Surrender the Wind (12 page)

Wind stirred the trees outside, whispered down the flue of the chimney, and drifted through the open window. Juleah pulled away. “The room grows cold with that wind.” Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips parted to take in a breath. She crossed the room, drew the window closed, and dragged the drapes over it. “I’ll send Claire to build up the fire. I suppose we shall have more rain tonight and …”

Seth stared at the floor, instantly contrite. “Miss Fallowes.” He interrupted her nervous chatter with deliberate firmness.

Juleah paused at the door.

“Please forgive me. I went too far.”

She shifted her gaze away from his. In spite of the high emotions that passed between them, Juleah forced the tears back, and a trembling smile spread gently over her lips. “Let us say goodnight and not speak of this again.”

He watched her step from the room. The urge to stop her overwhelmed him to the point that he headed down the hall after her.

“I am quite starved,” he said. “Have you had supper?”

T
he following morning, dawn streamed through the window. Warmth alighted upon Seth's face and brought him back to the real world. The candle on the table, the tray of bandages, and the empty mug were reminders of the night before.

He struggled into clean clothes and pulled on his boots. A confusing mix of elation and pain troubled him. He splashed cold water from the basin on his face and dried it with a rough towel. For some time, he sat in a chair in front of the fireplace, stared at the embers that glowed in the grate, and prayed for guidance.

Part of him filled with chivalrous emotion, the other with overwhelming loneliness. The feel of her would not leave—the smooth texture of her lips, the warmth of her companionship. The thoughts they had shared opened her up to him. She had told him more about her family, the kindness of her mother, the dutiful father who had grown eccentric, energetic Thomas, Jane, and Peter, her brother who had died in America. She shared with him her love for herb gardens, how she wished she could study as men did and become proficient in horticulture.

He discovered she held deep spiritual beliefs, the greatest being hope of life beyond the material world.

Seth left his room and found Juleah out in the garden wrapped in her dove-gray cloak. As he approached, she yanked from the soil the dry remnants of a marigold plant.

“The garden has been neglected.” Her tone was somber. He helped her up and she regarded him with forlorn eyes. “I know what you wish to say.”

“You can read my mind?” He smiled lightly.

“The eyes of a man are the windows to his soul, Mr. Braxton. Do not say that you love me.”

He drew her to him and cupped her face within his hands. “You want me to withhold my feelings?”

“It is too soon.” She slipped out of his reach.

“On my life, I do not understand.”

He marveled at her reaction, the change in her mood. “I am glad we talked last night. I remember the clock striking two before we said goodnight.”

Juleah let out a heavy sigh and pushed back her hair from her face. “I received a letter from my mother. It has been more than a month I have been away, and she misses me. So, I must go home to Henry Chase.”

Before Seth could reply, she turned and walked back into the house.

Juleah shut the door behind her. She went to the window and stared across the span of green and beyond. Mist lay in glossy white ribbons in the lowlands. The scarlet light of morning touched upon the dew-drenched bracken.

She shoved aside angry tears.

Her feelings for Seth frightened her. How could she fall in love with a rebel? No doubt he longed for Virginia, would sell
Ten Width, and leave. If she allowed something more to grow between them, he’d break her heart.

Perhaps he cared nothing for her, and this was just a
moment
. Oh, but it had felt warm and wonderful the way he kissed her.

She flung herself down upon her knees at the bedside. Covering her face in her arms, she prayed for answers. Seth Braxton stirred up such strong feelings within her that she wanted to shout. What had drawn her to him? Was it his solid self-confidence, his sense of duty, his spiritual conviction? Or was it his ability to make her feel as if she’d known him all her life and that she deserved to be loved? What did she discover beneath his handsome surface that pulled her in?

She raised her head and stared at the letter that lay open on the bed from her mother. She took the rest of her clothes from the cupboard and folded them into her traveling bag.

A moment later, she heard a knock at her door. Caroline peered inside.

“I need to go home, Caroline,” Juleah said, without stopping her packing. “My mother has written to me. You know how she frets when I am away.”

“Yes, I know. I have been so comforted by you, Juleah, that I shall forever be in your debt.”

Juleah put her arms around Caroline and squeezed. “You must promise to treat yourself well.”

“It will take time, but I’ll try to do as you say.” Caroline gave her a broody frown. “Why are you behaving strangely?”

“I miss home.” She gathered up an armload of snowy linens and tossed them on the bedcover.

Caroline, looking worried, touched Juleah's shoulder. “I believe my brother is fond of you. Is that why you are going? Is it because of Seth?”

Juleah sighed and tried to give Caroline a reassuring look. “My mother needs me, that's all. I’ve been here too long.”

“Does Seth know?” Caroline sat on the edge of the rumpled bed.

“Yes.” Juleah put the last chemise in her bag. She turned to Caroline. “He fell off his horse last night, so he says.”

Alarmed, Caroline stood. “Is he hurt? He's no broken bones, has he?”

“None.” Juleah bit her lip. He was hurt
—
inwardly.

“I must go to him.”

Juleah clutched Caroline's hand. “You have no reason to worry.”

“I wager he rode Grandfather's horse. Jupiter is high-spirited.”

Juleah picked up her gilded horsehair brush and tossed it into her carpetbag. “I do not know which horse he rode.”

“Oh, Juleah. Why did you not wake me?”

Juleah stumbled at the question. “I’m sorry, but he did not want me to disturb you. It was late.” She closed the clasp on the bag and dragged it off the bed.

Caroline glanced down at the bag, then back at Juleah. “Has something happened between you and Seth? Do you not like him?”

Juleah laid her head to one side. “I need to go home, that's all.” Was the pretense in her excuse obvious to Caroline? Caroline was not prying. Juleah was relieved she raised no objections and asked no further questions.

She hugged her dear friend good-bye, gathered her bag, and went down the stairs. She turned to see Caroline standing at the rail of the staircase. “I understand,” Caroline said. “You must seek your heart, Juleah.”

Juleah replied with a nod and left the house. The crisp morning air touched her face, and she breathed it in. Along the horizon, clouds streaked across a pale sky. Trees brilliant with autumn gold and scarlet swayed in the breeze. Jeweled leaves floated down to blanket the earth, and in the distance cows lowed.

When she entered the stable, the horses sighed in their stalls.

“I didn’t expect to see you going, Miss Juleah,” Will said. “It troubles me you are traveling alone. I ought to come along.”

Juleah pulled her horse forward. “You needn’t worry. Henry Chase is only two miles down the road. Help me onto my horse, and I’ll be on my way.”

Will lifted her up, and she secured her right knee around the pommel of the saddle. She gathered the reins within her gloved hands and nudged the mare on. At a trot, it went down the drive toward the massive gates of Ten Width. The urge to look back overwhelmed Juleah. She raised her face to the sky and kept her eyes forward.

Seth stood at his window with his heart in his throat. He believed she was leaving Ten Width because of him. He watched her move the horse out onto the road, her cloak spread out behind her. He hoped she’d turn and look back. She never did, and he twisted his lower lip in disappointment.

The clock in his room ticked away. Minutes passed that seemed to gather into hours. Suddenly, he hurried from the room, rushed downstairs, and ran out the front door. With no time to spare, he threw a saddle on Jupiter's back and mounted, ignoring the pain in his side. He kicked the horse's sides with a fury, until Jupiter reared forward and shot off down the lane.

He turned to the right at the gates, looked for her, and snapped the reins for Jupiter to gallop on. He pushed his heels against the sides of his horse, until at a high point in the road he called out. She turned her head, but did not rein in her mount. Seth let out a breath of frustration. Shaking the reins, he urged Jupiter on, down the slope at a gallop.

Ahead, Juleah's horse whinnied. It reared and threw her from the saddle. She fell with a thud onto the hard ground, moved, and pushed herself up on her elbows. What had frightened her horse crept in front of her. A hound, maddened by the presence of the frightened mare, bared its teeth at her and growled. Crazed eyes marked Juleah. Gray, wolfish hair bristled on its back, while saliva dripped from its jowls.

Before Juleah's cry escaped her mouth, Seth vaulted off his horse, stood in the road, raised his pistol, and cocked the hammer. The beast turned toward him. It was the same mangy creature he had encountered the night before. It snarled, crouched on its haunches, and lunged. Seth fired. The hound yelped, twisted, and fell dead in front of Juleah.

When Seth reached her, she was gray with fear, but her eyes were brave. He fell upon his knees beside her. “Are you hurt?”

Her body shivered. “I’m all right, I think.” She moved, and a sudden pain gripped her. “I have injured my arm,” she said alarmed.

“Let me see.” He pressed his fingers with care along wrist and forearm. He moved her hand back and forth. “You’ll have a nasty bruise.”

She reached her arms out to him. He lifted her and stepped away from the dead animal.

“Are you fit to carry me?” she inquired.

He ignored her question. “Henry Chase is not far. I’ll escort you home.”

“I have caused you enough trouble.”

“Yes, you have.”

“Why did you follow after me if I vexed you so?”

He paused in the road, to gaze down at her. “It was a good thing I did. Would you not say?”

She looked up at him. Her eyes were moist and sparkled with the morning light. Seth's heart moved within him, and his love for her deepened with each breath he drew. Why was she afraid to love him back? Had another man hurt her and caused her to fear love and mistrust men? Or was love new to her? Perhaps it was none of these. Perhaps she ran from him for being a rebel, a foreigner to her country, one who inherited what he had not been born to.

“We should go,” she said, marking his hesitation.

He carried her over to her horse and set her up in the saddle. Then he put his foot in his stirrup and pulled up beside her to take her mare's reins.

When they reached Henry Chase, Lady Anna rushed out of the house. Chickens and dogs ran around her legs, clucked, barked, and yapped wildly. Children and husband followed her. Seth dismounted and helped Juleah down. Anna Fallowes cried out when she saw that her daughter was injured, though slightly. Questions flowed out of her like a breaking dam. She
put her arm around Juleah and drew her away, but not before thanking the new squire.

“A wild dog, you say, threw her from her mare? Oh, Mr. Braxton, thank you for saving my Juleah from such a beast.”

Seth bowed his head. “My honor, madam.”

She leaned toward him as he walked alongside. “It's been terrorizing the neighborhood for some time now. You’ve done everybody a favor. No one has been able to kill the mean brute. It carried off one of my chickens two nights ago and frightened Sir Henry's dogs. I am grateful you killed it and have seen my Juleah safely home.”

Sir Henry placed a firm hand on Seth's shoulder. “We are indebted to you, sir, in the most profound way.”

“Come inside, Mr. Braxton. What shall we give you to satisfy your gallant deed?” said Lady Anna. “We’ve a warm pie on the table.”