Wed By Necessity. Karen Kirst

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СКАЧАТЬ his hat in his hands, Duncan fought his rising temper, fingers crushing the crown. How dare she? If she cost him this job... Of course, there’d be others. But he’d just got here. He wanted to explore, meet the locals. Rest from his long journey over the mountains separating North Carolina and Tennessee.

      “He seems like a perfectly reasonable man to me. Has he made untoward advances?”

      Silence. Duncan’s whole body tensed. If she lied, he’d be run out of town.

      “No,” she said at last.

      His head fell back and he offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving.

      “Give it some time.” Albert’s leather chair creaked. “This time next week, you’ll be too busy entertaining our guests to exchange more than a dozen words with him. Your mother tells me Theo Marsh is looking forward to seeing you again.”

      “Mother is engaging in wishful thinking.” She made a huff of displeasure. “What about after everyone leaves? How am I supposed to go about my daily life with him around, waiting to antagonize me?”

      “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. Duncan comes on the highest recommendation. We need him.”

      “But—”

      “I suggest you apply your energy to what you do best—parting me from my money.”

      Duncan pivoted and walked lightly down the hall, bent on escape. Anger firing his blood, he pushed into the sunshine and smashed his hat on his head. He felt like kicking something. Or planting his fist into a wall. He settled for hefting grain sacks from the delivery wagon to the feed room. The physical labor helped expend the resentment burning through his veins. He was mucking out the stalls when she strode through the entrance.

      “Why are you doing Anthony’s job?”

      The temper he’d wrestled with his entire life begged to be let loose. Calling on his self-control, he tunneled the pitchfork into the straw.

      “Why does it bother you?” he bit out.

      “Forget I asked.”

      He continued working while she saddled her mare. As she made to lead Rain outside, he couldn’t maintain his silence any longer. Fingers still curled about the pitchfork, he moved into the aisle. She slowed, her demeanor wary.

      “I heard you talking to your father about me.”

      Color brushed her cheekbones. “You were eavesdropping?”

      “That wasnae my intent, I assure you. Nevertheless, I heard what you said, and I want you to know I plan on keeping this job. I’m no’ keen on traversing those mountains again anytime soon.”

      Averting her face, she caressed Rain’s neck. “I realize you have to earn a living,” she conceded. “And since my father is resolved to keep you around, I suggest we agree to steer clear of each other.”

      Surprise stilled his tongue. She was offering a practical solution?

      He became enthralled by the affection shining in her eyes as she gazed at her beloved horse. What would it be like if she were to turn that affection on him? Yearning arced through him like a bolt of lightning, rooting him to the ground. He didn’t like Caroline, so why entertain such thoughts about her?

      Had to be loneliness. He’d broken off his engagement to Maureen Craig a few weeks before he’d left Boston, which was well over a year ago now. He hadn’t courted a woman since. Of late, he’d been thinking more often about finding a wife, settling into married life and starting a family.

      He cleared his throat. “I, ah, believe that’s reasonable.”

      Their gazes meshed, and he found himself searching for answers. What made this woman tick? Was there more depth to her than he’d first thought?

      “Then we have an agreement,” she said. “You stay out of my way, and I stay out of yours.”

      His fingers curled into the wooden handle. “Aye.”

      Focused on her exit from the building, he didn’t hear Wendell approach and nearly jumped out of his skin when the man spoke directly behind him.

      “You misunderstand Miss Caroline.”

      Turning around, he said, “Good morning, Wendell. Can I help you with something?”

      Wendell’s brown-black gaze was knowing. “Miss Caroline is like a cactus fruit. Prickly on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside.”

      “There’s nothing sweet about that woman.”

      “A wise man learns to look beyond the obvious. She hasn’t had an easy life.” His attention moved beyond Duncan’s shoulder to the grand Victorian-style house visible through the entrance, the sun bathing its green exterior and white trim in golden light.

      Duncan had sensed that all was not well between Caroline and her parents. Didn’t mean she had the right to treat others, mainly him, as if they were the dirt beneath her high-priced boots. Being around Caroline was like looking into a window to his past. He used to think like her. Before he’d become a follower of Jesus, he’d bought the lie that earthly riches and achievements gave him value. He’d treated those he considered his equals with respect. Those who were poorer, who were of the working class or not members of the right family, he’d ignored altogether. He cringed with shame every time he thought about his boorish behavior.

      “Give her a chance,” Wendell advised, bringing him back to the present.

      The man’s words stuck with him the rest of the day. As the days rolled past, he couldn’t get them out of his head. Was she hiding her true self behind that aloof exterior? Or was she exactly what she presented to the world?

      Disgusted with his preoccupation, he went out of his way to avoid her. A week passed without them having to exchange more than a simple greeting. There were no more dinners in the Turner house. Whenever he needed to confer with Albert, he waited until he was certain she was out of the house. And any time she entered the stables, he found an excuse to tend to tasks elsewhere. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it maintained a tenuous peace between them.

      That Friday, he ate his lunch as usual on the porch steps of his temporary home. Situated across the fields and tucked deep in the woods, the cabin couldn’t be seen from the main area of the property. About a ten-minute walk from the main house, the cabin was self-sustainable with a vegetable garden, smokehouse, chicken coop and a decent-sized barn. The home itself consisted of one room, with a bare-bones kitchen—a cast-iron stove in decent condition, a lopsided hutch and a handful of shelves to hold pots and other utensils—and a bed pushed against one wall. Two chairs were situated at the square table made of pine. The place might not be fancy, but it suited his needs.

      Finished with his lunch, he started along the path toward the Turners’ house, whistling a jaunty tune he’d learned as a child. When he emerged into the fields, instead of heading to the stables, he decided to explore the section of the property Caroline had failed to show him. According to Anthony, there was a pond large enough for fishing and swimming that Albert had given them permission to use.

      Shin-high grass whispered against his pant legs as he strolled СКАЧАТЬ