* * *
Lydia and Connor were at Mark Cotter’s horse farm for less than an hour. As they walked back to the Colburn property, they each held a rope with a horse at the other end. Lydia was glad Connor had gone with her. She liked watching him as he spoke with Mark and the farmhands. He acted differently now that he no longer needed to be secretive. He initiated handshakes and patted backs and looked people in the eye when they spoke. She liked how people responded to him. It made her want to know him more.
With the sun behind them, Lydia looked up at Connor as they strolled along the road. “What was it like for you arriving here and being thrown into my family with hardly a choice?”
“It hasn’t been all that bad. In fact, I’m rather fond of your family.”
“As am I. My father and Bethany adore you. Aunt Isabella does too, but Levi has not been very welcoming.”
“He is only trying to protect his family. I understand. The guy has four sisters. I guess he has his work cut out for him.” Connor rubbed his chin. He had shaved his whiskers. She missed them.
She was staring. She tried to peel her eyes away, but it took effort. He was from a different world, yet she was drawn to him. Levi had said it was just her thirst for knowledge. At first that made sense, but it was more than that.
Looking at Connor stirred a hope in her she’d never known. It was illogical to feel so happy and terribly confused all at once. She couldn’t trust those feelings and willed herself to focus on their conversation. “Since my eldest sisters, Adeline and Maggie, are both married, Levi only worries over Bethany and me. No matter his motive, he hasn’t shown you the best in himself. But you’ve handled it graciously.” She switched the rope to the other hand and the horses breathed loudly. “I believe you and Levi will be good friends once he gets to know you.”
“I like your optimism.” Connor grinned a little. What was he thinking?
They were walking in a slow stride.
She asked, “Do you come from a large family?”
“No.” He cast his gaze into the distance and remained quiet. Maybe his family was a sore topic. She gave him time to reply and had nearly given up on a response when finally he spoke. “I’m an only child. My mother died when I was young. She’d been sick for years, so it was really my grandmother who raised me.”
“I’m sorry.” She knew all too well what it was like to lose a parent. “How did your father cope with losing her?”
“I have no idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wasn’t exactly in the picture. I never knew my dad.”
“Did he die?”
“I don’t know. When I was a kid, my mom told me that he was a pilot. Whenever an airplane would fly over, she would point at it and tell me that my dad might be flying it. She talked about him like he was a hero. I guess that’s why I wanted to be a pilot.”
He grinned but it didn’t reach his eyes. “My grandmother came to visit me when I finished flight school. I asked her about my father. She said it didn’t really matter. I wanted to tell her it mattered to me, but I could tell by the look on her face that I should let it go. She died a few months later.”
Lydia thought about what it must be like to have no family at all. She couldn’t imagine it. “It sounds like your life was lonely.”
“I never thought of it that way. But being a guest in your dad’s house is the first time I have ever been with a large family.” He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. “It’s been a whole new experience for me.”
He could lighten the mood instantly. She smiled and wished they had more time together before he had to leave again.
He stopped walking and turned to her. The horses stood still and sniffed the air. Lydia stopped too and looked up at Connor. His gaze was fixed on her, and his expression held a sober vulnerability. “I feel honored to be here… with your family… in your village. I feel honored to be with you, even walking a couple of horses down the road.” He was quiet for a moment but didn’t look away. He was calculating his words carefully. “When I was traveling to the other villages, I missed this place. I missed you, Lydia.”
He hadn’t called her Doc. Though she liked his nickname for her, she also liked the way he said her name. Caught by his stare, she understood what her giggly little sister meant when she’d said Connor’s deep brown eyes were full of mystery and passion.
Lydia felt dazed and illogical. How did she look to him? Was her hair a mess? Was she blushing? Her hands were sweating inside her gloves. If this feeling was what Mandy meant when she spoke of intrigue, it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as she had made it sound.
Connor reached his hand toward her. She thought he was going to touch her and she held her breath. But he only took the rope out of her hand.
She let her empty hands fall to her side.
He flashed his confident grin and emitted satisfaction. “I have to leave again tomorrow. I want you to know I’ll miss you while I’m gone.”
He had control of both horses and started to walk again. He clicked at the horses and they followed him.
She brushed her gloved hands together, aware of their emptiness and the unease that came with having nothing to hold on to. She walked beside him and, as they approached the barn on the Colburn property, he looked at her, still grinning. “Do you think these two would like to go for a run?”
“Possibly.” Lydia glanced at the two horses then back at Connor. “Would you like to ride? I can teach you.”
He chortled. “Thanks, Doc, but I know how to ride a horse. I heard that you’re the fastest rider in the village. I would like to see it for myself.”
She liked the challenge. “Oh, I see. Let’s take them to the barn for saddles, and then we can ride to the paddock across the road and have a run.” She mirrored his grin and squared her shoulders. “That is, unless you’re afraid of riding fast.”
He laughed. “The last time I rode fast, I was at Mach one point eight.”
“I’m not sure what that means, but I hope to find out.” She took one of the ropes out of his hand and walked the horse to the barn. He was watching her, and she liked it. After she brushed one horse, she heaved a saddle onto it and glanced at Connor as he saddled the other horse. He knew what he was doing.
* * *
Connor lowered himself into the saddle and held the horse’s reins. Lydia mounted her horse with swift grace. The hobby of his youth was her daily experience. Her skirt bunched in front of her thighs, exposing her legs. He stared until she caught him.
He grinned and pointed at the field across the road from the Colburn property, but before he could ask, she turned her horse and led the way. She flashed a pretty smile over her shoulder. “Follow me.”
His competitive spirit tempted him to fire a challenging retort. Instead, he kicked the horse and caught up to Lydia. As soon as they crossed the gravel road, she tore through the open field and left him momentarily surprised. He urged the horse to gallop but was only halfway across the field when she pulled on the reins and turned her horse around.
She chuckled as Connor reached her. “What Mach was that?”
“You’re funny, Doc.” His horse snorted and fidgeted, while the horse Lydia rode seemed perfectly content beneath her. Connor tugged the reins and turned the nervous horse toward the road. “Race me back.”
Lydia grinned and accepted his challenge. His chances of winning were slim, but he rode hard as he crossed the field. He was only a few feet behind her when she made it to the road. He considered his quick improvement a hopeful sign of a future victory.
She threw her head back and laughed when she turned and saw him behind her. She had once seemed delicate and serious, but he was now familiar with her strength and her fervor. She could challenge him for the rest of his life. The thought of spending his life with her appealed to him deeply. The desire was foreign to his plans, and the weight of it stunned him. As he rode next to her, her expression changed. The seriousness of his thoughts must have been ob
vious on his face.
Lydia drew her brows together. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He forced himself to smile but all he could think was a life here in the Land with Lydia Colburn—not because the rest of the world was at war, but because he had met his match and would have no peace without her.
Someone called her name from across the road. Bethany was running from the Colburn property, waving her arms over her head. “Lydia, come quickly!” she shouted. “There’s a man at the cottage looking for you. He said they need you at the school immediately. One of the children has been hurt.”
Lydia popped the reins and took off. In a matter of seconds, she was out of sight.
As Connor watched her disappear, he realized she had held back during their race. He shook his head in amused disbelief then swung down from the saddle and walked Levi’s new horse into the barn.
Chapter Eleven
“And then what did he say?” Mandy asked as she lowered herself into a chair at the Colburns’ kitchen table. Lydia carried a porcelain cup full of fresh cream to the table and offered it to Mandy as she sat across from her. Mandy put up her hand. “No, thank you.”
Lydia drizzled the warm cream into her afternoon cup of coffee. She raised the cup to her lips and glanced at Mandy through the steam. Mandy leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table while she waited for Lydia’s reply. Lydia had already made sure there was no one in the parlor, but she kept her voice low just in case Isabella was listening. “Connor said that while he is gone he would miss me.”
“He will miss you?” Mandy furrowed her brow and pulled a curl of auburn hair through her fingers. “I suppose it could mean something. It’s certainly a friendly thing to say.” She dropped the curl and tapped her thin fingers on the side of her cup. “The men I have intrigued are more obvious than that when they declare their romantic notions. But Connor might have a different way of handling it. How did he look when he said it?”
“I prefer not to read too much into a person’s demeanor, especially since I was feeling struck blind by my own infatuation at the time.” Lydia thought back a day and pictured Connor as they walked home with the horses. “It was as if he wanted me to know something, but he couldn’t say it.” She waved her hand. “See, my own interpretation cannot be trusted.”
“And maybe your impression of him was accurate.” Mandy put her finger to her bottom lip as she thought for a moment. “Did he touch you at all while he was speaking?”
Lydia shook her head. “He took the horse rope out of my hand and then he smiled and kept walking.”
“What kind of smile?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Of course you do.”
Lydia set her cup on the table then hid her face in her hands and laughed. “Can you believe I’m having these feelings? This giggling over a man—this is your forte and maybe Bethany’s, but certainly not mine.”
Mandy beamed with delight. “Truly intrigue is the most magnificent part of life, Lydia. You should enjoy it.”
Lydia mocked a grimace. “Enjoy it? I can barely tolerate being in my skin feeling this way. I cannot believe you enjoy this sensation!”
“What could possibly be undesirable about falling in love?”
Lydia could have listed manifold discomforts about the situation. She sighed and gazed at the ceiling. Her eyes traced the wooden rafters high above the kitchen table. “If I’m wrong about Connor’s feelings, then I’ll feel humiliated. If I’m right, then my whole life could take course in a new direction—a direction I neither want nor feel suited to fulfill.”
Mandy leaned back and brought her cup to her mouth with both hands. “Perhaps now you understand why I stick to intrigue and refuse commitment. Well, that’s part of my reasoning anyhow. Just enjoy falling in love and when it’s run its course, which it always does, return to yourself unfettered.”
Lydia chortled. “You almost make your hobby of toying with men’s affections sound logical.” She thought of Levi and how painful it was for the person on the other end of that rejection. “I prefer not to enter a situation destined to end in broken hearts. I suppose it’s for the best that Connor is gone right now. I should use this time to sort out my feelings. I’ve never wanted to marry. I’m still not sure I do, but I must work that out on my own time and not on someone else’s heart.”
“So you’re intrigued by Connor, the mysterious traveler. You’re certainly not the first in the village for that.” Mandy grinned briefly, then her serious expression returned. “Is he worth further consideration to you?”
“Yes… I believe he… he would make a good husband. He’s intelligent and considerate and protective, and when someone is speaking to him he stops whatever he’s doing and gives that person his attention.” She was getting swept away as she thought of Connor’s qualities. She shook her head. “But that isn’t what is important right now. What I must decide is if I could be a wife.”
Mandy drew her head back in surprise. “Of course you could be a wife.”
“Really? What man would appreciate his wife leaving home at midnight to rush to someone’s aid? Or what if I became a mother? How would it affect the village if I were so encumbered being with-child that I couldn’t help a person who needed me?” With only brief consideration of her profession and its importance to the village, her romantic feelings all but dissipated. She blew out a breath. “There’s more to consider than whether or not he’s likable. I have to consider if this is even possible. Connor said he and Levi would be away for three weeks. I want to have an answer prepared by then—even if the question is never asked.”
Mandy tilted her head to the side, and a curtain of curls dropped over her cheek. “You were always so resolute that you would never marry. Even you must admit it’s humorous you should become intrigued by the first man to fall from the sky.” Mandy smiled over the top of her cup. “Whatever you decide, you have my support. And if you decide that you can’t marry, do send Connor my way.”
* * *
Lydia lingered in the kitchen long after Mandy went home. She remained at the table but turned her chair so she could look out the window. Her eyes fixed on the grass outside but focused on no particular point. As the sun sank lower in the sky, she watched shadows stretch across the yard. Finally, she stood and walked into the parlor.
Isabella emerged from her afternoon nap and tapped her cane along the floor as she stepped into the parlor where her knitting basket awaited her. John came home as the sun was setting. He sat near the fireplace in a winged-back armchair and propped his feet on a wooden footstool. Isabella’s knitting needles clicked as she worked.
Lydia sat on the plush rug that spanned the parlor floor and sorted through her aunt’s basket of yarn balls. As she untangled knots, she studied her father’s face. His head was angled toward the fireplace, and the warm light illuminated the faint creases at the corners of his eyes. They looked deeper than usual.
John stared into the fire. “It is nearly one hundred twenty miles north to Pleasant Valley. The boys should be there by Sunday afternoon if all goes well.”
“Yes,” Lydia agreed. “I hope the weather remains favorable for them.” She found a knot in a ball of light green yarn and began to pick the tangle apart. Her fingers stayed busy while she thought about Connor.
She had to decide if she could get romantically involved with anyone before Connor returned, but her thoughts only drifted to him as a person. Maybe the two concepts were inseparable; only the love of the right man could make her want to marry. Still, she couldn’t believe any man would want a woman whose profession would always be her prominent duty. The men she knew preferred women who were devoted only to domestic interests. She wanted to ask her father’s advice, but the matter should go no further than Mandy… unless Connor made his feelings known. If he even possessed those feelings for her, which she had no reason to believe he did. She shook her head out of frustration.
“Have you got a tough one?” John asked.<
br />
“Pardon?” Her attention snapped from her thoughts. Had she spoken out loud?
“The knot.” John pointed at the yarn she was holding. “You looked frustrated.”
“Oh, yes... perhaps. I don’t know.”
“I see.” He furrowed his brow. “You will work it out, Lydia. I know you will.”
She nodded, thankful for her father’s encouragement even if they were thinking about two different things.
Someone tapped lightly on the front door. Most people in the village went to the Colburns’ kitchen door. Lydia glanced at her father as she set the yarn in the basket. She straightened her skirt as she walked to the door. Its rarely-used knob squeaked when she turned it. “Mrs. Owens. Please, come in.”
A slight woman in her mid-thirties, Ruth Owens wiped her boots politely and stepped across the threshold. “Thank you, Lydia. Is your father home?” She looked past Lydia. “Oh, hello, Mr. Colburn. May I have a moment of your time?”
John removed his feet from the footstool and stood. “Of course, Ruth.” He motioned to the divan across from his chair. “Please, have a seat.”
“I’ll only be a moment. I have to hurry home and cook dinner.” Ruth sat on the edge of the divan and folded her hands in her lap. “It’s my boy Luke. His father and I are concerned about him. I’m more concerned than his father. That’s why I came to you, Mr. Colburn.”
Lydia started to leave the room, but Ruth held her hand up. “Stay, Lydia. I have no secrets. Mr. Owens and I rarely see eye to eye on things, especially Luke’s upbringing, but this time I think Luke is headed for real trouble.”
John nodded to Lydia, and she sat beside Ruth on the divan. John sat back down in the armchair. “Please, continue.”
“Luke was always a good boy, you see, doing his chores and minding us.” She gestured continually with one hand while she spoke. “Then not long ago, he started having some trouble in school, mostly with the other boys. I spoke to his teacher about it. He says Luke only has one friend, Walter McIntosh. The teacher said Luke and Walter usually keep to themselves. Then last month Luke started coming home from school later each day. Now he gives his father lip about the chores and refuses to answer when we ask why he is late. I understand it’s natural for a fourteen-year-old boy to want his independence, but this sudden rebelliousness seems odd for Luke. So I went by the school one afternoon last week when I knew he should be getting out of class. I watched from a distance as my son and Walter left the school yard with Frank Roberts.”
The Land Uncharted (The Uncharted Series Book 1) Page 15