He continued to advance. “I’d tell you to throw him back in, but I’m a man. I guess women know what they want.” He spread his arms across the hallway and leaned into her. “But explain to me what makes Douglas such a good husband?”
She ducked under his arm and moved to a safe distance in the cow pen. “He comes from a good family. He’s well educated, and he has a promising future as a professor.”
“Those are impressive traits.” He shook his head. “I doubt if I could compete against such a man.”
Cory rolled her eyes. “This is where you tell me you’re a lawyer.”
“You’re forgetting the part about a good family.”
“You said the Yoders were Quakers. There can’t be any scandal there.” She paused as she recalled part of his confession. “You said something about a blacksmith.”
“Mr. Yoder is a blacksmith. I worked summers in his shop.”
Cory shook her head in disbelief. “That’s how you ended up so big and strong.” She also recalled something else. The runaway slave was trained as a blacksmith. His slave, Noah.
Tyler grinned. “You think I’m big and strong?”
He was a slave owner. The heat of his proximity turned cold. “It doesn’t matter. The only man I’m interested in is Mr. Raymond.”
“Are you going to tell him about our lovemaking in the barn?”
Cory gasped. “We didn’t make love! It was a kiss.”
Tyler leaned in close. “When Douglas kisses you, do you respond the way you did last night?”
“No!” Cory automatically answered. “I mean, he hasn’t kissed me.”
“What?”
She squared her shoulders. “He’s a gentleman.”
“A fool,” he said. “A man doesn’t go through all the tea sipping and hand holding for nothing.”
She scowled. “Is a woman’s companionship so boring there must be some physical reward at the end of the evening?”
“It helps.”
Cory’s temper took off like an angry hornet. “Well, if you think I’m going to bare my breast and wiggle my hips to keep your attention, you’re wrong, Mr. Montgomery. There will be no repeat of last night’s mistake. You can find some other innocent girl and seduce her into a kiss.”
“Innocent girl?” He ran his finger along her jawline and lifted her chin so her gaze met his. “Honey, I could take lessons from you in seduction.”
She jerked away. “I may have given you the wrong impression, but let me make this clear. I won’t compromise my principles for any man, especially a slave owner.”
“But if I wasn’t a slave owner, you’d consider me for a beau?”
“I’d want to know you better, and that would involve silly tea parties and boring walks in each other’s company.”
“Oh, I think we know each other well enough.” He winked. “And if I did marry you, I could steal as many kisses as I wanted and more.”
Cory blushed.
“Don’t be embarrassed, my love. Douglas won’t hesitate to toss your skirts over your head once he has a ring on your finger.”
She stomped her foot. “That’s not true.”
Tyler studied her from head to toe. His gaze lingered on the gap her missing button exposed on her bodice. “A husband has rights, and a man doesn’t marry without an intention to enforce those rights. And you won’t be able to do anything about it.”
Chapter Seven
No one had ever stated Cory’s fears so concisely. She could never imagine any man touching her intimately—until now. She looked at Tyler and knew he was different from all the other men who had courted her. She was drawn to him in a way that defied reason. She wanted to be with him even though she knew he was all wrong for her. And he didn’t seem too eager to marry her even if she did change her mind about wanting him as a husband. She would have to settle for someone else. “I guess a woman has to make sacrifices.”
“My mother made sacrifices.” His voice was bitter. “One of them was me.”
Cory heard the pain in his voice even though she didn’t understand what he was implying. “You don’t mean Sarah Yoder, do you?”
“No.” He ran his hands down his thighs. “Forget me. No decent woman would marry an outsider like me. Run to Mr. Raymond or some other respectable man and never look back.”
Cory reached out and stroked his arm. “She must have hurt you very much to make you believe no woman could love you.”
Tyler stared at her hand on his arm. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re sweet and tender one moment and a complete rogue the next,” she determined. “Do you treat every woman so cavalier? Do you believe our feelings so shallow, they cannot be crushed by a callous word or deed?”
“I do not take a lady’s affections for granted. I can count the number of women I’ve kissed on one hand.”
No man as handsome as Tyler could be so inexperienced. “Liar!”
“Honest.” He crossed his heart and counted on his fingers. “Reggie Johnston, Bill Bradley’s sister when I was at the academy, and two women when I was at Harvard. The last one was an heiress to a whaling fortune. After half a year of courting rituals, she let me hold her hand. And when I kissed her, it was like kissing a fish.”
Cory giggled. “You kiss a lot of fish?”
Tyler retrieved the milk bucket. “In Boston, it’s the preferred kissing partner.” He joined her in the narrow path by the stairs. “So ’fess. How many boys’ hearts have you broken?”
She smiled. “I have you beat. Seven. No, eight if I count you.”
“And you call me a rogue. You’d be branded a hussy in Boston’s stiff-necked society!”
“I am not!” She dipped her finger in the bucket of milk and tasted the warm liquid. “They were chaste kisses. Nothing like yours.”
Some of the milk spilled over the edge of the bucket as Tyler pinned her against the stairway support. “So you felt it, too.”
Before she could protest, he kissed her. This time slowly, tenderly, and with a sensuality that left them breathless. She fought to keep her head above the drowning waters luring her to immoral destruction.
“Has Douglas Raymond or any man made you feel this way? Throw caution to the wind, my dear Cory, and see where our passions lead us.”
“I know where our foolhardiness will lead us.” Cory shoved against his chest. “Pregnancy and ruin. Do you think any decent man would marry me or any of my sisters if word spread about how easily I succumbed to your charms? I have a responsibility to maintain the family honor with a rigid line of decorum. My sisters deserve a chance to find worthwhile husbands. I won’t shirk my duty.” She walked toward the horse stalls, determined to put some distance between them.
Why did she enjoy being kissed by Tyler? She should discourage him, but when he touched her, all resolve vanished. What if Douglas was a dud? Once married, she would be stuck with him. She had to encourage Douglas to kiss her. Then she’d know. If he stirred even half the excitement Tyler did, she could live with that, couldn’t she?
Cory paused near the door. “Miss Adelaide is awake by now, and I have eggs to gather from the hens. You better carry the milk inside before you spill it all.”
****
Cory laid the basket of eggs on the table, and Tyler dropped the bucket of milk beside it. Adelaide was heating a cast iron skillet coated with lard. “What have you two been doing?”
Cory glanced at Tyler. “Chores.”
“Humpf,” Adelaide replied. “You’re as transparent as that dress you’re wearing. And why is it missing a button?”
“It came off.” Cory retrieved the button from the egg basket. “It’s an old dress.”
Adelaide looked from Tyler to Cory. “A man doesn’t buy the cow if he can get the milk for free.”
Cory scrunched her face. “Why is everyone comparing me to a cow?”
Adelaide pointed her wooden spoon at Tyler. “Why are you half naked? Where are your clothes?”
“His sh
irt is soaking in my room,” Cory defended. “And I have to mend the holes in his other clothes.”
“Hang the shirt on the line so it can dry, and you probably have time to darn a couple of holes before breakfast is ready.” Adelaide looked at Tyler as she waved her spoon toward the back window. “Are you well enough to put the horses out in the east pasture and muck their stalls?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Might as well do it before you put on your clothes. How’s your wound?”
Tyler raised his arm. “A little itchy.”
“That’s good,” Cory said. “I’ll clean it when you’re done in the barn.”
“I know it’s going to be hot, but I suggest you add a petticoat under that dress.” Adelaide said. “He’s having trouble enough keeping his eyes off of you. I don’t want to worry about his hands and other appendages.”
“Miss Adelaide!” Cory gasped.
“I haven’t been a widow long enough not to remember what a man wants or how to tell.”
Tyler reddened. “I’ll take care of the horses.”
After he left, Cory turned to Adelaide. “How can you tell?”
“If I leave you alone with him long enough, I won’t have to tell you. He’ll show you. Dress for town,” she added. “I want you to run some errands.”
Cory puzzled over Adelaide’s words. Why did everything have to be so mysterious? No one talked about men and women coupling, but there were plenty of babies to prove it was happening. She thought of her parents and the noises echoing from their bedroom at night. Shouldn’t she know what was going to happen on her wedding night before she crawled into bed with her husband?
When she opened her bedroom door, she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the dressing table. She looked wild and untamed. Maybe it was the unruly curls cascading around her shoulders or the beads of sweat forming on her skin as the sun warmed the air.
But as she stepped forward, she realized a transformation had occurred in the way she carried herself. She appeared older, more confident, but why? The only difference in her life was Tyler. How could he change her so dramatically?
She grabbed the basin with Tyler’s shirt and carried it downstairs and out the front door to avoid any more scolding from Adelaide. She scrubbed it under the pump water, wrung it out, and hung it on the clothes line extending from the barn to a post in the yard. Most of the blood had come out except a brown spot around the hole. She rinsed the basin and hurried inside.
The darning didn’t take long, and Cory admired the workmanship of the embroidery on the vest. Someone had taken great care to create the intricate design. She searched along the linen back and found two initials stitched along the seam. “RJ,” Cory read aloud. “Reggie.” She must have felt something for him to make such a beautiful vest, and Tyler had to care a little to wear it. She brushed away a stray tear that fell for no reason and tossed the vest on top of the jacket.
She had a few dresses nice enough for town and chose a yellow and white gingham frock. It buttoned nearly to her neck and the sleeves came below her elbows. Normally, she would wear a shirt beneath it, but the thought of one more layer of clothing made her rebel. The fabric was lightweight and the bell-shaped sleeves would allow air to circulate and keep her cool.
She tore off her work dress and started the laborious task of putting on all her undergarments and lacing her corset. The stiff boning created a straight line from waist to bosom and forced the extra fullness upward. Likewise, the bell-shaped crinoline created an artificial framework to drape her gown on and disguised any natural curves.
She tossed a pair of soft leather gloves and her beaded handbag into her wide straw bonnet. She examined her messy hair. Combing out the tangles was laborious, and Cory decided to braid her hair to keep it neat and in place for the trip to town. She gathered the braided strands in a chignon at the base of her neck.
Cory studied her respectable reflection in the mirror and wondered what had happened to the woman who had entered the room. She hurried downstairs and left her bonnet on the sideboard. She carried Tyler’s jacket and vest into the kitchen and fetched an iron resting near the cold fireplace to heat on the stove. After breakfast, she’d press his clothes to smooth out the wrinkles.
Adelaide had finished frying the bacon and added several eggs to the bacon grease. Cory put on an apron. “What do you want me to do?”
“Mix some dough for biscuits.”
Cory added melted lard and fresh buttermilk to the flour, salt, and baking soda mixture. She kneaded the biscuit dough at the kitchen work table.
“Not so much,” Adelaide warned. “I don’t like my biscuits hard as rocks.”
Cory patted the mound into a thick circle with flour-covered fingers. She pressed the round cutter into the dough to form the biscuits. Tyler would finish his work soon. She needed to talk to Adelaide alone while she had the chance. She took a deep breath. “Miss Adelaide, there’s a man hiding in your barn.”
Adelaide removed the frying pan from the stove’s heat. “What makes you think that?”
“I heard the barn door open last night and investigated.”
She turned. “On your own? Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Tyler went with me.”
Adelaide gasped. “Did Tyler see him?”
“No.” Cory felt her face grow warm as she recalled why Tyler had not seen the runaway slave.
Adelaide gave her a stern look. “We need to keep it that way. Don’t encourage him to stay.”
“I’m not!” Cory wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the parlor. The flier Tyler had placed on the desk was still there. She took it to Adelaide. “Is the slave in the barn this one in the flier?”
Adelaide studied it. “Same description.”
Cory pointed to the information. “Is his name Noah?”
“That’s the name he gave me,” Adelaide agreed. “Noah.”
“Tyler’s slave.” She felt a heavy weight in her chest. Could a heart turn to stone? “Why is he still here? Why hasn’t Noah left for Canada?”
Adelaide handed her a flat pan for baking the biscuits. “He came here looking for his wife and son, but they haven’t arrived.”
“I didn’t think slaves could marry.”
“They can’t, but that doesn’t stop them from falling in love and wanting to be together.” Adelaide lifted the eggs from the skillet to a plate. “Noah said his wife, Tess, ran away with their son, Adam, at the end of May while her master was gone. Noah followed her, but he was arrested in Akron because of that flier.” She pointed at the reward offered for his capture. “He can’t ask openly about them and was hoping his family came this way. But Tess and the baby never reached this station.”
Cory put her hands on her hips. “Then you are part of the Underground Railroad.”
“Hush,” she warned. “Do you want to go to jail? That’s why I don’t want you involved.”
“How can I have the Beecher name and not fight slavery?”
“Your name is why I’ve kept you ignorant of Noah’s presence,” she argued.
“I can’t stand by and let Tyler or any chaser take a slave back to the South.”
“Brave words, but do you have the gumption to back them?”
Cory didn’t know the answer. She’d never been tested before.
“So you’re only pretending to like Tyler?”
Cory squared her shoulders with newfound resolve. “I could never love a slave owner.”
Adelaide took the biscuits Cory had placed on the baking sheet and placed them in the oven. She lifted one of the eggs left in the basket. “Your idea of love is like this egg. It’s a nice egg, but you can’t eat it unless you break the shell.”
Cory stared. First a cow, now an egg. What would she be compared to next?
Adelaide broke the egg into the skillet. “Real love breaks the shell and makes a mess of your well-laid plans.”
Cory had always believed love took time to cultivate and grew with
care. She dismissed her attraction to Tyler for a fever that would pass when he left. Nevertheless, she was eager to change the subject. “I searched for Noah in the barn this morning but couldn’t find him. Where is he hiding?”
“Noah hides in the woods during the day,” Adelaide said. “You must have seen him coming in after dark last night. He goes out before dawn.”
“How long has he been here?”
“This is the third day.”
“I didn’t even suspect anything.”
“I’ve been keeping you busy,” Adelaide said. “But I didn’t count on all the men you attract. I might as well be running a tavern.”
She resolved to do what was necessary. “I can drive Tyler into town when I run your errands. He’ll be gone, and we won’t have to worry about him.”
“Are you going to be all right with that?”
Cory might be heartbroken for a little while, but he wasn’t the only man in the world. There had to be more than one that made her heart flutter like the rapid beating of hummingbird wings.
Tyler stepped out of the barn and stood in the morning light. He looked around at the farm. Cory felt safe staring at him from the kitchen window. He was magnificent. Men weren’t supposed to be beautiful, but Tyler was. It was a shame to put clothes on him. As if he could read her thoughts, he went to the clothes line, felt his shirt, and removed it.
Cory fetched clean bandages and gathered other supplies to dress his wound. She met Tyler on the back porch. “Sit down.” She pointed to a backless wooden bench made from a split log. She placed a tin basin next to him and poured some warm water from a cast iron kettle into it to soak a small towel. She tried to untie the knot holding the bandage, but it had tightened.
Tyler withdrew a knife from his boot.
Cory jumped back.
“Skittish?” Tyler sliced the strip of petticoat and put the knife back in his boot.
She regained her composure. “Why do men have such awful toys?”
“To protect the womenfolk, I guess,” he said in a mocking imitation of a woodsman.
“Raise your arm,” she instructed.
He flexed his bicep.
Impending Love and War Page 6