Rachel lowered her eyes. It would be expected that she give Mrs. Sawyer congratulations on the impending birth. She could not. Her mother and cousins had had this happy glow when they received news of the coming child … and then they had died.
Both women turned as Rachel walked toward where they stood beside a pair of rocking chairs. Again that twinge struck her. She must speak to the steward in the woodworking shop in River’s Haven about having a rocker made for her cottage. Rocking Kitty Cat to sleep would be so wonderful. Reminding herself that she should not be thinking of such a thing now when the little girl was missing, she greeted the two women.
Miss Underhill gave her a terse “good afternoon,” then bid Mrs. Sawyer a good day. The glare that the schoolteacher fired in her direction told Rachel that Miss Underhill did not want to be in the company of someone from River’s Haven. Rachel should be accustomed by now to the insult, but each time it hurt. If those who were frightened by the Community would come out to see how peaceful and prosperous it was, maybe they would set aside their prejudices.
“Miss Browning, right?” asked Mrs. Sawyer.
“You have a good memory.”
“It’s important when one is running a store.” Mrs. Sawyer smiled.
“Is Sean here?”
“He just ran down to the train station for me. Do you want to wait?”
“No. I’m looking for Kitty Cat.”
“Again?” The shopkeeper’s face became abruptly serious. “Is she lost?”
“Not exactly lost. She left me a note that she was going to visit Sean.”
“She can write that well at her young age?”
Rachel chuckled. Her shoulders relaxed, and pain burst from the tension easing across them. “Her message was clear enough for me to guess this was where she was bound. When Sean gets back, will you ask him if he’s seen her? I’ll keep looking around the village.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Miss Browning, but—”
“You are wondering if Kitty Cat keeps running away because she doesn’t want to be at River’s Haven.” She sighed. “She loves living at River’s Haven, except for not being able to see your Sean and her other friend, Brendan Rafferty.”
“Could she have gone to Mr. Jennings’s farm to visit the Rafferty children?”
She shook her head. “Her message was that she was coming to see Sean. She’s been talking nonstop about the village ever since she came here a few days ago. I’ll look around and see if I can find her.” She thanked Mrs. Sawyer before rushing back out onto the street.
The glint off the river below caught Rachel’s eye. Kitty Cat had been talking about the village and the steamboat. Could she have gone there again, even though Rachel had asked her not to? “Misterhors” had been the second word on the page left on the kitchen table.
Why was she hesitating? Was she so intimidated by Mr. Colton that she did not dare to go to his steamboat again? She frowned at the very idea. The man was a rogue, but she had met rogues before. They usually were mostly bluster, and if one ignored them they got bored and went on their way to bother other people.
Gathering up her cumbersome skirts, Rachel hurried past the railroad station and down the hill toward the river. She heard a carriage behind her. As she stepped to the side of the road, she heard a shout of warning. She turned and saw a hooded buggy speeding too quickly for safety. Was it out of control? She was about to jump out of its way. Then she saw a small, redheaded form in the middle of the road where a ball was rolling to a stop.
“Kitty Cat!” she screamed in horror. As she raced back up the hill, she stepped on her hem, nearly stumbling. Fabric tore, and a flash of hot pain scored her ankle. She did not slow as she yanked the little girl out from in front of the approaching wagon. The ball flew up into the air and under the carriage. It bounced away into some high grass.
“Rachel, that hurts!”
She squatted before Kitty Cat. “I didn’t want you to be run over by that carriage.”
“Carriage?” Excitement fired Kitty Cat’s voice as she whirled to stare after the vehicle, which was spraying dirt behind it in a brown cloud.
Rachel stood and drew Kitty Cat out of the dust. “You need to be more careful when you’re in Haven. It isn’t like our Community where no vehicles are allowed near the walkways.”
Sean rushed up, his brown hair falling into his eyes and the ball in one hand. He wiped dirt from his clothes as he shouted, “Wow! That was close! Kitty Cat, have you forgotten how fast a carriage can go?” He scowled at her. “You never were so silly when we lived in New York City.”
“I forgot,” said the little girl. “I wanted to catch the ball before it rolled all the way into the river.”
“But you could have been killed,” Rachel scolded. “Sean is right. You need to be more careful.”
She hung her head. “Rachel, I am sorry.”
“Just don’t forget again.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” She smiled at Sean. “Thank you for shouting your warning! If I hadn’t heard you, I wouldn’t have gotten up the hill in time.” She shifted, taking weight off her left foot. She shook it, hoping the heated pain stabbing it would vanish before she began the walk back to River’s Haven.
“Are you all right?” asked a man from behind Rachel.
She turned. Her smile wavered when her eyes met Mr. Colton’s gray ones. “Yes, we are fine.”
“I would readily agree.” His gaze wandered along her as if he had never seen her before.
“Thank you for asking, Mr. Colton,” she said in the same cool tone.
He was dressed in the work clothes she had seen him wear the last time she visited the boat. Oil stains drew her eyes to his strong arms and muscular legs. He pushed a broad-brimmed hat back on his head and greeted the children.
“Let’s go, Kitty Cat.” Rachel took a single step, then winced.
“Are you hurt?” Mr. Colton asked.
She clenched her hands, and the little girl yelped. Releasing Kitty Cat’s fingers, she said, “I twisted my left foot when I rushed to save Kitty Cat from that carriage.”
“And tore your dress.”
“My dress?”
He looped a single finger in the torn seam at her waist. “Here.”
“What are you doing?” She tried to step back as she pushed that probing finger away, but halted when more pain swirled up her leg.
“You ripped your dress.” He gave her a rakish grin. “Just wanted to point out where.”
The little girl piped up, “Rachel doesn’t like long skirts. She says they just cause women to get hurt.”
“Excuse me?” Mr. Colton asked.
“At River’s Haven,” Kitty Cat answered before Rachel could, “ladies wear sensible clothing. The skirt Rachel wears there comes only to here.” She slashed her hand across the black skirt at knee level.
“Is that so?”
“’Tis so. That way she—”
Rachel put her hand on Kitty Cat’s shoulder. “I think that’s enough.”
Mr. Colton smiled. “Enough to give me a very good idea of what the female clothing at River’s Haven looks like. Seems to me that I should pay a visit out there one of these days.”
“I thought you were too busy with your steamboat for anything else.”
“Retract those claws.” He grinned when Sean and Kitty Cat giggled. “Lad, is there a doctor in Haven?”
“It’s nothing to bother Doc Bamburger about,” Rachel argued. If she said the Assembly of Elders would be furious if she went to an outsider doctor, Mr. Colton would start another argument. She did not feel up to trading words with him now. She glanced up at Haven, wishing there was a way she could have the doctor look at it without the Assembly of Elders knowing. Clenching her teeth to hold back her groan, she added, “Sean, will you let Mrs. Sawyer know that I’ve found Kitty Cat?”
“Sure.” The lad took two steps up the hill, then paused to ask, “Can Kitty Cat come back to help decorate th
e wagon for the Fourth of July parade?”
“Please, please, please, please,” begged the little girl, tugging on Rachel’s skirt with each word.
Rachel bit her lip as the motion sent more agony along her leg. Lifting Kitty Cat’s hand off her skirt, she said, “I can’t promise, but I’ll ask.”
Sean’s face fell, and Kitty Cat stamped her foot, but it was Mr. Colton who asked, “Why do you have to ask anyone? I thought Kitty Cat lived with you.”
“The Assembly of Elders makes those decisions in River’s Haven.”
“You can’t leave the Community without getting their say-so?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course we can leave. It’s just that the children shouldn’t be wandering about the countryside on a whim.”
“Nor should they be prisoners.”
“I assure you, Mr. Colton, no one is a prisoner at River’s Haven. I—” She could not halt this groan as another savage streak of pain surged up her left leg.
Mr. Colton frowned. “You can’t walk all the way back to River’s Haven when you can’t take a single step.”
“I’m sure it’s just twisted. I’ll rest it for a few minutes, and I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Come down to The Ohio Star and sit while you rest it.”
“The Ohio Star? Thank you, but I think not. Kitty Cat and I must be getting back to River’s Haven, so I’ll go back up the hill and sit on a bench by the train station. At least that takes me in the right direction.” She did not want to admit that she was unsure if she could walk as far as the riverboat. Looking around in dismay, she asked, “Where did that child go now?”
“To The Ohio Star.” He hooked a thumb in the direction of the river.
Rachel wanted to moan when she saw the little girl’s skirts bouncing down the hill toward the riverboat. No doubt, as soon as she had heard Mr. Colton mention the boat, she had taken off to visit it again.
“She seems determined to keep you on your toes.” He chuckled as Rachel hobbled a single step. “Or off them. Let me help.”
“Thank you, Mr. Colton, but—”
“Wyatt.”
“Pardon me?”
“My name is Wyatt.” He put his arm around her waist. “If I’m going to call you Rachel, you should call me Wyatt.”
“I didn’t realize you were back to using my given name.”
“I never stopped using it.”
Rachel was tempted to fire back another comment, but she had to concentrate on putting the least possible pressure on her left foot. If Wyatt had not helped, she doubted she could have made a trio of steps without collapsing. This was another debt she owed him … another debt she could never explain to her brother.
Five
Rachel paused when she and Wyatt reached the gangplank. It was too narrow for the two of them to walk side by side.
She said, “I can wait here if you’d be so kind as to tell Kitty Cat to come ashore.”
“I’d be glad to be so kind.”
When he put an arm beneath her knees and lifted her as if she weighed no more than a drop of river water, she gasped. “Mr. Colton!”
“Wyatt, if you would be so kind.”
She hardly knew the man, and she already found his superior smile irritating beyond endurance. She pushed her exasperation aside. Without his help, she could not get aboard the boat, and standing here on the shore and shouting for Kitty Cat would be humiliating.
“As you wish,” she said as he stepped onto the gangplank.
“I doubt you say those words very often.” He chuckled.
Rachel smiled, but weakly. In the past week, she had spoken those words far too often during conversations with her brother. Arguing with Merrill had gained her as little as being stubborn would now.
She tried to relax, for Wyatt’s arms were amazingly gentle. She leaned against him, glad that she did not have to take another step. Once she saw what the damage was to her ankle, she would figure out a way to get back to River’s Haven.
Kitty Cat came running as Wyatt crossed to the deck of the riverboat. “Why are you carrying Rachel?”
“She hurt her foot saving you, K. C.”
As the little girl began to apologize, Rachel asked, “What did you call her?”
“K. C. for Kitty Cat.” He winked at Kitty Cat, but the youngster did not lose her frightened expression. “She’s going to be all right.”
“Are you sure?” asked Kitty Cat.
“Sure as I’m standing here.”
When he lowered her toward the deck, Rachel let her knees fold and dropped onto a bench. She leaned back against the railing and closed her eyes for a moment.
“See?” Wyatt asked. “She’s going to be fine, K. C.”
“I like that name!” the little girl shouted as she spun about on her toes, dancing along the deck. “K. C., K. C., that’s me.”
“A nickname for a nickname?” asked Rachel.
“Why not?” Wyatt smiled.
“I … I …”
“Even you, proper as you try to be with that child, can’t come up with any reason why not.”
“I’m not thinking too clearly just now.” She shifted her left leg, stretching it out in front of her. “Ouch.”
“You may have done more than twist it,” he said, abruptly serious. “You should have the doctor examine it. Wait here, and I’ll find him.”
She cried, “No!”
He paused and faced her. “Are you afraid of doctors?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why won’t you have him check your ankle? If it’s a matter of money—”
“It isn’t.”
“Then what?” Before she could answer, he scowled. “It’s another of those damn rules at River’s Haven, isn’t it?”
“Watch your language in front of Kitty Cat.”
His smile returned as he patted the little girl on the head. “I’m sure she’s heard that word before.”
“Rachel says I shouldn’t say damn or—”
“Kitty Cat!” she gasped, frowning at Wyatt. “You don’t need to encourage her to misbehave. I think we should leave.”
Bowing, he motioned toward the plank. “Be my guest.”
She drew in her feet to stand. Her heel caught between two boards on the deck, and she moaned as pain flashed up her leg.
“Are you done being foolish?” he asked.
“If you wouldn’t keep—”
“Encouraging you to misbehave?”
Rachel looked away from his smile, because the concern in his eyes had not changed even when he was amused—or furious.
Wiping his hands on his shirt, he knelt in front of her. He took the hem of her skirt and began to raise it.
She turned on the bench, pulling her skirt out of his grip. Another groan bubbled from her lips as she moved her left leg, but she would not sit there and let this man act so outrageously.
Wyatt sat back on his heels. “Why the sudden modesty?”
“I’m not in the habit of allowing strangers to draw up my skirts.”
He snorted a laugh. “You don’t have to tell me that. You look as prim as a nun. However, you’re used to showing off your legs if you wear your skirts only to here.” He put a hand on her right knee.
Something blistering riveted her. Not from her ankle, but from where his fingers had settled on her skirt. A soft sound came from her lips. Not a gasp, but neither was it a moan, for this heat created a buzzing sensation along her, making her aware of every bit of her … and of his hand.
Her fingers trembled as she lifted his hand off her leg. She struggled to keep her voice from doing the same while she said, “The skirts at River’s Haven are shorter than what’s worn in Haven, but we wear pantalets beneath them. Our legs aren’t revealed for everyone to ogle.”
“That’s a shame.”
“I am not surprised you think so.”
He chuckled. “Outspoken, aren’t you?”
Wyatt’s smile faded when Rachel grimaced in reply, and h
e knew she was hurting more than she wanted him to guess. She was wasting her strength trying to hide her pain, because the lines gouged into her face revealed the truth.
He had been horrified to look up from his work on the deck to see a carriage bearing down on a woman and a young child. When he had recognized both Rachel and K. C., he had rushed up the bluff to make sure they had not been hurt. He had not expected that the local sheriff would allow anyone to drive like that in the village. Maybe Sheriff Parker was busy somewhere else.
“Rachel, the only other female on the boat is a little girl who’s now looking for Horace up on the deck over our heads, if the sound of her footsteps are any clue. Your ankle should be checked. You refuse to let the doctor in Haven do that. If you’ve got any ideas on how examining your ankle can be accomplished without me moving your skirt aside, I’d be glad to hear them.”
Her eyes, which were dimming with anguish, looked down into his. His hand rose toward her cheek, but he lowered it before he could touch her. Having sympathy for her was one thing. Getting mixed up with her was something completely different.
Since her first visit to The Ohio Star, he had had trouble staying focused on anything but the memory of her snapping eyes and guileless laugh. Horace had bellowed at him more than once to keep his mind on his work while they worked on the boiler or the broken paddlewheel. When he had dropped a hammer into the river yesterday, it had taken him half the morning to retrieve it.
All because he kept thinking about pretty Rachel Browning who treated a man so coolly that she tempted him to consider ways to melt the reserve she tried to keep in place between them. Pretty Rachel Browning who wore her skirts no lower than her knees. Images of her slender legs draped over his arm threatened to lead him into a most complicated direction. He would be right pleased to see those legs as his hands slid up them, but she would not give him the opportunity. She was the sort of woman who would want a man to settle down and stay with her. He was the sort of man who did not want to stay anywhere.
Moonlight on Water Page 5
