direction of the back door. Lori shuffled out reluctantly. A small jerk of Natalie's head prompted Jo to disappear. She took a protesting Brett with her.

  When they were alone in the kitchen, she folded her hands before her and faced Elliot. Their gazes clashed. She lost her breath at the naked want in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

  Heart suddenly pounding, she inhaled deeply, praying he wouldn't notice how much he affected her. “I know what you're trying to do and it might work with the children, but it won't work with me.” She held her ground as he closed the space between them. Her breath hitched when he lifted a hand to cup her face.

  "What am I trying to do, Natalie?” he questioned softly as he gazed into her eyes.

  She felt the rough pads of his fingers caress her skin, her mind absently registering the different texture. The last time he'd touched her, she hadn't noticed the calluses. She restrained the urge to grab his hand and explore the change for herself.

  What was she thinking? She started to lick her dry lips but stopped the motion abruptly as his gaze dipped to her mouth. “You're—You're
trying to ease your conscience by bringing this stuff.” His low chuckle made her bones go soft. She stiffened her spine.

  "So I'm easing my conscience, am I? Just like I kissed you to soften the blow. Must I always have a motive for everything I do?” Ever so slowly his fingers filtered through her hair and over her ear. He began to pull her close.

  She jerked back, her voice sharp to stop its trembling. “Don't touch me! I won't fall for your tricks again, Elliot!” He let her go so abruptly she stumbled backward. She caught herself against the edge of the table. Yep, she'd made him mad. The realization sent a surge of victory into her heart. Maybe now he'd stop—stop tempting her. “I want you to leave,” she declared bravely.

  The amusement had faded from his eyes, leaving them as unpredictable as the weather. Natalie suppressed a shiver. She suspected that Elliot was a formidable foe when challenged.

  "I'll leave,” he agreed, then added almost casually, “When I finish my inspection."

  To her horror, he turned on his heel and made for the stairs. She rushed after him, catching up with him as his foot landed on the first stair. “Where—where do you think you're going?” she demanded, hurrying to block his way. Her heart sank when she saw the deepening suspicion in his eyes.

  "I'm going to look around upstairs."

  "Why?” she asked breathlessly. Stall him, her mind commanded. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. “It's just a few bedrooms...” He continued to wait patiently for her to move. Natalie grew desperate. He could not see the upstairs!

  Finally, her paralyzed brain began to function. She stumbled backward up the stairs, then allowed herself to fall on her rump. She clutched her ankle and cried out, both relieved and ashamed when she saw how quickly his bland expression turned to one of genuine concern.

  "Here, let me see.” He knelt before her on the stairs.

  Gentle, prodding fingers explored her ankle. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sensations his touched caused. Heat, fierce and stunning, swept into her bloodstream and coursed through her body, making her ache in strange, forbidden places. Feigning an injured ankle had been a bad idea, she thought in dismay. A very bad idea.

  "I don't see any swelling. Try to stand.” He grabbed her arms and gently helped her to her feet.

  With her guilty gaze lowered, Natalie pretended to put her weight on her ankle before she winced and sank to the stairs. “It hurts. Oh—!” Instinctively, she gripped his shoulders as he swung her into his strong arms and carried her to the parlor.

  She tried to breathe softly; their faces were only inches apart. Helplessly, she stared at the strong profile of his jaw, then trailed her gaze to his lips. Firm, yet soft, and oh-so passionate. When he kissed her, she felt as if she were drowning in a soft cloud of cotton, that with little effort she could lean into him and make their hearts beat as one.

  She gave her head a little shake to dispel her disloyal and totally ridiculous thoughts, but a telling sigh escaped her as he lowered her to the sofa.

  He stilled with his arms holding her and his face close to hers. She could see the darker rings of blue around his pupils—and the sudden flare of fire in the center of his eyes.

  She caught her breath and held it.

  "Stop fighting me, Natalie."

  The warmth of his breath tingled over her face. Was he talking about the orphanage, or them? she wondered, unable to look away from the deep intensity of his gaze. She sought an answer that would cover both meanings. “I have to.” For the children, she must fight him; for herself, she had to fight him. Elliot was ruthless—why else would he continuously ignore the fact that he was an engaged man? He shouldn't be here, looking at her as if—as if he could devour her! In return, she should be thinking about poor Suetta, and how that woman would feel if she discovered how faithless her fiancee was!

  "Suetta—” she began desperately, only to find her mouth sealed with his. Her heart thundered as he kissed her silent. When he broke the kiss, she was breathing so rapidly she thought her chest would explode. What had she been thinking? Something about—

  "Suetta,” he announced softly, “is gone."

  "Gone?” Natalie struggled to a sitting position, relieved and bereft when his arms dropped away. “Suetta's gone? Where? Why?” Had she found out? Lord, what must Suetta think of her?

  He drifted to the cold fireplace and propped a foot on the hearth. He kept his back to her. “She left town the day after she arrived. She won't be back."

  She felt ashamed as hope leaped in her breast. She quickly squashed it, wishing he'd turn around so that she could see his face. Was he happy? Sad? Clenching her hands in frustration, she asked, “But you'll be meeting her in Nashville?” Stopping hoping, Natalie, of course he would—

  "No. We broke the engagement. It's over."

  She didn't believe him. How could she, after what she'd heard outside the hotel room? Suetta had declared her love quite passionately! Yet ... yet he'd kissed her on the porch as if he never wanted to let her go.

  Physical attraction, she murmured firmly. According to Mrs. Boone, a man didn't care about the harbor itself, as long as he could dock his ship.

  "We ... had a disagreement."

  About the orphanage, Natalie thought with certainty. Suetta had all but stated she wanted Ivy House for a summer home. Did this mean that he had refused to go along with his fiancee? She slowly unclenched her fingers as hope began to blossom in her heart. Until this moment, she hadn't realized how badly she wanted to believe in Elliot's goodness.

  "After a long discussion, we decided we weren't suited for one another. I think I've known for a while."

  The heavy sigh that followed his announcement tugged at her heart. She braced herself against it. It was possible he lied, and there was still the matter of Ivy House. She couldn't just sweep it under the rug because she was falling in love—

  "Oh!"

  Elliot swung around. “What's wrong?"

  She was certain she'd turned pale. She couldn't be falling in love with him! Why, it was the most hopeless situation she could imagine for herself—much worse than losing Ivy House! She swallowed hard, praying her expression didn't give her away. “I—I was just expressing my sympathy,” she stumbled out. “You and Suetta seemed so ... so suited to one another.” And they had, she thought in despair. The realization made her own discovery seem all the more hopeless.

  "I'm surprised Marla didn't tell you. She sold Suetta the ticket."

  "My Marla?” Natalie squeaked.

  He smiled slightly. “Is there more than one Marla that works at the Thompson Mercantile?” he teased. He waved his hand over his stomach to outline a burgeoning belly. “That Marla?"

  She blushed, feeling irrationally lighthearted. “Yes, that's the same one.” The same Marla she intended to have a firm talk with. Not for a second did she consider that Marla had simply forgotten to tell her about Suetta's leaving.

  Lost in her musings, she jolted to the present as Elliot's shadow swept past her. She jerked her head up. “Where are you going?"

  He paused and turned, one hand thrust deep in his pocket. His gaze lingered caressingly on her flushed cheeks. “I'm going to finish my inspection,” he stated casually.

  "No! You can't—Jo's taking a bath upstairs.” Her hasty fabrication back-fired when over her shoulder, she saw Jo appear in the parlor doorway. But Jo must have overheard her desperate comment, for she skidded to a halt and quickly back-peddled out of sight, no doubt urged on by the look of horror on Natalie's face. Elliot frowned, turning his head to follow her line of vision.

  The doorway was blessedly empty.

  She let out a slow, shaky breath. That was close! “Maybe you could save the inspection for another time?” she queried with studied innocence. Beneath the folds of her dress, she crossed her fingers. She'd never told so many fibs in all her born days!

  After a moment's hesitation, he said, “I don't suppose I have a choice.” He glanced at her ankle. “Maybe we can plan a picnic when y
our ankle heals sufficiently."

  "We?” Natalie repeated.

  His grin was so wicked it made her toes curl inside her slippers.

  "We—as in you and the children. I wanted to spend time with them, remember? I thought a picnic would be nice while the weather's still warm."

  Disheartened at the reminder, she shrugged to hide her dismay. Not for the first time, she was appalled at the way she kept forgetting his true reason for being in Chattanooga. “They would enjoy it."

  He laughed at her disgusted tone.

  Natalie grabbed the beautiful pillow Lori had been working on and threw it at him.

  * * * *

  Marla tried to read through the paper, but it was too thick. She sidled around the counter and came up behind Elliot, unabashedly trying to peer over his shoulder. He was too tall. Smothering a growl of frustration, she moved a little to the side and craned her neck.

  His arm was in the way.

  She let out a shriek as he suddenly whooped with joy and thrust the letter into her hands. Before she could read the first word, he told her everything.

  "Warren was successful! We need three more doll houses by the end of the week,” he announced with a boyish grin. “He says the stores are fighting over who's going to get the bid. A bid, Marla! Do you know what that means?” Before she could begin to guess, he continued, his excitement contagious, “It means the doll houses are going to sell for a small fortune! I never dreamed they'd be this successful."

  Marla knew someone who did dream. Natalie was going to be one very happy woman when she heard the news. She thrust the letter into his hands. “Mind the store for me, will ya? Noah should be back any minute. I'm going to tell them—"

  "Them?” Elliot's brows rose in question. “Them?"

  "I mean him—Mr. Smith,” she quickly corrected, breathing a sigh of relief when his brow cleared. “He'll be delirious, I'm sure."

  "I'd like to meet him."

  She paused at the door. “It's not possible."

  "Will you ask him?” he persisted.

  Without turning around, she nodded. She suspected she looked mighty guilty, because she felt guilty. “I'll ask him, but don't hold your breath. You might suffocate."