Where The Heart Is

by Sheridon Smythe

  "Why?” Natalie was so stunned, she couldn't think of anything else to say. Stunned and hurt. Yes, the possibility had entered her mind, but she couldn't believe it now that she heard it with her own two ears. “Why?” she repeated, descending the last three steps.

  With an effort, Jo looked her in the eye. “Well, because Mr. Montgomery's sellin’ Ivy House, and it's the only thing for me to do.” She shuffled her feet and dropped her gaze to the floor.

  "I'm going to take care of us, Jo.” With a hand that trembled, Natalie reached out and brushed flour from her pert little nose. Her throat was tight with tears. “Did you think I wouldn't?” Did you think I couldn't? That thought hurt above all.

  "Well, it's not that I didn't think you would, Natty, it just ain't your place too. I'm nearly a grown woman now, and I can make my own way.” There was a gleam of pride in her eyes—behind the lurking fear.

  Where did the children get such ideas? Natalie wondered. Jo was obviously frightened of her plans, no matter how bravely spoken, so why did she insist on doing this? Why had the boys taken it upon themselves to run away?

  Suddenly she had had enough. Something very strange was going on, and she meant to find the cause. “Go fetch Mr. Montgomery for me, will you? Ask him to borrow Marla's buggy."

  Jo's eyes widened in alarm. “What are you gonna do?"

  "I'm going to fetch Cole and Brett back home where they belong,” she announced. She crumpled the note and flung it across the hallway entrance. “Then I'm going to get to the bottom of this. While Ivy House is ours, we're going to stick together—through thick and thin."

  * * * *

  Within a short time she and Elliot were on their way to the Hacket farm several miles outside of Chattanooga. Despite the jostling of the carriage, Natalie held her back ramrod straight and her shoulders firmly away from him.

  He glanced at her from time to time, but kept silent until they'd traveled some distance in the gathering twilight. “How long have they been missing?” he finally drawled.

  She closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again. She blamed everything on the scoundrel sitting beside her, handling the reins with casual expertise. “The last I saw of them was right after lunch. About four hours, maybe."

  He nodded thoughtfully. “They've had time to get here, then, even on foot."

  "I imagine so. Brett and Cole are good runners."

  "Hmm."

  She slanted him a bitter glance, unable to contain her gathering anger. “You put them up to this, didn't you? Brett and Cole would never have thought of doing this on their own—"

  He gave a start. The look he swung her way was incredulous. “Have you forgotten that I didn't like the Hatchets? I had nothing to do with this, Natalie."

  "Hackets, not Hatchets! And you could have been pretending, hoping I'd be contrary and like them just because you appeared not to.” It was a fresh possibility, and she thought it sounded just like something he would do. Oh, he thought he was so smart—

  "So you think I'm the mastermind behind this plot, hm? My, my."

  His sarcastic tone made her stiffen. At that precise moment the wagon wheel hit a pothole in the road. She grappled for a handhold as she was pitched in his direction, expelling her breath in relief when she found one in the nick of time. While she might hate him at the moment, she didn't want to challenge her endurance. To her disgust, every night her dreams were filled with Elliot, and every morning she awakened aching and miserable.

  Just as she suspected, it was impossible to forget what they'd shared together in the cave. And sometimes ... sometimes she didn't want to forget. Those were the times she hated herself the most. He'd waltzed into town with his honeyed words and empty gifts with nothing more on his mind than closing Ivy House—and having fun in the meantime.

  Having fun with her. Why else would he insist on selling Ivy House after what they had shared? Unlike poor, disillusioned Marla, Natalie didn't believe his sad story about debts and debtors. Or maybe she didn't want to. Maybe it was easier to convince herself she didn't love him if she believed the worst.

  A flash of heat swept up her neck. She resolutely turned her head away from his probing gaze, wishing she could forget how willingly she had turned in his arms, how eagerly she had accepted his kisses, and how joyfully she had taken him into her body. A foolish romantic ... thinking he made love to her because he loved her. A foolish, foolish woman.

  She shivered and drew her shawl together against the cool evening breeze, pushing those punishing thoughts from her mind. It was useless to dwell on what she should have done, and too late to change the past. Right now she would think of nothing more than getting her family back together—even if they didn't have long before Elliot shut Ivy House down.

  At least they would have until Christmas, if his word could be believed at all. She thrust her chin up and narrowed her eyes on the road ahead. She was going to make it the best Christmas the orphans of Ivy House had ever seen, a memory they would cherish the rest of their lives...

  "We're here."

  Lost in her dismal thoughts, she jolted back to earth at the sound of Elliot's low-throated announcement. The shiver that danced over her wasn't from the cold this time. “Oh.” Bracing herself, she allowed him to help her from the carriage. And knowing she shouldn't let her guard down, but unable to hide her uncertainty, she fixed her diamond bright gaze on him and blurted out, “What if they don't want to come home?"

  His eyes softened at her terrified look. “If that's how they feel, we'll deal with it."

  With those encouraging words, she suddenly felt stronger, more confident. She squared her shoulders and took his hand, declaring a truce for the time being. For the first time in weeks she sensed an ally. Ironic that it had to be Elliot Montgomery.

  "I'm ready when you are,” she said.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When Mrs. Hacket opened the door, Natalie quickly peered around her while Elliot explained their presence. She spotted Brett seated at a rough-hewn table that dominated the spacious room, eating from a plate piled high with sliced ham, yams, and greens. The fragrance of baking bread permeated the air, along with the more subtle smells of lye soap and lemon.

  Of Cole there was no sign. Recalling Elliot's suspicions about the couple, she panicked, forgetting how she'd laughed. She clutched at his sleeve as she whispered, “Elliot! I don't see Cole."

  He glanced down at her, then back to Mrs. Hacket. “If we could just talk to the boys, make sure they're all right?"

  Mrs. Hacket hesitated. “They came of their own free will,” she stated. “The boys want to stay with us."

  "We're aware of that, Mrs. Hatch—Hacket. But Ms. Polk and I would sleep better tonight if we spoke with them."

  "All right. Mr. Hacket will be back shortly; he's calling the cows in.” She stepped aside and waved her hand. “Come in. I've got supper on the table if you're hungry. That Cole don't eat much, but Brett, he's got a hollow leg, I believe."

  Her smile was full of pride, Natalie noted with a pang of shameful jealousy. Why, the woman couldn't have known the boys over an hour, yet she showed them off as if they were her own. A glance at Elliot told her he'd noticed. He not only looked surprised, but a bit chagrined as well.

  Brett caught sight of them as they stepped over the threshold. He dropped his fork and leaped to his feet, grinning. “Natty! Mr. Montgomery, what are y'all doing here?” Then, as if he suddenly remembered the circumstances, his expression fell. “Me and Cole, we—that is, we thought we'd come on out and visit with the Hackets and see if—” He shot a quick glance at Mrs. Hacket. “Well, we thought—"

  "It's all right, Brett,” Natalie said, realizing she meant it. “But where's Cole?"

  "I'm right here, Natty,” came a muffled reply.

  She gave a start of surprise and looked in the direction of the voice just as Cole backed out of the fire place against the left wall. He was covered in black soot from head to toe.
Trying to brush at his clothes only made things worse. Finally, he gave up, his sheepish grin a shocking white in the black of his face. “I noticed their chimney wasn't drawing well, so I put out the fire and took a look. Sure enough, it needed cleaning. So I cleaned it."

  Mrs. Hacket clucked over his ruined clothes, giving his ear a friendly pinch. She shooed him outside to undress and turned back to them, her tone unmistakably hopeful. “They've been so helpful since they've been here. Brett fixed that wobbly table leg, and Cole, well, you see what Cole's been doing. My Andrew's already planning on building an extra room onto the cabin for them. We hope you'll let them stay,” she added, bustling to the cook stove. “Would you like some coffee or tea?"

  Natalie looked at Elliot and saw the same battle in his expression that she suspected was in her own. The boys appeared to be happy here, and the Hackets seemed to not only need them, but to want them. But ... it was hard letting go. She slipped her hand in his and gave it a small squeeze. At his slight nod, she took a deep breath for courage.

  "All right, they can stay—"

  "Yippee! Did you hear that Cole?” Brett shouted through the door. “She said we could stay!"

  "—on one condition,” she concluded.

  All eyes turned to her. She cleared her throat and looked into Mrs. Hacket's anxious eyes. “If they change their minds, you'll let me know? You won't force them to stay?"

  The good woman was already shaking her head. “No, we won't force them to stay, but we hope they will."

  For the first time since entering the cabin, Elliot spoke. “I'll bring the money tomorrow."

  Again, Mrs. Hacket shook her head, this time emphatically. “No, sir. I don't mean to be rude, but we don't want the money. We do pretty well for ourselves, and Andrew doesn't think it's right to take money for children."

  Natalie heard the hint of disapproval in the woman's voice. She totally agreed with her. Tugging at Elliot's hand, she said, “We'd better be getting back. Jo will worry."

  "We'll come to visit,” Brett promised around a mouthful of food.

  "Don't talk with your mouth full,” Natalie and Mrs. Hacket said simultaneously.

  Brett grinned. “See, Natty? She's just like you."

  "Yes, she is, isn't she?” Natalie managed a smile when all she really wanted to do was cry. She didn't understand it. Why should she be sad when it was obvious the boys were happy? Why did she feel like sobbing, while they were smiling? Was she being selfish? She'd never thought of herself as selfish before, but she couldn't justify her feelings.

  Once outside, they said their goodbyes to Cole, who stood shivering in his long johns while Mrs. Hacket found him something else to wear. Natalie promised to send the rest of their meager things over the next day. Cole looked happier than she had seen him in a long time, she noted. Happy and ... hopeful.

  She managed to hold back the tears until they could no longer see the cabin. Silently, Elliot guided the horses to the side of the road and pulled the brake.

  She turned away. She'd hoped to hide her misery, but apparently he was more observant that she thought.

  "Come here, you,” he said softly, pulling her into his arms.

  She went. She told herself it was only because she needed comforting, but her heart didn't believe the lie. Snuggling into his broad, strong shoulder, she wept.

  He patted her back and soothed her with words. “They will be all right, Natalie. Didn't they look happy to be there?"

  She sobbed harder.

  "You're going to miss them,” he guessed accurately.

  She nodded her head, reluctant to look at him. She felt foolish for crying when she should be overjoyed. Foolish and selfish.

  "And they'll miss you, too. But they deserve a future, a new family, don't they, Natalie?” he reasoned. “Both Brett and Cole are fine young boys, soon to be fine young men. Chances are, the Hackets will adopt them, and they will inherit the farm."

  Yes, she thought, taking a deep, shuddering breath. They have a future now. And she was happy for them, but ... she was going to miss them. When her sobs subsided, she drew back and looked at him, intending to thank him for his kindness and firmly remove herself from the danger of his arms. The words died in her throat at the look of utter tenderness on his face. And then his expression became blurred as he lowered his head and kissed her. His lips roamed hers, gently seeking a response.

  She answered his request without thought, pressing herself against him, her body joyously remembering every hard angle, every firm muscle and exactly what those hands could do to her. Her lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue collided with hers, fused and retreated in a teasing game of love. Passion flared; heat burst inside of her, rocketed through her system and sent her senses spinning out of control.

  In a matter of moments, he made her forget her grievances against him and think only of what was happening now, in his arms. As a woman, she loved him fiercely and without judgment, but Natalie Polk couldn't love him without sacrificing what she believed in.

  It was her last thought that gave her the strength to pull away. She didn't want to, and the small whimper that escaped her throat proved it. But she was determined to win the battle between her heart and her ethics. It was the only way she could live with herself. It was the only way she could like herself.

  "I—we shouldn't have done that."

  Elliot's eyes were soft with passion. “I don't agree,” he said, tracing her swollen lips with his finger. “You haven't forgotten what we shared inside the cave any more than I have."

  She pursed her lips and scooted away, putting distance between them on the hard bench seat. “It shouldn't have happened then,” she repeated firmly, “And it will not happen again."

  He slapped the reins and got the horses moving, his expression smooth and unreadable. “Would it make a difference if I told you that I wasn't going to sell Ivy House?"

  "No.” And it wouldn't, she thought, because she'd still be responsible for the children, and Elliot didn't appear to want to share that responsibility. “We were—we were carried away by the possibility of dying, and—” His mocking laugh startled her into silence.

  "You really think that's the only reason we made love, Natalie?"

  Her face warmed, but she doggedly stuck to her excuse. “Yes, I really think it was. What else could it be? We have nothing in common. In fact, we have more reasons not to like each other—"

  "I can't think of a single reason not to like you,” he said softly, throwing her a glance hot enough to set her dress on fire. “And if you weren't being so bull-headed, you'd realize that you really don't have any reason not to like me."

  "I do so."

  "Name one reason."

  Natalie huffed and scrambled around for a reply. It was disconcerting to have to think. Didn't she have dozen of reasons, and didn't she repeat them to herself several times a day? “Well, you're arrogant,” she finally sputtered.

  He laughed. “I might be. Or it might be that you're having trouble remembering because there aren't any reasons."

  "Not a chance!” she hissed, then forced herself to calm down. He would gain enjoyment by riling her. “You're a scoundrel—a perfect reason for any intelligent woman not to like you.” There, let him swallow that one.

  "Am I? What is your definition of a scoundrel?” When she didn't answer, he continued with a soft, dangerous edge to his voice, “Does a scoundrel seduce innocent young women?"

  "Yes."

  "And did I? Seduce you? Think carefully before you answer,” he warned.

  She did think carefully, and hated him immensely. “No, you didn't seduce me,” she admitted.

  "And?” he prompted.

  If she were a man, she thought furiously, she'd bash him in the nose. Through gritted teeth, she said, “And our ... coupling was a mutual agreement."

  "Coupling?” He chuckled. “I like to think that we made love, Natalie."

  She gripped her fingers together and imagined his throat
between her hands. She ignored the delicious shiver his tone and words evoked. “Think what you like. I try not to think about it at all."

  "Hmm."

  To her relief, they arrived on the outskirts of town. “Just drop me off at Marla's so that I can let her know the boys are okay."

  "I'm going there myself,” he countered.

  "Then I'll walk to Ivy House from here. You can tell her what happened.” As she scrambled down from the carriage with unladylike haste, her ears burned from the sound of his amused chuckle. Awful man, she seethed, marching down the street in the direction of home.

  It was a downright shame she loved him.

  * * * *

  Jo stood before the mirror in Natalie's room. With hands that trembled, she smoothed her dress and tugged at the neckline, then tucked her short hair behind her ears. She was going into town to apply for that job, and maybe talk to Clyde about renting a room at the boarding house. If she happened to run into Jeb ... well, she'd consider it fate, just like Elliot and Natalie according to Marla.

  Brett and Cole had been gone a week. It was past time she did her own part in bringing Natalie and Elliot together by going her own way and showing Natalie that she wasn't needed. Oh, she was needed—the thought of supporting herself terrified Jo, as did the thought of wearing the dress—but she wasn't going to let that stop her. Natalie deserved to be happy and as long as she felt responsible for the orphans of Ivy House, then her stubborn nature wouldn't let her care for Elliot.

  Jo twirled around, watching the folds of the faded dress she'd borrowed from Natalie settle around her bare feet. It was the very first time she'd attempted to wear a dress, and now that she found the courage to put one on, she couldn't bring herself to leave the room.

  Old, ugly memories surfaced. Jo backed up until she felt the edge of the bed hit her weak knees. She sat down abruptly, wishing she could block the memories, but knowing she couldn't.

  They were always there, hovering like a threat.

  Her mother's hesitant, frightened voice filled her head like thunder. "Don't let them know you're a girl, Jo. If they think you're a boy, they'll leave you alone. Me, I gotta do whatever it takes to put food in our bellies."