by Karen Kirst
Duncan hardened his heart. This was her fault. She’d disregarded his warning, and her horse had gotten injured because of it.
The storm’s fury intensified. The sky lit up with successive lightning streaks. Tethered to the distant tree, Jet pranced to the side and tossed his head.
“Let’s get these horses out of the elements.”
A shudder racked her. Moisture clung to her exposed shoulders and arms. Taking hold of the reins and speaking in soothing tones, she led Rain up the ridge.
* * *
Cold leached into her from the rock against which she was wedged. Her head resting on her bent knees, face hidden in the dirty layers of her skirt, she was mired in shame. Beneath the rocky outcrop he’d discovered, Duncan stood apart from her, preferring the horses’ company to hers. She didn’t blame him.
The thunder and lightning had grown distant, but the rain’s relentless pursuit remained constant. It pounded the earth, splattering mud in all directions. At least here, in this cramped space, they’d have the chance to dry out before heading home.
She couldn’t stop shaking. The scene replayed in her mind yet again, the lightning striking within feet of them, the sensation of falling through the air and slamming into the ground, expecting to be crushed at any moment beneath her horse. She offered up a prayer of thanksgiving that Rain hadn’t suffered a life-threatening injury. If she’d broken a leg or dislocated a shoulder, Caroline would’ve been returning home without her.
There was still a possibility of infection. She’d never forgive herself if that happened. And neither would Duncan. Caught up in her problems, she’d ignored his advice and put them all at risk.
The weight of her burdens threatened to suffocate her. Her father’s indifference, her mother’s disappointment, Theo’s scorn and Duncan’s contempt congealed into a single, sharp accusation. Caroline couldn’t please any of them. The need to be far from Gatlinburg was a living, breathing thing.
Registering movement, she kept her head down until Duncan sank to the ground and nudged her.
“Here. Put this on.”
Threading the damp strands out of her eyes, she focused on the bundle of material. Darkness had fallen. His features were wreathed in shadows, his eyes gleaming and the crimson-red undershirt snug against his upper body.
“It’s no’ completely dry,” he said with a hint of impatience. “But at least you’ll be covered.”
She slipped her arms into the too-long sleeves of his shirt and overlapped the side panels over her midriff. A cedar scent clung to the fabric. “Thank you.”
He shifted his legs and, resting his forearms on his bent knees, linked his hands. The man took up a lot of space. He was big and close, his upper arm butted against her shoulder, and Caroline was acutely aware of their seclusion. His body generated blessed heat that she yearned to share in. She glanced over, inexplicably fascinated by the patterns of faint veins on the backs of his hands, the thickness of his wrists and the fine spattering of freckles on his corded forearms. Regardless of the enmity that existed between them, Caroline accepted that the rugged Scotsman affected her on a level she hadn’t before experienced. She would’ve liked to trace those freckles, test the texture of the fine auburn hairs and curl her hand into his, drawing strength from him when her own seemed to have failed her.
“As soon as the rain stops, I’ll search for kindling that isn’t completely waterlogged and try and start a fire. ’Twill be a long night.”
Disquiet muddled her thoughts. The fact that spending time alone with Duncan didn’t bother her set off alarm bells. Admit it. He fascinates you.
“We can’t stay here.”
He swiveled his head her direction. “There’s no moon, and we dinnae have lanterns. I’m no’ about to risk further harm to the horses or ourselves to satisfy your whims.”
Hurt lanced through her. “My parents will be searching for me.”
“Let them. Unlike us, they’ll be prepared to travel by night.”
Caroline stared straight ahead, trying to picture her parents in a panic. She couldn’t quite manage it. Would they even try and locate her? Or would their guests’ comfort trump hers?
She twisted her hands into a tight ball. “Rain’s going to be okay, right?”
“As long as we’re diligent in her care, I’d say she has a good prognosis.” His voice was brusque, his manner aloof.
Caroline’s mind explored the nine years of friendship she’d shared with Rain. Her heart squeezed with regret.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to say in a strangled voice. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“Feeling sorry won’t change anything. ’Tis a hard lesson you need to learn, Caroline Turner. The world doesn’t spin on your orders. Cease thinking of yourself first, and mayhap another accident like this can be avoided.”
Chapter Five
Something coarse swatted his face. Duncan registered hard, mineral-rich earth beneath his cheek and, blinking open gritty eyes, frowned at the nearness of a horse’s hoof. Levering himself to a sitting position, he noted the purple and pink fingers stretching across the dawn sky. The spot where Caroline had been was empty. Jet and Rain stood there, poor excuses for chaperones. He hadn’t meant to drift to sleep, had only closed his eyes for a moment, thinking to rest until the storm abated.
Shifting, his stiff neck protesting movement, he spotted her in the distance. When she’d left the cover of their outcrop, he hadn’t a clue. She was seated on a dead tree with her back to him, her shoulders hunched forward, her head bowed. Her white-blond hair spilled halfway down her back, a beacon in the dim light.
Duncan stood and stretched the kinks from his body, silently praying for the Lord to grant him patience. A bit of compassion wouldn’t hurt, either. Not that long ago, he’d shared Caroline Turner’s outlook, a fact that shamed him and was probably the reason she burrowed beneath his skin like an irritating splinter.
Inhaling a cleansing breath of rain-freshened forest, he approached, navigating the muddy ground with care.
“Good mornin’.”
Caroline’s head whipped up. Her eyes told the story of her misery. She was in a bedraggled state. Below where his heather-gray shirt swallowed her top half, her seafoam green skirts were wrinkled, soiled and torn in places. Her hair was uncombed and limp. And yet, she was lovelier in this moment than he’d ever seen her.
Unsettled by the thought, Duncan spoke more gruffly than he’d intended. “You should’ve woken me.”
Her wretchedness intensified. “My eagerness to get home has waned since last evening.” She picked at the dirt beneath her nails. “I’m not looking forward to explaining all this to my parents.”
A frisson of unease slithered along his spine. As a newcomer, he didn’t have a solid reputation built up to support his word. Caroline was his employer’s only child. And she’d already complained about him to Albert. Kneading the knots in his neck, he tried not to think about the possible ramifications of the night they’d passed in isolation. The two most obvious scenarios involved irate men with guns running him out of town or, worse, a preacher ready to perform a wedding ceremony. He’d take the men with guns any day.
“No use delaying the inevitable.”
With a slow nod, she took her time getting up.
Duncan moved closer. “You said you weren’t hurt.”
Her features were drawn. “I’m bruised. Nothing’s broken.”
Worry lodged in his chest, taking him by surprise. “The ride back willnae be comfortable, I’m afraid.”
“I know.”
At least she wasn’t a whiner. Maureen would’ve been assaulting his ears with complaints he could do nothing about.
The journey wasn’t easy for either of them. They’d agreed to ride together in order make it more bearable for Rain. The rigi
d way Caroline held herself testified to her discomfort, as did her frequent, sudden inhales as Jet navigated the uneven terrain. As for Duncan, his concentration was all but shattered. Riding with an alluring female in his arms wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence.
Her hair tickled his nose, causing him to sneeze. His chin and her skull had connected so many times he’d ceased murmuring apologies. The worst was whenever the terrain sloped unexpectedly, and her bare, smooth hands latched on to his, holding on for dear life. By the time his cabin came into view, Duncan was ready to spring from the saddle.
She stirred from her quiet contemplation. “Maybe we should part ways here.”
“We’ll endure the inquisition together.”
“It will look better if I arrive alone.”
“My mother raised me to be a gentleman, Miss Turner. Besides, your father will have questions for me.”
He hoped Albert Turner would be satisfied with his answers.
* * *
Riding into the stable yard, Caroline forgot the curious sensations stirred by the Scotsman’s nearness. The stirrings of hunger pangs faded. Her hope that their arrival would go unnoticed withered. Horses and men milled about, local farmers who should be tending chores but were no doubt here at the behest of her father. Almost as one, they turned to watch Jet’s ambling approach and Rain following behind, their initial expressions of surprise changing to speculation.
Duncan’s arm circled her waist, balancing her against his chest, and she felt his muscles go taut. His beard snagged her hair again, and a long exhale feathered across her ear. Too late, she remembered that she still wore his shirt, leaving him with nothing but his undershirt. Her skin pricked under the weight of their suspicions.
She recognized the commanding figure on the porch steps as the town’s sheriff, Shane Timmons. He was conversing with her father and Isaiah Marsh, Theo’s father. The trio noticed the hush encompassing the crowd at the same time. Her father’s features pinched into prune-like proportions. A feminine exclamation drew Caroline’s attention to the shadowed seating area. Her mother moved as if weights were attached to her legs.
As Duncan halted their progress and silently slid to the ground, Caroline braced herself for an ugly scene. He reached for her, his hooded gaze wary, his demeanor somber. He’d lost the leather strip he used to hold back his hair. The auburn waves skimmed his bearded jaw, as shiny as a new copper penny.
She registered the sureness of his hands around her waist and took an odd comfort from his nearness. Her boots met the ground, and her knees threatened to buckle. She gasped at the stabbing pain in her right side and the soreness up and down her body.
He didn’t immediately release her. “You okay?”
Biting hard on her lower lip, she nodded.
When he put a wide gap between them, resignation firming his mouth, she felt ridiculously bereft.
Her father met them in the yard, his harsh visual assessment of their state of dress making her feel like an errant child. The sheriff joined them, while Louise remained on the landing, using the banister to support her weight. That she wasn’t launching into an earsplitting tirade gave Caroline pause.
“You owe me an explanation, Mr. McKenna.”
Caroline stepped in front of Duncan. “It’s my fault, Father. I—”
“Hush, Caroline.” Albert’s gray eyes were cool. “If I’d required your input, I would’ve asked for it.”
She flinched. Some of the men in the group shifted their stances, elbowing each other and whispering. Humiliation made her throat close up.
A gentle, work-roughened hand encircled her upper arm and eased her back a few steps. Duncan. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.
“The lass and I are guilty of nothing more than poor judgment. We took the horses out for a ride last evening and got caught in the thunderstorm. Her mount suffered an injury. It was my decision to take shelter and wait for morning light to return home. You have my word of honor that your daughter’s virtue remains unblemished.”
Caroline wished disappearing was an option. Her gaze on the flower beds, she berated herself once more for not listening to Duncan. First her horse had been injured, and now they were being made a spectacle of. Gossip this juicy wouldn’t die down for months. What else would become of one bad decision?
“That may be.” The hint of disbelief in her father’s voice shocked her. “However, you can agree how this looks. I won’t have my daughter’s reputation forever tainted because of your actions.”
Was Duncan about to lose his job? In any other circumstance, she’d be relieved to be rid of him. But he clearly needed the income. Who knew? Maybe his family members were destitute, and he sent money home to support them.
She forced her lips to move. “It wasn’t his decision to go. Duncan tried to persuade me to wait. He went along for the sole purpose of keeping the horses safe.”
Albert’s brows lifted. “I would hope he was interested in keeping my daughter safe, as well.”
“Of course Miss Turner’s well-being is a priority.” Duncan’s voice rang with sincerity. “That was one reason I didnae risk traveling through the night. She got bucked off her horse once. Wasnae wise to continue.”
She recalled his very real concern that morning. Despite his annoyance, he’d been gentle as he’d helped her onto Jet’s broad back.
Sheriff Shane Timmons spoke up. “Are you all right, Caroline?”
The compassion in his azure gaze made her eyes smart. Her own father hadn’t bothered to ask. Unable to speak past the knot in her throat, she nodded.
“She needs to be examined by a doctor,” Duncan asserted.
Albert summoned Anthony and sent him to fetch Doc Owens. “Oh, and Anthony? Bring Reverend Monroe, as well. Tell him it’s a matter of great urgency.”
The gap in his teeth appeared. “Yes, sir.”
The hush surrounding them was deafening. His intentions sunk in, and Caroline weaved on her feet. Surely he wouldn’t force them to marry?
“If you are indeed a man of honor, Mr. McKenna, you will put to rest the speculation and give my daughter your name.”
Caroline gaped at the man beside her. “You aren’t going to agree to this, are you? I’m not about to marry a stable manager!”
Snickers spilled through the spectators. Duncan winced, just like he’d done on Independence Day when she’d declined his invitation to dance. Caroline wished the words unsaid.
Heaving in a breath that made his wide chest expand, he curled his hands into fists. “This may come as a shock to you, lady, but I’m no’ keen on marrying a self-absorbed, shallow socialite with nothing in her head but fashion and parties. Looks like that’s what I’m getting, though. You can thank your stubbornness for this debacle.”
His words stung. Shallow. Wasn’t that similar to what Theo had said? That people thought she was an empty shell with nothing of substance inside?
Twisting away, a vein ticking at his temple, he addressed her father. “I’ll wed her.”
The edges of her vision grew fuzzy. This couldn’t be happening.
She wanted to stomp her feet and scream at the top of her lungs and make them all go away.
If she married Duncan McKenna, she wouldn’t be able to leave Gatlinburg, after all. She’d be stuck here in her old, miserable life, only now she’d be known as the girl whose husband had been guilted into marrying her.
Chapter Six
“Why, God?” he groaned. “Of all the women in the world, why her?”
He couldn’t fathom how the Father who claimed to love him and want good things for him would shackle him to a woman like Caroline Turner. A woman who, on the inside where it counted, could be Maureen Craig’s twin. He’d left Boston to escape just these sorts of people, and now he was rejoining their ranks.
&n
bsp; The bread and jam he’d choked down earlier soured on his stomach.
In a few hours’ time, he’d enter into a marriage he didn’t want.
His arms full of supplies, he was about to enter Rain’s stall when the man Albert had introduced as Shane Timmons strode into the stable. The light shining through the high windows glanced off the pistol at his hip.
“How can I help you, Sheriff?”
His probing gaze cataloged the scene. “Looks like you’re the one who could use a hand.” He came close and, spying Rain’s flank wound, whistled low. “That’s a doozy.”
“Aye, it is.” Going in, he arranged the honey jar and bandages in the corner and tried not to relive those horrible moments when he’d watched Caroline slide from the saddle and plunge to the ground. Running his hand along Rain’s side, he said, “It could’ve been worse.” For both the animal and her owner.
Shane removed his hat and, pushing his light brown hair out of his eyes, gestured to the horse. “How about I apply honey to the bandage while you clean the wound?”
Duncan didn’t exactly feel like company, but he wasn’t about to refuse the sheriff. Now that Gatlinburg was to be his permanent home, making allies would prove important.
“I’d appreciate it.”
While he filled a container with clean water, Shane applied a generous amount of honey to the square bandage that would cover the wound. Rain was a docile patient. In a matter of minutes, they had her patched up, the bandage protecting the gash from flies and dirt getting in.
Shane surveyed their work. “Should heal nicely. Caroline will be relieved.”
Duncan twisted the lid to the honey jar. He didn’t ask how well the sheriff knew her. It didn’t matter.
“I realize you haven’t had time to get to know many people yet,” he continued. “I want you to know I’m here if you need anything.”
“How about a way to turn back the clock?” he muttered, carrying the remaining bandages and honey jar to the tack room.
Shane closed the stall door and followed him. “You don’t have ties here. You could refuse to marry her. Leave town.”
