“First off, you aren’t marrying Amy. Second, she’s not my kin. She’s Kathryn’s cousin. And third, I am not a slave trader. I never have been and never will be.”
Amy so wanted to believe Micah, but she’d seen the proof with her own eyes. Could she possibly have misinterpreted things that night in the barn? Tears trickled down her cheeks, wetting Micah’s shirt. He must be lying to keep his business a secret.
“I see the way of things. You want her for yourself.”
At Hank’s venomous words, Amy glanced toward him. His lips cocked in a disgusted sneer. “I never had a chance, did I?”
“You need to leave. Things aren’t always what they seem.” The tone in Micah’s voice sent a shiver down Amy’s spine.
Hank snorted a sound of disbelief and stomped past them. Micah turned, taking her with him so they could watch Hank leave. She heard the creak of the wagon as Hank boarded it and his angry, “Heyah!” The harness jingled as the wagon came into view. Hank turned it away from the barn, made a half circle, and disappeared from sight.
Amy’s whole body trembled, whether from the ordeal or Micah’s closeness, she wasn’t sure. He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Tears gushed forth as she rested in his embrace. She knew he was only trying to calm her, but she wished that it was because he held affections for her.
His gentling shushing calmed her, and after a few minutes, she quit crying. Sniffing, she leaned back. She couldn’t stand there all day letting Micah hold her. Well, maybe she could, but she was keeping him from his work.
He cleared his throat and looked down with concerned eyes. “You sure you’re all right?”
Amy wiped her cheeks with the handkerchief she kept stuffed up her sleeve and nodded. “He was snooping around, and I didn’t know how to get rid of him. Th–then he tried to kiss m–me.” The tears started again.
Micah took her by the shoulders. “Please don’t cry, Amy.”
She swiped her eyes again. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m just glad I showed up when I did.”
“Me, too.” Amy glanced up and looked at Micah’s handsome face. His gaze darted down to her lips then back to her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. Was he going to kiss her?
Micah rubbed his nape and looked at her lips again. Amy was sure she read longing in his gaze. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “I—uh, better go catch that mare. I was bringing one of the new horses up here from the pasture so I could start working with her.”
Disappointment coursed through Amy. She wouldn’t mind one bit sharing her first kiss with Micah, but she must have misread his expression. Still, she had to admit that he was more of a man than Hank. Micah would never force himself on a woman.
She watched him walk away, and it dawned on her that she hadn’t even tried to hide her feelings from him. Had she scared him off? Was he repulsed that his housekeeper had fallen in love with him?
Sighing, Amy exited the barn. Micah mounted his horse and trotted off. This was going to be a long day. Maybe it would be better for her to leave. How could she stay here knowing Micah didn’t share her feelings?
Fourteen
Micah eased forward, cooing to the skittish mare that had taken advantage of his distraction. He’d been riding Rusty and leading the black horse to the barn when he saw Hank Foster trying to kiss Amy and jumped off, leaving the horses untethered. Anger had surged through him to see that man’s hands on Amy. The fact that she might be a willing partner crossed his mind until he got close enough to see the fear on her face.
Hank was lucky. Micah wanted to knock the man crazy, but he yielded to God’s convicting hand and just sent Hank on his way.
The black mare lifted her head and snorted. She must have gotten a whiff of the oats in Micah’s hand, because she stretched her neck and used her big lips to scoop them up. He reached out and snagged her lead rope, causing the mare to jerk her head and try to rear. Holding tight, Micah crooned to her until she calmed down. Why couldn’t women be as easy to handle as horses?
He climbed on Rusty and led the mare back toward the barn. Micah thought of Amy’s big brown eyes staring up at him, shining with unshed tears. He’d almost given in to his desire to kiss her. And where had that thought come from? Thankfully, he’d been able to get out of the barn without embarrassing them both.
He remembered how his rebellious heart had responded when Amy was in his arms. She felt wonderful—different from Kathryn.
Thoughts of his deceased wife doused him like a bucket of cold water. Was he being unfaithful to Kathryn because he liked Amy?
Who was he kidding? He more than liked her; he had deep feelings for her. Yet, he couldn’t admit he loved her, but when he saw Hank manhandling her, he’d nearly gone mad.
Clicking his tongue, he nudged Rusty into a trot. It was getting close to noontime, and Amy and Sookie would have dinner waiting. Nervous anticipation at seeing Amy again battled the hunger pangs in his belly. Who would think a grown man—a father no less—would be excited to see his housekeeper when he’d just seen her a short while ago?
“Where you been?”
Micah looked up at the sound of Ben’s voice. He’d been so lost in thought he didn’t even realize he was back home. “The mare got away, and I went after her.”
Ben cocked an eyebrow then studied the black horse. “She doesn’t look all that spunky.”
“Maybe she’s tired from her gallivanting.” Micah pulled his horse to a stop and slid off.
“I’ll take her.” Ben held out his hand, and Micah gave him the mare’s lead rope.
“Thanks.” Micah led Rusty to his stall and dropped the reins.
“Saw Hank Foster on the trail heading to town. He didn’t look too happy.”
Micah uncinched Rusty’s saddle, not sure how much to tell Ben. “He came to see Amy.”
Ben pivoted, brows lifted. “Again?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t think she harbors affections for him, do you?”
If Micah hadn’t seen Amy’s fearful expression when Hank held her, he would have wondered the same thing. But she made it clear that she had no feelings for the man. On the other hand, did Micah dare hope she held affections for him? When she looked at him after Hank left, there was something in her eyes that took his breath away.
“Besides, it’s clear that Amy only has eyes for one man.” Ben walked over and leaned his arms on the top railing of the next stall.
Micah’s heart stumbled at Ben’s comment. He looked at his brother, whose eyes twinkled as his mouth curved up in a lopsided grin. “Who?”
Ben blinked. “Oh, come on! Are you that dense, big brother? She’s in love with me!”
Numb, Micah stared at Ben. Had he lost his heart to the woman his brother loved? Unable to face Ben’s scrutiny, he turned back to Rusty, feeling as if a cyclone had blown away all his hopes and dreams. It was almost as if he’d lost Kathryn all over—only this time he’d lost Amy.
Behind him he heard a snort. Then Ben broke out in a gale of laughter. “You’re so gullible at times.”
Confused, Micah turned around.
Ben slapped his leg, his blue-green eyes danced with mirth. “I knew it! Yep, I was right. You have feelings for Amy.”
“And you don’t?” Micah held his breath, hoping. He could never steal the woman his brother loved, no matter how much he cared for her.
“Well, sure I like her. When she first came, I was a bit addle-brained over her, but she’s too old for me.”
Micah realized he’d never asked Amy her age, but she couldn’t be all that much older than Ben. “How old is she?”
“Almost twenty.”
“That’s not old.”
“Depends on your perspective.” An ornery grin tilted Ben’s lips. “So what are you going to do, now that we both know you care for her?”
“Nothing.”
Ben blinked, all traces of playfulness gone. “Why not? You going to wait around for someone l
ike Hank to win her over? Not that she’s that dumb.”
It wasn’t the first time Micah had considered such a thought. He didn’t want to lose Amy, but was he ready to remarry?
“I know what you’re thinking. But men remarry quickly when they have a family.”
Micah stared at Ben. It was hard to believe his little brother was growing up. Finally. His words made sense.
“I think you ought to marry up with her before some other fellow stakes a claim and steals her away. It’s obvious you care for her.” Ben pushed away from the rails and crossed the barn.
Micah considered his words. He’d been praying what to do. Was this God’s confirmation?
He’d married for love once, and it hadn’t been what he’d expected. Kathryn never fully adjusted to farm life, and it created a breach between them that they had never gotten past. But Amy was different. She plunged into farm life as if she’d been raised on one. The girls loved her. His home had never been so clean or run so smoothly. He couldn’t imagine life here without her. But was marrying her the right thing to do?
❧
Missy’s cries pierced Amy’s ears. The poor thing must be teething, at least that’s what Sookie thought. Having no experience with babies, Amy hoped that was all that was wrong with her.
“Missy’s cwying too loud. I can’t sleep.” Beth sat up in her bed, her dark hair a mess and her doll in her arms. “Make her be quiet like Sophie.”
Amy smiled. Beth had renamed her doll after Tierney’s daughter. “I’ll take Missy outside, so she won’t bother you.” Pushing up from the rocking chair, she glanced at Sookie, who was stirring a bowl of cornmeal mush for tomorrow’s breakfast.
Sookie nodded. “I’ll keep watch over Miz Beth.”
Outside, Amy jiggled Missy on her shoulder and patted the child’s back as the wailing continued. She was such a good little thing that it made Amy ache to know she was in pain. Amy hoped Beth wouldn’t give Sookie too much trouble. With the sun setting later now that summer had arrived, it was harder to get Beth to go to bed at her regular time.
Amy followed the path to her garden. Often, in the cool of the morning, she worked it before the children woke up. Amy smiled. Beth liked to help her, but she was as likely to pull a healthy vegetable seedling as a weed.
A bright yellow butterfly danced from blossom to blossom. Studying the various plants, she made a mental note to pick cucumbers tomorrow. They’d soon have enough to make pickles. Her mouth watered. The ripe green vegetable beckoned to her, and she yielded to temptation. Holding Missy tight with one arm, she reached over the fence and tugged a small, ripe cucumber off its vine. A fresh fragrance scented the evening air as Amy wiped it on her apron and bit it in half, enjoying its crunchiness and fresh flavor that teased her tongue.
She shifted Missy down to her arm, and when the baby wailed again, Amy dabbed the cucumber across the baby’s tongue. Missy wriggled, making it hard for Amy to hold her with one arm. Suddenly, the child stopped crying, scrunched up her face at the unusual flavor, and smacked her tongue.
Amy giggled at Missy’s surprised expression. “Did you like that? Huh? Want some more?” Thankful for the quiet, Amy swiped the cucumber across the baby’s tongue again. Missy smacked her lips and grinned, making Amy smile and her heart warm.
She loved this child so much. Amy couldn’t imagine leaving the Walsh farm and never seeing Missy or Beth again. She’d found the home she’d always wanted. Only it wasn’t her home. If she could stay here forever, she didn’t think she’d ever ask God for another thing.
“Don’t you think she’s a bit young to eat cucumbers?”
Amy jumped at the sound of Micah’s deep voice and soft masculine laughter. She’d been so engrossed in feeding Missy that she hadn’t even heard Micah’s approach. Glancing up, she noticed Ben and Jonah were with him. All three men smiled. Amy’s cheeks heated, knowing they must have been watching her.
“That child’s sure having a time of it.” Jonah’s gap-toothed smile illuminated his whole face.
Amy plopped the remaining vegetable in her own mouth and lifted Missy back to her shoulder. The baby fidgeted then let out a wail that Micah was sure to be proud of. Amy swallowed and looked up. “I was just walking Missy because she’s keeping Beth awake.”
“Mind if I walk with you?”
Her legs turned to liquid at the warm look in Micah’s eyes. Could he possibly want to spend time with her? Or was he just concerned about his daughter?
Ben’s lips turned up in an ornery grin, and he nudged Micah in the ribs. Micah gave him a scowl then held his arms out for Missy. Reluctantly, Amy handed over the child.
“Come along, Benjamin. I want to show you something.” Jonah took hold of Ben’s shirt and all but hauled him away.
Ben looked over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows up and down. Amy wondered what he meant by that. Micah’s brother could act so silly at times.
Micah started down the trail that led to the cornfield. Amy wasn’t sure whether to follow or go back inside and help Sookie. She tried hard not to intrude on Micah’s time with his daughter, since he had so little time to spend with the baby.
He stopped and turned her direction. “You coming?”
When she didn’t reply, he nudged out his elbow in a silent appeal. Amy glanced over her shoulders to see if Ben and Jonah were still in sight and breathed a sigh of relief that they were gone. Moving forward, she tried to keep her hand from shaking as she looped her arm through Micah’s. She knew he was just being polite, but she relished being alone with him, even with a fussy baby.
Micah led her down the trail, talking softly and cooing to Missy. When the cabin was out of sight, he slowed and stared at the cornfields. Amy wondered what he was thinking about.
“Looks like the corn’s doing well. Not that I know much about it,” she said.
Micah nodded. “We could use some rain though. You know, it’s ironic. I lost the past two years’ crops because of too much rain, and now I’m wishing we’d get some.”
Had he asked her along merely to talk about the weather? Amy peeked up at Micah, noticing the muscle in his jaw twitching. The dark shadow of whiskers made him even more handsome in her eyes. Her heart ached with the desire to tell him how she felt, but she had no experience with men and didn’t know if it was proper.
As Micah jiggled Missy, the child finally gave in to sleep. Amy sighed. It had been a long day, and she hadn’t accomplished nearly as much as she’d hope because of Missy’s fussiness.
Micah heaved a sigh and turned to face her, his expression serious. Amy’s heart jolted. Was he unhappy about something?
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.” Micah finally looked at her, making Amy’s inside’s turn to pudding. “I realize we haven’t known each other long, but I think we get along well.”
Amy nodded, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I. . .uh, was wondering. . .if you’d consent to marry me.”
Fifteen
Amy’s skin tightened on her face, and her whole body shook. Surely Micah wouldn’t tease about something like marriage. She studied his steady gaze and knew he was dead serious.
“I—I know it’s sudden.” A quick look of panic stole through Micah’s eyes, and he rubbed his neck with his free hand. “But you wouldn’t have to worry about Hank Foster or some other yahoo asking you to marry him. You’d always have a home, and the girls love you.”
But do you love me? she wanted to ask.
“I wouldn’t ask you for a complete marriage. I mean—well, you know.” Micah’s ears turned a bright red, and he looked away. “It’d be more like a business deal.”
Amy was sure her heart had dropped clear down to her shoes. He didn’t want a true marriage? Well, maybe she didn’t either—at least not if he didn’t love her. But she’d have the home she’d always wanted and would never have to leave the girls. Would their love be enough? Was this God’s answer to her prayers?
“Don’t answer now. Ju
st think about it. All right?”
There was only one thing about him that she couldn’t abide—slave trading. She glanced at Micah, who fidgeted at her lengthy silence. Oh, Lord, give me guidance.
After a few moments, Amy lifted her chin. “All right, I will marry you—under two conditions.”
Micah blinked. “What conditions?”
“That you quit slave trading, and you never go off and leave your family again.”
Micah’s lips turned up in a slow grin. “I’ll do my best not to leave again, but on the first issue, you’re going to have to trust me.”
❧
Amy lay in bed, listening to Sookie’s soft snores. She still couldn’t believe she had agreed to marry Micah two days ago. They decided not to tell anyone until they had all the details worked out.
She turned onto her side. The open window allowed a hint of light from the near full moon to illuminate the dark room. This would soon be her home, and she would be Amy Christine Walsh. Mrs. Micah Walsh.
Amy marveled at how far she’d come in a few short months. God had brought her here, healed her wounded soul, and given her a place to belong. She couldn’t help wondering what Kathryn would think about it.
And she still didn’t know what Micah had meant about trusting him concerning his slave trading, but she was willing to try. Maybe she’d misconstrued what she’d heard and seen in the barn that day.
The Virginia Commonwealth was now her home, and she loved it. No more frigid Boston winters. Her only regret was that she lived too far away to visit the ocean. But the beautiful Shenandoah Valley had stolen her heart with its lush greenery, its unusual Virginia bluebells that started out as pink buds and then matured into blue, bell-shaped flowers, and its colorful cardinals, blue jays, and flittering hummingbirds. Not to mention a quiet man who’d stolen her heart.
The front door squeaked as it opened, making Amy jump. The men never came inside after they’d gone to bed. Her thoughts skittered around for something she could use for a weapon if an intruder was in the house. Tossing off the covers, she sat up and listened.
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