“There’s a bell hanging on the porch of that small building. Is that a schoolhouse?”
She started, drawn out of her thoughts by Ezra’s question. “Yes, it is. My friend, Willa, was the schoolmarm until a few months ago.”
He looked her way. “She lost her position?”
“She got married.” Amusement rippled through her. Willa, who had trusted neither men nor God and vowed she would never marry, was the first of the four of them to do so. Matthew Calvert had come to pastor Pinewood Church, and his love and lopsided grin had brought the wall of defense around her friend’s heart crashing down as surely as the walls of Jericho had tumbled at a shout. Now, Willa was Matthew’s wife and mother to his charges—the young son and daughter of his late brother.
Envy rose, fastened a choking grip on her heart. She was happy for Willa, truly she was. But, oh how she wished she could marry a man like Matthew. An honest man who would love her for herself. Not one of the rich men who took one look at her and professed undying love. Liars! They didn’t even know her. If they did, they would know she was not impressed by their wealth or their arrogant boastings and would not be bought. Pain shot up her arm. She glanced down. Her fingers were buried in the bundle of old sheeting. She took a slow breath and relaxed her grip, dipped her head toward the dirt road that wound up the hill on their left. “We’ll turn here.”
* * *
Ezra looked from the spidery shadows on the dirt road to the bare limbs of the huge trees that cast them. What a beautiful, shaded lane this would be in the summer. Too bad he wouldn’t be around to enjoy a ride with Callie then.
He lowered his gaze, shifted it to the right. The rough ride over the rain-gouged gullies in the road had shaken Callie’s hood back a bit, exposing her exquisite profile. He had a sudden urge to make her look at him, talk to him. She’d been quiet since they’d left the village. “It’s a nice day. The sun is quite cheering, though there’s still a chill to the air.”
“Yes.” She glanced his way, then tugged her hood forward.
He frowned and shifted his gaze back to the road. Polite and brief. Clearly, Callie did not care to engage in conversation with him. Why? Was it her initial suspicion of him? Or had she sensed his intent this morning when he’d thought about kissing her? His tenacious side reared, formed a list of questions she would have to answer with more than a yes or no. He wasn’t a successful businessman because he backed away from a tough opponent. And the first step to making a fair and beneficial deal was to get your adversary to talk with you. He tugged gently on the right rein turning Star into the sharp curve ahead. “This road is getting pretty bad. How much farther do we have to go?”
“I don’t— Oh!”
Callie bumped hard against him as they rounded the curve and the front wheels dropped into a wide washout running diagonally across the road. He shot his arm out to brace her as Star lunged forward and the shay rocked up and over the other edge.
“Whoa, Star!” The shay shuddered to a halt. He dropped the reins and twisted toward Callie, their faces almost touching in the small enclosed area beneath the hood. His heart jolted against his ribs. “Are you all right?” He searched her face, looked into her eyes. So close...
She gave a little nod, and the death grip she had on his arm released. He sucked in air, drew back and worked to get his pulse under control as she straightened and slid as far as possible toward her side of the seat. She turned her head toward him. Her gaze fastened on his, but shifted away before he could read her expression.
“Once again, I must thank you, Ezra. That is the second time today you have saved me from possible harm.”
“No thanks are needed.” Her violet-blue gaze touched his again, then slid away.
“Nonetheless, I appreciate your thoughtfulness, and your...concern for my well-being.”
Her soft voice held an undercurrent he could not decipher. He rose and backed out of the shay, away from temptation. “I’ll just check for any damage, and then we’ll be on our way.” He glanced at the wheels, ducked down to look over the undercarriage, then walked to her side and did the same.
She leaned out and turned her face toward him. “It’s a good thing you strapped the basket down tight. There would be a frightful mess if the lid had come off the pot of stew.”
His lips quirked. It had taken an almost accident, but at last she had addressed him voluntarily. “Not to mention the waste of your excellent cooking.” He ran his hand along a spoke of the wheel to keep himself from stepping forward and kissing her.
“Is anything broken?”
“It doesn’t appear so. I believe it’s safe to go on.”
“It shouldn’t be far. Aunt Sophia said the Deering farm is the first one on this road.”
Her voice held a different tone. He straightened and looked at her. She smiled. A genuine, friendly smile that was unbelievably sweet—not at all like the heretofore cool and polite curve of the lips she’d given him. And her eyes, her incredibly beautiful violet-blue eyes, had lost their guarded look. There was a warmth, a trust in their steady gaze. It was tentative to be sure, but it was there. What had changed? No matter. The change was something to build on. He’d figure out the reason for it later. He brushed his hands free of dirt and gave her a wry grin. “I’ll try not to wreck the shay and spill the stew before we get there.”
He’d not heard her laugh before. It was like music. Lord, I don’t know what the future holds. But, whatever it is, please, let me never disappoint this woman.
He walked back around to his side, climbed in and urged Star forward, keeping a tight rein on the growing wish to take the sweetness that was Callie Conner into his arms.
* * *
Ezra carried the cot and blankets into the barn, went back into the equipment room and brought out the tonsorial case and his jacket. He snatched the broom from where it stood propped in the corner and went back inside and destroyed the cobwebs clinging to the beams in the ceiling. The thought of a spider dropping down on him while he slept held little appeal. And he wasn’t going anywhere. Not after today.
Callie was so beautiful. So unspoiled. Could it be true? The woman affected him like no other he’d ever met.
He yanked the dusty, scarred chest into the center of the small room, manhandled the tin cupboard out of the corner and swept down the walls, including the halters and harness equipment hanging from pegs. They’d been sorely neglected. He’d start oiling them when he’d finished cleaning the barn. He stomped a scurrying spider and started sweeping the floor. Dust swirled in the dull light of the lantern.
He’d never in his life seen a sight that could equal the beauty of Callie Conner standing in that doorway this morning with her violet eyes shaded by her long, black lashes, her delicate features warmed by the golden light of the lantern and her hair— Whoo! Her hair.
He puffed out a breath and swept with new vigor. He’d been so stunned by the sight of her with those black, silky curls around her face and tumbling over her shoulders he’d dropped that whole armload of firewood. Shocked himself. And her, too. She’d whirled into that other room and slammed that door faster than a blink.
He coughed, shot the pile of debris he’d swept up out into the barn area and hurried out the door to catch a breath of dust-free air. Callie Conner was an enigma. Every other woman he knew would have taken advantage of