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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

Moonlight on Water (17 page)

BOOK: Moonlight on Water
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“You didn't read me a story yet.”

“Tonight …” She glanced over her shoulder. As she had guessed, Mr. Foley was wearing a displeased frown. “Go in and get the book you borrowed from the Community library. I'll be in as soon as I can. Until then, look at the pictures.”

“And then, when you come in, I can tell
you
a story about them?”

Rachel wanted to thank the little girl, but she could not speak such words when Mr. Foley was privy to them. Kitty Cat's suggestion of devising a story for Rachel announced quite clearly that the child intended to stay awake until Rachel came to bid her good night. Not keeping the little girl awake too late was the perfect excuse to put a close to this uncomfortable call.

“Yes,” she replied. “Now go to bed while I finish speaking with Mr. Foley.”

Kitty Cat grinned and waved to both Rachel and Mr. Foley. “Don't be long. I already know the story I'm going to tell you.”

Straightening as Kitty Cat disappeared along the hall, Rachel turned slowly to face Mr. Foley. His smile had returned, and she doubted if he had noticed her looking at him when he was frowning.

“A charming child,” he said.

“She's a good little girl. Inquisitive, it's true.”

“A sign of intelligence, which is something we hope for the next generation here at River's Haven. Such a child must be allowed to explore and learn.”

Rachel smiled. “I agree. May I ask you a favor, Mr. Foley?”

“Most certainly. Friends do favors for friends. True?”

“True.” She hoped the abrupt queasiness would stay in her stomach and not embarrass her, for she guessed what he would ask in return for the favor she needed. Yet, if she did not ask, Kitty Cat might get in such trouble that she was taken from Rachel even before her upcoming birthday. Losing the child would be as painful as when she had lost her father. “Mr. Foley, as I told you before, the Centennial celebration is coming soon. The children of Haven have asked if the children of River's Haven might join them in making decorations for the Fourth of July celebration in Haven.”

“And you asked if Katherine might be allowed to participate.” He frowned. “Is this the same invitation that Reverend Faulkner has extended?”

“Yes.”

“It isn't …” He halted himself and smiled. “On second thought, I can see ways in which it's a commendable idea. I shall broach it without delay with the Assembly of Elders.”

Rachel smiled back. “Thank you, Mr. Foley.”

He raised his hands in a magnanimous gesture. “Save your thanks for when I return to take you for a carriage ride after dinner tomorrow evening. Is that agreeable?”

This
, she knew, was the price of his favor. She could not tell him no. Not only was it considered a great honor to welcome an Elder into one's home, but she had promised Kitty Cat she would make the day of decorating Haven possible. She heard herself saying rather faintly, “It's agreeable, Mr. Foley, but not tomorrow. I have barn work tomorrow.”

He chuckled. “I understand. Working outside in this heat will leave you no energy to receive a guest. The evening after that, then.”

As she assented, she hoped that Kitty Cat would enjoy her visit to Haven, for Rachel doubted if she would enjoy Mr. Foley's next visit.

Eleven

Rachel sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead. Today was even hotter and muggier than last night. She glanced toward the west. Clouds were building there. Would a storm reach River's Haven and cool the air? Other clouds had gathered yesterday, but no rain had fallen. Yesterday, she had been in her office, which was much cooler than sitting on the hot ground.

Miss Stanley was insistent that the fence around the new pasture for the sheep be finished today. Rachel was not sure why, because the sheep would not be moved here for another two weeks. Arguing with Miss Stanley was fruitless and took too much effort on a hot day.

Picking up another nail, she tried to grip the hammer steadily in her left hand. Her right one was too sore to hold it because of blisters raised by the work. She was accustomed to working with paper and figures. She hoped she would be able to write tomorrow. Aiming the hammer at the nail, she barely missed her finger, and she heard a too-familiar laugh behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Wyatt squatting behind her.

Her heart clamored against her breastbone as if it were trying to escape and go to him. She slanted toward him, wanting his arms around her. Before he could pull her to him, she picked up her cup of nails and moved a bit farther along the fence. Not that it did any good. Even if she traveled all the way to distant China, she still would be unable to resist his powerful masculine aura that lured her to him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hoping her voice was not trembling.

“Checking on the progress of the parts your metal shop is making for us,” Wyatt answered.

“I told you that I'd let you know when they were ready.”

He chuckled. “I thought it'd be much more fun to come out and check for myself. Besides, until the parts are finished, work is at a standstill on
The Ohio Star
. I can polish the brasses only so long, and I don't want to hear any more of Horace's bellyachin' about being stuck on shore.”

Awkwardly hammering in the nail to hold the board more securely, Rachel said, “That doesn't sound like Horace. He's always seemed pretty even tempered.”

“The heat's enough to get anyone riled. I don't remember many Junes as hot as this one.”

“I'll be glad when a storm washes away this heat.”

“Don't be so sure of that. The storms can be bad when it stays hot this long. I'd wager your common house is the tallest thing in the whole county. Lightning may head right for it.”

“Wyatt, I really don't have time to chat about the weather now.” She reached for another nail, even though she wanted to reach for him. “I need to finish this fence.”

“How much of it have you built?”

“Everything from here to that corner of the barn.” She pointed to a spot about one hundred feet away.

“Today?” He plucked the hammer from her left hand and then grabbed her right hand. When he twisted it up so he could see the blisters on her palm, he demanded, “Can't you do anything in moderation?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” He raised her hand toward her face. “You aren't accustomed to this kind of work. You shouldn't be doing it now.”

She held out her other hand for the hammer, pretending she did not see the blisters bubbling up on that hand as well. “It's my turn to share in the work in the stables.”

“Who's doing your regular work?”

“No one.”

He laughed tersely. “So you're doing someone else's work, and nobody is lifting a finger to help with yours. It's a great system you have here, honey.”

“It works for us. You can't tell me that you and Horace keep track of exactly how much work each of you does, so that neither of you has more work than the other.”

“You've made your point. C'mon.” He put his fingers around her wrist and tugged her to her feet. Gathering up the box of nails and the hammer, he said, “Anyone with any sense would know when it's time to call it a good day's work and quit.”

“But I'm not finished, and you aren't the one to tell me what to do.”

“Look at that sky.” He hooked a thumb toward the western horizon where the clouds were turning a malignant gray. “I'm not telling you what to do. I'm suggesting you get inside before that storm sends you scurrying.” He began to walk away.

Rachel started to call him back, so she could continue her work. The distant rumble of thunder silenced her. She hurried after Wyatt. She walked even faster when a flash of lightning reflected off the river.

“The cottage with the red door, right?” Wyatt asked as she caught up with him.

“Yes. Last cottage on the right.”

When thunder sounded again, closer, she increased her pace again. She glanced toward the common house. Windows were being pulled shut. She needed to do the same thing in the cottage.

She winced when she opened the door. Even the simplest motion sent pain across her skin. Holding the door open, she gestured for Wyatt to come in.

“Don't just stand there,” she ordered. “It's going to rain.”

“So I noticed. But this is a momentous moment, honey. I never thought I'd be invited into your cottage with its red door.”

“Will you stop being absurd?”

“Not likely.” He stepped in and took the door from her, closing it. “So this is what's behind your red door.” He laughed. “Not much like a brothel.”

“I'll have to take your word for it.”

“If your voice got any colder, honey, you could turn the coming rain to snow.”

“Wyatt, if you'd step aside, I can get the windows closed before the rain arrives.”

“Sit down. I'll get the windows.” He held up his finger as she started to protest. When she stepped back before he could touch it to her lips, he asked, “Just the windows here?”

“And one in each of the bedrooms. I should get those.”

He laughed again, but the humor was gone from the sound. “I'm not about to peek at all your private things, if that's what you're worried about. Sit down, and I'll tend to it.”

Rachel nodded, relieved that she could cradle her burning hands in her lap and not touch the window frames that were sharp with bits of chipping paint. Sitting on the sofa, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Wyatt's steps were out of place in her house. Or were they? She had imagined this exact sound within her dreams.

Thunder cracked, and she flinched but did not sit up. Every muscle ached from her hard work. On the morrow, she would have to find a way to write without breaking these accursed blisters.

When her right hand was carefully cupped on a broad palm, she opened her eyes to find Wyatt kneeling in front of her. She watched as he swaddled her right hand in a warm, damp cloth.

“Ouch!” she gasped.

“Too hot?” He looked up at her, concern mixing with the sympathy in his eyes.

“No. Some of the blisters must have broken.”

“You
are
a foolish woman. Injuring yourself won't do you or River's Haven any good.”

She laughed. “I can assure you that it wasn't my intention to injure myself.”

“If you weren't so stubborn—” He glanced toward the window as lightning flashed down in a pitchfork to strike somewhere along the hills edging the river. “I'll get K. C., if you tell me where she is.”

Thunder thudded against the cottage like an impatient giant's fist as Rachel answered, “At this time of afternoon, she's with the other young children. Miss Hanson will watch over her. If the storm lasts for very long, Miss Hanson may have all the children eat together in the common house.”

“All the children? Are they still in school?”

“They play together before dinner.” She added nothing more. If she spoke of how Kitty Cat would be going to live in the common house with the other children after her seventh birthday, Wyatt was sure to give her a dozen arguments about why that was a stupid custom. She did not feel like arguing with him just now … especially when she would want to agree.

He picked up another warm cloth and draped it over her left hand. “You need to get these hands better if you're going to play that guitar in the other room. You do play it, don't you?”

“Not often lately, or so Kitty Cat complains. I haven't had time with all the work I've been given.”

He wound the cloth around her hand. “Those blisters are going to hurt when someone grabs your hand to spin you about when we square-dance at the social.”

“I told you that I shouldn't go with you to the social.”

“Shouldn't isn't the same as wouldn't.”

“You aren't going to let this go, are you?”

“No.” He grinned.

“Even after the social is over?”

“There will be other events that come up around the Fourth of July celebrations.” His smile widened. “So will you attend the Centennial social with me, or must I keep asking you?”

She tried not to let her eager heart answer for her. “I suspect you'll keep asking at times that are sure to create trouble for me.”

“If that's what I must do.”

“Why are you so insistent about this?”

“Because I hate to see you staying in this place for the rest of your life. If I can persuade you to take another look at the world beyond River's Haven, maybe you'll learn that remaining here is a mistake.”

“This is my home.”

“Just as the farm in Ohio was your home. You left that. You can leave here. Start by letting me escort you and K. C. to the social.”

“Kitty Cat? You want Kitty Cat to go to the social with us?”

“Of course not, but I thought you might be more willing to change your mind if I included K. C. in the plans.” He sat beside her on the sofa and ran his bent finger along her cheek. “What do you say, honey?”

“If I say no, you'll ask Kitty Cat directly, won't you?”

“No.”

“No?” Now she was the one astounded.

He gave her a cockeyed grin. “I don't want to hurt the kid. She's been hurt enough already, and she's going to be hurt more when you marry Foley.”

“I haven't decided if I'm going to marry him.”

“Are you still considering it?”

“Yes.”

“Just because your brother told you to?”

“Yes.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I guess I should be used to your honesty by now.”

“You expected me to lie?”

“You're like no other woman I've ever met,” he said softly. His long fingers curved along her shoulder. When she looked from them to his smile, he edged closer. She tried to move away, but his hand on her tightened. “Rachel,” he continued in the same husky whisper, “I don't want to steal you away from River's Haven. You can tell your brother and Foley that.”

BOOK: Moonlight on Water
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