Tennessee Waltz

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  Releasing a breath with a measure of frustration in the sound, Wyn said, "You've got a wonderfully smooth walk, Sarah. Do they teach things like that in finishing schools, or does it come naturally to you?"

  Sarah halted in surprise. "Were you reading my mind?"

  "No," Wyn said with a chuckle, which sparked in his eyes as a twinkle. "Why? Were you thinking, too, of how easy it was to walk together?"

  "I . . . I think I hear Mairi's voice. I didn't see her with the other children, did you?"

  His fingers tightened on her arm and she felt every tiny quiver of her response. The murmur of Mairi's voice faded into the background, along with her awareness of the barn door looming beside them and the faint wheeze of a mule's "hee haw." His hold on her arm changed more into a caress than a polite gesture of manners, and Wyn raised his free arm. She stood helpless as he ran a gentle fingertip ever so slowly down her cheek, across her jawbone to the middle of her chin, and then down her neck.

  When he traced a back and forth pattern a few inches wide just beneath her dress collar, her eyes sluggishly drooped. She instinctively grabbed his waist to steady her legs.

  "Don't close your eyes," Wyn growled in a barely discernible voice. "They're beautiful. Like pools of deep brown velvet."

  She flushed at the compliment, her head dropping to avoid letting him see the misery she knew had to be filling her face. She'd started to think of him as a friend, but she couldn't tolerate teasing gibes about her looks, even from a friend. She got enough of those from other people with whom she came into contact.

  He tucked his index finger beneath her chin and brought her head back up. "What?" he asked. "Would you rather I compare them to that bright, pretty brown Granny uses to trim some of her blankets?"

  "I'd prefer you didn't tease me about them at all." Sarah forced herself back from his hold. "I know how plain I am. I've had enough mocking of my looks over the years to last me a lifetime."

  "I don't understand what you mean by mocking, unless you're jeering at me instead." Wyn shrugged his shoulders. "You're betrothed. I'm sure you had plenty of suitors before that, and evidently one man found you attractive enough to propose to. And you found him attractive enough in return to accept his proposal."

  "So what are you trying to do?" Sarah said angrily. "Make time with someone already spoken for? Or seeing if you're missing something that Stephen saw beneath all my plainness? For your information, I'm the one who chose Stephen, not the other way around. It's amazing what money will buy, even for a homely woman!"

  With a sob, she gathered her skirts and raced away, toward her tiny cabin.

  Stunned, Wyn stared after her until she disappeared through the cabin door. With her long stride, she was gone before he could take a second breath. He moved a step after her, then paused. What on earth was she talking about? But having seen her temper before, he didn't feel like taking a chance on following her right then and demanding an explanation. He'd wait until she cooled down a little bit.

  He started toward the back porch, but when he came to the steps, he stopped again. He didn't feel like being sociable to all the neighbors with his mind in a turmoil over what Sarah had said. Wandering back to the barn, he reached down and pulled a blade of new grass, then leaned against the wall beside the door. Sticking the stem in his mouth and propping one booted foot behind him against the barn wall, he turned to gaze at the little cabin once more.

  Did she really think she was plain? Lord God above, didn't the woman ever look in a mirror? Sure, she was tall, but that meant she fit into a man's arms like a proper armful. A man wasn't squeezing air half the time with a woman like Sarah in his hold.

  He hadn't been teasing her about those beautiful brown eyes, either. A man could fall into them if he didn't watch out, like a shooting star streaking across the vast night sky and disappearing, never to be seen again. It would almost be worth it to determine if the velvetiness were as soft and soothing as it looked. He'd gotten hard in an instant when those eyes touched his crotch — faster even than when he was a randy sixteen-year-old lusting after the Widow Silverton, who finally took pity on him and showed him what really happened between a man and a woman.

  Yet when Sarah got angry or excited, the gold-dust sparks in her brown eyes danced and sparkled. They reminded him of the coated wire sparklers he ordered for the younger children's enjoyment on the Fourth of July.

  Her features weren't dainty. Heck, dainty features would be awkward on her. What she had fit in good proportion — a straight nose and high cheekbones. A mouth wide enough to fill that space above her firm chin and fit just right over a man's mouth — his mouth.

  She wasn't anything like Rose, and at one point he'd thought Rose about the prettiest thing that God ever put on earth for a man's enjoyment. Pretty is as pretty does, though, he remembered his Ma saying more than once when she was talking about one of the young mountain women she'd caught him watching. Even before Rose had refused to return to Sawback Mountain with him, he'd realized their relationship had been a mistake. Rose was all surface, with none of Sarah Channing's deep caring for others besides herself.

  And he'd already decided her legs would put those fragile limbs Rose tottered around on to shame. Sarah's legs would be a fine sight for a man with the right to see them. Hadn't that blasted fiancé of hers told her how beautiful she was? If he hadn't, and from her comments Wyn was pretty sure he hadn't, why should that jackass be the one to live with her all her life?

  That brought him back to the truth of one of Sarah's other comments, however. She had been right about her already being spoken for. He'd had his hands on another man's property, whether or not it had been Sarah's decision or her Stephen's to become betrothed.

  He didn't feel a bit guilty about kissing her for some reason, and the reason became clear as soon as he admitted his lack of guilt. If Stephen was too ignorant to appreciate Sarah, he knew of one man who wasn't.

  Not that he had any intentions of getting serious with a woman like Sarah Channing, he reminded himself. She would go back to her nice, rich life as soon as she had her fling here in the mountains. Right now she fancied herself on one of her do-good missions in life, which people with plenty of money felt obligated to accomplish now and then — although it seemed Sarah had a little deeper feelings about what she was doing than some of the do-good political wives he'd met in Washington. Most of them had done charitable works to enhance their husband's careers and their own status among the other wives.

  But look at what she'd said about the orphanage where Mairi had ended up — that her attorney was overseeing the new management of the place. Sure as shooting some of her own money was being used for the maintenance and management.

  Perhaps he could repay Sarah's kindness to Mairi and the other children in that orphanage through no fault of their own by helping her overcome her erroneous thoughts about being homely. Perhaps . . .

  He heard the giggle first, then concentrated on making out the words of the conversation.

  "I thought for sure Wyn was gonna kiss her, Miz Leery." Mairi's voice, Wyn decided.

  Confirming his guess, Wyn's niece and the old mountain healer walked out of the barn. With the door shoved back at an angle and Wyn standing in the lee of it, they didn't catch sight of him.

  "Probably he would have," Leery told Mairi. "But you said Sarah didn't eat all her muffin. And she's the one who broke it off and ran away."

  "I didn't see her half of muffin on the table until after she'd taken her bath and left Miz Tuttle's house. By then, it was sorta dried up, and I didn't figure Miss Sarah would eat it if I took it to her."

  "Well, the love potion won't do any good iffen you don't get enough of it in their bellies. Although it looks to me like your Uncle Wyn got plenty of it in that flat belly of his."

  "Yeah, he ate both of the muffins I gave him. Can you make me up some more potion, Miz Leery?"

  "We'll talk about it, gal. Come on. Let's go visit with some of the folks for now."

>   Wyn stood stunned against the side of the barn. What the hell was Mairi doing, consorting with Leery and feeding him and Sarah a love potion? Hell, he'd seen those darned potions work before, and he didn't care at all for the thought of one of them rolling around right now in his own belly. And it was evidently aimed at getting him and Miss Sarah Channing together!

  It was one thing to think about making Sarah aware of her own attractiveness. It was quite another one to take a chance on being caught in the web of her attractiveness himself and spend the rest of his life mooning over her. He'd had enough trouble keeping his hands off her before today — and hadn't done a very good job at all of preventing his hands from grabbing for her every time she got within reaching distance.

  Now, with a love potion working on him, the best thing he could do was keep as far away from her as possible. She hadn't swallowed as much of the dosage as he had, and it would be easier for her to resist him. He'd just have to overcome the potion's power.

  Chapter 10

  Soon after Reverend Jackson's arrival, the people gathered around the front porch of the general store. Sarah stood back on the edge of the crowd, hoping no one noticed her red-rimmed eyes and wishing she could have stayed at her cabin. It wouldn't do, however, to not attend the memorial wake for Mairi's parents.

  Someone slipped a hand through her arm and patted her on the shoulder. "It's all right to cry even if you didn't know Cal and Selene," Mandy said, making Sarah aware her red-rimmed eyes had been noticed. She didn't correct Mandy as she went on, "Feeling's like that — a person crying — are a sign of sympathy for all the ones missing the two of them after they're gone."

  Mairi pushed through the crowd and took Sarah's free hand. She was a much quieter little girl than she'd been when she was introducing Sarah around earlier.

  "Would you come sit with me, Miss Sarah?" she asked softly. "Reverend Jackson said the family oughta sit up on the chairs on the porch. There's way too any people here for the schoolhouse he uses for a church other times, so he's gonna hold the service right here."

  She glanced up at Mandy. "And you, too, Miz Tuttle, if you don't mind. I think Uncle Dan might like to have you beside him."

  Sarah glanced at Mandy in surprise, seeing a flush steal over the older woman's face. Dan and Mandy? she wondered.

  Her hand tightening on Sarah's arm, Mandy said, "I'm sort of considered one of the family, since we live so close."

  There was no time for further conversation as Mairi tugged Sarah's hand and they made their way through the crowd. Granny Clayborne still had the place on one side of Dan, and Dan motioned for Mandy to sit in the empty chair on his other side. Mairi led Sarah to two chairs between Wyn and Pris. She took the one beside her favorite cousin, and Sarah was left with the one next to Wyn.

  Before long, Sarah's eyes teared again, and she didn't have to worry about explaining her red eyes. Reverend Jackson evidently knew Cal and Selene MacIntyre well, and before he was finished, Sarah wished she had been lucky enough to meet them. She pulled her handkerchief from her dress sleeve and wiped a tear tumbling free of her lower lashes.

  "Had they been able," Reverend Jackson was saying, "Cal and Selene MacIntyre would have returned to these mountains. They were both born here, and they had mountain air in their lungs — mountain soil in their blood. They left only to seek what they thought would be a more prosperous life for their child and found instead the path back to their ultimate home with our Lord."

  He turned to smile at Mairi. "And the Lord never judged them for their decision, made with the free will He Himself afforded them at their birth. In fact, He watched over their child, leading Mairi to safety and to a wonderful woman named Sarah Channing, who brought her home to her family."

  His eyes touched on Sarah, and she felt the warmth of his gaze throughout her entire being. Another tear trembled, then fell, and she thought how truly blessed the mountain people were to have such a wonderful preacher as Reverend Jackson.

  She heard a muffled sniff beside her. Instinctively she glanced at Mairi, prepared to offer the little girl the use of her handkerchief. But Mairi appeared to be holding up well, her small hands clasped with Pris's. Hearing the sniff again, she turned to look at Wyn in time to see him wipe his shirt cuff beneath his nose.

  "Here," she said softly, pushing the handkerchief into his hand.

  He shook his head, then shifted to reach into his back pocket. He pulled out a bright red bandanna, and despite the seriousness of the occasion, Sarah had to bite back a smile as he wiped his eyes and blew his nose with the brilliant cloth. It was a minute or so later before Sarah realized she'd slipped one hand beneath his arm and was patting the top of his forearm with her other hand in a comforting gesture.

  As soon as she became aware of what she was doing, she furtively wiggled her hand free, with no resistance from Wyn. Reverend Jackson concluded his first part of the service and opened it up to eulogies from the departed couple's family and friends. Wyn rose and helped his pa roll his chair over to the middle of the porch where Reverend Jackson had been standing, and remained behind the wheelchair while Dan spoke.

  The mountain people told stories of Cal and Selene, some heartrending and some humorous. When Reverend Jackson rose to say a final prayer, Sarah was surprised that the service was over, and that quite a long while had passed. Shadows had lengthened and the temperature was slightly cooler, but not one person had moved to leave.

  Wyn stood beside her, and Sarah realized the Reverend had asked everyone to rise to their feet. When she stood, her leg muscles stiff and cramped from sitting so long, she stumbled slightly. Wyn reached out to steady her, but when she looked up to thank him, he kept his head bowed. For an instant, his fingers tightened on her waist, then he dropped his arm and clasped his hands in front of him as Reverend Jackson began to pray.

  The final "Amen" had barely left everyone's mouth before the crowd began breaking up. Reverend Jackson walked over to Dan and shook his hand.

  "Right nice service, Reverend," Dan said. "Sure wish you'd make it 'round here on Sundays more often. Your preachin' is exactly what a man needs after a hard week's work."

  "I'll come as often as I can," the Reverend said. "But there's other places in the mountains where I'm needed too."

  "We understand." Dan turned to Sarah. "I told you the name of the lady who brought Mairi back to us, but I don't think you've actually met her, Reverend. Miss Sarah Channing, Reverend Kyle Jackson."

  Sarah held out her hand. "A wonderful service, Reverend."

  In keeping with the solemn occasion, Kyle Jackson wore a black suit jacket and white shirt, with what looked like a thin black string tie around his collar. Sarah had never seen that style of tie before today, but she'd noticed a variation of it on several of the other men's necks today.

  The minister had the whitest smile Sarah had ever seen. His full head of dark, black hair curled over his forehead, looking as silky as one of her ball gowns. Warm brown eyes were set in a rugged face, and his entire attitude made her trust him on sight. He seemed much too young to be so popular a minister in these out-of-the-way mountains, as Sarah would have imagined it took a much older man to gain these people's respect. But the mountain people had surprised her more than once since she arrived.

  "You are to be commended for bringing Mairi home," Kyle told her, still holding her hand. "I remember you from when you first entered society at your coming out ball, but I left for the seminary that same season."

  "You're from New York?" Sarah asked. "For goodness sakes, you must be Loretta Jackson's son."

  He finally released her hand. "Yes, and I've been here in the mountains since I graduated from the seminary. I was rather astounded when I heard that a young lady had traveled alone from New York with Mairi, even when I realized who it was and that you must be at least twenty-five by now."

  He shook his head slightly. "Darn it, forgive me. I've been out of polite society for so long I've forgotten it doesn't do to mention a lady's age. I g
uess it slipped out because while I was thinking of you, I realized when I left New York, I was your same age now. It's been seven years since I was back there."

  "Not much has changed," Sarah told him. "Of course, all of your sisters are married now, but your mother is as beautiful as ever."

  "My sister Carol wrote me of your father's death. You have my condolences."

  Sarah couldn't keep from thinning her lips. But her years of training in manners and hiding her emotions allowed her to catch the action, she hoped before it became too noticeable.

  "Thank you."

  "If you're not already committed," Kyle said, "I'd like to have supper with you today. The letters I get from my sisters are wonderful, but they write only infrequently. It's been a long while since I've been back home, and you can give me a more recent update. I admit to wanting to go back and see everyone again, but my duties here keep me fairly busy."

  "I'd be delighted, Reverend."

  "Then please call me Kyle," he said. "And we might even get a chance for a dance. I've heard Tater play, and he is actually quite good. The mountain people believe in doing things at a wake that the departed would have done had they been there themselves. And Cal and Selene did truly love to dance."

  He centered his attention on Mairi, and Sarah felt a prickle on the back of her neck. Swiftly turning, she saw Wyn at the general store door. He shuttered his eyes quickly, but she could have sworn the dark thunderstorm color was back. However, the lengthening shadows under the overhanging porch roof made it difficult to be certain, and he walked on through the doorway without a word.

  When Kyle Jackson moved away from Mairi, the young girl attached herself to Sarah again, apparently needing a woman's comfort after the reminders of her departed parents. Sarah gladly complied, holding hands with Mairi on one side of her and Pris on the other as they strolled around the area.

  At first, Mairi talked about her parents, but by the time they had wandered over to the schoolhouse and sat down on the steps Jute kept cleanly swept, Mairi was telling Pris about her beautiful room at Channing Place.