Without worry? Had Katherine seen the size of his horse? Eliza would be nothing but worried. No. She’d be terrified.
“Good. It’s settled,” Mr. Brooks said, as if having one woman on his side meant the other would timidly fall in line. “I’ll meet you out here at two. Will that give you time enough to finish up your lessons?”
Eliza bit back the retort perched on the tip of her tongue. This battle might be better fought from behind enemy lines than in face-to-face combat. She’d let him think he’d negotiated her surrender. For now. It would make her victory all the sweeter when she thwarted him.
Eliza lifted her chin. “I’ll be ready.”
At one-thirty. And she’d take that wagon whether he liked it or not.
The only problem was, when she made her way to the barn to hitch the team after an abbreviated geography lesson, she found her wagon propped up on a pair of wooden stilts, back wheels removed and rear axle missing. No, not missing. The axle stood upright, leaning against the side of the barn, right next to the arrogant cavalryman who’d outmaneuvered her.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Do you think she’ll be all right?” Kate shot a worried glance at Mark as Jonah and Miss Southerland finally set off down the road, Eliza clinging to Jonah’s back like a barnacle to a ship.
She clearly feared horses, yet her drive to assist in their investigation had proven stronger. Jaw clenched, face pale, she’d barely breathed as Mark assisted her onto the back of Jonah’s horse, where she’d taken one look at the ground and immediately squeezed her eyes shut. After a single step by Augustus, she forfeited all pretension and hugged Jonah’s waist with both arms, hiding her face in his back.
“She’ll be fine.” Mark grinned at the departing couple, thinking how fine Jonah must be feeling with the lovely Eliza pressed so close against him. “Jonah will keep them to a walk. And you don’t have to worry about Augustus spooking.” He turned his attention to Kate and moved a step closer. “He’s a cavalry mount, trained to hold his position even amid cannon fire. She’ll be safer with him than one of those cart ponies.”
Mark cupped Kate’s elbow and steered her back toward the house. Pleasure warmed his chest at the simple touch. Did the contact affect her as well? She made no protest at his taking the liberty, yet her face dipped away from him as they walked, making her reaction hard to decipher.
Touching her was far too pleasant. His hand at her back earlier. Now this. Each touch made him want another. He’d assumed his packed-away feelings for her had been atrophying from disuse over the last decade, but apparently they’d been fermenting and intensifying during their dormancy. And now that they’d awoken, he worried they might outgrow his sense of caution.
“Would you sit with me for a minute?” he asked, not wanting her to disappear inside the house again when he finally had her to himself.
She slowed but didn’t meet his eyes. “I have bread dough rising.”
He tugged her to a halt at the base of the back stairs. He debated trying to tease or challenge her into changing her mind, but playing the rogue felt wrong. So when she finally raised her face, he opted for straightforward sincerity.
“Please, Kate.”
She hesitated, her eyes peering into his. Gauging his motives. Mark held his breath and opened himself to her scrutiny.
Please.
After an eternally long moment, she nodded.
Air rushed from his lungs in a relieved sigh as he grinned and gestured for her to take her pick of stairs. She settled on the third step, scooting over to ensure he had plenty of room. He joined her on the same step, angling his body so that he could lean his back against the railing and see her face. Not that she looked at him. Her attention seemed glued to the children playing in a pile of sand a few yards from the barn.
“I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished here, Kate. It’s good work. Meaningful work.”
She shook her head. “It’s not my accomplishment. Harmony House was all Eliza’s idea. Her vision. Her expertise. Her training.” A rueful smile quirked her lips. “She’s the teacher. I’m just the silent partner.”
“That’s not the way I hear it.”
Her head snapped around, her brows arching high in question.
Mark nudged her knee with his. “Abner told me about your valiant rescue. How you argued with his mother until she capitulated into giving him into your keeping. How you refused to be intimidated by a wealthy donor’s threats. That’s heroism in my book, not silent partnering.”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “I’m surprised Abner told you about that day. He doesn’t like talking about his mother.”
“But he does like talking about you.” Mark winked at her, even as he infused his voice with absolute sincerity. “You’re his hero, Kate.”
She ducked her head and nibbled on her lower lip.
Not wanting her to hide from him, he reached between them, covered her hand, and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’re quickly becoming my hero too.”
Her head popped up, and her eyes widened.
“It’s true,” he insisted, reading the doubt in her expression. “It takes a lot of courage to leave the only home you’ve ever known and take on a job you feel unqualified to practice. I know. I was terrified out of my mind when I joined the Army.”
“Then why did you leave?” She shifted to face him more completely, all trace of shyness disappearing. “I thought you’d pursue the symphony in Boston. You weren’t supposed to join the military and put yourself in constant danger. You could have died because of me!”
He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “No, Kate. I could have died because of me. Joining the Army was my decision. Heaven knows my parents tried their best to talk me out of it, but I wouldn’t be dissuaded. My pride was hurt, and my heart was hurt, and music no longer held the same appeal. It was something we had shared.” He swallowed, wanting to turn his head but forcing himself to hold her gaze. “I was a foolish kid, Kate. Too young to realize how much I actually cared about the girl whose music harmonized so perfectly with mine. Until I lost her.”
Her head wagged slightly back and forth. “I thought I was saving you from a forced marriage. The last thing I wanted to do was trap you into something you didn’t want. I cared about you too much to force such an injustice upon you.” Her lashes lowered slightly. “I couldn’t have borne it if you came to resent me, and I couldn’t imagine that not happening. Not when I was the one responsible for compromising us.”
Mark’s pulse throbbed at the revelation that she cared for him. Or at least had, once upon a time.
“You know,” he said with a playful shrug, trying to lighten the mood so he wouldn’t feel quite so vulnerable as he bared his heart, “there was a part of me that was glad Mr. Owen found us.”
Her dubious look made him grin.
“Sure, I was embarrassed and frustrated the old fellow had jumped to such improper conclusions, but his outrage created an opportunity. An excuse to propose. I’d already been picturing the two of us together. I might not have expected the timetable to be so short, but when I considered the future, you were the one I envisioned by my side. So when you turned me down, it didn’t feel like you were freeing me from an unfair trap. It felt like you were rejecting me.”
Mark pulled his hat from his head and tapped the brim against his knee. “That’s why I joined the Army. I sought a distraction. A way of life that would demand all of my attention so I could forget about the young woman who’d chosen to live with a damaged reputation instead of living with me.”
“Oh, Mark.” She leaned close, her face mere inches from his. “It wasn’t like that at all. I swear.”
He believed her. How could he not, with those earnest blue eyes imploring him? And that mouth. So close. So ripe for the kiss he’d been waiting a decade to taste. He leaned in. Took aim. Approached the target.
“Miss Kafrin! Look!”
Mark jerked backward as Ted thrust a dirt-colored c
reature at Kate’s face. The ugly critter resembled a squashed lizard covered in spiky armor.
“I caught a horny toad!” the boy crowed as if he’d just captured a fire-breathing dragon.
Kate chuckled. “I see that.” Her gaze darted to Mark’s, a remnant of warmth still visible beneath the humor.
“Wanna pet him?” Ted shoved the horned lizard closer.
Her answer was clear when she lurched backward and pulled her hands behind her. But Mark knew her tender heart would not be able to bear Ted’s disappointment. Time for a diversion tactic.
He waved his hat toward Ted to grab his attention, then set it back on his head, out of the way. “Let me see him, partner.”
Ted swiveled, his shrinking smile quickly gaining new life and returning to its full width. “Abner said he’s a big ’un.”
“He sure is.” Matt held out his palm and mentally braced himself for the scaliness about to descend. He’d never been particularly fond of reptilian creatures, but if he could play Kate’s hero and spare a kid’s feelings in the process, it’d be worth it.
Ted placed the horned lizard in Mark’s palm. “Careful. He’s fast.”
Debatable. It didn’t move a muscle when Ted released his hold. Just sat there blinking. Mark cupped his fingers around its body anyway, not wanting to be responsible for losing Ted’s prize. The lizard’s belly contracted as it breathed, the motion growing rapid and shallow.
“Hey there, little fella.” Mark brought his other hand around and patted the critter’s head.
The lizard’s body puffed. Then, without warning, blood shot out of the creature’s eye.
Kate squealed. Mark blocked the stream with his left hand and jerked the lizard away from her. Thankfully, he kept the presence of mind not to fling the thing through the air.
“Whoa!” The wonder in Ted’s voice almost made the mess worth it. “I gotta show Abner!” He snatched the bloody lizard from Mark’s hand and ran off for the sandpile.
Mark grimaced at the red staining his hand and the handful of drops marring his sleeve cuff. “Might want to release him after you show him off,” he called after the boy. “The poor critter’s probably scared to death.”
Most animals had defense mechanisms, but this was the first time he’d ever fallen victim to squirting blood. He supposed it was better than a skunk. At least this he could wipe off without smelling like old garbage for the rest of the week.
Kate touched his shoulder as he shifted to retrieve his handkerchief from his trouser pocket. “Are you all right?”
He quirked a grin. “Sure. Just a little mess. No harm done.” Though he might need to change his shirt before he interviewed the teacher this afternoon.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’ll make a great story.” He shook his handkerchief open and wiped the streak of blood off his hand and wrist. “And there’s the proof.” He nodded toward the sandpile, where all the kids huddled around Ted while he gave an animated retelling. “They’re captivated.”
“Ruby looks more disgusted than captivated,” Kate said, a smile in her voice.
“I don’t know. Seems to me like she’s both.”
Mark turned to study the woman at his side. Love for the children in her care emanated from her like rays from the sun. It warmed him. Drew him in. Brightened his outlook on life. Even as it made him realize that if they had married all those years ago, neither of them would be the people they were today. He wouldn’t have met Captain Hanger, the man who turned him from a wild kid with a thirst for reckless adventure into a hardened cavalryman with a purpose beyond himself. And Kate—well, he couldn’t imagine her being anything less than extraordinary, but he had to concede that her joining Miss Southerland in this ministry had lent a depth to her spirit, a maturity that he found even more attractive than the vivacious girl he remembered.
“You seem happy here,” he observed.
She grinned, her gaze hovering over the children. “I am.” Her face softened into a more introspective mien. “After you left, I think I lost myself a bit. Friends distanced themselves from me to guard their reputations. My relationship with my mother deteriorated. She was so angry at me for turning down your offer, convinced I’d thrown away my life for no good reason. Your parents never blamed me for your leaving, but everyone else in town seemed to. Westfield no longer felt like home. It was just . . . a place.”
A lonely place, by the sound of it. A heaviness settled over Mark as he listened to her tale. He’d been so consumed with his own hurt, his own need to escape and forget, that he’d never allowed himself to imagine what things had been like for her, living in the aftermath of scandal.
“I shouldn’t have left,” he ground out between clenched teeth, disgust at the selfish youth he’d been tingeing his tone with bitterness.
“No.” Kate turned to him and clasped his arm. “You did nothing wrong, Mark. I knew what I was doing when I made my choice, and even now I wouldn’t unmake it. Not when I can see how God used those years of loneliness for good.”
How could loneliness be good?
She must have read the question on his face, for a small smile curved her lips. “A strange thing happens when you find yourself on the outside of society. You start to see the world from a different perspective. Satan uses loneliness to isolate and depress. But God uses it to build compassion.”
She sat back, her gaze drifting to the sky. “It took me a few years to get over my self-pity, I’m ashamed to say. I focused so much on what I had lost that I failed to appreciate what I still had. Good health. More wealth than most of the inhabitants of Westfield. And a heart that God was actively reshaping at his potter’s wheel.” She shook her head a little, her eyes lighting with a happy memory. “Do you know there are people who don’t care a fig about a woman’s reputation? Hunger, sickness, ostracism—people afflicted with such things care only about a warm meal, healing medicine, and a compassionate touch. Once I pulled my head out of the sand, I realized I was not the only lonely person in Westfield. I was one of many. Most of whom were far worse off than myself.
“Mother refused to allow me to tend the sick, fearful I’d catch some contagion and spread it to the rest of the family, but she couldn’t stop me from befriending the hurting. Instead of sitting in my parlor alone with my needlework in the afternoons, I started visiting various widows in the area and plied my needle in their company. Some would chatter; others would work their own embroidery in silence. One elderly lady whose eyesight was failing had me read aloud to her, usually from the Bible. Many times she would quote passages as I read them, her knowledge of the Word inspiring me to spend more time in the Scriptures myself. And as I did, I felt a stirring within my soul calling me to something bigger. To a ministry that focused on the least of these.
“A few months later, I attended a revival meeting that emphasized mission work. The preacher delivered a rousing sermon, urging members to lend their financial support to one of the organizations whose representatives were in the missions tent. The sermon highlighted the Great Commission and our call to spread the gospel to every nation. People flocked to the missionaries raising funds to carry the good news to foreign lands. Others proved eager to support medical outreaches and charities geared toward helping the poor. But as I wandered through the tent, I steered clear of the crowds, seeking the fringe instead. That’s when God led me to Eliza. She was so passionate about discarded children and the foundling home she believed would serve them. Her ministry was small compared to the others. And she was a single black woman. Easy for many to discount and ignore. Most visitors that day passed by without even pausing to listen.”
“But not you.” Mark’s heart swelled as he pictured Kate slowing her step, smiling in encouragement, and asking pertinent questions.
“No,” she said softly, her face radiating with something beyond physical beauty. “I made an outright pest of myself, I’m sure. It’s a miracle she agreed to let me visit her in Texas. But I knew I had to c
ome. God had opened a door for me, and nothing was going to stop me from walking through it.”
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Augustus tossed his head for the second time in as many minutes. He was antsy. Not surprising when the woman behind Jonah radiated enough tension to rival fencing wire. He needed to find a way to help her relax before Augustus started sidestepping. The jerky gait wouldn’t bother Jonah, but any unexpected movement was bound to send Miss Eliza into a panic.
Maybe if he got her talking . . .
“So how’d you and Miss Palmer meet up?”
No response.
All right. Maybe a little prod to her pride would get her going. “Seems like an odd partnership.”
Her arm twitched at his waist, and the sudden circulation of cool air against his shoulder blades testified to the removal of her cheek. “Why is my partnership with Katherine any odder than your partnership with the Horsemen? We work together, using the different skills and talents we possess, to accomplish shared goals. Isn’t that how the Horsemen operate? Or do you think us incapable of working well in tandem because we’re female?”
Jonah bit back a triumphant grin.
“The Horsemen bonded during wartime,” he said, ruthlessly keeping all amusement from his voice. “I know kids can be a handful, but it’s not exactly the same as dodging bullets while trusting the man beside you to keep you alive.”
“You think not?” Air flow traveled a little farther down his back as her indignation separated them a hairsbreadth more. “Try facing down condescending donors who are certain their ideas are better than yours or navigating the political tightrope when black churches want to provide funds only for needy black children and white churches want to provide only for white. If I didn’t trust Katherine to watch my back while I watched hers, Harmony House would have closed its doors years ago.”
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