Her conscience told her she was a fool. This was no way to send a man packing. The conflict in her heart was clouding her reasoning. She should put on her dowdiest housedress and treat him with cool courtesy tonight and not go downstairs in the morning until he had gone.
But she knew she couldn’t do that. And here she was, wearing the gown he had requested that she wear a week ago.
Before she could change her mind, she strode from the room and down the stairs.
Harry rose when she entered the parlor, and his eager smile sent a thrill through her. His eyes glowed as he took her hands.
“Sadie, you look wonderful.”
Her lips trembled as she gazed up at him. All she could get out was a whispered “Thank you.”
Dinner was a bit strained at first, but Zeke and Tallie livened things up. They insisted on serving the two in the dining room as they did every evening. They were on familiar terms with Harry now, and Zeke soon had them both laughing with his comments. Tallie’s motherly instincts were at the forefront.
“You eat up, Mr. Harry. You got a long trip ahead of you tomorrow.” She brought the platter of meat to him, her meaning unmistakable. If Harry didn’t take seconds, she would be insulted.
“Yes, Tallie. I’ll miss your scrumptious cooking.” He speared a slab of roast beef with the serving fork.
Tallie looked at her husband. “Zeke, get some hot gravy for Mr. Harry.”
“This is fine,” Harry said, reaching for the china gravy boat, but Zeke snatched it up before he could lift it.
“Oh, no, Mr. Harry. That gravy’s cold. You need hot gravy for my Tallie’s biscuits and roast beef.”
He hurried toward the kitchen. Harry looked at Sadie and shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll miss the service, too.”
“Spoiled you, have we?” Sadie asked.
“I’ll say. Things were never like this on board ship.”
“You got people to look after you in Kentucky?” Tallie asked.
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean. . .family?”
“Slave folks.”
“No, Tallie, I don’t. No kinfolk there, either.”
“Well, what you want to live in Kentucky for?” Tallie shook her head.
When they were alone in the parlor half an hour later, Sadie’s nerves assailed her. She sat in a chair, and Harry paced the room slowly, examining all the paintings once more and touching the knickknacks on the mantel.
“I am glad we have this evening together,” Harry said, staring down into the empty fireplace, not looking at her.
“So am I.”
He turned and smiled at her. “That gown is magnificent on you. Thank you for wearing it.”
“You’re welcome.” Sadie swallowed hard. There were many things she wished to say, but she wasn’t sure she could voice any of them. When she inhaled, her chest hurt, so she kept quiet.
Harry went to the settee and sat down facing her. “Sadie, I want to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed my stay here.”
“Oh, that’s. . .there’s no need.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been wonderful, all of you.”
“Harry, we should be thanking you for staying. You’ve helped us in so many ways!”
He sighed. “I hate to leave, but I know the time has come. Sadie, I can’t go without telling you how much I admire you.”
She shifted uneasily in her chair. This was what she wanted to hear, but it only brought more turmoil to her heart. He admired her! And yet she was a lying hypocrite.
Harry went on quickly. “I know you’re a modest woman, but your faithfulness and tenacity are undeniable. I’ve seen how much this farm means to you. You’ve run it admirably, even during this time of stress and illness. Your family—and I’m including Zeke and Tallie and Pax in that—comes first with you. I believe you’ve broken my heart because of that, and I’m not sure why.”
Sadie caught her breath and stared down at the figured carpet. “Harry, I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know that. I just wish you could be open with me and tell me all your troubles. I can only think I could help you change things.”
Sadie felt a crushing weight on her chest. If only she could do that! He might be right—so far he’d been right about most things. Maybe if she told him now, he could help her with the legal and social morass she knew would envelop her soon.
A montage of images flashed through her mind. It was possible she could be evicted from her family home. She might be forced to flee, penniless and without hope, and be separated from her beloved family servants. The thing that frightened her most, the one she didn’t dare mention even to Tallie, was that she might be arrested. Yes, she and Zeke and Tallie might all be charged with. . .something, she wasn’t sure what, but a vague certainty that they had broken multiple laws of the Commonwealth lurked in the back of her mind.
Harry left his seat and knelt beside her chair.
“You must know that I love you.”
She drew in a shaky breath and avoided looking at him. If she gazed into those earnest brown eyes, she would be lost.
She felt his warm, strong hand cover hers.
“Sadie, tell me you love me, too.”
As she struggled for her answer, tears welled in her eyes. He slid his arm around her.
“Sadie, dearest, look at me.”
Slowly she turned her head. “Harry.” It was all she could get out, and even that was a little squeak. Her heart raced, and his melting brown eyes had the effect she’d known they would have.
“I’m going to do one of three things,” Harry said.
“What?” she managed.
“Either I’m going to run up those stairs and speak to your father—”
“No! You mustn’t.”
Harry frowned. “All right then.” He took a deep breath. “All right, I’m going to do one of two things. Either I’m going to kiss you, or you’re going to tell me to leave now, and I won’t see you again.”
She stared at him.
“Sadie?”
“I. . .”
“It’s up to you.”
“I don’t want you to leave, but—”
Harry didn’t wait for her to finish. He drew her up out of her chair, and his lips found hers. Sadie tensed for an instant. Had she given the wrong answer?
No, her heart told her. You love him. This is the right thing.
She let him draw her closer, reveling in the joy his touch brought her. It was far beyond her expectations or imaginations, and she wanted the moment to last forever. He held her in his arms and showered soft kisses along her temple, to the corner of her eye.
“Sadie, I love you so much.”
She gulped for air, knowing that all she needed to say was two words: Don’t leave.
And then what? Would he be embroiled in their troubles, too? Or would he betray them when he found out the truth? The joy that had flooded her a moment ago was overcome by guilt, and she pushed him away reluctantly.
“Harry, we mustn’t. You know my father is. . .” She sobbed. “His condition is very serious.”
“Yes. Yes, I know.”
“I do love you, Harry, but—” As triumph leaped into his eyes, she pressed her hands against the front of his shirt to keep him from sweeping her into his embrace again. “But that doesn’t change anything.”
“I don’t understand. It should change everything.”
She sighed. “Please respect my wishes. You need to leave in the morning. That’s the way it is right now. There are things I have to face on my own.”
He studied her face, and Sadie made herself return his gaze. Her heart hammered, and she longed to nestle against his chest again and feel safe, but that would be a false security.
At last he stood back, his head bowed. “All right. I’ve done everything I know how to do. But tell me, Sadie. If I were to come back, say in the spring, would things be different?”
Her heart lurched. She hadn’t considered this possibility. Would
she even be here next spring?
“Sadie?”
“It’s. . .possible.” She looked up at him. He was smiling. He grasped her hands and lifted them to his lips.
“In the spring, then, when the mountains are passable.”
❧
Harry went to the barn with Zeke and Pax at dawn to tend the livestock. While the father and son fed the horses, Harry tied his pack to the cantle of his saddle and gave Pepper a grooming.
His heart was heavy. He didn’t want to ride back to Kentucky and leave Sadie behind. He would spend all winter pining for her. She had admitted she loved him. He smiled at that. It was a start, but her father needed her here. Harry was certain now that it was Oliver’s health that was weighing her down. She didn’t feel she could make a commitment to him while her father was so ill, and she felt bound to the farm and her family.
Harry sighed and fastened a lead rope to Pepper’s halter. Maybe he was too aggressive last night, but at least it had brought a declaration from her. He could live all winter on that if he had to. She loved him. She wasn’t as ready to start a new life as he was. He could wait. He didn’t know what would come of it in the future, but one thing he knew for sure: He couldn’t ride off and forget her. He would hold the memory of Sadie in his heart all winter and come back in the spring to see if she was ready for his suit.
“You sure you’ll be all right alone with those mares, Mr. Harry?” Pax asked him, leaning against a post between the stalls.
Harry smiled. Pax would love it if he offered to take him with him to Kentucky. He wouldn’t mind the company himself, but he was sure the boy would get homesick before they left the Shenandoah Valley, and Tallie wouldn’t abide the idea of her youngest leaving home so early. Harry had learned that all four of her daughters lived at least a day’s ride away, and only Pax and his married brother, Ephraim, were close enough now for Tallie to spoil them. No, she wouldn’t let the youngest go easily.
“I’ll be fine, Pax. They’re well-behaved horses. You folks have taught them good manners.”
“You gonna lead them all, suh?”
“Most likely your pa will help me tie the lead ropes into a string. I don’t expect much trouble.”
“What if a Injun tries to steal them while you’re sleepin’ at night?”
“Not too many Indians left where I’m headed, son. You’d have to go a little farther west for that.”
Pax was disappointed, he could tell.
“How’s your head feel?” Harry asked.
“Fine, suh. Pa said I could ride today.”
Harry nodded. “Glad to hear it. You be good now and help your pa get things ready for winter.”
Pax scuffed his toe in the straw on the barn floor. “Yes, suh. We gonna miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” He ruffled the boy’s woolly hair. “You want to take Pepper to the water trough for me?”
Pax grinned and hurried to take Pepper out into the barnyard. Harry followed him. He took a deep breath and looked toward the house. Would Sadie show herself this morning? He’d promised Tallie he’d eat breakfast in the kitchen before leaving.
A flash of color caught his eye, and he saw a figure disappearing among the trees at the side of the house toward the river, beyond the vegetable garden. It was a slender woman in a full mulberry-colored skirt. It had to be Sadie!
He stepped forward eagerly then thought to call to Pax, “Just put him away when he’s finished drinking. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Pax waved his acknowledgment, and Harry hurried toward where he had seen her. He found a narrow path, leading between the apple trees and beyond. He followed it and mounted a gentle knoll. At its crest he stopped in surprise. A burial plot lay on the south slope, overlooking the river. Perhaps twenty stone grave markers were in it, and a rough rail fence bounded the area. In the middle, kneeling before a wooden cross, was Sadie.
Eleven
Harry squinted at the headstone nearest her. Her mother’s grave. Then what was the cross beside it for? They had only learned of Tenley’s death a few weeks ago. Zeke and Sadie had both spoken of the letter Oliver received from Tenley’s commander. Neither had said a word about his remains being received. Surely Sadie’s brother couldn’t be buried here in Virginia.
But the earth where she knelt was just growing up in tender grass, and he could see that the grave was much newer than Mrs. McEwan’s.
The obvious truth broke on him, but Harry refused to believe it. Against his will, the many comments Zeke had dropped flooded his memory.
Mr. Oliver is resting. Mr. Oliver wasn’t disturbed by the storm. Mr. Oliver is no better today, but no worse.
It couldn’t be. Sadie wouldn’t lie to him so blatantly. He tried to recall the things she had said about her father, and suddenly he was sure. Her statements that she couldn’t go on living as she was, and her cryptic remark about saying one thing and living another. . .it all made sense now.
He wanted to go to her, but the incredulity he felt brought on a heavy dread. Did he really want to know the truth? That would mean confronting the woman he loved. Harry didn’t want to accuse people he had believed to be his closest friends of lying to him. But then, wasn’t that why she hadn’t told him? She didn’t want to face that kind of chaos, either. Perhaps they would all be better off if he left without saying a word.
He needed time to think. He started to turn away, wondering if he could escape without Sadie knowing he had seen her, but at that moment she rose and turned around.
She gasped and clutched her hands together at her breast, staring at him. Her lips were parted, and the anguish he saw in her eyes stabbed through the dull pain that had encased him.
She knew he had figured it out; his expression must have revealed it. There was no way to make her believe otherwise. Harry wished he weren’t so transparent.
He took a few steps forward, and she met him at the low gate.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.
She swallowed hard then caught a ragged breath. She looked at him then away. “Tell you what?”
Anger spouted up inside him so suddenly that it shocked him. “Oh, stop it, Sadie. Your father’s dead. He’s been dead for weeks, hasn’t he? If anyone had told me you would do this, I’d have called him out. You are the last person on earth I would expect to lie to me, the very last.” He ignored the tears in her eyes. “I begged you to tell me what was wrong. Why, Sadie? Why couldn’t you trust me?”
She dashed tears from her eyes with one hand. “I wanted to, but I was so afraid.”
“Afraid of me?”
“We didn’t know you well, not at first. How could I tell if you were trustworthy? I’d only met you once.”
“Why should that matter? Sadie, I heard Zeke tell your neighbors your father was alive. What is going on? Why on earth would you try to hide his death? It makes no sense at all.”
She sobbed into her hand, turning partly away from him. “When he died, we had to bury him. Ordinarily we’d have sent for the preacher, but the reverend had left shortly before on his circuit. It would have taken Zeke a week or more to catch him. We couldn’t wait. It was so hot. We couldn’t wait.”
She was shaking, and Harry’s love for her struggled against the outrage he felt.
“Even so. . .”
“And then we got to worrying about the property. You see, my father had left his estate to Tenley, but with Tenley dead we weren’t sure what would happen to us.”
Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I. . .Zeke and Tallie and I aren’t sure whether I’ll be allowed to inherit the farm. Zeke recalled the Widow Scott. When her husband died, their farm went to his cousin’s son, and she was turned out. We didn’t know what would become of us if I lost the farm, and. . .well, when you came, Zeke said something about Papa, and you thought he meant. . .”
“You should have seen a lawyer.”
She shook her head hopelessly. “I don’t know any lawyers, Harry. I
wouldn’t even know where to find one.” She looked off downriver. “Washington, maybe? There was no one within several days’ journey who could issue a death certificate.”
“What do your neighbors do when somebody dies? What did your father do when your mother died?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” She slumped against the low fence, holding on to the top rail and weeping.
“I can’t believe you lied about it. Just because you couldn’t get a doctor or a preacher—” Harry shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs. “I can’t believe you all conspired against me. Even Pax? I love that kid. How could he not spill it to me?”
Sadie winced. “Pax is very loyal to this family.”
“But Tallie. There’s not a dishonest bone in her body.”
“We were afraid, Harry. We wanted to tell you. Tallie has been distraught over this, but we were afraid.”
“I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“We didn’t know that then. Don’t you see? When you arrived, we thought it was just for a day, and Zeke thought it would be best to say nothing and let you assume Papa was ill. We didn’t know but what you’d tell someone, and the law would come and evict us all. But when you stayed and we got to know you, it was too late. We couldn’t tell anyone then that he was dead. How would that look? It just got worse and worse the longer you stayed, even though we were thankful you came, and we. . .grew to love you.” She hid her face then, sobbing uncontrollably.
“What you did was foolish, Sadie.” It came out more harshly than he’d intended, and she jerked her chin up.
“Don’t speak to me in that tone, sir, or I shall have to ask you to leave at once.”
He took a deep breath. “No need. I was just leaving anyway.”
He walked quickly over the knoll and through the orchard. The confusion in his mind was nearly as painful as the sorrow in his heart. He ought to be holding her in his arms this moment, but he couldn’t make himself turn back. She had lied to him, not once, but many times. He’d thought he knew her, but apparently not.
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