He frowned slightly and motioned for her to look down again. “You have to maintain the same pose.”
She felt heat stealing into her cheeks as she lowered her gaze. Did he like what he saw? Or did he think her face was too thin and her nose too long? What about her prominent cheekbones and high forehead? She stifled a groan. Why had she agreed to let him draw her portrait again?
Of course she knew the answer to that question—he had insisted his last drawing didn’t do her justice and had asked permission to draw another. How could she say no to him?
His kindness and generosity toward her family had made a deep impression on her. He’d insisted on giving Father most of the money he’d received from his editor, saying he owed his life to them. It would take care of their needs for the next few months and provide wonderful feasts for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
She heard the sound of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels on the front drive and looked up. Father laid aside the newspaper and rose from his chair.
Susan rushed to window and pushed the curtain aside. “Oh, they’re here!” She sent them a jubilant smile, then hurried to open the front door. Father followed her.
Rachel rose and brushed her hand down her skirt. It had been more than a year since she’d seen Uncle Edward and Aunt Julia. Though it was only sixty miles to Bowling Green, the war made travel too dangerous for frequent trips.
James set his drawing book on the table and walked with her to the front portico. She glanced at his handsome profile as he watched the carriage approach. She treasured these days with him. His associate from Harper’s was due to arrive in Nashville anytime. Every day brought his departure closer.
He hadn’t said anything about his feelings for her, and he’d made no promise to write or return for a visit. She pushed those painful thoughts aside, but she couldn’t keep them from dampening her spirits.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and the side door flew open. Uncle Edward stepped down, then turned to help his wife. Finally, a tall young man with dark, wavy hair and a full mustache stepped from the carriage.
Father greeted his brother with a warm handshake. “Edward, it’s so good to see you.”
Father took Julia’s hand and kissed her cheek. “Welcome, Julia.”
“Thank you, Josiah.” Julia turned to the young man beside her. “This is my cousin Daniel Kincaid. Daniel, this is Dr. Josiah Thornton and his family.”
“I’m happy to meet you, sir.” Daniel shook Father’s hand. He looked past Father’s shoulder and smiled at Rachel.
Father turned to her. “This is my elder daughter, Rachel.”
Rachel held out her hand to Daniel. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
His dark eyes lit up. “The pleasure is all mine.” He bowed, lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed it.
Rachel swallowed. Few men had greeted her that way.
Daniel looked up, still holding her hand. “Cousin Julia told me so much about you. I’ve been looking forward to our meeting.”
James frowned and clasped his hands behind his back as he watched them.
Father introduced Susan. She smiled and held out her hand. Daniel repeated the kissing gesture, but he didn’t linger over her hand as he had with Rachel.
“And this is our friend James Galloway,” Father continued. “He is an artist covering the war for Harper’s Weekly newspaper.”
James’s gaze held a challenge as he shook Daniel’s hand.
“Interesting line of work,” Daniel said. “Perhaps you’ll share some stories from the battlefront.”
James gave him a brief nod, then turned and shook hands with Edward and Julia.
“How long have you been with Harper’s?” Daniel asked as he crossed the portico, walking between her and James.
“Four years.”
Daniel studied him. “Where are you from?”
“England.” James’s tone was clipped and formal.
“I thought so. I’m from Kentucky, myself,” Daniel added with a proud nod. “Born and raised in Louisville. I studied law at the university there. I’ve recently moved to Bowling Green to begin my law practice.”
“So you never enlisted in the Union Army?” James raised one brow.
“Oh, no.” Daniel chuckled. “Kentucky is neutral. I wouldn’t think of taking sides in this dreadful war.”
James glanced at Rachel, his disapproval of Daniel obvious.
Daniel turned to Rachel. “Cousin Julia tells me you’re a fine horsewoman. Perhaps we may go for a ride together soon. Nothing like a jaunt in the crisp fall air to enliven the senses.”
James grimaced and looked away.
“Why, yes, riding would be lovely.” She forced a smile, hoping Daniel wouldn’t notice James’s response.
“I love to ride too,” Susan added. “We had more than a dozen horses before the war. But Father gave all but three of them to the Union Army.”
Rachel sent Susan a warning glance. Would she ever learn to think before she spoke? There was no need to announce their reduced circumstances the minute their guests walked in the door.
Father ushered them into the parlor. “I’m so glad you’ve arrived safely. I was concerned with all the rumors of troop movements that you’d cancel your trip or run into trouble.”
Edward chuckled. “We didn’t have any trouble at all. Union soldiers stopped us as we came through Nashville and asked where we were going. After I told them, they waved us through.”
Father turned to Rachel. “Would you tell Esther our guests have arrived and we’d like some refreshments?”
“Of course, excuse me.” Rachel headed to the kitchen, but she didn’t find Esther there. Looking out back, she spotted her hanging laundry on the line. As she pushed open the back door, their eleven-year-old neighbor, Aaron Tillman, ran across the pasture toward the house. He ducked under the fence rail and dashed up to her.
“The rebels are at our place, looking for horses.” He pointed over his shoulder, panting for breath. “My father sent me to warn you. He says they’re coming this way.”
Rachel grasped his shoulder. “You’re sure?”
The boy nodded. “They took our horse, Clover, even though she’s old and swaybacked.”
Rachel scanned the road leading to Tillman’s. She didn’t see any rebel soldiers yet, but no doubt they were on their way. “Thank you, Aaron. You hurry home and be careful.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Aaron held on to his hat as he ran back across the pasture.
Esther hustled over, toting the empty laundry basket. “What’s got into that young’un?”
A plan formed in Rachel’s mind as she repeated Aaron’s message.
Esther gasped. “Lord, help us. The rebels are coming!”
“Go inside and tell Father I’ve taken the horses to the chestnut grove by the lower spring.”
Esther grabbed her arm. “This ain’t no game of hide-an’-go-seek. Those rebels will do somethin’ awful to you if they find out you hidin’ horses from them.”
“Then I won’t let them find me.” She pulled away. “They can’t have our last three horses.” Determination pulsed through her as she ran to the stable and pushed open the door. The smell of sweet hay and warm horseflesh greeted her. She grabbed the lead rope from the first stall and attached it to Ranger’s halter. He whinnied and nuzzled her shoulder.
“It’s all right. We’re just going for a little walk. Everything will be fine.” She wasn’t sure if her whispered words were more for her sake or the horse’s.
Hoofbeats sounded in the distance. She crept to the stable door. Peeking out the crack, she spotted four Confederate soldiers riding toward the house with two horses tied behind. One was old swayback Clover.
Rachel stifled a shiver and hurried to the second stall. With trembling hands, she grabbed Lady’s lead and tried to clip it to the halter. “Lord, help me get this on.”
What about her uncle’s two horses and his carriage? Their driver must have taken them to the other barn,
because they weren’t in the stable. She didn’t have time to worry about them now.
The stable door squeaked open. Rachel froze. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would jump out of her chest. Footsteps crossed the stable toward her. She closed her eyes and prayed to be invisible.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Frustration edged James’s voice.
She whirled around. “You nearly scared me to death!”
“You can’t take three horses out of here by yourself.”
“Then perhaps you should help me.” She pushed past him and moved into Moonbeam’s stall.
“There’s no time. The rebels are already here.”
“These horses are the only way my father can get around to see his patients, and they’re our only hope of rebuilding our stock when the war is over.”
He studied her for a moment. “All right, but I hope you know they’ll cook us and the horses for dinner if they catch us.”
A strangled laugh rose in her throat. “I can’t believe you’re making a joke at a time like this.”
“I’ve found humor is helpful in desperate moments.” He grinned and held out his hand for Moonbeam’s lead rope. “I suggest we go out the back way.”
“Good idea.” She grabbed Lady’s lead in one hand and Ranger’s in the other, then followed James out the door. Gratefulness rose in her heart. If she were going to outrun the rebels, there was no one else she would rather run with than James Galloway.
****
James held a low-hanging branch aside while Rachel led Lady under the cover of the large tree. A few seconds later, she returned for Ranger. James followed her in, leading Moonbeam. He paused and looked up at the leafy canopy. Crimson and gold leaves hung around them in a near-perfect circle almost touching the ground.
“This is a great spot.” He tied Moonbeam to a low branch.
“We used to play here when we were children.” Though they were at least a quarter mile from the house, she kept her voice low.
James smiled, thinking of Rachel as a young girl playing make-believe in this magical place.
Rachel looped Lady’s lead rope over a branch. “Do you think we’re safe here?” The vulnerability in her eyes made his stomach clench. She’d been so strong up to this point. Now he could clearly see the fear she’d kept hidden.
“No one will find us here.” He prayed that was the truth.
A gust of wind ruffled the leaves overhead. A crow called in the distance. She shivered and rubbed her hands down her sleeves.
He wished he could take her in his arms and calm her fears, but that didn’t seem right when he would be leaving soon. What did the future hold? Would he ever see Rachel again after he left Springside? The weight of those questions made him feel like a heavy stone pressed into his chest.
He moved to a sturdy, low-hanging branch. “Come sit with me.”
She joined him and eased herself onto the branch. “What shall we do now?”
He forced a smile. “I suppose we could have a cup of tea and a nice chat while we wait.”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t know what to think of you.”
He feigned surprise. “What do you mean?”
“One minute you’re serious, discussing important issues, and the next you’re making me laugh, helping me forget all my troubles.”
“And this is a problem?”
“No . . . I just don’t know which is the real James Galloway.”
“They both are.” He cocked his head and grinned. “Life would be very boring if you could only have one mood, wouldn’t you agree?”
She pushed back with her feet and made the branch swing a little. “I suppose that’s true. The Bible does say a cheerful heart is good medicine.” Her smile faded. “But it’s difficult to always have a cheerful heart, especially with everything that’s happening with the war.”
His expression softened. “That’s when we need it the most.”
“I try, but . . .” She bit her lip and looked away.
“What is it?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m afraid James. I don’t want you to go.”
Her honest words made his breath catch in his throat, and he struggled to form a response.
She turned away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you have a job to do and no reason to stay here.”
Her words tore at his heart. He longed to tell her there was nothing he wanted more than to stay at Springside with her. But how could he make a declaration like that without a plan for the future? And what about his commitment to Harper’s and his duty to his friends?
“This is hard for me, James. I’ve already lost someone I cared about deeply.”
“You have?”
She looked his way again. “Yes. His name was Andrew Tillman. We grew up together. His parents are our closest neighbors.” The tenderness in her voice made it clear she and Andrew were more than neighbors.
“What happened?”
“He joined the Confederate Army as soon as Tennessee seceded. He died fighting in his first battle just a few months later.”
“I’m sorry. Were you . . . engaged?”
“No, but we had promised our hearts to each other before he left.”
He leaned closer until his arm touched hers. “I can understand a little of what you’ve gone through. I lost someone dear to me not too long ago.”
She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Who?”
“My sister died last December. I didn’t realize how ill she was until it was too late for me to return to England. We never had time to say good-bye.”
“Oh, James.” Tears shimmered in her eyes.
“I wanted to go home as soon as my parents wrote and told me she was ill, but Hettie sent another letter and insisted she’d be fine.”
Rachel lifted a startled gaze to his face. “Hettie is your sister?”
“Yes. Well, her real name was Henrietta, but we called her Hettie.”
“Is she the woman in the tintype you carried in your saddlebag?”
He nodded. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“You called for Hettie the first night you were here.” She lowered her gaze. “I thought she was your sweetheart.”
“No. A dear sister, but not my sweetheart.”
“Oh, I’m glad.” She looked up, and her eyes widened. “I mean . . . It sounds like you were very close. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” He paused for a moment. “I think Hettie would’ve been very fond you.”
She ducked her head and smiled. “What makes you say that?”
“She loved horses as you do, and somehow she found a way to tolerate me.”
Rachel laughed, then covered her mouth to stifle the sound.
“You’d better be careful, my dear, or you’ll give us away.”
She nodded, her eyes glowing with affection. She slowly lowered her hand, revealing her tender smile.
His heart soared. She obviously had feelings for him. Surely he could tell her he cared for her even though he had no idea what was to come or how they could be together.
Taking her hand, he pulled in a deep breath. “Rachel, though I’ve only known you a few weeks, I want you to know that I—”
“There you are!” Susan pushed through the branches into their shady hideaway, followed by Daniel Kincaid.
James stifled an irritated sigh and dropped Rachel’s hand.
“The rebels are gone. Father says it’s safe to come back.” Questions flickered in Susan’s eyes as she glanced at Rachel and James.
“We thought you might need help with the horses.” Kincaid moved toward Rachel.
James clenched his jaw. If Kincaid tried to kiss her hand again, he’d knock that hat right off his head.
“That was quite a daring plan to hide your horses,” Kincaid added. “But it could have ended in disaster if you’d been discovered.”
“Well, no one found us, and for that I’
m grateful.” She turned and sent James a private smile.
His heartbeat quickened. He returned her smile, hoping she understood he had more he wanted to say.
Chapter Nine
The next morning a bright-blue sky hung overhead as Rachel and Daniel walked back to the house following their ride. She would’ve rather spent the morning with James, but there had been no gracious way to decline Daniel’s request. Susan had begged to go along, and Rachel was more than willing, but Father insisted she stay in because she seemed to be coming down with a cold. Rachel released a soft sigh. Now the day was half spent.
“Springside is certainly beautiful this time of year.” Daniel gazed across the pasture.
“It’s beautiful all year round.” She tried to keep the hint of impatience out of her voice, but she wasn’t successful.
He chuckled. “I’m sure it is, I was simply pointing out how impressed I am with your property.”
“Thank you.” She got the words out, though it pained her.
“On our way to Nashville, we saw many homes that had been damaged or deserted, but the war hasn’t seemed to touch you here. You’re very lucky.”
“I believe in Providence rather than luck.”
He tipped his head. “Of course. I believe in Providence as well.”
“We’re grateful for God’s protection, and we pray daily for a Union victory.” She lifted her skirt and hurried up the back steps.
“Rachel, wait.” He removed his hat and joined her on the back porch. “This morning hasn’t gone as I’d hoped. Have I done something to offend you?”
She glanced away. “No. You’ve been a perfect gentleman. I’m sorry I’ve been . . . distracted.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “Of course. All is forgiven.”
She wanted to pull her hand away, but she waited until he released it, then turned and went inside.
Susan met them in the entry hall. “I need to speak to you.” She took Rachel’s arm and steered her away from Daniel.
“Excuse me,” Rachel called over her shoulder, then leaned closer to Susan. “What is it?”
“James just received a message,” Susan whispered. “Thomas Beckley has arrived in Nashville.”
Rachel clutched Susan’s arm. “Where’s James?”
Waiting for His Return Page 5
