Handpicked Family. Shannon Farrington

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СКАЧАТЬ The promise of a more perfect union for all had yet to be fulfilled and Peter took that offense personally. He’d had two brothers give their lives in the hope of a better tomorrow and he was determined not to let their sacrifices be in vain.

      Sadly he wasn’t surprised by Dr. Mackay’s report that the Federal escorts had deserted the wagon convoy, nor that a shipment of supplies had been stolen. Who’d taken it...well, of that he couldn’t be sure. He’d met more than one US soldier who’d rather see Southerners starve, and just as many Southerners who would steal or kill to prevent that from happening.

      Clutching the derringer, he cast a quick glance at Miss Martin. And she has no idea what she has stepped into. This is no place for a lady. Mrs. Mackay has a husband to look after her. Peter knew that because Miss Martin was his employee, her welfare would now fall to him. And that’s the last thing I need. He already had a woman for whom he needed to claim responsibility—as soon as he could find her. Caroline. Caroline Carpenter. His brother’s widow.

      His thoughts quickly returned to the Baltimore belle before him. Foolish woman, he thought. I never should have hired her. He told himself he should have known from the beginning that her naive boldness would be trouble. He remembered vividly the day she had stepped into his office. “My sister tells me you are in need of workers for your newspaper,” she had said. “I’m here to apply.”

      He’d stared at her for a moment, half in shock, half in admiration over her straightforward approach. Most women seemed somewhat intimidated by him. Even now her sister Elizabeth still had a tendency to call him “sir.”

      “What can you do?” he’d asked.

      Miss Martin had confessed that, unlike her sister, she had no artistic talents, but that she had a good grasp of grammar and had won numerous spelling medals in school. “I thought you might be in need of a proofreader.”

      In actuality, he had been, and he had offered her a position on a trial basis. She had excelled in her tasks, and soon Peter had offered her the position permanently. Truth be told, she had been a great help to him. Up until the point she pegged me for a husband. I thought I had put a stop to that. Evidently she did not take the hint.

      In that instant Jack Zimmer rightfully reclaimed his attention. His voice was growing more emphatic with each word he spoke. “Look, preacher, we aren’t leaving here till you give us some food.”

      Jones and O’Neil were armed with pitchforks. The others were lame, but taken collectively, they could still be a considerable force. Peter assessed his own strength. If he stayed on his horse he’d have the upper hand, but Zimmer knows my weakness. If he forces me to the ground I’ll be useless. He glanced at Reverend Webb. Preacher won’t fight. He’s a man of peace. And Dr. MacKay is closest to the women...

      The derringer was his only safeguard. Although he despised the thought of firing it, he would do so if it came to that. Miss Martin had left him little other choice. Hopefully just showing it would be enough.

      “We can give you all a little something now,” she suddenly announced.

      Everyone, including Peter, immediately turned in her direction. That naive, hopeful look was on her face. Have mercy, he grumbled to himself.

      “We packed small sacks of cornmeal,” she said. “We can give you some of that. They are at the back of Dr. Mackay’s wagon.”

      Don’t tell them what you have! Peter thought. Let alone where it is! But much to his surprise, her offer seemed to defuse the tension.

      “It be real flour?” Mr. Jones asked. “None a that ground-up chalk the carpetbaggers bring through?”

      “Yes, sir,” she said. “Real food. Real cornmeal.”

      While Jones and O’Neil were pleased enough to drop their pitchforks, Zimmer still didn’t look happy. Wheat had been the primary staple before the war. The cattle and the slaves ate the corn. But these people would have to settle for anything they could swallow.

      Jones pressed his way to the front of the group. “Well, word or not, I’m not going to pass up the chance for some meal right now. I’ll take what’s offered.”

      O’Neil stepped toward the wagons also. Reverend Webb encouraged the others to form a queue. On the principle that some food was better than none, Zimmer joined it, as well.

      “What about medicines?” he asked. “People around here are sick.”

      “Aye,” Dr. Mackay said, “but first we must reorganize our supplies. Come to the church. We will do our best by you there.”

      The situation had been remedied, at least for now. Still Peter kept his guard. With one eye he watched the men. With the other he studied Miss Martin. She was smiling, no doubt pleased with herself and hoping he would be pleased with her. Well, he wasn’t, and at the risk of being ungentlemanly, he was going to let her know that.

      * * *

      The cornmeal had been distributed without further incident and the men were now returning to what remained of their homes. Emily was helping her husband resecure the oilcloth cover over their wagon while Trudy held the second one in check. Mr. Carpenter was still on his horse, his back ramrod straight as if poised for battle. Since there had been no skirmish with the hungry men, was he now about to engage her in one? Apparently so, for when the last local man disappeared over the knoll, her employer slid from his horse and lumbered toward her.

      He had that look in his eye, the one he showed in the newsroom whenever a reporter missed a deadline or the proof sheets weren’t to his liking. Trudy’s thoughts tumbled nervously over one another. Inadvertently she tightened her reins. Her horse threw his head in protest. Quickly she tried to correct her mistake but only made matters worse. Now the horse seemed determined to back up.

      “No... No... Don’t do that! Please, no.”

      “Loosen the reins, Miss Martin!” Mr. Carpenter commanded as he muscled his way, albeit somewhat awkwardly, into the driver’s box. His ink-stained hands reached for hers. Forcefully he commandeered the reins.

      “Stand!” he called to the beast.

      The horse promptly obeyed. Trudy had no doubt that it would. Even she felt the sudden urge to sit bolt upright at attention.

      “You must be more careful.”

      “Y-yes...” She replied. For a split second she was tempted to call him “sir” but she knew he did not like that title.

      “It’s Mr. Carpenter or Peter,” he’d always said, and although she had wanted to call him by his Christian name, she certainly would not do so now. He might think more of the familiarity than she actually meant.

      “Miss Martin,” he said as he put on the brake and then turned to her. His probing brown eyes seemed to bore right into her soul. “Why exactly are you here in your brother-in-law’s place?”

      Trudy swallowed hard. “Exactly?”

      “Yes, Miss Martin.”

      “Well... Mr. Collins is ill and cannot oversee the paper...”

      Still the look... Elizabeth called it frightening, like standing before a judge who was eagerly СКАЧАТЬ