Ben tried to hide his surprise, but Isaac read his expression. “Yep, she’d been askin’—over and over,” he said with a nod. “But I can’t be swayed. Not this time. When you’re ready, you can buy it from me, bit by bit—”
“No, sir.”
“I know what you’ve told me,” Isaac said, raising his hand for silence. “But there’s somethin’ else I want you to consider ’fore you go through with the Challenge. I’m gettin’ on up there in years, and I need someone to run this place, someone to take over. Isabella’s taken a real shine to you, I know that. Middleton’ll belong to her one day, but she’s gonna need someone to help her with it, someone who knows horses. She’s like her ma—all Charleston finery and fanciness. You understand?”
The softness in Isaac’s expression melted Ben’s frustration. He was used to others not believing in him and making backhanded compliments, but with Isaac, there was a tenderness and a well-meaning heart that was special and unusual. Ben could see it in his eyes; it was the closest thing to a fatherly love he had experienced in a very long time. “Yes, sir,” he said, trying his best to sound respectful. “I appreciate what you think of me, honest I do. But my mind’s fixed on running my own place. And I aim to do that after I win that race.”
“Well,” Isaac said with a sigh, hanging his head and kicking the ground with his boot, “I hope you prove me wrong. But if for some reason you decide you don’t wanna run, no one’ll think the lesser of you for it. A man’s gotta do what’s best under the circumstances. You’re the best horseman ’round these parts, but even the best riders can make mistakes on that steeplechase. It can be brutal. I’ve seen men fall, break their necks—horses break a leg. You gotta ask yourself, is it worth it? You say you don’t care what people think, but you might decide differently one day. Respect’ll come your way again—eventually—if you decide not to run. People forget. They always do.”
“Goodness Daddy!” Isabella exclaimed as she wandered toward them, wearing a frosty pink linen blouse with pearl buttons, dark blue riding skirt, and a brown leather belt that matched her boots. She reminded Ben of a pale rosebud just beginning to bloom. “You sure are talking Ben’s ears off when he oughta be training.”
“It’s all right,” Ben said, smiling at Isaac. “Makes me feel like I’m talking to my own pa.”
“Well, that is sweet.” She kissed her father on the cheek and rubbed his whiskers. “I brought y’all something to eat. It’s on the porch, all laid out. Clara fixed up some strawberry cobbler and shortbread cookies, and I’ve got some fresh-squeezed lemonade in the pitcher.”
“That sounds real good, darlin’.” Isaac returned Isabella’s kiss with a light peck on the forehead. “I do believe I’ll head on up to the house and kick my feet up for a spell.”
“All right, Daddy. I’ll be up soon!” Isabella called to him as he made his way back to the house. Ben found it amusing to watch the contrast of Isaac’s casual, loping gait to the opulence of such a fine home as the Middleton mansion. On the back of the house there were six large, white columns which supported an upper balcony and a large lower porch that was about as big as the kitchen and sitting room of Ben’s farm. Eight wooden rocking chairs and a porch swing on either end provided ample space to relax after supper. Ben enjoyed his evenings rocking with Isaac and the other men, talking about the day’s events and the news from town, and watching the hanging Boston ferns sway in the breeze. Yet, despite the warmth and hospitality he felt at Middleton, he couldn’t help thinking about Fairington and what Billy, Tom, and the other trainers were doing—and Angelina.
“Well,” Isabella purred as she stroked Midnight Storm’s nose, “you wanna ride with me into town? I’ve got some shopping to do and thought you might want to come along.”
“I don’t know,” Ben said, trying not to notice the blush in her cheeks and the gentle waves in her brown hair. She was breathtaking, as usual, but there was still something missing that he couldn’t quite identify. “Might even buy you a little something at Davis Supply,” she said, batting her eyelashes in an obvious way that almost made Ben laugh. “I saw you eyeing those new chambray shirts they got in last week.” She looked up at him and smiled extra big. “There was a dusty blue that would look real nice against your dark skin.”
“I won’t have you buying me clothes, Isabella.”
“Well, you do need something nice to wear when you beat Edward in the Challenge next week, don’t you think?”
Ben studied her expression, wondering if she was sincere in her claims he could win. “I don’t take charity from anyone.”
“Charity?” she giggled. “I don’t give charity. I give presents to people I like. And I like you,” she said, running her thumb along the leather of his boot. “Don’t you know that by now?”
“Isabella.” Ben glared at her, suddenly feeling guilty, like he was committing an act of betrayal. She frowned, and the guilt only worsened. He didn’t like using that tone of voice or treating her so rough, but he wasn’t in the mood to waste time on her girlish behavior. “I’ll take you into town, but then I’ve got work to do.”
“May I ride with you?” she asked, peering at him from under her long, dark eyelashes.
“No, I think you better get Meg. It’s about time you rode your own horse into town.”
Her chin lowered as her eyes flittered a moment and then looked toward the ground. He knew she was upset, but he wouldn’t budge. What was foremost on his mind was getting back to work and preparing Midnight Storm for the Challenge.
Angelina was late meeting Jessie for lunch at the Blue Ridge Hotel. She and Tom had gone over the books and met with Dr. Barnes, the veterinarian, for a biannual review of the horses, and so the morning had gotten away from her. Things were going very well at Fairington, even with Ben being at Middleton Farm for two weeks now. She missed him terribly but didn’t let Jessie or Tom or the boys know, although she was sure Ella suspected. It was hard to get anything past Ella.
Eagle’s Wing cantered toward Main Street and then slowed to a trot as they passed the Methodist Church, Davis Supply, post office, and Nelson’s Grocery, which was advertising a special on fresh fruits and vegetables. Angelina waved to a few people, even Rebecca Thompson and Miranda Sutherland, who whispered to each other and pointed as they window shopped, as well as some of her mama’s friends from the Laurel Grove Women’s Society. She passed the Corner Pharmacy and several more boutiques and shops, including Hadden’s Haberdashery, where her daddy had purchased all of his clothes, finally arriving at the Blue Ridge.
It was the first Wednesday of the month, and Mabel always served Jessie’s favorite on this day—pot roast with onions, carrots, and new potatoes, green bean casserole with cheddar cheese and bread crumbs, biscuits, and hot apple pie with whipped cream for dessert. Angelina’s mouth watered thinking about the dark, succulent meat that was cooked all night in ham hocks and Mabel’s special beef stock.
Dismounting, she tied Eagle’s Wing to the hitching post and stepped inside, taking in the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen. The clock over the mantel chimed once, indicating it was half past eleven. Mabel normally didn’t start serving until noon, so the restaurant was empty of other patrons, which suited Angelina just fine. She wiggling her hands out of her riding gloves and wandered into the foyer, trying her best to ignore the shame that filtered through her insides at the sight of her naked ring finger. The diamond was safely tucked away in her jewelry box at home, since she still couldn’t bear to wear it. Ella and Jessie knew about Edward, so there was no need to keep it hidden away in her pocket any longer.
A wave of nausea washed over Angelina every time she thought of actually going through with a wedding to Edward. Why won’t Isaac cut a deal with me? she thought. She had tried everything with that man, but had gotten nowhere—which left her with no other option. But how can I really marry Edward Millhouse? she had asked herself a thousand times. How could she give Ben up? And yet, he would get his land back. He would b
e happy.
Her mind wandered briefly, thinking of how she might watch Ben from under the oak tree as he restored his family home. They could see each other as often as they wanted, but one day there would surely be a wife and children. Ben wanted a family, like all men. Angelina bit her lip, fighting back the tears. If Isaac bought the farm, there would be no doubt Isabella would eventually win his heart. But if Angelina gave the land to him outright, perhaps he would wait for her. Perhaps something horrible would happen to Edward—
“No, Lord,” she whispered. “Those aren’t my thoughts. I won’t think such evil things.” She pulled her lace handkerchief from her dress sleeve and wiped her nose, sniffing back the tears. Something inside of her kept saying, wait, wait. But for what, she didn’t know. She needed a sign, some message from the Lord as to what to do. The race was in a week and there was no indication Ben was recovered enough to defeat Edward. And yet, she remembered something her mama used to say, “What is impossible with man, is possible with God. For all things are possible with the Lord.”
Can Ben really win? she wondered. A ray of hope filled her soul for a moment, like the sun peeking from behind a cloud on a rainy day. Is there a possibility after all? She wanted to believe it, but the facts pointed to the obvious, replacing the brightness with a thick cloud of doubt. Edward was coming for dinner tonight, and he was insisting that she make a decision. Ella had cleaned the house from top to bottom and had ironed Angelina’s powder blue silk dress with ivory lace trim and laid it out on the bed. And the meal she had planned was fit for a king. She was preparing asparagus and cream cheese biscuits as an appetizer and a main dish of chicken pot pie with a puff pastry crust, baby lima beans, Silver Queen corn, fresh garden tomatoes, and an orange-glazed spice cake for dessert. Angelina didn’t know how she was going to eat anything, feeling this nausea in the pit of her stomach.
As she passed through the parlor, Angelina caught a glimpse of her reflection in the gilded mirror over the fireplace. Her face seemed distorted and odd—as if she should have recognized the person looking back, but the sad countenance and droopy shoulders didn’t resemble the Angelina Raeford she had always known. She paused and looked closely at her appearance, pinching her cheeks for color, when suddenly, Edward’s distinctive laughter sliced through the air, followed by Jessie’s cackle. Mabel’s voice joined in on the reverie as a pot clanged against the sink.
“Oh, you should’ve seen the look on Angelina’s face when Daddy caught her and Ben up at Palmetto Ridge!” Jessie giggled as she talked. Angelina tiptoed through the dining room, carefully creeping around the corner to sneak a peek into the kitchen. Jessie sat at the pine table, entertaining Edward, who pretended to hang onto her every word, even though Angelina knew his mind was on horses or business or getting his hands on Fairington. As usual, he looked extraordinarily handsome in a black leather vest and white shirt. His eyes gleamed as he listened to Jessie tell more, and when she laughed extra hard, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. Angelina had never seen her sister blush because of a man before, but there she sat, her cheeks flushing a dusty rose and her head tilting down so that she gazed back at him with a downward glance. Angelina felt the nausea surge through her body with a vengeance.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in!” Mabel said, spotting Angelina behind the doorway. “We thought you’d forgotten about us. Jessie and Edward were just filling me in on everything going on at Fairington. Said Ben’s gone over to Middleton Farm to work with Isaac. And I hear Isabella’s got her sights set on him.” Mabel smiled and winked at Angelina. “Why, they would make a nice couple, don’t you think? I know his mama would’ve liked her.”
Edward rose to his feet while Jessie stayed frozen in her seat. Angelina smiled at Mabel and then glared at her sister, wanting to reach out and smack her good across the face. “Jessie, you always did know how to tell a story, didn’t you?” Angelina asked, smiling sweetly.
“My dear,” Edward interrupted, “you’re looking lovely, as usual.” He reached for her left hand, but she quickly hid it in the folds of her skirt.
“Edward was just telling us about Almighty and how he’s training him for the Carolina Challenge,” Jessie said, her ashen face turning beet red. She sputtered over her words and then gave Angelina a nod, as though she was accomplishing some clandestine mission. “And he’s gotta couple of other horses he’s working too. Like Hallelujah and White Cloud.”
“Yes, I’m sure he does.” Angelina met his gaze and tried to smile but felt her mouth form a hard line. It always made her cringe when he looked at her with that smirk, as if he could see right through her petticoat. “Mabel, I just came by to say hi, but I need to get on back to Fairington, so I’ll come by for some of that pot roast next time, alright? Edward, you think I could talk business with you a minute? I wanna hear about that new feed you’re using on the horses.” She shot a look toward Jessie and shook her head, warning her not to interfere. “Jessie, I’ll see you at home. Bye, now.”
She stomped outside, not even hearing Mabel’s reply. As soon as she got to the steps of the front porch, Edward grabbed her hand. “Angelina.” He looked at her ring finger, noticing where the diamond should be. “Do I take this as a no?”
“You’re coming for supper tonight. I’ll let you know then, like I said.”
“Good. ’Cause I’ve waited long enough—too long. And so has Isaac Richardson.”
“I don’t want to hear any more about Isaac Richardson owning Ben’s land. He’s running that race after all, so how do you know he won’t win?” Her eyes narrowed as she returned Edward’s stare. “Remember the Promenade?”
His jaw flexed and a dark look came over him. “You sign those papers tonight. Sam Turner and I have been chomping at the bit to get this over and done with. We’ve made sure everything is good and legal, like you asked.”
“Those are two words that will never describe you, Edward Millhouse.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He grabbed her around the waist and brought his mouth toward hers, but she pushed him away.
“And another thing,” she hissed, “I don’t like you sweet talking Jessie into believing your charms and getting her to tell stories about me and Ben. I won’t have you turning my own sister against me. I told you to stay away from her.”
Suddenly, the dark look took on a sinister appearance that was frightening. “Don’t tell me what to do, you hear?” He pushed her against the side of the house and kissed her hard, so that she gasped for breath, repulsed by his taste. She tried to pull away, but his fingers groped her neck, keeping her face locked before him. Shame filled her to the core as he stopped for a moment and stared at her like a trapped animal—she was sure Mabel was watching, and Jessie too.
“Edward, stop. People can see.”
“Let ’em,” he growled. “I want them to know what’s mine.”
The clop of horse hooves prompted him to release his hold, allowing her to wiggle away as a group of riders trotted down the street. She felt the heat rush to her face at Isabella staring at them with wide eyes while riding past on her dappled gray mare. Ben was next to her on Midnight Storm, but he never looked in their direction. Instead, he kicked the stallion in the sides and cantered toward town.
CHAPTER 24
Ben stood outside Davis Supply & Co. with the blue chambray shirt wrapped in brown paper, waiting for Isabella to finish her shopping. He had decided not to fight her desire to buy him a gift, even if it still felt like charity. He did need the shirt, and it would be nice to wear something new on the day of the Challenge. But the pain of her making such a fuss in front of the store clerk over the color of the shirt and how it “enhanced the tone of his skin and eyes” made Ben wince. Sometimes her silliness made him regret coming to Middleton after all.
A few people nodded to him as they passed, like Tom White, the barber, and Phillip Mercer, the editor of the local newspaper, but Ben wasn’t really in the mood to be friendly. He couldn’t stop thinking
about Edward touching Angelina in that cruel way—and in public, for everyone to see. The dark memories of his mother came rushing back, bringing with it that horrible taste of hatred in his mouth. Lord, I know I’m supposed to forgive, but I sure would like to teach that man a lesson, Ben silently prayed. He stroked Midnight Storm’s neck and gave the stallion a sugar cube. “Can’t wait to run that race,” he whispered in its ear.
Isabella finally emerged from the store, weighed down with four more parcels. “Oh, Ben, can you take these for me? I just spoke to Rebecca, and she says I must get to the milliner and see the new hats on display. Please say you’ll wait,” she said in a high-pitched baby voice, which she often used on her father when she was in need of something. “I promise I won’t be long.”
“All right,” he said, with a sigh. “But I’m not standing here anymore. I’m gonna take Midnight Storm for a walk.”
“A walk? Where to?” she asked, suddenly looking worried.
“Just around. I’ll meet you back here in a half hour. Otherwise, you’re gonna have to ride yourself home, you hear?”
Her lower lip protruded slightly in a feigned pout. “You don’t have to get angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” he said, suppressing a smile.
The pout disappeared as quickly as it had come, blending into a bright smile to match his. “All right, then. I’ll see you later.” Rising up on her tiptoes, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, which brought a rush of warmth through his face and neck.
Where Love Runs Free (Tales from the Upcountry) Page 17
